She folded her arms. “Then what is this about?”
“You,” I said as I neared the rear of the cemetery, a Victorian section with several elaborate and freestanding mausoleums. I slowed as we neared one that would do—an ornate and elegant hut-sized stone sepulcher.
Only when I put The Judge in park did Helena glance my way again, questions swirling in her red-rimmed but still gorgeous eyes.
“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I promised, killing the engine and yanking the keys free.
“What will?” she pressed.
“At this point,” I said, dissipating into smoke, “what do you have to lose?”
I reappeared at the threshold of the mausoleum’s iron doors, the lock of which I undid with vapors.
I glanced back at Helena once, then slipped inside.
41HELENA
Maybe I would regret again following his command. But so far, when it came to Grim, I’d yet to truly regret doing anything he’d told me to do. Even now, with all this pain and uncertainty, I couldn’t bring myself to wish I’d never met him. Never mistaken him for a fellow partygoer on that balcony…
He’d changed me. For the better.
If nothing else, he’d taught me it was wiser to take chances and to stop wasting time with waffly people and things. Also, to live in the moment instead of fretting over the future or ruminating on the past—realms that didn’t really exist. Not like today did.
It was true what they said. Tomorrowwasn’tpromised. But when you had today in your hot little hand, it sure meant a lot more—became far more precious—when you thought there might not be another.
The irony was that I’d learned these lessons too late for my practical application of them. Couldn’t do much more than make my last weeks—my last days—more interesting with a bit of flair here and there. Like splurging on the good wine. Going ahead and getting the mozzarella sticks. Using the good towels…
I would have to be satisfied with that.
I got out of The Judge and approached the mausoleum, which resembled a miniature Gothic castle. I slid through the metal door Grim had left ajar and into the quiet stone chamber. A single tomb dwelled in the center of the mausoleum, its flat stone lid bathed in the pearly light that streamed in through a tall Gothic stained glass window.
On one side of the tomb stood Grim.
Lifting a hand, he crooked a skeletal finger at me, beckoning me nearer.
“You’re going to tell me what I already know,” I said, “aren’t you? That I’m not special. That what we had was fun, but it couldn’t—and can’t—last. Not just because of what you are, but what I am, too.”
And wasn’t that rundown a paranormal version of what every guy had ever told me?
Maybe it was even true this time.
“You’re going to tell me I’m a nice girl, but that death is a deal-breaker—even for you. Especially for you. Also how, seeing as I’ll soon be beyond the boundaries of space and time, you don’t do long-distance relationships.”
Even as I spoke, I went to him, and that beckoning skeleton’s hand caught my chin when I came close enough.
“You read too fucking much,” he said.
I might have laughed if my heart hadn’t been so heavy.
“This soul,” he said, pointing at the tomb with the index finger of his free hand. “I know I collected it, but I don’t remember her.”
“Great,” I cut in. “You brought me in here to tell me you’re not going to remember me because you collect so many souls. Everyone’s. Basically, you’re calling me a groupie. I feel better already.”
“I didn’t come back to rescue my car, Helena,” he snapped. “And I didn’t bring you in here to wax poetic about the futility of being together while breaking up with you.”
“But youarebreaking up with me.”
God, I sounded so pitiful. Pathetic. The words had just leaped out of my mouth.
