Belladonna (Belladonna #1)(105)
Marjorie’s relief came in the form of a swallow and a quick exhale of breath. “Please understand that I didn’t have even a moment to gather my thoughts or decide what the best course of action was when I realized what was happening. I wanted to speak with him. To spare him if I could. He’s my son, and I needed time to think.”
“Time was a luxury that Blythe didn’t have.” Signa wrung her skirts in her hands. “I was wrong, but when you hesitated, I took action. And that action is what saved Blythe’s life. I’m sorry for accusing you—I truly am. But please understand that I also thought I was doing the best thing I could with the options that were before me.”
A vein in Marjorie’s forehead pulsed as she smoothed out her dress. “Elijah tells me that Percy has gone.” There was more she wanted to say, the hint of a question lingering at the edges. “Will my son ever be back, Miss Farrow?”
Signa had been confident when she decided to claim Percy’s years for Blythe, and she was confident now as she lifted her chin and looked Marjorie in the eye. “He will never again return to Thorn Grove. Of that I’m certain.”
Marjorie didn’t wait a breath before she stood, eyes damp and resolute. “Then it’s time for me to go. I’ve a train to catch, into the country. It’s time I begin a new life, away from this place.”
Signa vowed then to forever keep the truth of Percy’s feelings toward Marjorie to herself. It was better to lie, wasn’t it? To let Marjorie believe that he loved her. That he hadn’t wanted her dead. “Then I wish you well,” Signa said with a small dip of her head. “I hope you land somewhere magnificent.”
Marjorie nodded, and with a bow of her own, she disappeared into the hall and out the doors of Thorn Grove.
Signa gave the empty room one last look before she stepped into the hall and shut the door behind her. With the last piece of the puzzle set into place, it truly was time for her to move on.
You did well.
A familiar chill trickled up her arms and down her back as Death appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned into his touch, lulled by the comfort of it. “You were watching?”
“Not to spy,” he answered aloud, bending so that his words brushed against her ear. His grip on her tightened, lips peppering small kisses along her neck. Signa wondered vaguely what she might look like to anyone who happened down the hall, but she couldn’t make herself care. It was Death who pulled away with a throaty chuckle. “How about we move this to your room?”
“Is that why you came here?” she teased him, taking hold of his hand. She didn’t need to be asked twice. All week she’d left her window open as she tossed under her sheets, waiting for him to join her. And each night he’d ignored the invitation.
She led Death to her room as the shadows dropped around him, and he was but a young man with silver hair and galaxies in his eyes. He sighed his content as Signa kissed up his neck, along his jawline… He pulled away before she could reach his lips.
Signa drew back. “Do you not want to? I can stop, if—”
“Signa Farrow, the last thing I want is to stop. But there’s something we need to discuss.” He took a seat on the edge of her bed and whispered, as though tender words might somehow make them better, “It’s going to be harder for us to see each other from now on.”
She sat beside him and folded her legs beneath her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that Blythe is healing,” he said. “You’ve solved the murder, and Thorn Grove is well. You can only see me when the veil between our worlds has been lifted and death waits nearby.”
“But I have the belladonna berries,” Signa argued. “I can see you whenever I want.”
He lifted one hand from her lap and cupped it in both of his own. “Sometimes maybe. But I will not be another cage in which you spend your life, Little Bird. I do not want you to rely on such things just to see me.”
“But I want to see you.” The dread in her stomach sank lower. “What is it you’re suggesting?”
Her worry was so palpable that he scooted closer and nudged his shoulder against hers. “One day we will be together without barriers,” Death promised. “And we will still see each other until then—our paths will cross, as they always have. But I want you to live. I do not want you to grow to regret your days in this world, but to look fondly upon them.”
She had only just settled into this life—into the knowledge that her destiny was different than what she’d spent so much time trying to make it. She’d only just embraced the darkest parts of herself, embraced him, and now he was—what? Trying to warn her away from him? “If that’s what you want for me, then you will not leave me again,” she said sternly.
“It’s not by choice.” He squeezed her hand tight. “I won’t be able to see you every day, and I want to be realistic about that. I’ll not have you eating those berries just so we can have five minutes together.” Signa tore her hand from his, wanting nothing more than to curse at him. But she bit that swelling emotion down, for there would be time for it later.
“I have already chosen you.” There was steel in her voice. “Don’t you dare try to be diplomatic now. This is a big world, and I’m certain that there will be ways for us to find each other.”