Abra Cadaver Read Online Free PDF Page B

difference.
    Keane got up from the couch and paced the length of the living room. He’d stayed in some shitholes with his saves over the years. Holly’s farmhouse, on the other hand, was so cozy and clean. The rooms were big and airy, yet oozed southern charm and warmth. He didn’t necessarily feel the warmth, but he knew it existed. Could see it in the primitive paintings Holly had hung on the walls, in the quilted blanket she kept on the back of the plaid couch, in the little bunches of flowers, both dried and fresh from the front yard, she’d placed in mason jars throughout the house.
    This was her space, and he didn’t belong in it. He wanted to. He wanted to stop his roaming from place to place, person to person, and root himself right here forever. Become a part of this land, this time, maybe this woman. He missed having a home.
    Holly had given him one of the bedrooms at the northern end of the house. Not that he actually slept in it. He didn’t need to sleep. Holly’s master bedroom was all the way over on the southern side of the house. That little detail bothered him, but he’d been thankful he’d gotten a room at all. He’d stayed with people who had treated him like a pestilence, not allowing him to set foot in their homes. By the rules of the curse, they didn’t have to quarter him. He’d been relegated to sheds, garages, under porches and decks, pool houses, crypts, and dungeons.
    Here, with Holly, he had free rein of her house. She’d only asked him to stay out of her bedroom, which he respected. He used the bedroom she’d supplied to keep his small stash of clothes in his duffle bag, his set of daggers, which he used every seven days, and a tattered copy of Kafka’s The Metamorphosis . He knew a thing or two about being changed into a monstrous vermin. He sympathized with old Gregor Samsa.
    He made use of the small bathroom across the hall from his room to shower, especially on those nights when the green blood of his kills stained his flesh. Holly had said he could use the larger bathroom closer to her room, but he’d declined. He was already far too comfortable in her house. He didn’t want to allow himself too much freedom for he wouldn’t be staying long. She would eventually do what she was meant to do for the world, and he’d be forced to roam around like a vagabond once again until he was compelled to save the next person.
    How he wished that compulsion wouldn’t come. That he could decide for himself where he wanted to go. Looking around Holly’s living room right now, he knew where he would stay.
    Dangerous. Wanting to stay with her was foolish thinking. He knew what happened if he got too close. He’d made that mistake once. About five years into living with the abra cadaver curse, he had saved a teenage girl after she had drowned in a lake on her family’s land. Saving young ones was difficult because he had to deal with parents, many of whom didn’t believe he’d revived their child or considered him a deviant.
    This girl’s family, however, took pity on Keane and welcomed him into their home. They considered him a hero for saving their daughter and very kindly never spoke a harsh word to him even when the girl woke screaming every night from the dreams. They supported their daughter, looked for ways to help her find her something important, and treated him like a member of the family. They knew he killed demons, but they didn’t fear him or think less of him.
    And then there was Melinda, the girl’s older sister. A fair lass with golden hair and blue eyes that sparkled like sunshine on water. She had a singing voice that rivaled angels, and she had a way of making him feel less of a monster.
    One night, after slaying a particularly nasty demon, he dropped the body in the woods bordering the family’s property and jumped into the lake to wash away the night’s work. On his way back to the barn where he had been given accommodations, he saw someone standing in the