Page 79 of Realm of the Wicked

Agatha’s quiet gasp told me she understood exactly what I meant. ‘When?’

This was the part I couldn’t process. The part that didn’t make sense, no matter how I tried to dissect it. ‘Next week.’

‘Shit.’

‘Yeah.’

She blinked. Once. Twice. Twisted her hands into her linen shirt. ‘So fix it.’

I froze. ‘Excuse me?’

When she met my eyes, there was no hesitation in her wise gaze. ‘You heard me.’

‘Oh, I fucking heard you. I’m just not convinced I’m not hallucinating. Haven’t you been trying to get me to forget her this whole time?’

‘I’ve been trying to protect you.’ Agatha tipped her head to the side, giving me a once-over. ‘I thought keeping you safe meant letting her go. I’m beginning to realize it’s the opposite.’

Could she see the threads too? The invisible ones that wove between us, the ones that felt like they kept me afloat of the darkness single-handedly some days?

‘Fix it…’ I repeated.

‘What good is it being evil if you don’t use your power selfishly every once in a while?’

But I was already walking away, hurrying toward my study. I could fix this. I hadn’t let myself consider it before, because Clarissa was nothing if not vengeful, and I wouldn’t ever want to put Stella in her path. But if Stella were dead, there would be no one to protect anyway.

I could fix this. I just had to find something reasonable to replace her with, something Clarissa wouldn’t think twice about. I slid my glasses back on my nose, and started flipping through my ledgers, the dates appearing one by one. Near miss of an airplane crash. Way too public. Death in a pub fight. I sneered, remembering the first time I’d ever touched Stella. Not big enough. Dates, near misses, names all bled into each other. So many souls, so many lives, boiled down to nothing more than a few letters on paper. Was this all life came down to as a human? Hoping your death meant something large enough to take up space in a newspaper column, front page if you really meant something?

Disgusting. When you thought about it. All that living not to matter.

I wouldn’t let Stella be reduced to such a thing. She’d mean something. She’d matter.

Then I saw it. A break and enter. Supposed to leave no victims. I hesitated. I’d done worse than this. Sacrificing a few people for the greater good wasn’t a strange concept to me. Neither was being cold and callous toward death. Hadn’t I gotten rid of her landlord without a second thought? But this was different. This was sacrificing people who had no real connection to her other than wrong place, wrong time. This would change everything.

The worst part was I would never have anything to show for it. She’d live her life none the wiser to me interfering. Settle down with some dullard, probably with a high-paying job, who played golf on the weekends, and I’d be here. Watching.

Always watching. Waiting for him to slip up, when I could neatly outline his name and time of death in my book.

At least she’d have a chance, though. A chance at something better than this.

Decision made, with a steady hand, I carefully crossed out the details of the near miss, filling them in as appropriate.

Home invasion. Near miss. No casualties due to a misfired gun.

I’d still have to fix it in the human realm, but it was in the book now. Official.

And now for Stella. With the same steady head, I slowly crossed out the information there.

Stella Whittier. DOD 03/04/2024. Car Accident on Highway 80.

Satisfied, I sat back and admired my work. It’d been a while since I’d saved someone. Then again, it’d been a while since I had someone worth saving.

Now to fix everything in her realm. With a snap of my fingers, I found myself in the home of the would-be break and enterer. His illegal gun sat on the counter. Idiots. All of them. Listening before I moved, the house sat silent. With a whistle, I strolled over to the gun, examining it carefully. He hadn’t bothered to clean it in who knew how long, which was most likely the source of his troubles later. No matter. That was an easy fix.

Moments later, his gun sat cleaned and ready – not that he deserved it.

Fortunately for him, she did. I nudged the gun back into place, despite the fact he wouldn’t notice. With a sigh, I snapped my fingers once more.

Stella’s warm scent washed over me the moment I landed in her apartment. I didn’t need to listen out for her. I memorized enough of her schedule to know. Thursdays were clinic day for Grace, so they’d be at the hospital. Fuck. I really was a lost cause.