The morning sun glared off shop windows as Ethan and I emerged from the subway station. My eyes burned, it was so much brighter out now than when we entered the station, this is why I don't work the day shift, hiding in the shadows is so much easier when there isn't a fireball in the sky lighting everything up.

I scanned the busy sidewalk, trying to chart our path through the commuters, shoppers, and early bird tourists already crowding the pavement. Cass's bookshop was only six blocks away, but those six blocks suddenly felt like miles with my undead companion in tow.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," Ethan said, shuffling alongside me. His feet bulged in the ill-fitting morgue clogs. He scraped his feet along the concrete with each step.

"Just try to stay upright." I caught his elbow as he wobbled, nearly colliding with a woman pushing a stroller. "And maybe don't talk so much. Conserve your energy."

"For what? It's not like I'm going to run out of breath." Despite his unsteady gait, his grin was pure mischief.

I shot him a look. "You know, for a dead guy, you're surprisingly-"

Movement near a shop window caught my eye. It was a man in a dark coat, he turned just as I looked his way, it looked almost like the business man on the subway. He lingered near a display of cell phones. Something seemed off, was he watching us?

I grabbed Ethan's arm and veered left, ignoring his surprised yelp. "This way. Shortcut."

The alley squeezed between two brick buildings, narrow enough that we had to walk single file. Ethan tripped over a discarded soda can, the clang echoing off the close walls.

"You know," he said, kicking the can aside, "you can tell me where we are going so you don't have to yank me around so much."

"Yeah, well, being tailed by Mystery Man back there isn't great for the whole 'staying under the radar' plan." I checked over my shoulder, but the alley's entrance remained clear. No sign of our possible shadow.

Ethan frowned. "You think we're being followed?"

"Not sure. But in my line of work, coincidences are usually anything but." Another glance back, still empty. "Let's just keep moving. The quicker we get to Cass's, the better."

We rounded a corner, and I almost walked straight into Ethan's back. He'd stopped short, staring down at his shoes. No, not his shoes - his feet, which were now his socks on the grimy pavement.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, checking the alley again. "We need to-"

"Walking, if were being followed, I want to be able to walk." He said, taking a slight step in just his socks. "Huh. That's... actually better."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, silently counting to five. "Ethan, I know this is all new to you, but we're kind of in a situation here. Can we wait to get comfortable until we're not potentially being stalked by an unknown creep?"

He wiggled his toes against the dirty concrete. "Have you ever tried to walk in shoes two sizes too small? It's like wearing bricks. Awkward, unbalanced bricks."

"Well, unfortunately, Zombie Foot Locker isn't open yet, so you'll just have to deal with-"

Voices drifted from the far end of the alley, accompanied by the clipped beats of multiple pairs of feet. I tensed, after the incident with Williams and the bathroom, the last thing I needed was to explain why I was lurking in an alley with a man in socks and scrubs.

"Okay, new plan." I looked back and scooped up the abandoned clogs just behind me. I shoved them into my bag. "No shoes, no service. We'll figure out the footwear situation once we're not in imminent danger of discovery by the Boys in Blue."

Ethan raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you one of the Boys in Blue?"

"Right now, I'm more like the Girl in Deep Trouble if anyone sees us. So move."

The alley widened as we rounded the corner, revealing two electric vans parked behind a nondescript business. My gaze darted to the open rear doors, noting the scattered tools and spools of wire. Repair work, not suspicious in itself, but potential cover is we needed it.

The slight sound of footsteps echoed from the adjoining alley, the pace seemed to quicken. My hand drifted toward my holster, a reflexive twitch I quickly stilled.

"Under the van," I hissed, nudging Ethan toward the nearest vehicle. "Now."

He balked, confusion and irritation warring on his too-pale face. "What? Why would I—"

"Just do it." The words left my mouth with an unexpected force, an authority I rarely used outside of interrogations.

To my surprise, Ethan dropped to the pavement instantly, his body obeying even as his face contorted with reluctance. "Wait, no, I don't want to—" His protest faded to a muffled grunt as he shimmied beneath the van, the space barely accommodating his lanky frame.

I followed suit, the asphalt cold and gritty against my palms. The chassis pressed down on us, a strange echo of the morgue's metal tables. From one claustrophobic space to another, I thought wryly, settling next to Ethan in the cramped confines.

"This is insane," he muttered, his voice reverberating oddly against the metal. "I'm not some kind of puppet, you can't just—"

"Quiet." The command left my lips with a sharpness I hadn't intended, an uncharacteristic burst of authority. Ethan's jaw snapped shut mid-word, his eyes widening with a startling mix of shock and alarm. A muffled noise escaped his throat, confusion and indignation mingling in a strange harmony.

Did I do that? The thought flickered through my mind, a match struck in the dark recesses of uncertainty. I'd given orders before, countless times in the line of duty, but never with such immediate, unquestioning results. Ethan stared at me, his expression a silent demand for answers I didn't have.

