Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
“He’s gone,” Hilly said, closing the bedroom door. She looked startled to find them all clustered in the hallway, waiting for her rather than heading for the dining hall or library. “For good and for real this time.”
Amara pushed away from the wall she’d been slumped against. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“As am I, darling. But he explained. And I can’t get angry with you for acceding to his wishes. Or him for leaving. I just.” She stopped and flapped her hands, then let them drop and let out a small, bewildered laugh. “I don’t quite know what to do with myself now. Or tomorrow. Or next year.”
“You won’t be alone, Mom. I’m staying. I’ll take the train home tomorrow morning to pack up my things and come straight back.”
“No,” Gray said. His grip tightened; he’d been holding Amara’s hand while they waited for Hilly. “I’ll go back. I’ll pack up your craphole and bring your stuff back here. Except for those bacteria traps you think are slippers. Those I’ll be setting on fire.”
“Don’t you touch my Homer slippers! Or any of it. You’re free, Gray.”
He frowned. “I was always free.”
“No, I mean free of—you’re not going to die this year.
You’re going to have a lovely long life in southern Minnesota.
” Amara smiled, which was the easy part.
Keeping the smile, that was where it got tricky.
Not letting it look like a death’s-head grin?
Also tricky. “And I’ll stay here. And it’ll all be fine. ”
He dropped her hand like it was made of mud. “First, what the hell? Second, there’s nothing lovely about life without you.”
“Awwww.”
“Stop it, Penny!” Amara yelped.
“Third, I’m moving in here with you guys if Hilly lets me. Which reminds me, Hilly, is it okay if I move in?”
“Of course, darling, but it’s Amara’s property now. And so her decision.”
“Well, you can’t,” Amara declared. I forgot about that. I’m officially a zillionaire. No more trust fund; I control it all. Might as well take the perks with the responsibilities. “I forbid it. I banish you to Minneapolis and sentence you to live happily ever after.”
Gray had no immediate reply, which was alarming beyond belief. Worse, he wore his I’m-thinking-super-hard-and-just-figured-out-something-huge expression. “Your dad said it was a trade. Did you bargain away my death?”
“Really?” Amara said, but not to Gray. “You guys are just going to stand there and listen to this obviously private conversation?”
“It’s interesting,” Penny said.
“A better question is, why are you having this private conversation in a cramped hallway outside your father’s death room?” Arawn pointed out, even as he snapped his fingers and walked away, the hellhoundlets trotting behind him.
“Point,” Amara admitted, even as Gray took her hand and led her away, away, all the way to the tower.
He slammed the door and leaned against it. “Tell. Me. Everything.”
“Wow. You didn’t say a word the whole time you were hauling me up here. That raises concerns.”
“Start with, ‘I figured out Skye was the bad guy’ and finish with ‘and then I lost my damned mind and tried to make Graham Gray go back to Minnesota because I’m a jerk with the heart of a jerk.’”
“Oh, the details.” She flapped a hand.
“Amara. I’m supposed to die soon. Or I was.”
“How could you even know that?” she cried. Whoever told, they might get what Skye got.
No. Don’t joke about that. Not even to yourself.
“Because death gods all have at least one thing in common,” Gray said wryly. “Not a single one of you is as subtle as you think you are. Everyone who met me was sad and just had to comment.”
Amara glared at the floor.
He’s right. We’re idiots.
When Gray reached out and gently tipped up her chin, she glared at him. “Your parents,” she finally muttered. “Your parents killed you.”
“Right. Heart attack?” Gray’s lack of surprise was heartbreaking. “Because my doctor told me I’ve got the BP of a Russian CEO in debt to Putin. And a raging vitamin A deficiency.”
“Ooooh, political. Aneurysm. A few months from now.”
There was a pause while Gray let that sink in and Amara wished she was anywhere but here, having any conversation but this one.
“I’m so sorry. Your folks—they should pay. And they will.”
“That’s a whole different conversation, Amara. So a tiny chunk of my brain was going to blow like a cheap bike tire, but not anymore. Because it’s like your dad said: a trade. Your dad’s dead because I’m going to live.”
“Yes.”
“But isn’t that impossible?”
“I always thought so. Apparently when Death is dying and a new avatar is on deck, they receive a ‘get out of death free’ card.” She held up her hands. “I know. It’s an absurd deus ex machina.”
