Page 21 of In Death's Hands
Nathan turns fully to me, the weight of his full attention creating a buzzing feeling under my skin. “Now we figure outwhat happened when Death saved you. Why the world seems to want you dead.”
“What do you mean, wants me dead?”
His eyebrows rise comically on his perfect face. “Liv, this isn’t just poor luck. Something, someone, is actively trying to kill you.”
“She was already supposed to be dead,” says Turan, throwing an apologetic wince my way, and I have the sudden urge to laugh. “Maybe this is just the Fates trying to fix the Tapestry.”
“What Fates? We haven’t seen—”
“Yes,whatFates?” I ask, interrupting Nathan. “You guys talk about them as people. And what’s this Tapestry?” Even I could hear the capital they put on the word. Reverence entered their tone, and perhaps fear as well.
They both look at me, doubts reflecting in their gazes. “Dear me, this is all kinds of wrong.” Turan closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose.
“Turan…” sighs Nathan.
“No! No, we’ve managed to avoid this for a long, long time, Nathan. And now look at us! First you—She’s alive! Now the Novensiles are after her? She knows more than any others of her kind ever did. It’s not right.”
I want to be hurt by her words, I want to rage at her excluding me, but really, I’m used to it. I never seem to fit in. First because of my grief and lack of family, then because I was deemed nuts for my beliefs, and finally, because once I aged out of the system, I was utterly on my own while other people my age were already settled in their groups of friends and packed schedules. The Muddied Waters was the first place where I didn’t feel like I was floating in an ocean of silence. The onlyplace. I have colleagues I consider to be friends there. Granted, they don’t know my story and only see me as a co-worker, but I’d do anything for Isaiah and Joana. For the sense of normalcy they bring into my life. Which is why I say, “I have to go to work.” Who cares if my billions of questions are still unanswered? As I said, I’m used to it. Right now, I’d rather go back to the one place that hasn’t failed me yet.
“What?” Nathan jolts.
“I have a shift soon and I can’t be late.” I seem to have wasted most of the morning sleeping, but my phone tells me it’s almost time for the lunch rush and I will not let Isaiah face the decaffeinated Londoners alone.
“Liv, let’s not start this nonsense again.”
That’s it. I’ve had enough. “What nonsense? My life? You think this is funny? You swoop in and everything is in shambles! And you won’t even answer basic questions!”
“It’s complicated,” interjects Turan.
“You don’t think I know that?” I snap at her. “I can’t go back to my place! I’ve almost died three times in almost as many days. So,excuse mefor caring about the one tiny thing that is still normal in my life while you people talk in riddles like I don’t exist!”
I move towards the bedroom to gather my things, but Nathan slides in front me, hands up in a placating gesture. “Please stay. We will answer your questions.” He throws a dark look behind me at Turan’s groan and tells her, “She is in the middle of this mess; she deserves our help and consideration.”
“And who put her in the middle of this, huh?”
He ignores her, instead focusing back on me to say with a gentleness that soothes my burning temper, “We will tell you what we can, what we know. Please stay.”
I don’t give up on work but see this as an opportunity to get some answers. Although I don’t even know what to ask first. So many questions swirl in my mind, like a tidal wave threatening to take me under and never let me breathe again. I close my eyes and let my mouth form the words “Should I be dead?” Surprise jolts through me and my shoulders curl up to my ears. I keep my eyes closed, refusing to see pity in his eyes. I wanted to ask about the shadows, but I guess my mind has more pressing issues. I feel pathetic. Weak. I hate everything that’s ever happened to me, maybe hate myself a little bit too for the vulnerability I’ve let slip out.
Silence is my only answer, prying my lids open with its oppressive hands. But I don’t see the dreaded pity on Nathan’s face. Instead, compassion greets me as well as truth. “I don’t know.”
I almost wish he’d lie to me. But at this truth my muscles relax and my lungs gulp down fresh air.
His mouth is downcast, his eyebrows drawn up together, and his jaw is so tight I’m afraid it’s going to snap. He’s staring at me too, and I wonder what he sees. I am stuck in his dark eyes, and the sudden gasp that turns into a badly disguised cough is what finally sets me free. We both turn towards a red-cheeked Turan. “Why don’t you sit down, dear?” She gestures to the couch. “It looks like we’ll be here a while, and I’m tired.”
Nathan shakes his head as I make my way back down onto the comfortable furniture. “Where have you been all night to be this tired already?”
A devious grin settles on the beautiful woman’s face. “Oh, a lady never tells.”
Despite everything, I have the urge to laugh. But Turan turns my way and she’s all business again. “So, let’s gain some time, shall we? You’re human,weare… not.” She points onefinger up in a mighty checklist. “We don’t know why you seem to be in so many accidents, and from what my brother has told me, you’ve been a Death magnet your whole life.” An odd expression crosses her face, but it disappears as she brings up a second finger. “Yet you seem to be quite alive still, so, no, you cannot go back home before we figure out why the Novensiles are after you.”
I cut her off as she’s about to bring yet another finger up. “What do you mean you’re not human?”
She frowns at my interruption. “You accept that he’s Death’s assistant, yet the non-human part gives you pause?”
“I haven’t accepted shit. I just know what I saw years ago.”
“Whatdidyou see, exactly?” she demands.
