Page 145 of Endless Terrors
I faced Laurie across a field. Dressed entirely in black, the Seelie King cut a striking figure against all the whiteness around us. The ends of his hair lifted in a cold gust. It hung free tonight, the perfect strands shining like moonlight on a glassy lake.
“To make a deal,” I answered finally. “I’m getting Finn’s soul back. There must be something I can trade for it.”
Laurie’s eyes darkened. In that moment, it felt like the air thickened, as if the sky was gathering to shoot a bolt of lightning at me. My instincts shifted uneasily, power recognizing power. “For once in your life, think with your head instead of your heart, Fortuna,” he said.
“You’re one to talk.” I tried to smile. I’d forgotten how, though. My gaze moved past Laurie, looking toward the trees. They were the same trees I’d seen Finn’s fluffy tail vanish into a hundred times. My voice was tight with pain as I said, “He would do it for me.”
“Without a doubt,” Laurie said bluntly. “But didn’t you see the look on his face? He was relieved. He was glad to go. He wouldn’t want you to put yourself in this position again, and especially not for him.”
Laurie’s words made me pause, just as he’d intended. I’d only been thinking of getting Finn back. I hadn’t given any thought to what came afterward. Now I imagined Finn here, alive, and the image hurt. A flash of someone hollow-cheeked and silent. Collith had never been the same after I’d brought him back. But returning to Earth was better than an eternity in Hell, wasn’t it?
Then it occurred to me … what if I ripped him from a different place?
Finn had been good, through and through. Lucifer had once told me that we end up where we think we should. All Finn had wanted was his family. What if he’d actually found his way back to them?
Damn it. Laurie was right.
As the weight of resignation settled on my shoulders, it hit me all over again. The realization that I’d never see Finn again. Unbidden, my mind filled with the memory of his last moments. Not the dream I’d distracted him with, but the terrible sight of him on the floor. Or what was left of him.
I clenched my jaw. “He deserved so much better.”
“What he deserves is peace, and if you do this for him, he’ll never have it.”
I turned my face toward the horizon. The sun was gone now, and something about being surrounded by twilight jarred my memory. Suddenly I remembered the dream I’d had while I was in that coma. I had been so distracted by Finn’s death that I’d completely forgotten someone else’s. I refocused on Laurie, my stomach hard and tight.
“What did you do to Bella O’Connell?” I asked.
“Do you mean that screechy human with the awful cowboy boots? Alive, unfortunately. Your witch did a spell. Bella O’Connell is safe at home, tucked in her bed. If you ever cross paths again, she’ll have no idea who you are. If I’d had my way, she’d be decomposing in a shallow grave, but I was outvoted.” Laurie’s tone was disgruntled.
Good, I thought. That was good. One loose end I wouldn’t have to worry about.
A few seconds went by. Laurie said my name. I met his gaze slowly, noting the concern in his eyes. But I couldn’t bring myself to care. A new plan was forming in my head, and no matter how much part of me wanted to recoil from it, I couldn’t.
“There’s going to be a wake,” I said dully, turning away from Laurie. “I’ll text you the details when I have them.”
He responded, but I didn’t hear it. A single thought pounded in my head like a drum, making the long walk feel like a death march.
If there was no going back, all that remained was forward. And I knew what I had to do next.
April arrived with a rainstorm and a funeral.
It still felt like winter, but the days were warmer, transforming the frozen soil to cold mud. Even so, my breath still sent plumes of air into the morning. Car doors slammed behind me, the sound stark, like someone clapping their hands in an empty room. We were all here, I noted distantly.
Well, everyone except for one.
Even Adam and Danny had come to Denver today. As we made our way into the church, mountains visible in the distance, I tugged at the bottom of my gray dress. It was too short, but it was also the only one I owned that didn’t seem like it should be worn by a faerie queen. I’d wanted to look nice for him. For Finn.
It felt wrong to hold the service here, to bury him in a cemetery full of strangers. For a while I had considered cremation. But Finn didn’t belong in a container, alive or dead, and there was still a small chance of finding where his family was buried. I’d sent a text to Cora, and the young alpha had promised to look into it. Astrid might’ve known something, and maybe she’d passed that knowledge on to someone in her pack.
In the end, I’d decided to put him next to my parents.
Finn was family, after all, and I thought Mom and Dad would’ve loved him if they’d had the chance to know him. Maybe they were getting that chance now.
Collith and Laurie stood to my left. Gil stood to my right. His face was clean-shaven, his hair gelled and combed. When we’d first gotten to the church, I had been on the verge of breaking. Then I took one look at his face, and I poured glue into the cracks that formed me. A person I loved was gone, but there was someone else who still needed my strength. Or whatever was left of it.
That strength felt dangerously precarious after the service came to an end and I watched Finn’s casket get carried out. My fault, I kept thinking. My fault.
We made our way through the cemetery, and once we reached Finn’s plot, the pastor opened his bible again. “For they quickly pass, and we fly away …” the human recited.
