By Colleen Foley
I could feel Kaia’s gift working inside me.
It was dark, but not the slick, hateful blackness of the infection.
This was the sultry heat of a still August night, and it felt good.
At the graveyard, Seth followed as I walked one branching path after another.
“Nate, have you been to Marie Laveau’s grave before?”
I looked back over my shoulder and grinned.
“Nope.”
I
stopped in front of a small, white mausoleum festooned with offerings
one would expect to see strewn before the throne of a Queen. Kaia’s
power surged through me.
“Seth, meet Marie Laveau.”
“Nate, how…?”
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