Page 18 of All Hallows Game

“What do you feel like wearing, Cat?” Tor asked. I hadn’t noticed him opening my wardrobe, hadn’t noticed much beyond the feel of Miz’s gentle fingers on my hands. I couldn’t focus on anything else. He made sure every last trace of blood was gone, like he understood even a single spot would send me into a backslide, and then let go.

I mashed my lips into a flat line to stop my sound of protest. I couldn’t ask him to stay when I was the one who pushed him away.

“Cat,” Tor repeated, softer. “The towel is a great look on you, but it can’t be warm.”

“I’m fine,” I dismissed, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“That’s the shock talking,” Death disagreed, taking a step like he wanted to come closer, like he’d sweep me into one of his all-consuming hugs that made everything feel okay again.

“I’ll wear whatever,” I said, and realised how curt and rude that sounded. “Thank you.”

When Tor pulled out fleece-lined leggings and my favourite knitted jumper with a giant yellow duck on it, I clenched my jaw to fight back tears. He raided my underwear drawer next, and clearly expected to help me into them when he gestured at me to unfasten the towel.

“I can dress myself,” I protested, but allowed him to help me to my feet.

“We’re pretending, remember?” he whispered with a wink that made my whole chest cave in. The tears I’d been fighting rushed free. “Miz,” he hissed, turning to the silent man who’d returned to the corner after cleaning the blood from me. “Oh,” Tor breathed.

“Yeah,” Misery whispered. “It’s not me.”

“What?” I asked, flicking the tears off my cheeks and snatching the underwear from Tor’s hands, shimmying into my knickers without removing the towel.

“Cat,” Death said gently. “Just get dressed, sweetheart, we won’t look.”

It was nothing they hadn’t seen before. I ignored the way my face flamed red at the reminder, ignored the way more tears fell at the reality they’d never look at me the same way, never want me, touch me, that way again.

I got my bra on before Tor took over, bundling me into an oversized T-shirt and the jumper, brushing the tears off my cheeks. The care made me cry harder no matter how much I tried to stop the tears. My shoulders shook with the force of them when Tor pulled me into a hug, Death fitting himself against my back.

I blinked my eyes clear, searching for Misery despite myself, despite the fact I told him I’d never cared about him, despite his hand driving a knife into my best friend’s chest. He was watching me, watching us, closer than I’d expected. There wasn’t the jealousy I expected on his face, and neither was there the hatred that had hardened his eyes when he shoved me into that alcove. There was something like horror, something like understanding. His eyes went from me to the duck plushie, the only bit of life in the room, the only colour.

“What happened, Cat?” he breathed, putting pieces together that scared me.

“I told you—” I began, my throat swollen and raw.

“What happened with us?” he corrected, his voice a strange blend of softness and steel.

I swallowed hard, glancing away. I couldn’t look at any of them, so I closed my eyes, letting more tears cascade down my face.

“What did she do?”

I stiffened, my breath rasping. “You know what she did,” I said, pulling away from Tor, from Death, even if it made me sick. I wanted to stay there forever, safe in their arms. But it was only pretend. “She cursed us.”

I sank onto my bed, not particularly caring that my legs were bare. “I’m tired. Thank you for coming.” I glanced up, forcing myself to look at them. “I mean it. Thank you. After everything, after the way I hurt you—I probably shouldn’t have called you,” I said to Tor.

“You call me any fucking time you need me,” he disagreed, the volume of his voice making me jump.

“But—”

“No,” he said firmly. “We might not be together anymore, and the curse might have messed with our emotions, but no matter what, you’re important to me. I give a shit about a grand total of three people, and they’re all in this room. You’re my friend, so you call me when you need me. I missed this place anyway.” His mouth flicked up on one side. “Best caviar in the mortal realm.”

I knew damn well that wasn’t true, but he was trying to make me smile so I obliged. It was weak and wobbly, but it was the thought that counted.

“Okay,” I agreed, his words meaning so much more than he could ever know.

“He’s right,” Death said in that caramel voice that felt like a hug itself. “No matter what, you’re important to me too, Cat.”

I pressed my lips flat, my bottom lip dangerously weak. “You, too,” was all I could manage.

Finally, he was admitting that was all there was between us—friendship. I was lucky they’d even let me back into their lives. Their friendship was a gift, and I’d sneered at it. What a selfish, ungrateful idiot.

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