Death, and the Girl He Loves

by Darynda Jones

  “We have been together for centuries anyway, they figured we might as well stay that way.”

  “I still don’t understand when you say that. How have we been together for centuries?”

  “It’s hard to explain, because it hasn’t actually happened yet. But you’ve been visiting me since the beginning of time. We fell in love millions of years ago.”

  While I didn’t doubt that in the least—I’d learned not to doubt—I could question. I had lots of those. “How?”

  His charming grin sent tiny shivers lacing down my spine. “You’ll figure it out. You are a goddess of time, after all. You’ve done something no one else in human history has ever done. You traveled into the past and stopped the war that would end all wars. Let’s just say, the higher-ups are impressed. But this is a limited-time offer. You have to either accept or deny me.”

  I pushed my mouth to one side in thought. “I don’t know. This is a big decision.”

  He chuckled and waited patiently, knowing exactly what I was going to do. I rolled onto my toes. “Yes and yes and yes again.”

  “Done.”

  I closed my eyes, waiting to feel different. Waiting to feel immortal. It was more than I’d ever hoped for. But I didn’t feel any different, and the noises around us restarted. Everyone came back to life.

  Jared leaned down and put his mouth at my ear. “You’ll have to trust me on this. We may have to move often. I’m not sure how immortals will be looked upon.”

  Laughing, I pulled him closer, reveled in the feel of him against me. Power emanated from every beautiful cell in his body.

  My granddad walked up then, so I broke my hold and beamed at him. He’d been the patriarch of the Order the entire time I was growing up, but he’d basically taken over for my father. Now, Grandpa Mac was the minister and Granddad was a deacon. It suited him.

  He put out his hand. Jared took it into his own.

  “You’re welcome to stay,” Granddad said.

  With a relieved smile, Jared said, “I appreciate that.”

  Everyone else nodded as well, some a little more hesitantly than others, but there seemed to be a majority. Until we got to Cameron. He held out his hand and I tensed, not sure what he would do when Jared took it.

  He stepped close and said, “She’s still my responsibility. This doesn’t change anything. And I can still kick your ass.”

  The patient smile Jared wore morphed into something mischievous and slightly evil. “Care to test that theory?”

  He removed his coat. Cameron removed his. And I dropped my head into my hands. This was so not going to end well.

  Brooke came to stand beside me as they started the War that Was and Will Always Be.

  “This all seems very familiar,” she said, her brows drawn in thought.

  “Yes.” I put my arm around her. “Yes, it is.”

  POTATO SALAD AND WAR

  All in all, they were pretty well matched. It only reminded me a little bit of the battle they’d fought when Jared showed up the first time. In that one, they’d done their darnedest to destroy downtown Riley’s Switch. This time, instead of two-by-fours and tire irons, they seemed a little more focused on choke holds and knees to the face. Their desire to be close to each other was sweet.

  After they knocked a hole in the side of the building, Granddad made them take it outside. When Cameron pointed out that they were outside, Granddad replied with, “More outside,” and pointed to the forest.

  And that was exactly the direction Cameron flew after a solid kick from Jared sent him that way. Funny thing was, they were both enjoying every minute of it. I would never understand them.

  Most stayed to watch the small war. Some went home to be alone with their families, their fears quieted, and some went back inside for more food. Though we couldn’t see much of the actual action, the sounds were quite entertaining. Bones crunching. Trees cracking. And every once in a while, the air would be filled with the deep laugh of whoever had just gotten in the best punch or kick.

  Glitch fixed Brooklyn and me a plate, then sat outside with us to watch the fire and listen to the groans of agony emanating from the forest. It was a peace offering and it was nice. Grandpa Mac joined us, cringing every so often at a particularly loud crack, unable to tell if it was bone or branch.

  I turned to him. “Did you ever find out why Dyson started it? Why he wanted to open the gates in the first place?”

