Page 98 of Secondhand Soul

Because what she’s thinking will probably work.

And that means some shit is about to go down.

Victoria takes a little black pencil from the jumble on the desk and draws on her perfect face. Not on her eyebrows or around her eyes. A long line up her jaw, over her chin. Another on her cheek. Tiny dabs across it, making stitches.

My breath stops. My heart doesn’t know how to beat.

She’s beautiful, always beautiful, but I never want to see her like this. Pale and stitched, like someone had to sew split skin together.

“I figure you wouldn’t need a bunch of parts if someone here could help you ‘reanimate’ me. Probably just some sewing to keep my skin together. Like on the back of my hands, maybe? Or on my arms? I could look it up, but I don’t want to.” She shudders. “We’ll have to take the pictures outside. I need to look pale. Ooh, is the pharmacy still open? Everyone carries goth ‘dead white’ makeup these days.”

“Vic! Babe, what are you doing?” I hiss, finding words. “I mean, yes, I know what you’re doing, but why?”

“Because I think I know how to get Vince Pazcuso and his boys to come right to where you want them, when you want them.”

“How?”

Victoria beams. “Offer him what he wants. An undead assassin—I’m already trained. Plus, I have a dual purpose. Undead whore. A call girl you can’t kill.”

My stomach tries to crawl up my throat and escape. I can’t even bear to think of what the men in Pazcuso’s organization would do to a woman they didn’t have to worry about breaking.

“No.”

Victoria pauses, pencil in her grasp. “No?”

I shake my head, temporarily mute.

“But, look. You could call him and tell him you’re not going back, but he gave you an idea. This is a magical town, and you found your own dark sorcery guy. You made yourself your own undead prom queen, but you don’t like me. I’m mindless. Obedient. No spark. That’s fine, Pazcuso wanted that when he made you.”

My fists tighten, and I nod. All of her words make sense. I just hate every single one of them.

“You tell him you heard the word on the street that there’s still someone hunting for you. You don’t want to be hunted. You’ll make him a trade. All he has to do is come collect me at the cemetery.” Victoria walks over to me. “He’ll believe you. He’ll believe you because he already saw ‘dead me.’ You got the idea from him, you say. You tell him you dug me back up after a few days and only had to do minor repairs. There are dark sorcerers around here, too, and—”

“No. No! Victoria. This is a bad, dangerous idea. If he shows up and something goes wrong, he’ll take you, dead or alive, and if you’re alive, he’ll turn you into something dead, and then something undead. I can’t let that happen.”

“And if we don’t lure him here on our terms, he could show up here any time. He could be here already. How long does it take to get here on a plane?”

“This town is so well protected.” I swallow several times. I know that doesn’t necessarily matter when there’s a human entering the town. It didn’t stop Victoria. Heck, it doesn’t necessarily matter when it’s a monster, either. Pazcuso has his own pet sorcerer, too. He could reanimate a corpse—bits of corpses, for God’s sake—who’s to say that he couldn’t poke a hole in the best knitted barriers and wards in the world?

“What do you think he’ll do if he comes to town and sees Manny and Rhea?” Victoria asks in a soft, dangerous voice.

I already know the answer. Two indestructible beings, the originals.

“If they’re back with Emma...” Victoria’s voice falters, chokes, and pushes on, “they’d have the perfect bait. There’s nothing Manny and Rhea wouldn’t do to protect her or save her. Or you. Anyone. They’re too good for scum like Pazcuzo to hunt, baby. We have to be the monsters again, Laz. We have to hunt the real evil. If you don’t like my plan, fine, make another one, but we have to do something before he calls the shots. And takes a shot. Takes us away from who we love or takes someone else away from us.” Her voice trembles and tears overflow, messing up her pretty black stitches. “This is home. This is family. You and me. This is the first time in... In ever that I feel like I have a place where I can be myself, with all of my messed up baggage, and still have a wonderful future.”

My hands stroke back her tears. Cup her face. In just a few weeks, she looks different. Brighter, healthier, a little fuller in the face.

“We’ll have to take the picture in the shadows. Go to the pharmacy. We’ll skip the party, but if he’s in the area, and we can get him here tonight, that’ll be... That’ll actually be good,” my eyes brighten, glowing green, reflected on her smooth, pale skin. “Half the town will be at White Pines, and I’ll tell the paranormal community to spread the word and be on the lookout. They’ll have our backs, splitting themselves between the party and the area around the cemetery. If I can convince Pazcuso to come.”

Victoria gives me a small smile. “I can convince them. I know how to act lifeless. It’s easy for me. Well, it used to be.”

I can feel how her hands are shaking, but she’s brave enough to do this. To help people who’ve taken her in. To help me, because that’s what love makes you do.

“Do you really think they’ll help?”

My face tips into a crooked grin before I realize it. “Yeah. They will. Same reasons we’re fighting and protecting. This is home, and they have family here. You go to the pharmacy. I have texts to send and calls to make.”

WE HAVE TO TIME IT just right. The party at White Pines starts at eight. Lazarus hangs up the phone with Manny and Rhea, who sound drained.