As Lie The Dead Read Online Free PDF

on my skin and clothes smelled stronger in the moist heat. Grief tightened my throat. A phantom pain raced down my left arm from elbow to wrist.
    Water pooled around the drain, and I realized I’d pulled the stopper. I slapped it back down and released the water, sick to my stomach.
    Disgust overwhelmed the nagging sense of grief and coiled tight around my other emotions.
You are not her. This is all in your mind, Evy! Take a fucking shower!
    I embraced the disgust—
she gave up, dammit!
—adjusted the water temperature to something more bearable, and stepped in. I showered quickly, slogging blood and grit off my skin and out of my hair. There was no chance of enjoying it now.
    As I washed, I checked my wounds. The gashes onmy stomach were thick red scars that would fade to white, then into nothingness by tomorrow. The bite on my shoulder was a cross of white tooth marks I no longer felt. Other scrapes and bruises from my fights with Kelsa and Tovin were gone. I scrubbed hard on my left forearm, as though it would cleanse the memory of Chalice’s suicide. All it did was leave my skin pink and sore.
    The water finally ran clear. I toweled off and dressed quickly in clean jeans and a black baby-doll T—one of the few dark items in Chalice’s wardrobe. I rummaged around in the sink drawers for a hair tie, and my fingers closed around a pair of scissors. I held them up, letting light from the overhead fixture gleam across their surface.
    I liked short hair and had always kept mine above my shoulders. No fuss, no muss, and less for an attacker to grab. In the foggy mirror, long brown hair hung nearly to my waist, heavy and wet and thick. Cutting it off would feel so good. Lighten the load. Make me feel more like me again.
    Only it wasn’t me anymore. The thin, blond Evy liked her hair short and clothes black. This new conglomerate me, shaped by two strong personalities and a teleporting Gift, protested. She had long brown hair and rounder hips and colorful clothes. Except for the suicide backwash, I kind of liked her.
    The scissors went back into the drawer. I found a pair of hair chopsticks and used them to mound my damp hair up and away from my neck. Strapped the knife sheath back on my right ankle—a familiar, comforting presence. Presentable again, I stuffed the cellphone into my rear jeans pocket and exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam.
    The scent of coffee, bitter and strong, greeted me. I paused to inhale the rich aroma. A long sleep was preferable to a caffeine jolt, but if Phin needed to talk to us, it was the least I could do for him. And I needed to be awake for it. The Owlkin in question was nowhere in sight—a development that might have worried me if my attention hadn’t immediately been drawn to the dining room floor.
    The glass and wood shards were gone and the ivory carpet blood-free, although still darker tan in some spots. Two white trash bags were tacked over the broken door and sealed with duct tape—the only remaining evidence of our scuffle with Tully and Wormer.
    A cabinet door slammed somewhere behind the kitchen counter. Wyatt stood up with a skillet in one hand and a lid in the other.
    “When did you become so domestic?” I asked, waving my hand at the clean floor.
    “Thank Phineas,” Wyatt replied. “He swept it up, scrubbed out the bloodstains, and took out the garbage. He even cleaned some spoiled stuff out of the refrigerator.”
    Laughing, I strode across the damp carpet to the counter. “An Owlkin who’s also a compulsive neat freak. Who knew? You didn’t happen to find any keys lying around?”
    “No, sorry.”
    Damn. “It’s possible someone in the Triads took them when they untied Tully and Wormer.” The thought did not please me.
    Wyatt put the skillet on the stove, then started rummaging around in the freezer.
    “What are you cooking now?” I asked.
    “I was thinking steak and eggs,” he replied. His voice was muffled by the freezer door, which itself was covered