Black Bird of the Gallows(92)

No wonder he won’t look at me. Wait…why won’t he look at me? Why is he still all the way on the other side of the room? It isn’t because of how I look. Or smell.

The answer slams into me. Burns worse than my hundred bee stings. This is good-bye. He’s leaving. Finally.

I close my eyes and ignore the burn behind my lids. At least he kept his word. This is just one more thing I’ll have to survive.

“How long do you have?” I manage to keep my voice even.

His head comes up. “How long for what?”

“Before you leave, of course.”

He rolls his shoulders in a tense shrug. “I don’t know.”

So we’re playing the vague game. Fan-freaking-tastic. After all we went through, we’re back to this.

“Fine,” I say. “You just let me know, then.” Somehow, I managed to infuse ample snottiness in my words. Even as my stomach slowly knots. Even as I bite my lip to keep it from quivering.

“I don’t know when I’m leaving,” he says hesitantly, “because I don’t know if I’m leaving. That part is up to you.”

As if my head wasn’t pounding enough. “What does that mean? I thought you were here to say good-bye.”

He comes forward and stands next to the bed. Finally, his eyes turn to mine. I tilt my head, confused by what I see. The lights are low, but I swear it looks like…

He blinks. Long, dark lashes sweep over crystal-blue eyes.

Not black. Not red. Not any other shade.

I rise up to my knees and lean close. Those blue eyes blink slowly, gaze at me with an inscrutable expression.

“Reece, your eyes are blue.” My voice is a reverent whisper. “What does this mean?”

He holds up his hand. The three scars running the length of his palm are gone. His lips turn up in a crooked, uncertain smile. “It means you—what you did—ended it for me. The crow is gone. You released it. I have a life—one life, one death, like everyone else. No more curses. No more changing into a—” He cuts off with a shaky indrawn breath.

“You mean you’re not a harbinger of death anymore?” I ask. “You’re just…you?”

His mouth moves into a wavering smile. “Yes. I’m just me.” His voice is low and rough and aching with deep emotion. His gaze shifts to my sore hand. “I don’t have the words. They just don’t exist—thank you, Angie. You…freed me. Rafette, too. And everyone who had been stung by Rafette, as you know.” He lowers his head. “I owe you everything.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” I say roughly. “You were going to become a Beekeeper to save me, remember?” My heart pounds. I can’t stop staring at his eyes. So blue. If it weren’t for them, I’d wonder if this was a latent bee sting-induced hallucination. “You don’t look happy.”

He rubs his palms on his jeans and lets out a breath. “I am, it’s just… My family has left. They’re all excited that there is a way out of this curse, even though what happened with us can’t be replicated. But it’s given them hope.”

Hope. Such a powerful emotion. I glance over at my dresser, to the small glass bowl sitting there. Inside are Hank’s gifts, untouched, and the amethyst Reece found in the mine. “How is Hank?” I ask.

Reece sighs. He reaches into his pocket with slow movements and comes out with a long white wing feather. He takes my hand and reverently places it in my palm. “After it was confirmed that you would recover, he requested the mortouri and it was granted.” He looks away, brow creased. “I wasn’t present for it. I didn’t…”

“It’s okay.” My throat tightens. I close my fingers around the stiff white feather. “He suffered enough. Maybe his curse will die with him, too.”

“I hope so.” Reece’s gaze flickers back up to mine, then away.

“Thank you for this.” I hold the feather to my chest. “I’ll never forget him.”

“Nor will I. He tried to save himself and your mother, but wound up damning them both. But with us…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what happened after you grabbed Rafette’s queen bee. I was incapacitated for a while, as the curse worked its way out of my body. I couldn’t see what happened. My family thinks it was our willingness to lose ourselves, to save each other, that cracked the curse. We may never know for sure what did it. I still can’t believe you survived the queen’s venom, too.”

Yes, there are things we’ll never know about that day. Maybe my mom’s final gift to me was whatever magic allowed her to survive so long with Rafette’s venom. In the end, I’d like to believe my mom saved me.

I think back to my fleeting memories, just before I passed out in that playground. Of Rafette’s shockingly beautiful face. Of the smell of decay, the sound of snapping straw. Of the quiet voice in my head saying, Well done, child. I can’t be sure any of it was real and not the byproduct of pain, venom, and fear. Maybe I’ll tell Reece about them sometime, but I may never have the chance to.

“So what are your…plans?” I ask, unsure where this is going. If this is not necessarily good-bye, what is it?

“My family has put me in charge of their estate, since I’m, well, all human now. For the first time in more years than I can remember, I don’t know what happens next. I’m…scared.”