Abra Cadaver Read Online Free PDF

Eliah fought alongside Keane. Saw that Keane depended on his brother. Loved his brother.
    Since the crone’s spell, Keane had remained in the Celtic army with Eliah. They fought for their people, but every now and again, he would be compelled to leave their countryside and save a dying soul as the hag’s curse dictated. Eliah knew why this happened as did some of Keane’s men, and they always covered for him. Always fought bravely in his absence under Eliah’s command. Upon Keane’s return, Eliah always had victorious news to report.
    “How would we fare without you, brother?” Keane said one day after having disappeared to the hills for weeks to save a young boy who had eventually figured out an irrigation system that gave his village the ability to farm.
    “Probably much better, Keane, for it was I who brought this curse upon you. My selfishness in wanting you to live has reduced your life to its current state.” Eliah sighed as he pulled off his armor and set it on the ground in the barn behind the stone cottage he and Keane shared.
    “Feel no guilt, Eliah.” Keane rested his hands on his younger brother’s shoulders. “I would have made the same choice were it you on death’s door.”
    Eliah smiled a little at that. “Emotion clouds the mind.”
    “Indeed.” Keane stowed his own armor and motioned to the cottage. “Come. Let’s retire for the evening before our day of mourning tomorrow.”
    They had rested and led a ceremony the following dawn for all their lost soldiers, many of them kin. When the ceremony ended, Eliah mounted his horse and headed for the woods as he did whenever he had a free moment. He loved to ride. Keane had no idea that would be the last time he would see Eliah alive.
    He’d taken his own horse and gone looking for Eliah when the sun slipped below the horizon. He had found his brother and his horse on the ground, the blood of them both pooling together on the leaf-strewn path. He’d tried to save Eliah. Pressed his palms to his brother’s chest. Waited for the familiar white light to zip to his fingertips and start Eliah’s heart again.
    When it didn’t come, when instead he held his brother’s lifeless body in his lap with no hope of reviving him, Keane had died, too. True, his body would not cease to function. His men would not bury him in the earth alongside Eliah. But he would not enjoy this life he’d been given by the witch. She’d called it a gift, but if he could not save the one person who’d meant more to him than anyone, it was no gift. A curse, pure and simple. That was the last day he was able to go out in the sun as well. It was as if losing Eliah had taken all the light away. Had reduced Keane to something that could only scurry around in the darkness. He had packed a small sack and left his countryside, never to return. Without Eliah, there was nothing for him at the cottage they had called home.
    He no longer had a home.
    Staring at the newspapers in front of him now, he wished he had come upon Holly some other way. He didn’t want her to be one of his saves. Didn’t want to have to force himself into her life until she despised his presence. And she did despise him. She had to. She never said it outright to his face, but he could read her looks, her body language, the distance she kept between them.
    He’d had no choice about saving her. The witch decided whom he would save. He merely carried out the orders, followed the compulsion toward someone who was dying, and did what he alone could do. He worked hard to keep what he did a secret both for his sake and the sake of his saves. Many of them went on to be famous. They didn’t need a sketchy character like him showing up in their biographies. He knew how to be invisible which also made him an excellent killer. He was a walking paradox—a savior in one breath, a murderer in the next. He had to remind himself constantly that he killed demons, not humans. Sometimes he just didn’t see the