Free Grave Memory: An Alex Craft Novel by Kalayna Price Page B

environment,” Tamara was saying. I’d been so caught up in my own thoughts that I hadn’t been listening, but it sounded like she was still talking about the mugs and I hadn’t missed anything important.
    “So you didn’t tell me the date you two picked,” I said, picking up the steaming coffeepot.
    Tamara took the pot away from me, which was probably a good plan. Color was returning, but the world was still blurry. After she filled both mugs, she handed me one and then added a heaping spoonful of creamer to the other. She didn’t ask if I wanted any, we’d been friends long enough for her to know I took my coffee black.
    I clutched the hot mug and inhaled the heady aroma, but a pang of sorrow washed through me at the scent. Death loved coffee. It was something we shared, literally. Evenbefore I’d realized I was a planeweaver, Death and I discovered if we were in physical contact, he could interact with whatever else I was touching. Both of us holding one mug, while he watched me with those deep hazel eyes over the rim as he took a sip? I swallowed. It wasn’t one memory, it was dozens. Every time I drank coffee—and I drank a lot of coffee—I half expected him to show up, that easy smile on his face. But he didn’t, or at least, he hadn’t in over a month.
    “I’d offer you a penny for you’re thoughts, but they look more valuable than that,” Tamara said, and I startled, sloshing hot coffee on my fingers.
    I didn’t yelp, or curse, but it was a near thing.
    “Napkin?” Tamara held out something I could barely make out, and I accepted the napkin. As I dabbed at the spilt coffee, Tamara said, “So you were pretty deep in thought.”
    I shrugged. “It was—” I waved a hand, not finishing because I didn’t want to talk about Death and I couldn’t lie and say it was nothing. “But you were going to tell me the date you and Ethan picked.”
    For a moment I didn’t think she was going to let me get away with changing the subject, but then she said, “Well, after much debate, we’ve settled on October fifteenth.”
    I nodded, my lips pressing together as I considered the date. “That gives us a little over a year to plan the wedding. This should be fun.”
    Tamara was so silent the very air in the room stilled. I squinted, trying to see her expression. I couldn’t.
    “What is it?” I asked. Silence. “Tam?”
    “Not October of next year,” she said, her voice quiet. Too quiet. “This October.”
    “That’s less than a month away.”
    “Well, you would have known sooner if you and Holly hadn’t stood me up for dinner last week.” Her voice was most certainly not quiet anymore.
    I cringed. “It wasn’t intentional. Something—”
    She cut me off. “Came up. I know. I heard the excuse already.”
    A lump of guilt settled in my stomach, and the coffee that had smelled tempting a moment before no longer held any appeal. Everything was so complicated these days. I opened my mouth to tell her about the trips to the Eternal Bloom, of how time sometimes got a little screwy—she already knew the VIP room was a pocket of Faerie. I’d told her that much after losing three days there a few months back. But the reasons we were going was Holly’s secret, not mine, and it wasn’t my place to share. I snapped my mouth shut so hard my jaw clicked, and Tamara turned back to the file on her desk.
    I changed the subject. “So after five months of being engaged, why the sudden rush?”
    Tamara’s chair creaked, the sound loud in the suddenly thick silence.
    “You’re not—” I started, but she cut me off.
    “I see only one abnormality in this autopsy.”
    I wasn’t going to let her get away with that. “You are. You’re pregnant.”
    Again her chair squeaked, and even if I couldn’t see her features, I could feel her glare. “Do you want to hear about Kingly’s autopsy results or not?”
    “Yes, but…” I suddenly didn’t know what to say. It seemed we were all keeping secrets, and