Page 98

And I do consider it—as he strolls away, I consider my mother, and I consider him; I consider how free movement has returned to my limbs, how this might be my only chance.It cannot be inevitable.And—without considering anything else—I jump.

For a split second, my feet leave the ground, and hope dispels my despair, swelling like a bubble in my chest as I stretch a hand toward the veil and the bedroom beyond it. Toward my mother. TowardMichal. Death snatches my wrist before I can clear it, however, and he yanks me backward with that same cruel amusement, except now it doesn’t look much like amusement at all.

It looks like fury.

“I find myself rapidly losing patience with this entire enterprise, so you will tell me about All Hallows’ Eve.” He mends the veil with a curt swipe of his hand. “You will tell me about yoursister, and you will do it now.”

It always comes back to my sister.

Like why the hole Frederic and Filippa tore through the veil is so... different from the others.

But I can’t understandwhy—not entirely. Not enough to satisfy Death and his macabre fascination. And even if I did understand, I wouldn’t tell him. I couldn’t. “Look, I don’tknowwhat makes Filippa special, and I don’t know why she created a door instead of a window. I wish I did, but the only person who might’ve been able to tell us is dead. You killed him. Frederic and my sister—they shared something, the two of them. And that sort of love is dangerous. It isn’t for the likes ofyou.”

Though he still scowls fiercely, Death tilts his head as if also intrigued. “I am going to bring it down.”

Seven simple words, yet the ground seems to fall away as they land. Clutching another tree for balance, I pray that I misheard him. Misinterpreted him. “Bring what down?”

With a hard smile, he slowly steps over the shards of clay. “The veil, Célie. Imagine it—merging the realms of the living and the dead into one kingdom. You and your friends will no longer need to fear my embrace, will no longer need to grieve your departed loved ones after they rise again.” Despite his smile, his entire body radiates intensity as he stalks toward me. “Evangeline will sing to you once more; Filippa will reclaim Frederic, and Michal will truly reunite with his sister, as will Lou with her mother, Reid with his patriarch, Cosette with her mother and aunt. Together,we will create a world without need of a reaper—”

“—but in need of a king instead,” I say sharply, stepping behind my tree to halt his approach. “I assume you’re willing to fill the role.”

His smile turns sleek, and in lieu of an answer, he waves a hand toward the revenants again. “Burn it all to the ground.”

“What?No—”

I whirl toward the village, horrified, but he folds the veil with another grasping movement, punching through it and seizing my arm at the same time. His grip only tightens when I struggle. “Do not fret at our parting, my sweet. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”

Though I scrabble at the veil for purchase, it tears beneath my fingers, and I pitch forward precariously, halfway between each realm but craning my neck to plead, “You cannot do this. Please,thinkabout what you’re trying to—”

Death laughs and pushes me through.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Romanticizing Nightmares

This time, I fall through the veil straight into Michal’s bed.

More specifically, I fall straight on top ofMichalin his bed, which might’ve been pleasant under different circumstances. Under these circumstances, however, I crash against him like a bag of bricks, and he wakes with a snarl, flipping me over and pinning me against the mattress in an instant. His teeth bared. His eyes bright.

His body taut and heavy andverynaked.

A terrified squeak escapes as I gaze up at him, wide-eyed, unable to move with his hand clenched around my throat. At the sight of me, however, he relaxes almost involuntarily, his face close enough for me to see the precise second his mind catches up to his body. “Célie?” Instantly, his hand falls away, and he shifts backward with an incredulous expression that quickly sharpens to wariness. “What is it? What happened?”

He glances up before I can answer, and I follow his gaze to the torn veil near the grotto’s ceiling, through which Death’s laughter still echoes. Michal’s black eyes narrow to shards of obsidian.

“Was that... Death?” he asks softly.

“Yes.” I scramble upward to explain myself, to explaineverythingin an unintelligible rush of panic: “And he’s—Michal, Death is trying to bring down the veil. All of it. The whole thing. Hewants to bring it down, and he—he threatened my mother if I refused to help him. He threatened the blood witches too. And I think I might’ve told him too much, but I’m not sure because I don’tknowhow Frederic and Filippa tore through the veil in the grotto. I don’t know how to re-create it either, which means—”

“Célie.” Jaw clenched, Michal pushes back to his knees and shakes his head. “Before we talk about anything, I need you to move across the room.” He jerks his chin toward the staircase. “Overthere.”

I blink at him, startled. “What? Why?”

“Because,” he says in a strained voice, “I am naked, and you quite literally justfellinto my bed. If you want to have any sort of rational conversation, I need you to move out of it—quickly.” His hand creeps to the hem of my nightgown. “Unless you’d prefer to use my mouth for something less civilized than talking.”

My cheeks flame with instant heat—partly from embarrassment, but mostly from the visceral image of his tongue between my thighs.Oh God.Leaping from the bed, I dart across the room while tugging my nightgown back into place, and I don’t risk another glance until I’ve reached the cold safety of the stairs. His lips have curved into a smirk.

“Start again,” he says. “From the beginning this time.”