Page 38 of In Between Death and the Devil

“Yes. It’s just a regular headache now.” The lie slipped easily from my lips.

“You should rest.”

My eyes found Death, crouched next to the man whose legs had been crushed. She held her hands over his lower half, encasing his injuries in light. Something twitched in my chest, but that was the only response. My hands stayed dark as she healed him.

“Thank you,” he gasped, sitting up. He grabbed her hand and bowed over it. “Thank you, my goddess.”

“I take care of what’s mine,” she said, a beatific smile on her face. She patted his hand, and then extricated herself, standing. “Talia. Maeve. Come with me.”

I stood on only slightly wobbly legs to follow.

“My goddess,” Bea said. “Maeve needs⁠—”

I grabbed her hand. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. I feel much better.”

Death’s gaze was sharp, and I tried to relax, to hide my panic.

“Are you sure?” Bea asked, her brow creased with worry.

“Yes. Thank you.” Her concern was sweet, but I didn’t want Death to know about my headache. I already felt her watching me with that piercing gaze of hers that I worried could see straight through me.

“Come.” Death said.

“Yes, my goddess.” I fell into step behind Talia and followed them away from the bridge.

* * *

The trek back to Death’s rooms was silent and slow. I tried not to fidget at Death’s plodding pace. She took the long route through the busiest hallways, as if she wanted to be seen. Word of what had happened followed us, people whispering and looking at Death in awe as we passed. She smiled, a benevolent goddess basking in the adoration of her people.

When we finally arrived, I curtsied and made for the pantry, desperate to be alone.

“Maeve, stay,” Death said.

I turned, trying to keep my face neutral. Death was going to ask me about what had happened. I braced myself for her interrogation, but she turned to Talia instead.

“Are you alright?” Talia asked, stepping in close.

“Of course.” Death reached for Talia’s hand.

“This is all his fault.” Talia shook her head. The impassive mask she wore in public had dropped. Fury radiated from her. “He doesn’t even try to stop it.”

I bit my lip. She was talking about the Devil. He was a common scapegoat for her and Death, but she made it sound like what just happened had happened before.

“He helped fix the bridge,” Death said.

Was she defending him?

“At what cost to you?” Tears lined Talia’s eyes.

My brow furrowed for a moment in confusion, before I wiped it clean.

Death stroked Talia’s cheek. “I’m fine. Truly.”

Talia shuffled forward and Death wrapped her arms around her.

I shrank back, trying to blend into the wall. I’d witnessed small displays of affection between them before, but this felt like I was intruding on a private moment.

“I hate him,” Talia said, her face buried in Death’s neck.