Endless Knight(75)

The idea that someone like him might be lonely made me think of him as, I don’t know, more human. As if he were a normal guy in his early twenties, maybe a former college student just trying to get by.

When he was anything but. He was the Endless Knight, an immortal killer. He probably preferred being alone, lacking the need for companionship that I had.

“You won’t cough up a single book?” I said. “Are you scared I’ll get clues about your personality from reading the same things you do?”


With a put-out demeanor, he rose, joining me, but not too close. Reaching high, he took down a slim tome and handed it to me.

The Prince?

“It’s in English. Almost as old as the original Italian.” With a touch more enthusiasm, he said, “You don’t lose as much in the translation as you’d think.”


“What’s it about? Is it an adventure? Maybe a love story?”


“It’s a political treatise, or possibly a satire. . . .” He trailed off, seeming to remember who he was talking to. His expression grew shuttered again, and he returned to his chair. I got the sense that he felt more comfortable with that desk between us.

Because of what I might do to him—or because of what he might do to me?

“You speak and read Italian?”


“I speak and read many languages. A benefit of being immortal. I have much time for study.” He waved a hand, indicating those scrolls. “And I wish to continue with my research. Now.”


Leaving me to return to my solitary turret. Just the thought of that made my three shots of vodka churn in my gut. At least being with Death was interesting. “I could start this book here, while you research. We could read together.”


Was he wavering?

“I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”


He narrowed his eyes. “You think I can’t see what you’re doing? What your plan is? Leave me, creature. Do not come back here.”


With a touch of cockiness, I said, “But I have to return this book once I’m done.” I wagged it in front of him. “It’s only etiquette.”


In a tone ringing with finality, he said, “Consider it an early parting gift.”


31


DAY 279 A.F.

—Hunts and campaigns.—


I woke, rubbing my eyes. Matthew, is that you? I scowled to find Cyclops beside me again. He licked his massive chops, then dozed once more. What time is it?

—Dunno. Always dark.—


Yesterday the sun had risen for only an hour or so. Endless night in the lair of the Endless Knight? I tried to block that out of my mind. I’d wanted to foil the game, which wouldn’t matter if the entire planet failed. Where have you been? You haven’t checked in for five days.

—Busy.—


Tell me Jack’s doing better. We’d now been separated for three weeks, and I’d grown more and more frightened for him. I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think beyond escaping to reach him.

Or finishing my job here.

I wished I had some kind of update for Matthew, but my life seemed to be stuck on pause, Groundhog Days repeating themselves. I’d gotten no closer to the arrogant Reaper. My only development was that I’d grown accustomed to the cilice. This wasn’t a good thing; I’d planned to rid myself of it before I ever got used to it.

—Better? Jack’s doing different. We go on hunts and campaigns!— Matthew sounded like a sixteen-year-old who’d just scored his first car.

What does that mean?

He showed me a vision of Jack. Instead of the frenzy he’d demonstrated before, Jack was coldly cleaning a rifle, focused with a deadly intent. Still not drinking.

What happened?

—Others know your location. Beware the lures.—


As Death had spoken of. Yes, and?

—I won’t tell Jack how to reach you. So he plans to learn your location from others.—


As I sputtered mentally, Matthew continued. —We go on hunts for Arcana. Planning a new campaign!—


What are you thinking?? This was the most furious I’d ever been with Matthew. Jack doesn’t HAVE POWERS.

—Selena and Finn help too.— His tone was surly now.

Please lead them all away from danger! Promise me, Matthew.

— Proximity. Seduction. Freedom. Hunts! And campaigns!—


Then he was gone, as good as hanging up on me. Leaving me even more frantic to return to them all.

How? How? How?

Proximity? Death had a marked aversion to me. I’d ambushed him twice, but only felt farther away from my goal. My next move would be standing in the rain while he trained, looking like an even bigger idiot.

What did I know about seduction? I was sixteen going on seventeen. I’d had sex once. I’d always gotten advice from the worldly Mel.

She would know what to do about this. I remembered one time when we’d had a car wash fund-raiser for our cheer squad. She’d shown up in a tissue-thin white T-shirt and a black bra.

Her line of cars had stretched around the school.

But there were no cars around here to wash. In what situation could I be expected to wear a wet T-shirt?

It dawned on me. I turned to Cyclops. “Boy, you stink.”