Endless Knight(82)

“My reasons are my own. But I did warn you not to give Deveaux your innocence.”


I rolled my eyes at his terminology. “Really, Father Time? And what business is it of yours anyway?”


He didn’t deign to answer.

“At least tell me why you hate me so deeply. What happened between the time you were raring to take me to your bed and when you began raring to take my head?” Had Death and I slept together? I had to know! “What did I do to you?”


“To know, you must remember.” I thought he would leave at that, but he remained. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Was he casting about for something to say? Maybe a reason to stay?

After finding myself utterly alone in the world this last month, without friends or family, I’d garnered some insights into Death.

I’d known he lived a solitary existence. I’d known he trusted no one. But I’d questioned whether he preferred his life like that.

My misery had made me hypersensitive to his own, and now I had my answer.

No. No, he did not prefer this.

As I’d wandered down those hallways lined with his lifeless art, I’d realized that Lark was right—the house was haunted. By him. By his loneliness.

He acquired these grand collections because there was nothing else for him. I’d told him the game was all he’d ever really have; I saw the evidence of that in every room.

I tilted my head at him. “You’d rather be up here trading insults with me than sitting in your study all alone, wouldn’t you?”


He stiffened. Bingo.

When I was young, Gran had often caught me staring at Death’s Tarot card. She’d asked me if that card frightened me or made me really angry. I’d shaken my head firmly and told her it made me sad.

In other words, I’d felt sorry for him.

Gran had sputtered, “Why would you feel that way, Evie? He’s a villain!”


My answer: His horse looks sick, and he has no friends. Maybe that had been my eight-year-old way of saying his life seemed like it’d be hell.

He camouflaged his bone-deep loneliness with arrogance. But there was no hiding it from me now. I told him, “You probably wish I was still trying to get on your good side, because at least then I’d ask you questions over breakfast. I’ll bet you’ve gone an entire decade without being asked a single one.”


Had his face paled? “You think you know me, yet you are as mistaken as ever,” he said smoothly, but his shoulder muscles were bunched with tension. Without another word, he turned to go.

Lark appeared at the door, nearly running into him.

“Watch yourself, Fauna,” he grated, rubbing his thumbs over his fingertips. “There is no greater pain or doom than touching my skin.”


For everyone except me.

Wide-eyed, Lark backed away from him. “Sorry, boss. I-I forget.”


“Maybe your visit with the Empress will be worth the climb. Mine was tiresome.” Then he was gone.

“I see you and my wolf are hitting it off.” Lark sniffed, “He was always my least favorite. No depth perception in that one.”


I buried my fingers in Cyclops’s scruff. She didn’t mean it, boy. “I suppose Death told you everything?”


“All he’d say is that you’d ‘discovered some allies were enemies.’ Judging by your brokenhearted reaction, I knew it had to be the Cajun.”


And Matthew.

From behind her back, Lark produced a box, tossing it on my bed.

“What’s that?”


“Not a Jack-in-the-box, if that’s what you’re wondering.”


“I really hate you.”


She grinned. “Open it, *.”


With a glare, I did. “Workout gear?” Sports bras, athletic shorts, leggings. Even a little tennis skirt.

“I go to the gym every afternoon,” Lark said. “Join me later. You were a cheerleader, right? A dancer?”


I nodded. I’d been a better gymnast, but I’d enjoyed ballet more, had taken classes through my sophomore year.

“You could show me some routines.”


I set the garments away. “You’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart?”


“I’m doing it because I didn’t get to make fun of cheerleaders enough before the Flash hit. You’re my only hope to meet quota.”


“And?” I could all but see the strings attached.

“Hold on.” Her eyes flashed red. Checking via some animal if the coast was clear?

In a lower voice, she said, “Because if you dance, he won’t be able to stay away.”


“Why would you think I might care about that?”


“Again, not stupid here. This is your only play, the one way you can survive. Look, we’ve both got approaching expiration dates, and we’ve both got endgames. Maybe our paths can intersect every now and then.”


Yes, Lark’s card had once been associated with single-minded purpose. Had she been working toward her endgame all along?

My own agenda was self-preservation, but how could I trust her? When I remained unconvinced, she said, “I’m not all bad.”