Page 45 of All Hallows Game

“He’s going to torture Pain, but don’t worry, they’ll both probably enjoy it,” Tor muttered. “Not in that way,” he added, seeing my expression. “Pain is the living embodiment of agony; he’s a sick bastard. But Death will get the truth out of him.”

“You’re not worried,” I realised, taking a step closer, wanting to hug him but aware his composure was fragile.

“About Death? No. About Miz?” He blew out a hard breath, perching on the bed as the anger seemed to drain from him all at once. “You gave him your ring,” he said, noticing the gleam of metal on Miz’s finger.

I shrugged, distracted by Death’s absence. Shouldn’t one of us go with him? I didn’t like the thought of him being alone when he was so upset. And he had no backup despite leaving to confront another god. A god like Nightmare.

“He’s Death, beautiful,” Tor said, tiredness entering his voice. His shoulders were rounded where he slouched on the bed, something helpless about the hands that lay limp in his lap. “He’s the most powerful of us all, and Pain’s a bastard but he’s not an idiot.”

I swallowed, approaching the bed. A rough sigh expelled from my lungs when Tor wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. “If he gets hurt, I’ll punch you in the dick.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he replied tenderly, leaning closer to kiss my cheek. “Come here, I need a hug from my best girl.”

“I’m your only girl,” I huffed, but allowed Tor to pull me down beside him, leaning into his warmth. I wrapped my arms tight around him, and my heart stuttered when he dropped his head onto my shoulder, hiding his face.

“You have to wake up, Miz,” I murmured, running my hand up and down Tor’s back, stroking the base of his neck. “You have to wake up.”

I hated that death hung like an invisible cloud around us, hated its sweet, cloying taste on my tongue, its scent stuffed up my nostrils. It coated my stomach until I felt sick. Misery was dying. What if Death interrogated Pain and found nothing? What if the last time I saw Miz, he believed I’d never cared for him? What if I never got to tell him I’d lied, and my emotions didn’t change a single fraction even when the curse dropped.

I opened my mouth to tell him, the words on the tip of my tongue even if he was unconscious and wouldn’t truly hear me, but I choked on a sudden cough. Copper coated my tongue, flecking the pale sheets. Fear doused me like an ice bath.

“Cat?” Tor demanded, his grip tightening on me, frantic hands turning my face to him. He inspected me with an urgency that spoke of panic. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I rasped, swallowing blood. I remembered the haunted look in Virgil’s eyes and wondered if I wore the same expression. “I’m fine, my throat’s just sore.”

But I was shaken by the reminder that Nightmare had her hooks in me. Curse or not, I was under her control. Miz hadn’t needed a curse to be her puppet, and neither did I.

I tried to push away the fear, reaching across the blood-spattered bed for Miz’s pale hand and holding on tight. “You have to wake up, Miz. You have to.”

I imagined giving the middle finger to the miasma of death that hung around us, imagined punching it in its diaphanous face until it released my Misery and gave him back to me. He’s not yours, he’s mine, and you can’t take him. Not now, not ever.

Tor and I were so close together, wound so tightly, that our shoulders knocked together when we jumped. Miz’s eyes flew all the way open, the golden of his irises burning so vividly, almost glowing, his mouth hanging open as his hands clawed at the sheets. I caught one; Tor lunged for the other, holding on so tightly that Miz couldn’t escape from us again.

“Cat…?” he croaked, darkness bleeding from his hands, twining around my knuckles like he was scared I’d let go. He pushed up until he was propped against the elaborate headboard, looking vulnerable and frail in a way that made my heart pull tight.

“Oh, charming,” Tor muttered, but there was no missing the relief weakening his shoulders.

“Tor,” Miz sobbed, his attention swinging to him. Tears gathered like liquid gold in his eyes before spilling down his face, and Tor and I moved at the same time, throwing ourselves across the bed to hug Miz tightly.

“Did I—” Misery gasped, his breathing spinning out of control. “Did I kill him?”

I brushed a lock of hair from his eye. “Kill who, sweetheart?”

“Death,” he managed to reply, though his frantic breaths made it difficult to speak.

“Of course you didn’t,” Tor said firmly. “He’s fine, just hunting down Pain for giving you whatever you used to bind your power.”

Misery’s face crumpled. He covered it with both hands, his shoulders shaking, and Tor and I exchanged a swift glance.

“Why would you think you killed him, Miz?” I asked so gently, a voice I used so rarely I hardly recognised it. I ran my hands through his hair in slow strokes.

“I dreamed that I—I killed you. All of you. And he’s not here.”

“He’ll be back soon,” Tor promised in a voice equally gentle. He scooted up the bed, his back to the headboard, and pulled Miz between his legs, wrapping himself around the trembling man. “You didn’t hurt any of us. We’re all okay. You’re okay.”

Misery squeezed his eyes shut. I wanted to find Death and bring him back but I didn’t know where Pain lived. I didn’t have the first idea where to start looking, and every instinct I had told me to stay beside Miz. I also, selfishly, didn’t want to be anywhere near someone called Pain. Miz had only inflicted misery on me once, and that was by mistake, but I knew not every god would be as careful as my husb—as these men.

I couldn’t find Death for Miz. Instead, I slipped off the bed and crossed the elaborately decorated room to the huge golden cage I’d noticed against the far wall, although cage was too small a word. It was huge, and took up the entire wall, and had so many different rooms and sections it was like a mini palace.

---