Page 124 of The Girl Who Inherits the Dead

“Nobody,” Maison says with a sigh, and exhaustion eats at him, she can feel it. “It’s…it’s a useless spell now. Just alive enough to show up on the carpet.”

The carpet itself is the beige type found in most rental properties, completely unremarkable.

“The bed has an anti-dust spell,” Maison mumbles.

“Good,” Delina says, then flops over on the bed, holding her hand out to him to join her.

They hadn’t spoken much on the drive, both too full of jangly nerves to carry on too much of a conversation, but Delina can read the apprehension on his face as clearly as if he had spoken it.

“Unless you want to crash on the couch or split a room with Gurlien,” Delina says, which breaks him out of it enough that he rolls his eyes, shucking off his flannel shirt and kicking off his shoes.

Still tentative, he crawls under the comforter with her, and…

…and they hadn’t slept in the same bed since the night she brought him back from the dead.

Immediately, she curls up against him, and he throws his arm over her, tugging her in close.

Like nothing had ever happened.

He breathes in, deep, a tremor somewhere in there.

“Is this okay?” Delina asks, after a long moment of silence, but him wide aware against her. “It’s been…a bit of a day.”

“Yeah,” Maison says, and his voice is a little rough. “Yeah, it has been.” As if to punctuate his words, he pulls her in tighter.

They had agreed to sleep in, to leave mid-afternoon and travel mostly at night, but the strangeness still pulls at Delina.

Of sleeping in yet another strange bed in another strange place. Of the noises and creaking in the apartment, of the still softly glowing magic.

“When it’s safe, I want to go back to the condo in Prescott,” Delina starts, speaking into the quiet of the room. “Not permanently, just to find some of our things.”

“Definitely not permanently,” Maison mumbles against her hair. “But. Yes.”

“Get your art supplies, get my things, then…”

“Then we’ll figure out which of your properties we should visit next,” Maison continues softly. “Tour around in them, find the best views.”

“Yeah,” Delina says, and sleep tugs against her, finally, pulling her breathing deeper, weighing at her eyelids. “We’ll figure it out.”

She wakes before everyone else,and a quick scan shows the cat still curled with Chloe on the bean bag, Gurlien still fast asleep on the extra bed, and Maison still breathing deeply against her.

It’s close to perfect.

So she just breathes out, blinking into the room.

Instead of the floral curtains, there are blank slats, sending long shadows on the white walls in the midafternoon sunshine. They’re still northern, they’re still in the United States, but a brief glimpse of blue peeks through the window.

“Delly?” Maison mumbles, still holding her close, voice raspy with sleep.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Delina whispers back, turning in his arms until she faces him.

He gazes at her from underneath his lashes, and they’re so close she can see the faintest of freckles across his nose.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches her in the shadows of the blinds.

The condo in Prescott had blinds like this, and for a few moments, she could swear they were back there.

“I didn’t think I would ever wake up like this again,” he whispers, voice so low.

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