Page 97 of The Death Dealer

“You are!”

“We’ll see.” Holding up one with a red cap, she said, “This one is if you decide to go through with your stupid plan to die. It’ll take away your pain and speed up the process. Remember, red, you’re dead. Even your pea brain can retain that much.”

Fintan laughed.

Trevor shot him the bird before facing Soleil again. “Dalli?—”

“Shut up. I have thirty seconds left.” Walking to the bench by the entrance, she bent and stuffed them underneath the seat. “Use the excuse that you need to tie your shoe or something when they come for you. Choose the vial that corresponds to your decision.Personally,I'm voting for you to get your head out of your ass and choose the green, but I won't hold out much hope.”

Draven chuckled. “I’ll help you forget him,cher. You and I?—”

Trevor exploded with anger. “I swear to the Goddess, I will come back from the Otherworld and fuck you up, Draven Masters! See if I don’t.”

Soleil stepped up to Draven and kissed his cheek. “I’ll need about a week to get over him.”

His fatherchortledwhen she flipped Trevor the bird and headed for the door.

“Get back here, woman!” he shouted.

She kept walking.

“Dalli!”

The others filed out after her, and he released a guttural yell.

“Choose the green, son. She’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of woman. You’ll never find her like again.”

CHAPTER34

Footsteps on the gravel path alerted Soleil to her visitor. Her gut clenched. Taking an extraordinarily long time, she debated teleporting to her room and hiding out for the foreseeable future. She didn’t want to hear about Trevor’s death at the hands of the Authority. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked to dispel them.

After a few cleansing breaths, she firmed her resolve.Really,she should get it over with. The sooner she faced the truth, the sooner she could grieve. She almost scoffed at her ridiculous thoughts. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been suffering since the trial. Since Trevor so stupidly agreed to take death over the rehabilitation program.

Placing her spade on the workbench, she eased her work gloves from her hands and turned to greet her visitor.

She blinked again. And again.

“No hug for your returning lover, Dalli?”

Dressed in formal Regency garb, Trevor looked like he was attending a ball. In hiswidespreadarms, he held a garment bag tied up with a massive pink bow that should have looked absurd but was charming.

“Am I dreaming?” she asked past the lump in her throat.

He grinned. “No.”

“Did you escape?”

“No.”

“Then how are you here?”

“They released me.” Walking to her favorite reading spot, he draped his present over the back of the bench and straightened to face her. “But I thought you should know, I picked the green vial.”

Her heart hiccuped, and she pressed her fist against her chest. “You did?”

“Yeah. For you. For us. For our fighting chance.”

“Why, when you hadn’t before?”

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