Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(35)

“Nice duds.”

He peered down at his shirt and brushed long, thin fingers over the riot of colors and palm fronds. “Appropriate vacation apparel, I believe?”

“Absolutely,” I said with a straight face. “Really goes with your expensive black wool slacks and shiny shoes.”

Roy chuckled.

“One must keep a sense of elegance even when one is in repose,” Death said, airily. “I believe you and I have personal business to attend, Police Officer Delaney Reed?”

“Just Delaney or chief works fine,” I said, shrugging into my jacket. “Roy? You got the shop for an hour or so? Ryder should be back from the ride-along with Myra soon.”

“Take your time. Can’t imagine we’ll have much excitement today.”

Death, ever the gentleman, opened the door for me.

We walked out to the parking lot. “How do you like the place so far?” I asked.

“It is…quaint.”

“Quaint is what we aim for.” I stopped by my Jeep and nodded toward the passenger door. “Get in. I’ll take you to Raven and we’ll get your power secured.”

I opened my door and watched him cross to the other side. He walked with a fluid poise, back straight, head high. I thought if I stacked a tower of full wineglasses on his head and told him to walk a mile, he wouldn’t spill a drop of it.

I settled into the driver’s seat and he eased himself into the passenger seat.

“I need to ask you a question.” I drove to the main road. Turned on my blinker, waiting for a break in traffic.

“Many do.”

He sat with his hands folded in his lap, his eyes taking in the scene of the town moving past us with rapt attention. I couldn’t tell if he was amused or fascinated by the people and traffic.

“Heimdall died last night.”

“Heimdall remains,” he said.

“If you mean in a body bag, then yes.”

“Heimdall represents the power of that name. That power still exists. In you, Reed Daughter. Do you not hear it? Heimdall remains.”

“Delaney,” I reminded him. “Yes, I understand his power is still around. And that it’s…inside me.”

Heimdall’s power had done more than knock me out last night. It had taken up residency in me. It was a weight of sound, a constant crash and shrill occupying a weird space in me I didn’t even know I possessed.

I had one week to find it a new home. I knew I wouldn’t take on the traits of the power—that was the Reed gift: we were completely immune to god power. But I’d watched Dad when he carried Poseidon’s power for almost the full seven days before finding a mortal to give it to.

Carrying the power that long had exhausted him. He hadn’t really recovered for a month afterward.

“The red of pain,” Than said.

“What?”

He pointed at the traffic light. Red.

“Crap.” I stomped on the brake and brought the Jeep to a hard stop. I threw my arm in front of Than to keep him from hitting the dashboard.

Than looked down at my arm, looked over at me, one eyebrow raised. “Is this customary?”

“I was just worried you’d get hurt. And it’s just a red light, by the way. Not red of pain.”

“I shall note it. That, then, is not the green of life?”

“Just green light. We mortals keep it simple. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“So too will you, Reed Daughter.”

What did he mean by that?

When I glanced over at him, he was back to staring at the town like it held mysteries he’d never seen.

I smiled. New gods were so cute. “Thanks. I intend to be good at my jobs. All of them.”

“It has always been the way with the Reeds.”

I could ask him why he had taken my father. Could ask him if he knew the details of his death. Ask him if he knew why Dad drove off the cliff on a road he’d been driving since he was fourteen.

It had happened so suddenly.

But that wasn’t the question I most needed to know. That wasn’t the death I had to solve today.

“Do you know how Heimdall died?”

He was silent for long enough, I wondered if he was just ignoring me. But finally, just as I was turning into Raven—or Crow’s—glassblowing shop, he spoke.

“I am Death, Reed Daughter. I know each light that enters the darkness.”

“Useful. But what I’m asking is how Heimdall—his mortal body—how he died.”

“Quietly.”

I parked the Jeep. “Are you being vague just to tease me, Than?”

“That doesn’t appear to be my way, does it, Reed Daughter?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think you’ve got a wit.”

His mouth twitched. Not a smile, but as close to one as I’d seen today.

“He was peaceful. Content. That I know.” His voice took on a sonorous tone while the air in the car dropped five degrees. “He did not struggle into the darkness, but welcomed it, his soul at rest.”

I waited, hoping he’d have something more specific for me. “Uh…right. That’s nice to know. But I was really asking if it was an accident, and where the head wound came from.”

“I am the god of death, Reed Daughter, not an enthusiast of murder.”