  Mac lowered his head. “He was a distant relation of yours,” he said, and I could tell he hadn’t wanted to. “I knew we would have to have this conversation, no matter how much I was hoping to avoid it.”

  “A relation?” I asked.

  “Do you remember the story of Arabeth?” he asked me.

  “Absolutely. She had a vision that the well water in her village was tainted. Worried for the safety of the townspeople, she ran to warn them. And they burned her for it.”

  “Yes, but her pain mostly came from the betrayal of her husband. He turned against her when she needed him most.”

  “I remember.”

  “Well, he had other children with another woman. It was from that line that Dyson descended. The husband had retained many of Arabeth’s documents. Among them was a grimoire. She never used it. Said its power would sour the user. Would foul the mind. Dyson had inherited it along with some other of Arabeth’s other writings. He had it translated and he realized what it was. He started using the spells it contained and, well, started turning his life around. He got very rich very fast and he figured, why stop there?”

  “So all this boiled down to two lines of descendants that had never stopped fighting.”

  “That’s my take on it. Oh, and there was someone in there looking for you.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Found her!”

  Ms. Mullins walked out of the dining hall, carrying a plate and a red Solo cup.

  “Thanks,” she said, clearly not meaning it.

  “Sorry¸ I got sidetracked.”

  She looked in horror toward the forest. “I can see that. What on earth?”

  I patted to an empty chair next to me. “Boys. They’re all crazy.”

  “Except me,” Glitch said.

  Brooke scoffed. “If I’m remembering things correctly, and I’m pretty sure I am, you once believed turtles were going to take over the world.”

  “I still do,” he said, completely serious. “They have beady eyes and sharp beaks.”

  I was just about to ask what that had to do with world domination, but Mac interrupted.

  “What did you say?” he asked Glitch. He seemed astounded by something Glitch said.

  “Turtles,” he repeated after taking another bite of his burger. “They’re going to take over the world. I saw it in a dream when I was a kid. Also, one bit me once. They bite hard and it got really infected. I hate them.” He took a drink of his orange soda, then continued. “I hate them all.”

  Brooke fought a grin as Mac said, “That’s amazing.”

  That got our attention. “What?” we asked in unison.

  “You may find this a really bizarre coincidence, but Dyson’s real name was Norman Terrapin-Sydow. He dropped the Terrapin early on, then later changed his name entirely to Jake Dyson. But terrapin, it’s a species of freshwater turtles. He changed his name after he got into some trouble back East. That’s why it took me a while to locate him. He went by Terrapin for most of his life.”

  “See!” Glitch said, thrilled that he was right all along. “What’d I tell you?”

  “He even had a huge tattoo of a turtle on his back.”

  Brooke and I blinked, a tad horrified that Glitch had been right all along.

  “I win,” he said, taking another bite. “Don’t ever doubt me, girls. You’ll live to regret it, I promise.”

  Brooke turned to me, still in shock. “Is this going to go to his head?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “We could be in some real trouble.”

  “Was that a human?” Ms. Mullins asked, he
r eyes wide in alarm.

  “Probably,” I said to her. “They’ll be okay. They do this all the time.”

  She nodded, lifted a forkful of potato salad to her mouth, then let it hover there as she listened to another crack followed by a loud groan. But the part that really seemed to horrify her was the evil laugh that drifted toward us.

  I wasn’t sure if I should tell her or not, but since the war was basically over, having never been started, I didn’t think it would hurt anything. I leaned over to her and said quietly, “I know you’re the observer.”

  She put her fork down. “How did you know?” she asked, her eyes shimmering in the firelight.

  “Are you remembering like all the others?”

  After she sighed haplessly, she said, “I am. I wasn’t sure what to say. What to report to the Vatican.”

  “If you don’t want to tell them I know, don’t. I’m not going to tell anyone. Unless they remember from the other reality, no one but me will be aware of your position.”

  “So,” Dad said as he came out and crouched down between us. “The observer, huh?”

  Mac blinked in surprise. “You’re the observer?”

