Black Bird of the Gallows(77)

Lacey gives him an odd look. “Deno, what…?”

“It’s okay,” I say to her. “No, she never beat me, but her behavior was abusive. You can’t use drugs like she did and give a kid a healthy life. You can’t—” I drag in a knotted breath and close my eyes. Let my heart rate ease back to normal. “Look, if they sting me, I’ll make sure I’m not a danger to anyone. I’ll check myself into an institution or something.” I don’t want to think about the “or something.”

“They’re not going to sting you,” Reece says.

“You keep saying that,” I say. “How do you know?”

He studies me with tired eyes. Eyes that have seen so many terrible things. “Because the last time Rafette stung a harbinger’s loved one, it did not achieve the desired result.”

Loved one. My heart bumps around under my ribs, painful and thrilling and, as Lacey so aptly put it, tragic. “What do you mean?”

Reece’s voice goes gentle. “Destroying your mother’s mind did not free the Beekeeper of his curse. Hank didn’t take on Rafette’s curse.” He rolls a shoulder, and the joint pops in place. He lets out a relieved sigh. “Rafette may be sociopathic, but he learned from his mistakes.”

I swallow through a suddenly parched throat. “So what are they going to do to me instead?”

“Nothing. They’re not going to get near you.”

“But if they—”

“I don’t know what they’d do, okay?” he says. “I’m not a sociopath.”

“Are you sure?” Deno tosses out with another smirk. “You feed off the dead.”

Reece turns to Deno, eyes hard and black. He looks ferocious, even with a rainbow throw blanket knotted around his waist. Deno shrinks back.

“I’m a lot of things, Daniel,” Reece enunciates each word through his teeth. “Feeding on death energy is not a choice for me any more than eating food is for you. I don’t know what that makes me, but I’m not a sadist. I don’t hurt people.” He turns toward the stairs. “Don’t compare me to a Beekeeper again.”

Reece lopes up the stairs. The instant he’s out of sight, I turn to Deno. “What was that about?”

Deno rests his head in his tense fingertips. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I guess I’m overtired.”

“Fine, be overtired,” I say. “But don’t be an ass, too.”

“That wasn’t nice, Deen.” Lacey shakes her head. “Come on. Let’s pack up some food and water. If Beekeepers are coming, we need to move.”

Deno gets to his feet and follows after her like a scolded child.

I look at the stairs and sigh. Reece. It’s important we don’t drag Deno and Lacey into this game of manhunt. We can’t “stick together,” as Deno said. I don’t understand why Reece agreed with that statement.

I find Reece in the upstairs bathroom, scrubbing water over his face. He looks up. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I lean a hip against the doorframe. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He braces his hands on either side of the sink. Droplets drip from his wet hair into the water with rhythmic plops.

“I don’t remember Deno being so provoking,” he says.

“Me, either. He says he’s tired.”

“Yeah.” Reece lets the water drain and pulls a towel off the rack. He dries his face, then loops the towel around his neck.

I raise a brow. “That’s my towel, you know.”

Of course he knows. It’s my bathroom. And if he wasn’t sure, the dozens of skin and hair products crowding the sink would give him a clue. Although, in fairness, my dad’s collection rivals mine.

A smile curves Reece’s lips. He crowds me against the doorframe. “I know. It smells like you.”

My heart trips over itself, picks up the pace. “Ew. Before or after a shower?”

“After, of course.” His hands encircle my waist. Heat emanates from him, still abnormal for a person, but it’s not the intense burn of earlier.

“I, uh… Hmm.” My thoughts unravel. What did I come up here to talk to him about? It was important. Really…important.

Oh, right. I let out a frustrated groan. “Reece, Lacey and Deno need to get out of Cadence with some human rescuers, and you need to take off. Go back to your group and disappear.” My throat threatens to shut down around the words. He can’t know how hard they are to say. “If they think we broke up and you don’t care about me, they’ll give up pursuing you.”

“It’s too late to make them think I don’t care about you.” His hands slide around my waist, trace up the bumps of my spine. “I will always care about you.”

I suck in a sharp breath, inhaling the scent of woods and earth and my cucumber-melon cleanser he must have washed his face with. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” His voice is husky. “I fell in love with you when we were six. No matter what happens, that’s the truth. You should know it.”

My heart swells and knots, pushes so hard against my ribs I fear they’ll snap. “I can’t take it, Reece.” The words rip out in a rasp. “When this is all over, you’ll be gone. Forever. And I have to go on. Finish high school. Go to college. Hopefully, make a life.”