Worse: She was pretty sure her father could have survived Skye’s sinister machinations. But he chose to die. And not just because he was tired.
“And your dad told you this when he woke up . . . when?”
“This morning. I was doing what I did all the time as a kid—whining about my problems for twenty minutes. Startled the hell out of me when he talked back. I told him my suspicions, he wouldn’t let me tell anyone he was awake, and you know the rest.”
Gray’s eyes filled, and he looked away as the tears spilled. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“Yes, well.” She reached out, turned his head until he was facing her again. “Sometimes you’re an idiot.”
“And that your dad did that for you.”
“He was an idiot, too. In all the best ways.”
“And you thought I’d . . . what? Scuttle back to Minneapolis and live an Amara-less life?”
“You didn’t choose this.” Her gesture encompassed the room, the tower, the compound, the state of North Dakota.
“Any of it. I shouldn’t have let you come in the first place, never mind sucking you into Reaps and all that that entailed.
But that doesn’t matter, because it’s like I said. You’re free now.”
“I think you forgot something.”
Hope not. “Doubtful.”
“The people being Reaped could see me. Remember? It freaked you out a little. I talked to your mom about it. I think the reason they treated me like Death was because I was supposed to be there. With you. Death’s consort or whatever.”
“That’s one explanation.” One she hadn’t dared contemplate.
“Bullshit. It’s the only explanation. Otherwise you would have mentioned the other possibilities ad nauseum. Amara. I love you and I’m in love with you. Sending me away? That’s just another death sentence. Don’t roll your eyes. Something can be hokey and true.”
She squashed the wild joy that bloomed in her chest and was spreading to her extremities. Like a shot of the best rum in the world, times a thousand. “I can’t expect you to stay with me.”
“I know. But I can expect me to stay. Jesus, Amara, after everything I’ve seen? You really think I could just shrug and say ‘smell you later’ and hop on your dad’s private train—well, your private train now—”
“One car. It’s just the one car.”
“—and get out of town? Even if I didn’t want to be Death’s consort, this—all this—the tower, the cave, the people—it’s incredible! And fascinating! And there’s so much more to know.”
“And terrible. And depressing. And shocking. And so much more to know.”
“And that’s life, Amara.” He took her by the shoulders and shook her a little even as he smiled.
“You’re talking to someone who never went out for sports because I was almost always in a cast. And someone who got to eat unlimited smoked turkey and take a bridge to your gorgeous library.
No one’s guaranteed a good time all the time. ”
She stared at him. “You really want to stay? With me?”
“Forever,” he promised. “Or as good as.”
“You’re crazy,” she marveled.
“I’m gonna avoid the obvious ‘crazy for you, baby!’ and just agree.”
She threw her arms around him so suddenly, they both nearly toppled to the floor. “Crazy-crazy-crazy. My God. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
“Everything you just said? Same.”
“Ugh. Stop that.”
He kissed her, hard, and then pulled back. “I guess you’d better tell my mom about the new parameters. She’s gotta stay two states away, right?”
Amara stared.
“Oh, c’mon. You had to know I’d figure it out.”
Amara kept staring.
“All right, now I’m trying to decide if I’m charmed by your astonishment or pissed at your low opinion of my IQ. Which is huge, by the way. The internet told me so after a rigorous quiz.”
“Are . . . are you mad?”
“No. It was another reason to love you. And you know I’m not talking about the money.
But you should stop pissing away two grand a month.
You’ve got your own fiefdom and I’m your co-fiefer.
You don’t have to worry about Mom hurting me again.
I wouldn’t allow it even if I wasn’t gonna be Death’s sweetie.
Also, thanks for not beating her to death. ”
“It was a struggle,” Amara admitted. “I broke all her eggs and called her names and threw money at her and she barfed right after I left.”
Gray snorted. “There’s a scene to picture. Look, it’s up to you, but I think you should stop. There’s just no need for it. And now to clumsily change the subject by asking if me moving in with you means I’m the new Hilly.”
She paused and considered. “I guess it does. Maybe not immediately.”
“Damn, that’s a lot of responsibility. I’d better learn how to make lefse pretty quick.”
“No rush.” She kissed him back. “You’ve got years and years to learn.”