7
It wasn’t a straight path. It wound its way among the grave markers and headstones like a drunken sailor, but without all the swearing. I was in a graveyard, after all. Decorum for the dead and all. Mentioning the dead brought up a few tidbits David had told me about the life of a incubus, or in my case a succubus. Immortality specifically came to mind. I could live forever and not have to worry about taking a dirt nap like the many others who’s graves stood around me.
A chilly wind flitted by me. I shuddered and wrapped my coat closer against myself. “Don’t speak ill of the dead, Liz. They’re liable to get angry at you,” I muttered to myself.
“These ones usually rest easy.”
I yelped and spun to my left towards the source of the voice. Nothing there but a statue of an angel
