Belladonna (Belladonna #1)(50)

Yet no matter how much she pretended otherwise, Signa craved that burn.

“Ah yes.” Death’s voice was a purr in the night. “That’s what I thought. I have the power to help you, but I won’t force myself on you. You must come of your own bidding. My touch is fatal, Little Bird. Just a brush of my skin, and you’ll be behind the veil again, able to access your powers until your body repairs itself.” He held out his hand. “No more pretenses—I want to show you our world. Say the word, and tonight I’ll teach you to access your power without the belladonna.”

The memory of their time in Lillian’s garden surged, and Signa recalled the slice of the cold metal gate through her body. The pressure on her unmoving lungs as they sat frozen in time. There was something else she remembered, too—the freedom. The power.

What would it mean, though, if she acted with Death’s wrath? If she allowed herself his power—what did that make her? There was a darkness waiting to embrace her, waiting to drown her. It was the side of herself she’d fought tooth and nail against, for should she give in to such desires and embrace the powers within her, just what might she become?

“Do you know which tunnel leads back to Thorn Grove?” she asked.

Death replied coolly, “I do.”

“And can you lead me there?”

“I will not.” Signa noted his choice of words with annoyance. “You have abilities that are unheard of, Signa Farrow. You are no ordinary human, and it’s time you stopped acting like one. If you would embrace the power that I see in you—”

“It doesn’t matter what you see!” Her words rang too loud, piercing in her own ears. “What if I want to be an ordinary human? I’m tired of you following me wherever I go. I’m tired of people dying!”

Though she saw no nose, Death looked as though he were pinching the bridge of one. “If you’d let me show you what you could be—the power that you could wield—you might change your mind. Perhaps you think an ordinary life will suit you now, but what happens when that’s no longer enough? When there is a void in you that cannot be filled by tea and gossip?

“I have tried to leave you alone,” he continued. “I have tried not to care. To not get involved. But we are connected, you and I. Our fates—”

“Fate can sod off!” Her temples pulsed with a blossoming headache. “I can determine my own fate without your help.”

There was a smile in his voice. “If I ever see Fate again, I’ll let him know you feel that way.”

Signa stilled, though this shouldn’t have surprised her. If Death was real, then why shouldn’t Fate be?

Death noted her curiosity. “Tell me, do you truly wish me gone? Because I have tried to leave you. Yet every time I do, it seems you find a reason to pull me back. Say the word and I will try again if that’s what you want.”

When he drew a step away, Signa reached out instinctively to stop him. “Wait!” He stilled without hesitation, and the tension in Signa’s chest eased some, and she told him, “I would prefer not to have everyone around me die, yes. But… I don’t want to be stuck in here alone.”

Again, Death reached out his hand. “My offer still stands, but you need to make a decision. I’m a busy man, remember?”

“Yes, I’m sure I’m preventing you from a dozen deaths as we speak.”

He scoffed. “Souls are not patient creatures. Whether I go to them or not, they’ll find me soon enough.”

She rolled her eyes but knew there was no changing his mind. “Fine.” The word came through gritted teeth. “Make me a promise, and I will play your game.”

His empty, waiting hand clenched tight. “I don’t make promises I cannot keep.”

“Good. Then promise me you’ll leave everyone in Thorn Grove alone. I’m tired of making bonds, only for you to take them from me.”

The air grew even tighter, her lungs colder. When Death spoke again, all amusement—all his curiosity—had evaporated. “You had an uncle who ignored you. Who stole from your fortune and kept you locked away in a room so that he could bring the entire town to his bed. You had an aunt who abused you and another guardian who you never had to meet because he was someone who was not fit to ever be left alone with young girls, Signa. And as for the one who died in the bathtub? She had a scheme to marry you off to her friend’s son so that he could take over your fortune and help them obtain wealth.

“I kept hoping that the next would be better than the last,” he continued, “but greed turns people into monsters. Was it truly so terrible to have yourself freed from them?”

She’d never considered her life and all its upheaval in such a light. She’d been so young, and in too many strange situations to know what was normal and what wasn’t. He was right that her guardians had all been cruel to her. All but one. “I had a grandmother who did none of those things,” Signa argued. “What about her?”

The shadows around him jerked, irate. “All those who live must die, Little Bird. You know as well as I do that it was her time. I came for her while she still had her dignity.”

Signa ground her teeth, wanting so badly for her frustration to only grow, never ebb. “Because of you, I’ve had a life of isolation. It was one hardship after the other because everyone around me believed that I was cursed.”