How to be Death (45 page)

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Authors: Amber Benson

BOOK: How to be Death
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“You could’ve made her your own consort, given her continued immortality through you,” Freezay offered, but Oggie had merely shaken his head.

 

“I already have a wife in Africa who shares my immortality,” he said sadly. “This was all I could offer Alameda. A chance to possess a book that might broker her continued existence.”

 

This had seemed to appease Freezay and they’d gone on to other topics, but I’d found myself fascinated by the admission.

 

For as long as I’d dealt with immortality—my whole life, I guess—it had been the bane of my existence. The attainment of it had caused people I loved to die and it had almost destroyed Death, Inc., from the inside out. And now, once again, it was responsible for the death of three (two of them relatively innocent) people. I understood why mortals wanted to live forever—the loss of self was a daunting thing—but was it worth the sacrifices that people like Alameda had to make in order to possess it?

 

I just didn’t know.

 

I did find it ironic that Alameda had died on the one day of the year when her immortality was not assured—when soon she would’ve had a whole lifetime of mortal days to choose from. Maybe, if she’d waited and played her cards right, she could’ve even met another immortal and begun the cycle all over again. Instead, she’d died on the floor of the Haunted Hearts Castle, a piece of broken glass from an elderly whiskey bottle slicing her carotid artery wide open.

 

It seemed a fitting death after what she and Oggie had done to Constance—but if I could’ve rewritten history, I’d have stopped all the death and destruction that happened that night. Even Coy’s untimely end seemed like a senseless act. Sure, the Aztec Goddess may have been a bloodthirsty avenger, but her murder, at the hands of a cowardly old man, was just pathetic.

 

*   *   *

as i sat
in the dining room, the one place in the house untouched by tragedy, contemplating the events of the past twenty-four hours, Freezay came in, looking exhausted.

“They’re ready to be taken away as soon as magic returns,” Freezay said, putting a hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

 

He was referring to Oggie and Donald Ali, the two men who had helped to perpetrate the tragic events of the past twenty-four hours. They weren’t the only ones I held responsible, but there was nothing to charge Uriah Drood with since he hadn’t physically committed a crime—no, he’d just set two murders into motion with his greed and selfishness.

 

The fact that he was going to walk free made me ill, but there was nothing I could do about it except keep an eye on him in the future. He was a wily little reptile, but I wouldn’t let him get away with anything else if I could help it.

 

“Hey, you got your hat back,” I said, noticing that Freezay was carrying his bowler hat in his hand as he walked around to the other side of the table and took the seat opposite me.

 

“Anjea’s owlet found it,” he said happily, tamping it down on top of his head so that it rode low over his blond brows. “I don’t know what kind of nonmagic magic the woman possesses, but it transcends the stuff we use.”

 

I didn’t think he was wrong on that front. There was something transcendent about Anjea, something unlike anything else I’d experienced in the Supernatural world.

 

“Anyway,” he said, patting the hat. “It’s nice to have it back.”

 

“So, the book?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. “How did you know it was a forgery?”

 

“How did I know it was a forgery?” Freezay repeated, his eyes lively. “Well, I technically
didn’t
because technically it’s
not
a forgery.”

 

I nearly choked.

 

“What?!”

 

Freezay nodded then shrugged helplessly.

 

“There was no forgery. It was just a little scheme that Jarvis, Daniel, and I cooked up to unsettle our murderers.”

 

I stared at him, at once angry that I wasn’t in on the secret and impressed by the ingeniousness of the ploy.

 

“So the metal box Horace had…”

 

“There was no metal box,” Frezay said. “Think back and you’ll realize you never saw anything in Horace’s hands.”

 

I did exactly what he suggested, surprised by the outcome. He was right. I had never seen Horace with anything in his hands.

 

“Damn,” I said, shaking my head. “There really was no metal box.”

 

“Well, there was a metal box,” Freezay said, correcting me. “One with a book and a knife in it—the one used to torture and kill Constance, as a matter of fact—but it was back in Oggie’s bedroom, hidden under the mattress. Daniel and Erlik found it a few minutes ago when they were going through Oggie’s things.”

 

“So it was only a bluff,” I marveled, amazed that Alameda had fallen for it.

 

“A very powerful bluff,” Freezay added. “And now the book is in Jarvis’s possession and will be returned to Death, Inc., as soon as it’s physically possible. Because it was in no person’s hands at the stroke of midnight, it can be returned to you, Death, without a hitch. Amazing how that magic stuff works, huh?”

 

“Wow,” I breathed, unaware that the success of Freezay’s investigation had hinged solely upon a complete and utter lie.

 

Before he could get away, I had something I wanted to discuss with Freezay, but I was uncertain of how to broach the subject. I debated letting it drop, but then I decided just to be plainspoken about it.

 

“What will you do now?” I asked.

 

Freezay shrugged, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

 

“Don’t know really. I guess I’ll go back to my enforced retirement … lots of fishing and eating food that’s terrible for me as I enjoy the beauty of the Central Coast.”

 

“You know, you could always come work for me,” I blurted out, the idea I’d been mulling around in my head for the past few hours finally injected into reality. “I mean we could use a man like you. It’s really just Jarvis, Runt, and my sister, Clio, helping me run the show.”

 

Freezay leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

 

“It’s an enticing offer, that’s for sure,” he said, scooting his chair back so he could stand up. “But one I’d have to think on.”

 

I watched him walk to the doorway, his gait steady and sure. I didn’t know what he’d done to get himself kicked out of the Psychical Bureau of Investigations, but frankly, I didn’t care. I liked Edgar Freezay exactly as he was … and I was gonna find a way to get him on my team whether he liked it or not.

