Page 45 of How to Survive Your Own Death

“Because the handbook says so?”

“Because experience has told me so!” His voice echoed. He was terrifying, a furious figure of death. Light and warmth fled from him. The temperature dropped. Geri shivered. “I have lived for centuries and seen countless others believe they could save a beloved. Spare a plaything. It is not possible.”

“And you bent the rules to save yourself,” she said, her words fogging in the cold air.

He took a step back and lifted the hood over his head. “We will speak when you are no longer irrational.”

“Yeah, well, come back when you can apologize for being a manipulative bastard.”

CHAPTER 13

GERI

Well, fuck. She wiped her eyes and dragged the back of her hand across her nose. She had no idea when she started crying in frustration, but now she was a snotty wreck.

She needed to not be there but couldn’t take the subway. Stepping over the dead body at the foot of the stairs was a level of callous she never wanted to hit.

Walking it was. The next subway stop was only four blocks away. She headed toward City Hall. It was a massive landmark at the heart of the city and conveniently sat in the middle of Broad Street. She knew the way and the walk would give her time to calm down.

Not that she had anything to feel bad about. Bazel was the one who should feel bad. About everything.

Bones trotted alongside Geri. She wasn’t sure if the dog following her was a sign of solidarity or if the dog was meant to keep an eye on her.

When the subway dumped her at City Hall, she texted Molly and asked if they could meet for a quick lunch.

I’ll bring the grub, she wrote.

Suspicious, but I do like grubs. Meet you outside in fifteen, Molly replied. A nonprofit employee was never going to pass on a free meal.

“Two visits in two days. I’d say I’m honored but you brought hoagies,” Molly said, emerging from the building twenty-five minutes later.

“I had a bad day.” Geri handed Molly the hoagie from the food cart on the corner. Bones sat patiently in front of them, very interested in their lunch.

“And bad days need bacon.” Molly unwrapped the paper, peeking at the sandwich and nodding her approval. Geri preferred a classic BLT. Molly liked an abomination with turkey, bacon, and avocado. “What happened? Was it Captain Ratbag?”

“No. He tried calling a few times but I blocked his number.”

“Good.” Molly took a bite. “I hate to tell you this, but you have a type and it sucks.”

“Hey! Don’t shame me because I didn’t find the love of my life right out of the gate.”

She feared she did indeed have a type. Patrick had been more than happy to let her work long hours and be the breadwinner. Bills had to be paid. He also had the nerve to complain that he felt neglected and lonely because she was at work all day. Jaxon repeatedly pulled pranks, knowing she did not find them funny. And Bazel…

Well, he needed a pair of hands, didn’t he? Found a convenient dead girl and resurrected her.

They were selfish. All of them, the two humans and the… whatever Bazel was. Selfish to their core and some twisted part of her wanted more. Her type sucked. What a horrible self-realization.

“Then what happened today?” Molly asked.

Ten minutes ago, or just in general? Maybe we can talk about the ghost dog waiting for you to drop your sandwich.

“It’s too weird. I don’t want to talk about it,” Geri said.

“Uh-uh. We are not playing this game. I’ve got twenty minutes before my next appointment. Spill it.”

Sitting on the ledge of a planter in front of a mid-rise building was hardly private. People passed by at a steady clip but no one paid them any mind. Perhaps it was private enough. Molly’s office was high above on the twelfth floor and had air conditioning and chairs, but Geri knew from past experience that someone would be knocking on Molly’s office door, even if she was clearly on her lunch break. And the chairs were the worst, the kind with hard plastic arms that always dug into her hips. Geri knew her behind was generous, but she didn’t need it pinched by a dang chair.

She’d take eating al fresco on the street over uncomfortable office chairs if it meant an uninterrupted conversation with her sister. She carefully considered how much she could share. One of Molly’s super powers was knowing when she lied.