The crunch of footsteps pulled my attention back to the alley, a reminder of the pressing danger. I held up a hand, a silent order for stillness, and Ethan complied, his body going rigid beside me. Too rigid, a voice whispered in my head, too obedient. But I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Polished brown loafers entered my field of vision, maddeningly familiar yet impossible to place with certainty. The businessman from the train? I wondered, but the memory slipped away, lost in the adrenaline of the moment. The shoes paused, as if considering the vans, then continued down the alley at a purposeful clip.

I counted silently, marking the retreating steps, each one a tiny victory. Beside me, Ethan vibrated with tension, his breath coming in shallow, controlled bursts. He's freaking out, I realized, a pang of guilt twisting in my chest. And I'm the one who made him like this.

The footsteps faded, replaced by the distant hum of traffic, a mundane soundtrack to our bizarre predicament. I exhaled slowly, the tightness in my shoulders easing a fraction. "Okay, I think he's gone. You can talk—"

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Ethan coughed, his voice returning in a rush of jumbled words and gasping breaths. "What the hell was that? I couldn't—you told me to—it was like my brain just shut off!"

I stared at him, realization and unease hitting me in my gut. "I... I don't know. I didn't mean to..." The words felt flimsy, inadequate in the face of his obvious distress. "We can figure it out later. Right now, we need to..."

"Hey!" A gruff voice shattered the alley's quiet, a jagged intrusion. "You better not be messing with my van!"

Hands seized my ankles, dragging me unceremoniously from beneath the vehicle. I found myself blinking up at a scowling man in a utility jumpsuit, his face a thundercloud of suspicion.

"This isn't what it looks like," I began, raising my hands placatingly, a gesture I'd practiced a thousand times. Beside me, Ethan scrambled to his feet, swaying slightly, a newborn foal on unsteady legs.

"Oh, really?" The electrician crossed beefy arms, his glare bouncing between us like a pinball. "Because it looks like you're trying to boost my catalytic converter."

I reached slowly for my badge, the movement deliberate and nonthreatening, a dance I knew by heart. "Detective Kay. We were just—"

"Hiding from a murderer," Ethan supplied helpfully, his voice a little too bright. "You know, as one does."

The electrician's eyebrows shot up, his scowl dissolving into bafflement, a transition I might have found amusing under different circumstances. I closed my eyes briefly, counting to three before fixing Ethan with a look that promised a detailed discussion of 'things we don't say to civilians' later.

"We were pursuing a suspect," I said carefully, holding up my badge, a talisman of authority. "He seems to have given us the slip. You didn't happen to see anyone else in the alley, did you?"

The electrician frowned, his gaze flicking to the mouth of the alley, a brief consultation with his memory. "Nope. Been inside for the last twenty minutes, running cable. You two are the only ones I've seen."

I nodded, sliding my badge back into my pocket, a familiar weight. "Thank you for your cooperation. We'll just be on our way."

The electrician grunted, his suspicion mellowing to a sort of wary curiosity, a look I'd seen a hundred times. "Yeah, well, next time maybe don't go crawling under people's vans without asking. Liable to get yourself hurt that way."

"Duly noted." I grabbed Ethan's elbow, steering him back toward the street, a lifeline in a sea of uncertainty. "Come on, let's go."

And figure out what the hell just happened, I added silently, the thought a leaden weight in my mind. Before it happens again.

They left the electrician shaking his head, his mutterings about "crazy cops" fading behind them as we hurried back to the main thoroughfare. I kept a firm grip on Ethan's elbow, guiding him through the mid-morning crowd with a purposeful stride that discouraged eye contact. My mind raced, trying to process the implications of what had just happened in the alley. The way Ethan had obeyed my commands, the instant, unquestioning compliance—it was both thrilling and terrifying.

Did I do that? The question echoed in my thoughts, a whisper of doubt and possibility. I'd always known my abilities came with a price, but this—this felt like a step into uncharted territory. A power I hadn't asked for and wasn't sure I wanted.

Beside me, Ethan walked in silence, his bare feet surprisingly nimble on the sun-warmed pavement. I could feel the tension radiating off him, the unspoken questions and fears that mirrored my own. What else was he capable of now? What else might _I_ be capable of making him do?

"Katie," Ethan said softly, his voice barely audible above the street noise. "We need to talk about what happened back there."

I glanced at him, taking in the worry lines etched around his eyes, the tightness in his jaw. He's scared, I realized, a pang of guilt twisting in my chest. Scared of me. Of what I can do.

"I know," I said, my own voice just as low. "But not here. Not now. We need to get to Cass's place first, somewhere safe."

Ethan nodded, a jerky bob of his head that conveyed his reluctance and acceptance in equal measure. "Okay. But we are going to talk about it. Whatever... this is." He gestured vaguely between us, encompassing the strange new bond that had formed when I'd brought him back.

"We will," I promised, meaning it. "I just... I need some time to think. To figure out what it all means."

