Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Picking the jar up from an empty but spotless refrigerator, he held it with both hands as far in front of him as he could manage. He speed-walked to the front door Sky had left standing wide open.
He squinted and blinked against the bright sunlight as he stepped out onto the porch. Thankfully, his eyes adjusted to take in the scene of an older, gray-haired man in a blue letter-carrier’s uniform covered in light scratches. He was using a folded magazine to fend off thorny vines lunging at him. Sky stood next to him, smacking at the roses with his house slipper.
“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! You never go after the mailman!” Sky shouted at his roses. “What has gotten into you today?” His hair was a golden halo around his head, shining in the morning sun.
“Sky! The pickles!” Nolan called out, hesitating on the stairs. He was using both hands to hold the jar. If he descended to the yard, he’d have no way to protect himself.
It didn’t matter. The roses either smelled the pickles or recognized the word. They stopped attacking the mailman and turned their pink-blossomed heads to Nolan. Yeah, that wasn’t creepy at all.
“Oh my God, you’re a lifesaver,” Sky groaned.
Nolan couldn’t celebrate that minor victory. The rose vines were now creeping toward him from almost all sides. “What do I do? They’re watching me.”
Sky bent over, trying to catch his breath, and waved one hand at him. “Pitch a few into the bushes. They’ll settle down. Try not to spill the brine on you.”
He removed the lid and placed it on the porch. Sticking two fingers into the icy brine, he winced when he squished a pulpy, almost fleshy-feeling pickle. Not wanting to think too much about it, he pulled it out and tossed it into the nearest bush. He repeated the process until all the vines had retreated to the bushes. The sounds of crunching and happy growls filled the early-morning air.
The mailman swore at both of them and ran the second the vines left him. At Sky’s feet were a scattering of bills, junk mail, and pink rose petals. Sky muttered to himself as he squatted and gathered up the mail.
“Ugh. Most of this isn’t even mine,” he complained as he ascended the stairs. “I’ll have to go door to door, giving my neighbors their junk mail. Won’t that be fun?”
Nolan replaced the lid on the jar and frowned at his neighbor. “Sky, the roses? What happened? Are they supposed to be fed regularly?”
Sky sighed and glanced at the pink rosebushes. Now that he’d fed them, they were still, appearing to be normal plants once again. The only sign of trouble was the petals and leaves that carpeted the sidewalk and yard as if Sky had gone wild with a hedge trimmer.
“They get their nutrients from the soil like all plants. The pickles are a bonus. The reason they’re ‘alive’ like this,” Sky stressed, even making the air quotes with a couple of fingers he pried loose from the mail, “is from my brand of magic leaking into the soil. It means that whatever woke up the graveyards must have also agitated my roses.”
“I’m afraid to ask, but is there anything in your backyard that’s in danger of running wild?”
Sky shook his head. “I’ve got some shade plants that benefit from my magic, but they aren’t aggressive like this. The roses are a security measure. However, I need to go to at least one or two of the graveyards that woke up. Find out what’s causing this and make sure it doesn’t get worse.”
“Okay. Let me get my wallet and keys. You get dressed. I’ll drive.”
The adorable necromancer stared up at him for a second, his lips parted as if begging to be kissed. “Really?”
Nolan nodded. “Yes, you’re too tired to drive safely; plus it will give you a chance to work through all the messages on your phone. I’m sure Mad, Red, and Moon are all wondering what the hell is going on.”
He would also sleep easier knowing Sky was there to keep the dead in their graves.
Chapter 3
Skylar Wallace
“How bad is it?” Nolan inquired after Sky had been scrolling on his phone and replying to his friends for several minutes in silence.
Seriously, Sky could not express how amazing this man was. Not only had he been waiting with the car running when Sky emerged from his house, but he’d even had two travel mugs of coffee for them.
After agreeing to head to the graveyard where they’d met up with Owen, Nolan drove the car, allowing Sky to work in comfortable silence.
“Well…” Sky began and huffed. “Mad and Red have lost their minds freaking out. Moon is calmer, but he’s still in Boston, which hasn’t been affected by whatever this is. He’s on his way back now and has promised to help. I’ve told them I had nothing to do with this, and we’re going to investigate. Both Mad and Red are watching their chat groups and witch forums for any hints of who might have done this or what’s happening.”