Page 94 of The Girl Who Inherits the Dead

Figured it out, and Delina’s still grasping at straws.

“Don’t hurt anybody right now,” Delina commands, and he nods, eager. “Unless my life is in direct danger, I guess.”

That, at least, gets some relief from him, like she’s saved him from a hell she doesn’t quite understand.

There are tears in his eyes, actual tears.

She takes a tentative step closer, and he inhales, sharp, still stuck in one place.

“This made you a demon?” she asks, dipping her voice low, and the other two are far enough away that they have no hope of hearing. “All the demon powers and everything?”

“I think so,” he says, small.

“Is me commanding you making you do things?” Delina asks, and he nods again. “Then I guess this is a success. This test.”

He’s still scared, more frightened than when he actually died, and her heart hurts at it.

“Will you let me untie you?” Delina asks, and still, he hesitates. “It’ll stop the danger, it’ll stop all these side effects.”

His lips part.

“You won’t hurt me,” she declares, then, slowly, reaches out her hand to him.

Of course she’s terrified, too, but the chill of the air doesn’t hurt her skin anymore, all her muscles are relaxed, more than they have been in years.

He stares down at her, his eyes inhuman, and she can see the pulse in his throat. “You’re beautiful,” he says, almost marveling, but his voice breaks. “You’re shining so bright.”

“Thanks,” Delina replies, before reaching towards his wrist again. “Will you let me do this?”

Slowly, he nods, holding out his arm.

It’s a quick yank on the knot, the magic slithering away and disappearing into the ground, and he slumps forward, crashing into her.

“Oh hey, I got you, I got you,” Delina says, getting her feet back underneath her, and his arms wrap around her, gripping her into a tight hug. “Woah, you’re okay, you’re fine.”

And his body is back to normal, none of the off sensation, none of the creeping inhumanity.

Just his ragged breathing and his face pressed against her shoulder.

28

It might be a few moments, it might be an hour, but Delina can feel that Maison’s feet have gone cold by the time she hears Gurlien and Chloe return behind them.

“So you got him back, that’s good,” Gurlien says, and a tremor runs through Maison’s shoulders at that, still pressed up against Delina. “Can you explain what happened?”

Maison slowly withdraws from where he’s clutching her, and his cheeks are wet.

“Gurlien, give it a moment,” Delina says, and Maison scrunches his face, obviously pulling himself together. “That was disorienting.”

“I’m not surprised,” Chloe says, and that at least gets Maison to shake a bit loose. “You disappeared, that’s disorienting for anyone.”

He takes a deep breath, shaking out his hands, before settling his confident mask over his face.

Delina hates it.

“So the death in the hands of the necromancer is what gets you to go full demon,” Gurlien lists out. “That doesn’t make anysense, but it does explain why they were never able to get you to do it before.” He looks over at Delina, critical. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she repeats, and she is. Nothing feels awful, nothing hurts.

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