Dead of Winter (The Arcana Chronicles #3)(31)
“Death was goan to let you go?”
“Not exactly.” Never. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”
“It does matter. How did you get away?”
“Matthew helped me.” True, but evasive.
“But you didn’t take down the Reaper?” Again, I felt Jack’s disappointment in me. “Even after what he did to us? Even after he left me and coo-y?n, Finn and Selena to die?” He pointed to my hands, to the icons. “You killed two. Why not Death?”
“I learned more about the history of the games, about why he hated me. I wasn’t exactly Miss Congeniality in the past. I betrayed him in ways you can’t imagine.”
Jack swiped his hand over his bruised face. “Try me.”
“It’s complicated. Earlier I didn’t press for answers from you, and now I want to drop this subject.”
He looked like he was just getting started. “Joules told me about the offer he made you. You had a chance to get me freed days ago, but you didn’t take it!” “There’s a lot about Death that you don’t know. That I didn’t.”
“He’s goan to be coming for you.”
I wasn’t convinced. “I have no idea what to expect.”
“Did you know you were the only one he could touch?”
I shook my head. “Not before I was taken.”
“I didn’t figure much could shock me anymore. Then I found out the bastard wanted you for himself. Not to kill—but to keep. That true?”
“It was.” Once.
“Coo-y?n told me all about him. A rich noble knight. Speaks eight languages or some shit. Gave you a warm room in a castle and protection from this entire f*cking world.” I’d ordered Matthew to tell Jack I was safe; he might have spread it on a little heavy. “Maybe you were stupid to leave.”
Stupid? “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming at me like this! You were the one who lied to me.” I grappled with my temper, reminding myself of all he’d been through.
“Death told you those things just to drive a wedge between us.”
“If you’d been honest with me, the truth wouldn’t have been such a blow.”
“How the hell was I supposed to tell you about your mother?” He finished his flask. “A thousand times I imagined your reaction. There was nothing I could say that didn’t equal me losing you.”
“For so long, I was trapped at Death’s, with no friends or family to turn to. Then I learned that you’d done this thing. That you’d lied about it. Easily.” My words appeared to hurt him worse than his recent torture. “Do you remember when we promised each other there’d be no more secrets between us? I do. I remember your eyes darted.” Like it was yesterday . . .
“Are you lying to me? Jack, nothing is more important than trust right now. Considering this game, this whole world, we have to be able to depend on each other.”
“I’m not lying. You can trust me alone, Evie. I got no secrets, peek?n. Except for how bad I want you.”
“I was such an idiot to believe you,” I said. “I bought everything you told me, against my better judgment. You heaped so much shit on me for keeping things from you—when you hid plenty from me!”
He shoved his fingers through his hair. “I sensed things were off with you. I sensed you were in danger. I needed to know more, because I wanted to protect you. But my secrets would do nothing but tear us apart.”
“Then try me now. Tell me what happened that night with my mother.”
“You got to hear this, doan you? To get past it? Then I will. I’ll tell you.” In preparation, he dragged out a bottle from under his cot, refilling his flask.
Suddenly I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear this at all.
17
“Your mère got the idea in her head when you were knocked out from that shotgun blast.”
My one and only time to fire a weapon.
“She couldn’t make it down the stairs, much less out on the road—so she wanted me to take you away, to save you from the Azey. When I pointed out that you’d never leave her, she goes, ‘Not unless I’m dead.’”
As I waited breathlessly, he took his seat once more, flask in hand. “Karen told me, ‘You’re going to help me, son; you just don’t know it yet.’”
Though I’d refused to see the vision of her death, Matthew must’ve given this memory to me. With each of Jack’s words, details of the scene seeped into my consciousness.
I could smell the faint traces of gardenia in my mother’s room, and Jack’s scent: leather, and Castile soap from when he’d washed up that day.
I heard the wheeze in each of Mom’s breaths. Her face was twisted from pain, which she’d hidden from me. I could see the pulse point in Jack’s neck beating as he scrambled away from my mother, telling her he couldn’t help her die. . . .
“No way I’d do that.” His gaze went distant. “No f*cking way. But she got this look on her face—like she had steel in her eyes. She promised me she’d slit her own throat with a shard of glass if she had to. And damn, Evie, I believed her.”
My fierce mother would have. “How did you do it?” The words came out as a whisper.
Kresley Cole's Books
- The Dark Calling (The Arcana Chronicles #5)
- The Dark Calling (The Arcana Chronicles #5)
- Shadow's Seduction (The Dacians #2)
- Kresley Cole
- Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night (Immortals After Dark #4)
- The Professional: Part 2 (The Game Maker #1.2)
- The Master (The Game Maker #2)
- Shadow's Claim (Immortals After Dark #13)
- Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)
- Endless Knight (The Arcana Chronicles #2)