Dead Living (Spirit Caller Book 5) by Krista D Ball Page A

that I was supporting her in what might be the final major decision of her life.
    My worries for Jeremy’s health were replaced with the sweetness of remembering how much he’d improved. And, an anxiety I’d never truly formed into words drifted away as I felt the comfort of knowing Jeremy loved me for me and not out of obligation because I’d cared for him.
    The wedding would all be fine. The money would work itself out. My plans would be fine. My art would work out. Everything was going to be fine.
    Why was I even worrying?
    “Spirits! Depart to your rest or be destroyed.”
    I blinked my eyes and stared about me. Javier was standing behind the manifested spirits, who’d all turned their attention to him. His ball cap was drenched and water dripped off the brim. There was no smile on his face, no look of recognition. It was all professional calm.
    He held the spirit sword that only I could see and said, “I will destroy you forever. Go.”
    And all the while, his voice of calm continued its litany in the back of my mind.
    Dema appeared next to Javier. Her eyes glowed red and a seething hatred creased her young features. She whirled on the spirits surrounding the cabin before her eyes landed on Javier. “You! Do something!”
    “I don’t want to destroy them if I don’t need to,” Javier said steadily. “They’ve done nothing wrong.”
    “Kill them before they kill the Spirit Caller!” Dema demanded.
    “What’s going on?” I asked.
    “Do not speak,” Dema commanded.
    “I bloody well will speak,” I said.
    They ignored me. The spirits ignored them, because they turned their attention back to me.
    I looked at the gathering. Javier and Dema stood side-by-side with rage in her eyes and resigned determination in his. Off to the side were Manny and Connie holding hands. Next to them was a woman I’d never seen before. No, wait. I knew her. What was Isabella doing here?
    “Why are you all here?”
    “Hush,” Isabella said.
    Dema appeared inside the cabin. “Why are you not dressed for the weather?”
    I sighed and realized I’d dropped my blanket in all of the excitement of Javier’s sword. I grabbed it from the floor and held it up against me. “For the millionth time, what are you doing here?”
    “You are in danger,” Dema said.
    If I wasn’t so annoyed, I would have said something about her saying it in Whoopi Goldberg’s voice. Instead, I said, “Yes, I’m surrounded by the undead zombie squad.”
    “These zombies were summoned by Whisperers,” Javier shouted so that I could hear him.
    “Ha! See? Even Javier says they’re zombies!” Jeremy said triumphantly. “Hey, Javier. Good to see you.”
    Javier tipped his chin at Jeremy. “You’re looking good, Jeremy.”
    Jeremy, of course, was in his boxer briefs. Jeremy, however, didn’t feel the total humiliation of being in his underwear. Cultural expectations are a bitch and a half.
    “Get. Rid. Of. Them. Now,” Dema ordered.
    Javier frowned and cut through the first figure. The zombies roared in unison and rushed Javier, overwhelming him. He shouted in rage and his spirit sword pierced through their manifested bodies. The sword hummed with each new soul added to its vast reservoir.
    “Jeremy! Keep Rachel safe!” Isabella shouted. She reached behind her shoulder and a glowing sword appeared in her hand. She carved a path to Javier.
    Jeremy grabbed me by the waist and pulled me tight against his body, kitchen knife still in hand.
    I watched in sick fascination as Manny grunted and growled, punching the ethereal zombies. His fists would sink through their forms and they faded away. Connie muttered under her breath, sweat poured down her face, and she ripped the, well, soul out of the spirits. Assuming spirits had souls, I suppose.
    I shouted at the spirits. “Be gone!” Still nothing happened.
    I could feel slippery thoughts entering my mind, fighting for space alongside Javier’s calm litany of comfort. I couldn’t do anything