More Than Flesh & Bone

Chapter 13

GHOSTED

Hey. Zed.

Yooooooo, Zed.

Dude, why aren't you answering?

We're supposed to be training today. Where are you?

Zed? Dickhead? Bane of my undead existence? Torturer extraordinaire?

After the sixth text in three days that went unanswered, I slipped my phone into my back pocket and went into the bathroom to get ready.

"Aaaaaadds," Trace the Sheep called out.

I squinted at him, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Don't you ever sleep?" I grumbled, walking across my room and flipping the bathroom light on.

"Noooo," he answered.

"Huh, guess that makes sense… given that you're dead and all." The sheep glowered at me from my bed as I began working my fingers through my white tangles. "What? Too insensitive?"

The stuffie nodded. Fair enough, I suppose.

I flipped the faucet on and splashed my face with cool water, then used the hand towel to wipe it off. Brushing my teeth and changing clothes, I turned over the last few days in my mind again.

Zed had bounced after the summoning, and I hadn't seen him since. The part that was starting to weird me out was that he wasn't answering his phone. At all. Was he ignoring me? It was possible, but it didn't seem likely. Of all the times for him to finally decide to drop off the planet, now didn't make sense.

He was being kinda sketch where the Zombies were concerned, though.

Despite my repeated attempts to make him see that Bucky was in cahoots with my brother's killer, he didn't want to believe it.

I walked into my bedroom and shoved my feet in a pair of low boots that just came over the hem of my skinny jeans. Leaning over, I grabbed my keys and got to my feet.

Maybe Zed was uninterested in catching the real killer, but I'd had enough sitting around. If I couldn't go straight to his door and ask him, I'd do the second-best thing.

"Aaaaaadds!" Tracey called, running across my comforter as fast as he could to catch me. Three-inch stuffed legs didn't really lend themselves to running, and he ended up tripping and rolling over the side of the bed. Trace tumbled to the ground and kept going, landing right at my feet in a sprawl of crocheted limbs.

"I can't take you, dude. Even if I wanted to, the chances of someone seeing you are too high. You need to…"

"Aaaaaddie," he bleated pitifully.

"Dude, I really shouldn't…"

"AAAAADDDIIIIIEEE!" he continued in a shrill screech that tugged at my heartstrings.

I sighed. "You know, even dead, you're a pain in my ass."

But still, I picked him up and shoved him in my purse before heading out the door. I was halfway down the hallway and going straight for the door when something caught my eye. My mouth fell open as Aunt Missy walked around the counter.

"What on earth are you wearing?"

"What?" she asked, looking down at herself. "Oh, this?" she motioned to the monstrosity that was the astronaut suit. "It's my beekeeping suit."

"Beekeeping suit?" I repeated, eyeing the veil meshing around her face and heavy white gloves. "Why do you need a beekeeping suit?"

"To keep bees, of course," Missy replied, completely serious.

I shook my head. "Whatever you say, Auntie M," I said, starting for the door again.

"I'm off to check in on my hives," she called over her shoulder as she opened one of the French doors to let herself out the back. "There's food in the fridge. The fire extinguisher under the sink is empty, and I keep forgetting to replace it. So, if you start a fire, it's best to call the fire department first and let them handle it instead of worrying about trying to put it out.

"Why is the fire extinguisher empty?" I asked slowly.

My aunt gave me an exaggeratedly slow shrug. "I had a little mishap in the kitchen the other day."

Did I even want to ask what this 'mishap' in the kitchen was?

Nope. No, I did not.

"Alright, Auntie M." Missy let herself out without even asking where I was headed off to, and I didn't waste my good luck sticking around waiting for her to realize it.

I was still shaking my head and chuckling under my breath when I reached the Impala. After all the changes in my world these last couple of weeks, my oddball aunt was the one constant. There was something really reassuring about that.

Sliding in, I tossed my bag onto the passenger seat.

"Baaaa!"

"Oops, sorry," I said, wincing as Trace popped his little stuffed head out of my purse. "Forgot you were in there."

"Biiiiitch."

I snorted as I turned the car on and started down the driveway. It was really hard to take a cursing stuffed animal seriously. If anything, it only made me want to annoy him more so he'd do it again.

Foreigner was playing on the radio as we made our way down Mansion Lane, and my brother let out an excited bleat that I think was supposed to mean "turn it up," so I did. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, singing along under my breath while my brother attempted to do the same.

By the time I parked in the crumbling lot beside the Bitter Brew, my cheeks hurt from biting back a smile. As much as I wanted to laugh at his antics, I didn't think Trace would appreciate me laughing at him. Especially when his singing, and I say that loosely because it was more like one-word exclamations, was in earnest.

