“Any second now, a hellhound”—I shake my head—“ademonis going to show up and cart me away to Tartarus. And even if you got me out again, I’d never be free. They’d never stop hunting me.”
I see the moment Dante realizes that it’s inevitable. He pulls me to him and plants a kiss on the top of my head.
Poppy swallows. “If you’re doing this, you got to do it now. They’re running out of time.”
Tolliver and CJ and Ezra are waiting for me. With a murderous Hades and her army of demons. And Rook, who conned us all.
Rook, a demon, who lives in a nice house. Has passions and hobbies. Collects antiques. Life as a demon might not be too bad. I can probably make this work.
I tuck the obol back into my sleeve and then slowly close my hand around my baby tooth.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to Dante.
He gives me a watery smile. “Well. I always knew my baby sister was a little bit of a demon.”
I smile back. “See you on the other—I mean, see you on this side…again…sometime. Unless you also want to come back as a demon. I just gotta go do a thing first. You don’t have to decide right now. You know, just think about it.”
Whatever. Let’s do this.
I don’t need the grimoire anymore. The words for resurrection live inside of me. Part of my very bones. I don’t remember them, couldn’t tell them to you if you asked. But they spring out of me as though all I have to do is open my mouth and let the magic out. As I near the end of the incantation, the world around me starts to go white. The last thing I see is Dante’s face smiling back at me.
TheAfterafterlife
Forty-Two
Resurrection hurts real bad.
I feel something ripped from me, some elemental essence siphoned from my blood, sucked from my marrow. It is…excruciating. And exhilarating. And eternal. And ephemeral.
There’s a coppery taste in my mouth. But even stronger is the scent of freshly tilled earth damp from the rain. Strong arms surround me, and there’s a cacophony of noise. I have to peel open my eyelids as though my lashes are stuck together with sleep crusties. Tolliver’s face is above me, eyes red.
“Oh, thank you,” Tolliver breathes, and then without warning his mouth is on mine.
It’s a quick kiss, sloppy and rushed, but it sends a flurry of butterflies so strong that it momentarily drowns out the pain. When Tolliver pulls back, his glasses are misted up.
“I can’t believe—” I cut off, clear my throat. “I can’t be—” I shake my head. “I can’t—” I blink, lifting my hand to my throat. “Is that my voice?” It’s like a record scratch or glass splintering in my throat.
“Elle,” Tolliver says, breath heaving. “I don’t mean to alarm you. But you…have horns.”
“Resurrection side effect,” I grumble. I sound like a garbage disposal had a baby with Kermit the Frog. “Update, please.”
Tolliver looks like he has more to say about the whole I-turned-into-a-demon thing, but he pushes past it.
“Um, okay. Bleeding’s stopped, but I can’t tell if your internal—”
“Not me,” I say, waving off his medical report. “Everything else.”
“Oh.” He nods. “Demons—all fled, so no one to destroy thecodex. The femur rune is only half working, so we haven’t gotten a hair yet, so I still haven’t made the banishment potion.”
I groan. “Oh, awesome. So we’re screwed.”
All the lights are out and a cold winter wind whistles through shattered windows. There are no demons left, but there’s also no sign of CJ or Ezra.
“Where’d everyone go?”
“The roof.”
I roll my eyes. Of course Hades wants to have a dramatic showdown on a Gothic turret.
