Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(96)



“You remind me of her sometimes,” I said gently.

Myra finally shifted her gaze to me. “I miss her.” Her normally guarded eyes swam with emotion.

I nodded, not knowing what to say to make it better. I settled on the truth. “Me too.”

She swallowed, then pulled her composed, cool mask back on. I watched as her eyes reverted to their icy blue. It made me realize I hadn’t seen a lot of my sister—the sister behind the cool mask of her job and duty—lately. “She always made me think there was nothing I couldn’t tackle. She never gave up. On anything.”

I nodded.

“You remind me of her sometimes too,” she said quietly.

A crowd of teen boys barreled through the picnic area, arms over each other’s shoulders, pointing at the sky and chanting, “We’re number one!” then yelling the Barnacle cheer.

Myra and I both gave them a quick look. All noise, no real trouble. They climbed over and on top of a picnic table and starting arguing about who was going to buy the corn dogs and chili fries.

“Could be one of them,” Myra suggested.

I chuckled. “I hope not. I’d hate to ruin their lives.”

She finally sat next to me, her shoulder brushing mine. “Are you kidding? What teenager wouldn’t want to be a god?”

“True. In that case, I hope not, because I’d hate to ruin our lives.”

She grinned. “Amen, sister.”

We sat there crowd-watching, me listening for any change in the power as hundreds of people strolled past. Other than a runaway puppy Myra helped catch, it was a pretty easy way to spend four hours.

But by the end of it, I hadn’t felt an unusual attraction or volume change in the power. Just to make sure, we’d walked all the way north to the crafting and selling booths to check out the behind-the-counter venders, strolled through the main hall, and then loitered at the exit to parking. I’d been near every person in attendance.

Nothing.

~~~

MYRA TURNED off the engine of the cruiser in the drive below my house.

“I still think you should come home with me instead.”

It was midnight, and I had my elbow propped on the edge of the window, my fingers over my eyebrows, as if even the moonlight was too much.

It wasn’t the moonlight. I was tired, aching, and the song in my head was grating at me so much that I thought bamboo spears under my fingernails would be more pleasant.

“I really want my bed tonight. Yes, I promise to take my pills,” I said before she could remind me. “And yes, I’ll call before I come into the station tomorrow.” I opened the door and got out of the car without groaning too loudly.

She shifted her left hand on the steering wheel and dipped her head so she could see me through the passenger door. “We’ll find Cooper. I promise.”

I gave her a thumbs-up and a smile I didn’t really feel. “Call me as soon as you do, okay?”

She nodded and I shut the door. I stood there a moment watching her drive away, then my gaze tracked to the bushes where Margot had recently hidden to shoot me.

A chill ran over my skin along with that memory. It was going to take a while for me to feel secure here again. But I knew I’d manage. One step at a time.

“If this stupid power doesn’t kill me first,” I muttered.

The power seemed to rouse at that thought, filling up all the spaces in my brain where my own thoughts should be.

I pushed back, tired, but determined. Then started up the stairs to my house, one step at a time.





Chapter 30


I MADE an appointment with Death. We met early Monday morning at a little coffee shop called the Perky Perch that had once been a tiny, out-of-place Victorian cottage overlooking the ocean.

Yesterday’s good weather seemed to be holding, although there was a heavy fog shrouding the horizon where the gray of the ocean met the blue of the sky.

Today, in less than twenty-four hours, Heimdall’s power would break out of me and tear the town apart. And while I would love to say we’d find Cooper in time, I knew Cooper. When he wanted to disappear, he did exactly that.

Thanatos strolled into the small space and seemed amused by the cozy interior and oceanfront views. He was wearing a slim black T-shirt with sedate gray letters that said, ORDINARY MAN. Instead of the Hawaiian shirts he’d seemed so fond of, he was wearing a knit forest-green cardigan with a subtle repeating pattern that looked like rows of bunnies engaged in butt sex.

I stifled a grin and wondered where he was finding these things. Better yet, I wondered who was taking advantage of his newly mortal self and was selling him these things.

He saw me at the table and crossed the small room to sit in the chair across from me.

“Good morning, Delaney Reed,” he said in his smooth and cultured voice. “Have you ordered my drink?”

“I did. They serve a hot chocolate that will make you sing.”

He glanced down his nose at the mug on the table in front of him. “I see.”

I sipped my coffee and waited to see if he would try it. He drew the mug across the table, cradling the warmth in his palm. “Are we here to discuss the merits of chocolate, or my singing voice, Reed Daughter?”

“Well, neither,” I said. “I have a favor to ask you.”

He lifted the mug and took a sip. He blinked, his black gaze riveted to mine, his stare incredibly intense.

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