Fucking Cedric.
I hadn’t wanted to have this conversation with her. It would only bring pain—for the both of us.
Still, she deserved an explanation.
“My role,” I said, “is one that is traditionally passed along voluntarily. A human must willingly agree to assume the current reaper’s place by taking an oath. In exchange, the new reaper can, during the course of his career, elect to spare a single life—even a Fated.”
“Johann,” said Helena, “gasped when I mentioned Cedric offered to barter with you for my life. He said something like ‘I understand now.’ Does… that mean anything to you?”
No. But only because I didn’t remember my own past. I only knew the facts of my current reality.
Maybe Johann figured something out about me—which would make his earlier comments make more sense. Not what he’d meant, but the fact that he’d uttered them at all.
He could figure shit out about me all he wanted. So long as he leftmeblissfully unaware.
“Cedric,” I said, “I assume, found out about this detail of my position. I’m guessing he wants me to voluntarily surrender my role to him with the understanding he would grant his one life to you. Making such a bargain with him would require me to trust that he would follow through on that. Given that the life would, at that point, be his to grant, however, and not mine, I—”
“That’s why you said you wouldn’t trust him to hold up his side of the bargain.”
I remained silent. Because that was correct.
“But…” she ventured, a small smile touching her lips, “that means that, even for a second, you actually considered it. Negotiating with him.”
Was that true? God… was it?
“I don’t understand, though,” she said. “What would happen toyouin that scenario?”
“I would move on,” I answered quickly.
“You mean you’d go into one of those cauldron thingies. Meaning… you’d die? Um. For good?”
“Yeah,” I said, hoping we could just leave it—this whole conversation—at that.
“You don’t want that,” she guessed.
“I like my job,” I said. “All things considered.”
That wasn’t a lie. Though “like” felt like a stretch.
She nodded like that made sense to her, and she cast her gaze to the ground.
“Helena,” I said, and she looked up, her eyes misty now, though I couldn’t be certain of why. Not that she didn’t have plenty of reasons to be upset. “That one life… I don’t remember the details but… I know I already granted mine. At least, I know I don’t have it—if I ever did.”
She nodded some more. “I thought that’s what Johann must have concluded. That you gave it to someone already.”
“If I hadn’t,” I said, “and if I still had it… please know Iwouldgrant it to you. After everything… well, that would be the least I could do.”
She flushed, a tear falling, though she wiped it away quickly before waving me off with the same hand, suddenly flustered. “That’s… sweet.”
Sweet? Until now, no one had ever called methat.
Though I had meant what I said. I would have given it to her.
And God only knows what I would do if I thought Cedriccouldbe trusted to keep his word…
He was a rat, though. And I was—and would be—the Grim Reaper for eternity.
Which meant I had to get Helena home, my fucking ducks in a row, and my skull back in the game.
