Page 171 of Dead Vengeance

“That,” says Archer, dropping a kiss on my cheek, “is Dead Vengeance at its finest.”

I let out a chuckle and snuggle my head back into his shoulder. “Perfect crime. I love it.”

Just then Edgar swoops down onto my shoulder, his head low, nodding.

“Looks like he’s got another gift for you,” says Archer, leaning forward, trying to see what he’s holding.

My heart was already about as full as I thought it could ever get, but it swells even larger. I stroke Edgar’s neck with one hand while I hold out my palm. “That’s so sweet of you, Edgar! What is it?”

The gift hits my hand, cold and gelatinous and wet.

An eyeball.

Marsden’s eyeball.

Edgar looks up at me with the clearest expression of love and joy that any bird ever had on their little face.

Now I see what Archer was saying about him all along.

“Thank you, Edgar,” I tell him. “I love it so much.”

I pocket the eyeball in the overalls that I vow to never wear again, then promptly double over and throw up on the grass.

forty-seven

Homecoming

Liam

It’s bright daylight by the time we pull up out the front of my place. What I’m about to spring on my mother is bad enough—it definitely doesn’t need to be delivered in filthy, blood-stained, bullet-holed clothing. And Jem definitely does not need to turn up in his burial suit.

The drive back to Archer’s place was long and exhausting, but necessary. Hot showers, changes of clothes into Archer’s things. He’s taller than both of us, but we were able to make do, and I’ve never been more thankful to be clean and changed in my whole life.

I’m amazed Archer has kept smiling, kept talking all the way back to Ickenham. He’s a little shaky, but you’d never know there was anything off if you didn’t study him as closely as I do. I can’t help it. He’s superhuman to me. Not because he is literally superhuman. But the strength and the care of this man… He’s the best person alive. And every time he looks at me, he makes me feel like I’m that to him too.

It doesn’t feel possible he should look at me that way. That he should do all this for me. Should be by my side, even now, as I’m about to walk through my front door with my recently resurrected brother.

I stop for a moment to prepare myself. I need to be the one to start this. I need to go in there and deliver the news to my mum.

I give Jem a final nod, then drop my fingers onto the door handle. Archer’s hand falls on mine. “Are you sure you want me to come in?”

“Please. I want her to meet you. And… And I could use the support.”

He squeezes my hand, then I open the door.

The place is lit with sunshine, looking lovelier than it has any right to in this old building. My mum’s on the sofa reading a book. She jumps up as soon as she sees me, then pauses when Archer enters behind me, putting on the smile she keeps for people she doesn’t know, which I see so rarely now, because neither of us ever bring anyone home.

I step in with a tug at Archer’s hand, letting the door close behind us. “Mum, this is Archer.”

She takes a moment, eyes on mine in that not-at-all-subtle way mothers do things. “Archer, as in…”

“Mmhmm.”

She stares at us both. Looks at our joined hands.

“Archer’s, um… I’m seeing… um…”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Locke,” Archer says, holding out a hand. It’s disarming. He sounds like a school friend come back to play Xbox.