  “She sure is. And a darned good one, from what I’m told.” He patted her back. “Welcome to the fold. Now that you’ll be kicked out, we’ll always have a place for you.”

  He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, frowned in the general direction of the sound of a tree falling, then went back inside.

  I looked that way, too. “Never mind.”

  Ms. Mullins finally put the fork in her mouth, chewed a moment, then said, “It was fun while it lasted.”

  I felt bad. They would replace her now, though I had no idea why. What else could happen?

  Tabitha pulled up then, her stereo blaring, her sports car flashing red even in the low light as she slammed the door and marched toward me. Straight toward me. Fists on hips. Mouth forming a thin line of anger.

  “You didn’t,” she said, then paused for dramatic effect before adding, “come over. I had no idea what to wear to this stupid party.”

  I stood and took Brooke’s and Glitch’s plates before turning toward the dining hall. Brooke winked at me mirthfully. “Sorry, Tab. I was a little busy.”

  “Too busy for me? Your best friend? Your go-to girl?”

  I walked to the trash barrel just outside the dining hall, tossed in the plates, then turned back to her. “How come we’re best friends only when you want to be best friends?”

  She gestured to herself. “Duh.”

  Offering up a quick prayer for patience, I said, “You know what? I think we should break up.”

  “Break up?” she shrieked, following me into the hall. “You’re breaking up with me? With me?”

  If anything could bring conversations to a screeching halt, it was a teenaged girl having a hissy fit. Admittedly, Tabitha wasn’t that bad once you got to know her. I had some fond memories that, thankfully, I wasn’t present for, but some relationships just weren’t meant to be.

  “It’s not you,” I said, heading toward the drinks table. “It’s me. I just think we need some space. You know, see other people.”

  “I—I don’t know what to say. I feel violated.”

  “Would iced tea help?” I asked, pointing toward the tea cooler.

  “No, iced tea won’t help!”

  If anyone would try the patience of Job, it was Tabitha Sind. But there was a side to her that not very many people saw. It made me question everything. I’d apparently become a bitch to keep people at a distance. Did Tabitha do the same thing?

  It was a possibility, especially when taking into account that something that had happened to her a year earlier. Something only I’d known about. Something I’d seen in one of my more horrid visions. But we were in a different reality now. Did it still happen? Better yet, could I still see? I opened the spout and let fresh iced tea stream into my cup. I hadn’t had a vision since the switch to Supernatural Savings Time.

  In an attempt to hide what I was doing, I coughed into my hand and took hold of Tabitha’s arm, pretending to use her for balance. I drew in a deep breath and concentrated. For my efforts, I experienced her horror, her utter shame and self-loathing, once again. Her future had not been changed. She’d fallen into the same trap as before. Been dealt the same unfair hand.

  The world tipped, and I found myself fighting for balance when I felt a strong arm around my waist once again. I clutched on to Jared’s shirt as Tabitha, completely ignoring me, flashed her million-dollar smile at him.

  The one positive thing that came of that little experience was that I did control the vision to a degree. I’d searched for it. Unfortunately, I found it, but I was getting stronger still. I could hone my visions to see what I wanted to see when I wanted to see it. The visions would no longer control me.

  Nah, who was I kidding? I could hardly control my own addiction to orange soda, much less something as powerful as a supernatural gift. But it was a nice thought. And at least I could control it to some degree.

  Jared growled, and I realized I’d just lied to myself. Two positive things came out of my snooping around Tabitha’s past. I got Jared’s arms around me again.

  “Oh, hey, Jared,” Tabitha said, her tone suddenly syrupy sweet.

  “Hey,” he said with a nod, his breaths heavy, labored. He set me right, waited a minute to make sure I could stand on my own, then brushed past me, literally brushing past me. Every part of his body that could touched mine as he stepped to the water cooler and poured himself a cup. He winked at me from behind it, and that’s when I noticed the blood and bruises that covered pretty much every inch of him.