We walked in silence for another block, each lost in our own thoughts. My mind spun with possibilities and implications, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on my shoulders. I'd brought Ethan back, and now I had to deal with the consequences, whatever they might be.

One problem at a time, I told myself, focusing on the immediate task of reaching Cass's shop. First, we get somewhere safe. Then we figure out the rest.

But even as I formed the plan, I couldn't quite shake the feeling that I was in over my head. That the choices I'd made, the powers I'd used, had set something in motion I couldn't control.

No going back now, I thought grimly, glancing at Ethan's tense profile. For either of us.

We rounded the corner, Cass's shop front coming into view, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Almost there. A few more steps, and we'd be off the streets, away from prying eyes and the threat of discovery.

A few more steps, and maybe, just maybe, we could start to untangle the knots we'd tied ourselves in. The knots I'd tied us in, with my reckless use of a power I didn't fully understand.

One problem at a time, I reminded myself, reaching for the shop door. And right now, the problem is staying alive long enough to figure out the rest.

The bell above the door jingled cheerfully as we stepped inside Cass's bookstore, a jarring contrast to the tension thrumming through my veins. Cass looked up from the counter, her eyes widening as she took in our disheveled appearance—Ethan's bare feet and wrinkled scrubs, my tight expression and white-knuckled grip on my bag.

"Katie? What happened? Are you—" Cass's gaze darted to Ethan, a flicker of appreciation quickly replaced by concern. "Who's your friend?"

I sighed, exhaustion and relief battling for dominance. "Cass, meet Ethan. My latest resurrection."

Ethan raised a hand in a half-hearted wave, his attempt at a charming smile coming out more like a grimace. "Hey. Nice to meet you. Sorry about the whole 'being dead' thing."

Cass blinked, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly for a moment. Then, with a shake of her head, she stepped out from behind the counter, her expression shifting into one of determination and barely concealed interest.

"Is he single?" she pretended to whisper the question knowing it was anything but.

I closed my eyes briefly, a headache blooming behind my temples. "He's dead, Cass. Or was, until about an hour ago."

Cass's eyes widened, realization dawning. "Wait, you mean... I thought you were joking... but I thought you could only bring them back for a few seconds? This is..." She trailed off, her gaze flicking between Ethan and me, a silent question hanging in the air.

I nodded, the motion feeling like it took more effort than it should. "It's new. And complicated. Can we...?" I gestured toward the stairs, the promise of privacy and a place to sit down suddenly more appealing than anything.

Cass nodded, her expression softening. "Of course. Come on up. I have a feeling this is going to be a long story."

I let out a huff of laughter, the sound edged with a hint of hysteria. "You have no idea."

As we followed Cass up the narrow staircase to her apartment, I felt a flicker of hope amid the chaos. With Cass's help, maybe we could figure this out. Maybe we could find a way to undo what I'd done, to put Ethan back where he belonged.

And if we can't? A traitorous voice whispered in the back of my mind. If he's stuck like this, stuck with you, forever?

I pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the warmth of Cass's hand on my arm, the solid presence of Ethan beside me. One problem at a time. One step at a time.

The TV was on when we entered Cass's cozy living room, the low murmur of voices providing a strange sense of normalcy. I sank onto the overstuffed couch, my legs suddenly feeling like they might give out at any moment.

On the screen, a gorgeous reporter stood in front of a familiar building, her perfect hair and makeup a stark contrast to the flashing police lights behind her.

"...no suspects at this time," she was saying, her voice a carefully practiced mix of concern and professionalism. "But sources say the murders appear to be connected to the art scene."

I sat up straighter, my exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "That's Megan Cho. She's the best crime reporter in the city and the biggest thorn in our side."

Ethan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "You think she knows something about our case?"

I shook my head, my mind already racing ahead. "Not yet. But she's convinced many of our male detectives to leak information... Hell, she's got information out of me before."

"How?" Ethan asked, not putting it all together.

I motion toward the TV, "Just look at her!"

Megan was just wrapping up her report with her killer smile. But before the report ended, I focused on the frat house behind Megan. There had to be something we missed.

Cass frowned, her eyes flicking to Ethan. "And what about him?" She said, almost as if he were not in the room. "We can't exactly hide a walking, talking dead man forever."

I sighed, the weight of the situation settling heavily on my shoulders. "I know. But one problem at a time, right? First, we need to figure out what's happening to me. To us."

I glanced at Ethan, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression was unreadable. A flicker of unease passed through me, a reminder of the strange new connection between us, the power I'd never asked for and didn't fully understand.

One problem at a time, I reminded myself, forcing my attention back to the TV. The reporters were now onto the latest traffic jam during the morning commute.

I looked to Ethan who could barely look me in the eye. "We need to see what we can do, so what happened back there never happens again."

My mind was made up, a argument in my head that I didn't really put together was even happening until this moment was now settled. We needed to know how all this worked... before I do something that gets someone seriously hurt.