Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)

Nothing about the body changed. It had already been dead and it was still held immobile by the spell, but the soul was free. For a long moment it was almost too bright to look at, a shimmering crystalline yellow. But souls can’t exist without a body, and in a heartbeat the glow dimmed, the form solidifying as the soul transitioned to the purgatory landscape of the land of the dead.

If I could have stumbled back in shock, I would have, but I couldn’t even blink in surprise. Not because the soul transitioned—that I had expected—but because the ghost now standing in front of me was that of a young woman.

I glanced from the balding middle-aged man to the woman who may not have been old enough to drink. Ghosts weren’t like shades. While shades were always an exact representation of the person at the moment of death, ghosts tended to reflect how a person perceived himself. Appearing a little younger or more attractive was common. I supposed it was even possible that if someone identified across gender lines, their ghost might reflect that discrepancy. But this ghost was a drastically different age as well as being a different gender and ethnicity. And that was unheard-of.

The ghost-girl looked around, no longer inhibited by the spell still holding the body she’d been inside. Her dark eyes grew large and round, and her motions took on the frantic quickness of panic.

A panic that didn’t last long, as a figure appeared beside her. He was dressed from head to toe in gray and carried a silver skull-topped cane. The Gray Man. A soul collector.

I wanted to scream No. To run between him and the girl, who clearly hadn’t belonged in the dead body. Things didn’t add up here, and I wanted to talk to the ghost.

But I still couldn’t move.

I stood silently frozen in place as the Gray Man reached out, grabbed the soul, and sent her on to wherever souls went next. Then he turned and looked at the body she’d just vacated. His expression gave away nothing as his gazed moved to me. He gave me one stern shake of his head, which could have meant anything from the fact that he also didn’t know what was going on or that he knew but it wasn’t any business of mine.

Then he vanished.

Of course, that was the moment the shopkeeper released the spell. I stumbled back as the now truly dead body collapsed.

I barely registered the gasps and screams. I was far too busy staring at the spot where the Gray Man and the ghost had been. She hadn’t belonged in the wrongly animated body. So the question was, how the hell had she gotten into someone else’s body? And why?

Kalayna Price's books