  I was quick. Nothing got past me.

  “I hope you’re faring better than your opponent,” I said, trying to contain my mirth. A few weeks ago, I would have been horrified, but I’d learned to let Jared and Cameron be, well, Jared and Cameron. Apparently supernatural beings needed more playtime than humans. And roughness helped, too.

  Jared downed the water, then went for another cup. “He’s writhing in agony,” he said as it streamed out of the cooler. “I decided he was taking too long to recover and came in for a drink to pass the time.”

  “Good to know you’re worried about him.”

  He fixed a brilliant smile on me, downed the second cup, then asked, “You think I should take him some water?”

  “That would be nice.”

  He tossed the cup with a wicked laugh. When I narrowed my eyes on him, he said, “You didn’t see what he did with that tree branch. Some things are just wrong. He doesn’t deserve water.”

  I grinned and he bent down and kissed my cheek before heading back out.

  “You can do better than that,” I said, teasing him with a smirk.

  He turned back around, still out of breath, and took a good long look at me, starting at the top of my head and ending at the tips of my toes. Then he stepped back to me.

  “I’m all dirty and bloody and stuff.”

  “Exactly how I like my men.”

  His brows shot up. “Your men?” he asked, taking the hem of my shirt into his hand and drawing me closer. “Just how many men do you have?”

  “Oh, a plethora.” I waved his question off as though it were simply too difficult to give an exact number.

  “Ah,” he said, nodding in understanding. “That’s a lot. But can they do this?”

  He wrapped me in his arms and bent me backwards. I felt my feet slide off the floor and clutched on to him for balance. Then, in an act of pure pleasure, he put his lips on mine. Warm and pliant, they molded to my mouth, his breath mingling with mine. He seemed to lose himself. He plunged one hand into my hair and pulled me tighter as he angled his head and deepened the kiss.

  My insides stirred with his touch, with his tongue delving into my mouth, with the fierceness with which he seemed to want to devour me. Without breaking the kiss, he straightened and pulled me off the floor. A soft growl escaped his throat as his mouth
left mine and trailed tiny kisses to my ear and down my neck. I’d never felt anything quite like it.

  Someone cleared a throat. Someone close. I let my eyes drift open and saw Granddad standing in front of me.

  “Granddad!” I cried, reality crashing through like a dousing of ice water.

  Jared set me on the floor instantly, keeping hold so I didn’t topple over. Then we both turned toward my grandfather, who seemed … annoyed. For some reason.

  “Hey, Granddad. Jared was just demonstrating the Heimlich maneuver. You know, in case I ever come across someone choking.”

  “Unless you mean choking on someone else’s tongue, I don’t think that particular maneuver will help.”

  Cameron shouted from a distance. “What are you doing? Get back out here, you wuss! You hit like a girl!”

  “Hey!” Brooklyn shouted in protest. “There’s nothing wrong with hitting like a girl!”

  Granddad cleared his throat again. Jared took that as his cue to leave. He stepped past my glaring grandfather but turned back to me, let his gaze linger as he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. I kind of melted. Until Granddad stepped into my line of sight again.

  “The food was great,” I said, my buoyant tone ringing false even to myself. “Did I mention that yet?”

  Thankfully almost everyone had gone home by that point, but an exact account of tonight’s happenings would still be making the rounds by Sunday’s sermon. No telling what it would be on.

  “You need to see to your friend.”

  For a split second I wondered whom he was talking about. Then I remembered Tabitha. I swung around. She stood staring at me wide-eyed.

  Raising one shoulder in a gesture of innocence, she asked, “So, um, are you seeing Jared?”

  Subtle. “No, we’re just friends. Are you okay?”

  Relief washed over her visibly. She believed me. Goodness.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I just wonder if maybe I should ask him out.”

  For all her bravado, I realized that she hadn’t actually seen anyone in over a year, and now I knew why. Despite everything, I felt sorry for her.