Page 139 of Grim Tidings

I stare at him. “What?”

He snaps the box closed with a huff and places it carefully beside him, watching it to make sure it doesn’t tumble, then turning the full force of his attention on me. His gaze is hard and unrelenting, even through the opaque lenses of his glasses.

“Is that not what we do?” he asks softly. He slumps farther against his desk, legs crossed at the ankle.

Exhausted, I realize. He’s exhausted.

“Is ferrying souls from one realm to the next not an act of compassion? Of love? The mortal world is a cruel, cumbersome thing. What we do, it’s … we take them away from it all. We deliver them somewhere else. Somewhere better.”

I think of Frank, returned to his younger self, standing on a beach with a bouquet of peonies in his hand.

And then I think of Gabriel, his sword at his side and his eyes right on me.

Gabriel’s face softens. “In a week or so, there will be reports of a Reaper who has gone rogue. Department heads will be summoned, the appropriate fuss will be kicked up, and a search will commence.” He plucks the wooden box off the desk and snaps the lid open once again. “But in the end, it will be discovered that it was all for naught. For the Reaper was just completing her assignment as intended.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This will be your final assignment, Darcy. At its conclusion, you will move on to what comes next.” His head kicks to the side. “Somewhere better.”

But I’ve already been somewhere better, and it’s a hole-in-the-wall bar with a crooked roof and mismatched paint. It’s a stool that leans slightly to the left and stale peanuts in a bowl.

Gideon offers me a small, tired smile. “Eat the berry, Darcy. Trust me.”

I hesitate.

He lifts the box another half inch with a short huff through his nose. “Today, sometime, would be great.”

I pluck the small, innocuous berry from its plush silk bed and hold it in the palm of my hand.

“Ah, before you taste that. One last bit of business.” He turns half-way and digs through the mountain of files and folders for something, muttering under his breath. He emerges with a delicate music box held carefully in his pale hands. A bird in a cage.

He holds it out to me. “When you get to where you’re going, deliver this to the antiques shop.”

I hold the berry in one hand and reach for the music box with another. It’s surprisingly heavy. Wellmade. “Why?” I ask.

“I believe the mortals call it groveling.” He nods at me. “Come on, now. Take your medicine.”

I stare at the small red berry in my hand. A couple of months ago, I did this exact thing and wished for something new.

I decide to trust that sliver of hope again. I toss the berry into my mouth, and I bite down on the tart fruit.

The vision swims to the surface slowly, rippling outward with color and sensation. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to focus, holding on tight to the clues that drift lazily through the murky deep magic.

My eyes snap open. A laugh that sounds like a sob cracks free.

Gideon smiles. Barely a quirk of his lips. “Off you go.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Gabriel

I’m still getting used to the bounds of my mortal body.

I get cold now. Hungry. Tired. I don’t think I realized how much I wasn’t feeling until I could feel all of it at once, an overwhelming tide of sensation. I spent the first week without my wings tipping sideways into walls. Clipping the edge of countertops. Fumbling glasses and falling asleep face down at the kitchen table.

And the dreams. Fuck. The dreams.

They’re cruel in their ambiguity. Shades of Darcy, but never the detail I crave. Her palm, easing down my spine. Her laugh, a wisp of smoke in my ear. Whispered words I can’t make out and fleeting kisses I try to chase.