 

“I’ll let you know. And soon,” Freezay said, stopping in the doorway for a moment—then he disappeared into the corridor, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

 

I sat back in my chair, sighing, as I waited for Jarvis and Runt to return. They’d gone to make the arrangements for the four bodies to be wormholed back to Sea Verge, where they would then be cremated and their ashes spread across the Rhode Island Sound.

 

“Knock, knock.”

 

I looked up to find Daniel standing in the doorway, his lean body looking even more scrumptious than usual.

 

“Hey,” I said, standing up and walking over to him.

 

“You look tired. Nice PJs, though.”

 

I laughed and then I was in his arms, his lips against mine, our tongues fumbling in the hot wetness of each other’s mouths.

 

God, I’d missed
him.

 

When we’d had our fill, we broke apart, but kept our hands entwined together, unable to bear even a second of separation.

 

“I missed you,” I said, biting my lip, my throat constricting—and before I even realized it, I was crying.

 

He reached out, brushing away my tears with his fingers.

 

“I missed the crud out of you, you idiot,” he said, pulling me into his arms and squeezing me tightly against him.

 

“Really?” I murmured hopefully.

 

“We shouldn’t be apart,” he continued, stroking my unruly hair. “I don’t care anymore. I just need you in my life. I love you, Cal.”

 

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

 

“Did you really not know it was me?” he asked suddenly.

 

“Huh?” I said.

 

“Before the Masquerade Ball, when I helped you up after
you’d fallen. You didn’t seem to know it was me, but then I thought maybe you did when you kissed me …” He trailed off.

 

So, Daniel was my mysterious stranger,
I thought to myself. 
And that meant the lipstick I’d seen on his neck … was mine.

 

“It was a beautiful mask,” I said, not answering his question. He grinned at me, not sure if I was teasing him.

 

“You’re a strange girl, Calliope Reaper-Jones,” he whispered as he moved in to kiss me again. But just as our lips met, I heard a
creak
out in the hallway, and we pulled apart to find Caoimhe standing in the doorway, uncertainty rife in her eyes.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

 

She started to back away, but I broke apart from Daniel and walked over to the doorway, stopping her before she could disappear.

 

“Wait,” I said. Then I glanced at Daniel. “Can I have a couple of minutes?”

 

He nodded, but I could tell that now that he had me again, he didn’t ever want to let me go.

 

“Why don’t I pack and then meet you in your room?” Daniel said, kindly giving me the freedom to do what I needed. “We can catch a wormhole back to Sea Verge together from there.”

 

“That would make me very happy,” I said, grinning back at him—and suddenly I didn’t want to let him go either.

 

“I love you,” I mouthed to him as he left. He smiled, the sides of his eyes crinkling, and then he was gone, leaving Caoimhe and me to do our business in private.

 

“I really didn’t mean to interrupt,” Caoimhe said, looking sheepish.

 

I didn’t want her to feel any worse than she already did.

 

“It’s fine. He was just going anyway.”

 

She seemed to believe me, but she was still nervous as she crossed the threshold and walked toward me.

 

“You said earlier that there was something you needed to talk to me about?” I asked, getting the ball rolling.

 

Caoimhe hesitated, licking her lips as she grasped the edge of one of the dining room chairs, holding on to it so tightly her fingers turned white.

 

“Yes, there is something I need to discuss with you—” She
stopped, raising a trembling hand to her mouth. Whatever she had to say to me was proving very difficult for her to get out.

 

“Sorry,” she said, composing herself. “I told myself I wouldn’t get upset and here I am, getting upset.”

 

I wanted to touch her hand, assure her there was nothing she could say that was worth this suffering, but I was afraid to spook her, so I let it ride.

 

“All right,” she began again. “This is a very hard thing for me to say, but I made a mistake a long time ago and I’m hoping that you’ll give me the chance to make it up to you. You have to understand my situation, how much I love Morrigan and never wanted to hurt her … and your father was so persuasive—”

 

“Okay, stop,” I interrupted, totally confused. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

 

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

 

“Calliope … I’m your mother.”

 

The shock was absolute. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t breath … all I could do was stare at the woman before me, trying to make sense of the strange sentence she’d just uttered.

 

“It happened during a Masquerade Ball more than twenty years ago,” she said. “I had no idea who the masked man I’d been with was and I didn’t care. I wanted a baby so badly I couldn’t think straight—and the ball was my only opportunity to make it happen. I knew Morrigan would forgive me once it was all over and I explained my rationale, but I didn’t dare tell her beforehand for fear that she’d stop me from doing it.”

 

I started shaking, my whole body vibrating on some unknown frequency.

 

“When you were conceived, it was the greatest blessing that had ever been bestowed upon me,” she continued, starting to cry. “But Morrigan didn’t take it as well as I had hoped. How she discovered your father was my partner that night, I’ll never know, but she went to him and told him that I was pregnant.”

 

I had to sit down, my legs so weak they could barely hold me. I collapsed into a chair, my throat dry as a bone as I listened to Caoimhe’s story.

 

“Your father wouldn’t take no for an answer,” she went on. “He and Morrigan persuaded me that giving you to him and his wife would be the best thing for you. You were Death’s
Daughter and you would never be safe without his protection. I didn’t know what to do … so I went to see the great seer, Anjea, telling myself I would do whatever she said was best for you.”

 

“Anjea?” I heard myself saying.

 

“She took one look at me …” Caoimhe laughed—but there was no mirth in it. “She took one look at me and said that one day you would be Death.”

 

Caoimhe stopped again, her eyes wet.

 

“She said I must protect you at all costs. That you would be the greatest balance the world had ever known.”

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