“You’re making biscuits?Now?Do you think maybe we can get the hell out of here first?”
There’s a puff of air that sounds distinctly irritated.The ground beneath us rumbles and shakes.
“Oh yes.Forgot.Huge rip.Wraiths escaping into Ora.Now is a good time to leave,” Mortem says and head-butts my cheek.
Wraiths escaping?Midnight…
“She’ll be fine.Midnight’s a cockroach.Never dies.Come on.”
I didn’t think much past breaking my contract with Ignatius, but I know what a vindictive and vengeful bastard he can be.I’d put money on the fact that now he’s lost his favourite toy, he’ll find a way to come after me.If I stay anywhere obvious in the underworld, he’ll hunt me down.
Now what?Try the Celestial Realm?As I push off the ground, something sharp digs into my palm, slicing it.
Mortem sniffs.“Mmm, dinner,” he meows.
I smell it too.“Blood?”I breathe.“How is that possible?”
“Not dead,” Mortem says.
“My soul was reaped.I can’t be alive either.”
“Then you are a special snowflake, as well as exhausting…” he says, nudging me to get me going.
I’m going to swat his furry backside if he doesn’t cool it with the snark.My spine grows clammy, my breathing shallow.I have spent my life reading the fine print, understanding the rules, and recognising that all I needed was enough knowledge and I could get myself out of everything.
If I’m not Lucy the demon, and I’m not the contract, then I don’t know what I am.What rules am I playing by?
And that’s a good point because where is Mortem even going to lead me?If I’m not dead, then will I even be able to get into the Celestial Realm?If I’m not a demon anymore, then I won’t belong in the underworld.And if I don’t have a soul then I don’t belong in Ora either.
That thought sinks heavy in my gut.My throat thickens and my world narrows to this godsawful realisation.I don’t belong anywhere.
I wipe my hand across my thigh, smearing the blood, and trail after the sound of Mortem’s padding feet.
“Hey, Mortem…”
“Meow.”
“Where are we going?I have no soul, I can’t go back to Ora.”
“True, but you’re also not dead so…”
“Don’t give me hope, it’s cruel.”
His tail jitters around my calf.“Way I see it, you have two choices.Try to go back or stay.”
“Yeah…” He’s right, of course.But I hate the way hope floods my chest, tightening and clamping down, my breathing rapid.
Possibility.
The promise of a second chance.He’s right, I have to try.
“I’ll take you to a door,” he says and continues plodding.
There’s a pause as he pads further away.I chase after him, realising there’s more I need to say.
“Thank you… you know, for coming after me.”
He doesn’t respond, but a faint purr hums around me, making me smile.
