The fighting around us did not stop, chaos continuing in every direction, but the space directly around Callahan seemed to hold an unnatural stillness, like the violence itself was afraid to touch him.
You're supposed to be dead, I said, my voice steadier than I felt, Ronan's good hand finding mine and gripping tight.
Supposed to be is doing a lot of work in that sentence, Callahan said, almost amused. Death is remarkably useful when you want to work without interference. Nobody looks twice at a ghost's business dealings.
You killed my brother, I said, the words scraping raw from my throat, all the grief and fury of the last eight months finally finding a target that deserved every ounce of it.
I removed an obstacle, Callahan corrected, tone still infuriatingly calm. Your brother was c
