Page 48 of In Death's Hands
“But we could learn what happened to us and why they’ve been after you your whole life. If you help us.”
“By playing bait.”
“I’ll keep you safe.”
“I know you will.” And I don’t know where that certitude comes from, but there is no stopping it.
Nathan didn’t say goodbye to anyone before he gently wrapped his arms around me and whooshed us back to his place.Fadedus back, I remind myself. The first few times it happened, it was a shock to the system, but this time I knew what was coming and I couldfeelmyself fade away. Ugh, I guess I understand the name now. It truly does feel like each cell and particle of my being dissolves into some sort of mist that is being swept away by an invisible wind, all the way to the desired location, only to be glued back together.
I wonder if all of me gets to the destination or if some small part is lost, wandering forever, trying to get back to its source. If I keep doing this, will there be anything left of me? Of my sanity?
It would certainly explain why I feel rather calm in the wake of everything. We’re back in London, and it’s still the middle of the night, although the moon is much lower than it was back there. I still don’t knowwherewe were, exactly, but I don’t really feel like asking.
As soon as we arrived, Nathan quietly excused himself and went to his bedroom to sleep or brood or whatever. I still see his panicked expression, his self-loathing, as he broke down in front of me. But mostly, I still feel his lips upon mine. The way his desire burned a path to my heart, meeting no resistance. I wonder if that’s a normal reaction, for me to feel so much towards this person I only officially met a few days ago. I know I should probably be focused on me right now, on the fact that a weird society is intent on killing me and we’ve decided to useme as bait to catch one of them, but all I see as I sit still on the world’s comfiest couch is the closed door leading to Death’s assistant’s bedroom. A big part of me I’m trying—and failing—to ignore is urging me to get up and go to him. Make sure he’s okay. Although I don’t even think that’s possible.
He seems so heavy with responsibilities, and the fact that I am just one more for him to fret over doesn’t sit well with me. Once again I wonder what his boss expects of him. He promised to take care of me, that much I trust. But is that all? Does Death really not want to claim my soul once and for all?
If I’m not meant to be dead, does it mean Death knew it all along and that’s why he saved me?
I wish I’d seen his face back then. He seemed so sad, so lonely. I remember how he tried to hide his scythe behind his back once he saw me, as if ashamed of it. I was still reeling over everything and the pain of my soul tearing itself free, and yet I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the being that would complete my transition.
I wish I could meet him again. At least I think I’d like that, but there’s also dread in there. What if he decides it’s more trouble than expected to keep me alive?
Sighing, I bring myself back to the present. I look away from the door, feeling ridiculous and a bit creepy. London is still asleep, although I sometimes see groups of people in sparkly clothes going to or from a party. I wonder if Joana is down there, enjoying herself. Lord knows she loves to party. I wonder if she’s already forgotten me. I still haven’t found the energy to look for my phone. Part of me knows it’s because I’m dreading seeing the lack of messages waiting for me.
I jump as I hear Nathan’s door open and close. When I look, he seems surprised to find me there and stands still for a second. Long enough for my eyes to grow curious and check out the low-hanging grey sweatpants and tight white shirt he’s changed into. As my gaze travels back up to his face, I find his eyes already on mine and blush at having been caught ogling him. His jaw ticks and his right hand goes up to scratch his nape, and I quickly close my eyes against the vision that is his bulging bicep.
“Can’t sleep?” he asks quietly as he moves to the kitchen.
“Haven’t really tried.”
He nods, and that’s that. He grabs a glass and fills it with water, but instead of drinking it, he hands it to me as he settles on the couch just a touch away.
The silence is oppressive this time, and I scramble to fill it. “So let’s capture one of those bastards.”
He starts, and I’d like to say I don’t know why, but even I am not certain where the eagerness is coming from. I could have asked if he needed to sleep. I could have asked when he last saw his boss. No, I asked the one thing I’m not sure I’m ready for.
When he keeps staring at me open-mouthed, I add, “We catch one, figure out what they want, how they stole your memories and how to get them back. We also figure out how to make them stop coming after me. Everybody wins and I go back to my life.” I ignore the pang in my chest as the words leave my mouth. Why does it feel like going back wouldn’t be right? That’s my goal.
He snorts. “Sounds easy.”
I cock my head and look him up and down. “Isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not. Don’t you think we’ve tried that already?”
“Aren’t you a god or something?” I smile, baiting him.
“Or something, sure,” he says, shaking his head. “Look, I know I volunteered you as bait but—”
“But nothing,” I interrupt.
“Liv.” He sighs. “It’s too dangerous.”
“You started us on this path,” I say accusingly, making him wince. “What was the point of meeting your crazy-ass leader if not to see it through?”
“I can handle Cel.”
“Look, you and I both need answers. I don’t know what sort of orders Death gave you but you’re clearly as desperate as I am.” That seems to shake him. “If we have help, I’m sure we can find a way to get one of them.”