"Alright, head down until we're inside." The stuffie pulled his head back down into the darkness of my purse so slowly he looked like he was sinking. "You know, I think I might like you better this way," I teased. "You're far more entertaining."

His muffled insult met my ears, and I was grinning as I walked into the Bitter Brew. The coffee shop was crowded today. There were at least a dozen people scattered through the room, and all of them looked up at me when I walked in. If Zed knew I'd come here without him, he would be pissed. I don't think going to a supernatural hangout was his idea of laying low.

Not that I gave a shit. If he wanted to keep bossing me around, the least he could do was answer a damn text.

Fueled by frustration, I moved to the counter nodding at the barista dude from my last visit.

"Eliza in?" I asked.

He nodded, swinging the bar open for me to pass through. "She's been expecting you."

My steps faltered, and tingles worked their way down my spine. Super. Not sure how to respond to that little grenade, I pushed through the beaded curtain.

"Addison Wells," she greeted me before I was more than a few steps in. "You're late."

"How can I be late when I didn't even know I was coming here until about an hour ago?" I asked.

She gave me an enigmatic smile, pushing a few rouge curls behind her ear. "I take it your summoning did not go as planned?"

"My Latin's a bit rusty," I answered with a hard smile.

She laughed. "Ask you questions, Addison. I will do my best to answer them."

Her sudden willingness to be helpful was almost more unnerving than her knowing before I did that I would be coming to see her today.

I walked up to the counter and plonked my purse down. Tracey's head popped out and looked from me to Eliza.

"Baaaaaad Addie."

I facepalmed. "So the summoning worked," I said. "But my brother didn't come back as a ghost or even able to talk in full sentences. He's defective, although cute this way."

Eliza looked the stuffie over, not seeming remotely surprised. "I'm not hearing the question in there," she said tepidly.

I barely restrained myself from rolling my eyes. "He can't speak correctly. He's a watered-down version of himself. He didn't come back like the other ghosts, and he doesn't talk like them either. Why is that?"

She didn't take her eyes off the sheep. "You're not going to like the answer."

"I rarely do these days."

She snorted. "Your brother's soul has been shredded."

I blinked hard, my mouth falling open. "Shredded? What the fuck does that mean?" I asked, even though the sick feeling low in my stomach told me I already knew what she was about to say.

Her brown eyes slid from the sheep to me. "The Zombie boy has been keeping you in the dark about some things. If you summoned your brother's ghost, which is, in essence, his soul, you've only summoned a fraction of it because a fraction was all that was found."

Anger that was always simmering within me turned to a boil. If my brother's soul was shredded, that meant a reaper was behind it. My thoughts immediately turned to Bucky. By the time I'm done with you, you're going to wish you were never born, fucker. Before I could get carried away planning my revenge, I needed to make sure I had all the facts.

"So you're telling me Trace is a demon?" I asked, recalling my conversation with Bree and Zed.

Eliza nodded. "For now, he is likely close to what you remember. At least in temperament. However, over time, the longer his soul is shredded, the more corrupted he'll be."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the thinning veneer. "How do I un-shred it?"

She regarded me for a long moment before replying, "Zombies have the ability to shred a soul, but they cannot put one back together."

I frowned. "They also can't see the dead or talk to them, but I can," I said in a hard voice. "There's gotta be a way."

Eliza sighed. "I'm sorry, Addison. If there is a way, I do not know it, and I know a great deal."

I looked around the shop, biting back the fighting words I wanted to sling at her even though it wasn't her fault. Instead of arguing, which was basically my default, I turned the conversation to something that might help me find the answer I needed. "You said Zed was keeping me in the dark with some things. What kind of thing?"

Eliza smiled, and I got the impression she was enjoying this.

"You're not ready to know just yet," she said cryptically.

"Seriously?" I snapped. "You don't just dangle something like that in front of me and then be like 'mmm actually no…' What the hell, Eliza?!" I demanded, slapping my palms down on the counter. The wood creaked.

Eliza looked from the counter to me, her expression completely unfazed. "You're a smart girl, Addison. You already know he's keeping secrets. You just don't know what. Next time you see him, ask him about the history of Zombies. Ask him how they were created. You know their purpose, but not their origin." She turned away to grab a rag and began wiping down the counter.

"Okay…" I drawled. "Why can't you just tell me now?"

"Because," she said. "Things need to happen. Things that have not come to pass."

I groaned. How much more fucking vague could she get? "You know what? Fine. Play your mind games. I'll get my own answers," I said, turning to leave. I already had an idea just how to do it.

"Be careful, Addison," Eliza called after me, almost like she was reading my mind, but I ignored her.

As I stormed out of her shop, my phone was in my hand and my finger was pressing speed dial.

Bree answered on the first ring. "Hey, girl! Dying of boredom yet?"

"Bree, I need a favor."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't think Zed is going to like any of what she's planning...