Page 115 of Nightshade

“What was his obsession about?”

The marking on my arm suddenly itched at the question, and I scratched at my sleeve where it lay hidden beneath. “Another day, perhaps. Anyway, I just wonder if maybe he captured someone’s attention. Someone who didn’t appreciate it.”

He shrugged, his gaze, as always, thoughtful and mysterious. “The motivations of humankind are a mystery to me. Like you, for example. What compels a woman to leave everything she knows in search of the impossible?”

The question, so simple in nature, felt like a complex equation inside my head. One for which I still hadn’t worked out an answer. “I don’t honestly know. I just felt a strange pulling. Like, if I walked away, everything would be lost and I’d never get the opportunity again.”

“I don’t suppose alcohol played a role?”

Chuckling, I shook my head. “No. It was pure curiosity and an overwhelming sense of longing, I guess.”

“What is it that you long for?”

“Contentment.”

Again, his eye flickered as if the word struck his thoughts, and he stared somewhat unfocused. “Surely not, a woman like you. Contentment would be boring.”

With a smile, I quietly absorbed his comment, noticing the landscape had changed from dense forest, to small houses and cobblestone roads that announced we were approaching a town. “You’re probably right. I do require a certain baseline of excitement, or I’ll lose interest.”

“I imagine so. What is it that filled your exciting days?”

“I was a student. Lectured on occasion.”

“Your field of study?”

“Symbolism. Iconology.”

Through his parted lips, I watched his tongue slide over his teeth. “So, this whole expedition must be very enlightening for you.”

“I’m actually more confused than before, if that’s possible. Can I ask something?”

“Asking permission to ask a question is sure to mean it’s something I’ll be inclined not to answer.”

“What is it Van Croix & Associates does? And is that why they call you Death?”

His jaw shifted, eyes studying me, as if contemplating whether, or not, to answer. “Most aren’t privy to my business. Those who are don’t endeavor to call me that name. I’m a broker of souls.”

“Like … broker as in buying and selling?”

“Yes.”

“Trafficking?”

“No. I merely assist in the transition from one stage to the next.”

I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around the way Nightshade worked, or how non-humans functioned so seamlessly with humans. “So, you’re more of a funeral director for the afterlife?”

“I suppose in its most rudimentary form.”

“And these souls … you sell them to ...”

“The highest bidder. Unfortunately, the heavens tend to be a bit more frugal when it comes to those in Nightshade.”

“Do you … kill anyone?”

“If you’ll recall, those here are already dead, Miss Ravenshaw.”

“Yes, of course. I just mean … is that the reason you hired Jesper?”