LITMIR.BIZ

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narrowed. “And this reaper told you the girls weren’t on his list?”

      “They weren’t on any list,” I said, drawing his scrutiny from Nash. “Tod’s boss thinks there’s a reaper out there poaching souls to be sold in the Netherworld. Or something like that.”

      Uncle Brendon froze in the doorway, holding two steaming, fragrant mugs. “Someone’s selling souls in the Netherworld?” He and my father exchanged twin looks of horror and dread before turning back to us. “What do you know about the Netherworld?”

      “Just that there is one, and that some of the locals are hot for human souls.” I shrugged, trying to set them both at ease. “But that doesn’t really matter to us, right? Tod’s boss said he would take care of it.”

      The relief on my uncle’s face was as thick as the tension in Nash’s posture. “Good. The reapers should take care of their own problems. It really isn’t bean sidhe business.”

      Frowning, I scuffed the toe of my shoe into the carpet. “Except that this psycho reaper tried to take a bean sidhe’s best friend. That kind of makes it my business.”

      Uncle Brendon scowled and looked ready to argue, but my father spoke before he could. “Did people see you bring Emma back?” he asked, cradling his steaming mug as if for warmth.

      Nash sat straighter, eager to defend me. “No one knew what was happening. Em had just collapsed, and everyone thought Kaylee was freaked out over that. And once Emma sat up, they all thought she’d just fainted.”

      That was mostly true, though rumors were already circulating that Emma’s heart had actually stopped for a minute. The lady who took her pulse had probably started them. Not that I could blame her. The poor woman would probably need therapy.

      But then, so might I. And maybe Emma.

      My father shrugged, eyeing his brother sternly. “Sounds like no harm was done.”

      “Except for Julie,” I muttered, and immediately wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

      My father paused with his mug halfway to his mouth. “She’s the exchange?”

      “Yeah.” And though I knew in my heart that Julie’s death wasn’t our fault, I couldn’t escape the guilt that tightened my chest and made my whole body feel heavy.

      Uncle Brendon sank into the other armchair and shook his head in regret. “This is why you have to stay out of reaper business. That poor girl would be alive right now if you two had just left things alone.”

      “Yeah, but Emma wouldn’t.” My free hand gripped the arm of the couch. “And we had no way of knowing for sure she’d take another one. Tod said there shouldn’t be any penalty for saving a life that shouldn’t have been taken in the first place.”

      “She?” My father slowly lowered his mug onto its coaster. “Do I even want to know how you know the reaper is a woman?”

      I shifted uncomfortably on the couch and glanced at Nash, but he shrugged, leaving it up to me. So I made myself meet my father’s gaze. “We.kind of saw her.”

      Uncle Brendon sat straight in his chair, every muscle in his body tense. “How?”

      “She just showed up.” I shrugged. “When they were doing CPR on Julie. She was at the back of the gym, behind most of the crowd, and she smiled at us.”

      “She smiled at you?” My father frowned. “Why would she show herself on purpose?”

      “It doesn’t matter,” my uncle said. “The reapers will take care of their own. We should stay out of it.”

      For a moment, I thought my father would argue. He looked almost as angry as I was. But then he nodded decisively. “I agree.”

      “But what if they can’t find her?” I demanded, Nash’s hand still clasped in mine.

      My father shook his head and leaned back in his chair, crossing both arms over the front of his sweater. “If you two can find her, the reapers can find her.”

      “But—”

      “They’re right, Kaylee,” Nash said only inches from my ear. “We don’t even know who the reaper will go after next. If she does it again at all.”

      She would. The moment she’d smiled at me, I’d known she wasn’t finished. She would take another girl soon, unless someone stopped her. But no one else seemed willing to try.

      My father turned to his brother, his thoughts hidden by a calm facade. “How are your girls?” he asked, and just like that, the subject was closed.

      “They aren’t taking this very well.” My uncle heaved a heavy sigh. “Sophie’s out with her friends. The girl who died yesterday was on her dance team, and the rest of the squad is spending every waking moment together, like some sort of perpetual wake. And Val. She got a quarter of the way through a bottle of brandy this afternoon, before I even knew she’d opened it. I put her to bed about an hour ago to let her sleep it off.”

      Wow. Maybe Aunt Val needed to go see Dr. Nelson.

      “I’m sorry, Bren.”

      Uncle Brendon shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, but the tense line of his shoulders said otherwise. “She was always pretty high-strung. Sophie’s the same way. They’ll be fine once this all blows over.”

      But it wasn’t going to blow over, and I couldn’t be the only one who knew that.

      Uncle Brendon stood and picked up his mug. His every movement spoke of exhaustion and dread. “I’m going to check on my wife. Val got the guest room ready for you this morning. If you need anything else, just ask Kaylee.”

      “Thanks.” When Uncle Brendon’s bedroom door closed, my father stood and faced Nash, obviously expecting him to stand too. “Nash, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for how you’ve helped my daughter.”

      Still stubbornly seated, Nash shook his head. “I couldn’t have done anything without her there to hold the soul.”

      “I mean what you did for Kaylee. Brendon says your dose of truth probably saved her from a serious breakdown.” He held his hand out, and Nash floundered for one awkward moment, then stood and accepted it.

      “Dad.” I started, but he shook his head.

      “I messed up, and Nash picked up the slack. He deserves to be thanked.” He shook Nash’s hand firmly, then let go and stepped back, clearing an obvious path to the front door.

      I rolled my eyes at his less-than-subtle hint. “I agree. But Nash is staying. He knows more about this than I do anyway.” I slipped my hand into his and stood as close to him as I could get.

      To my surprise, though he looked irritated, my father didn’t argue. His gaze shifted from me to Nash, then back to me, and he simply nodded, evidently resigned. “Fine. If you trust him, so do I.” He backed slowly toward his chair and sat facing us. Then he inhaled deeply and met my steady gaze. I was ready to hear whatever he had to say.

      But the real question was whether or not he was ready to say it.

      “I know this all should have come out years ago,” he began. “But the truth is that every time I decided it was time to tell you about your mother—about yourself——I couldn’t do it. You look so much like her …”

      His voice cracked, and he glanced down, and when he looked at me again, his eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

      “You look so much like her that every time I see you, my heart jumps for joy, then breaks all over again. Maybe it would have been easier if I’d kept you with me. If I’d seen you every day and watched you develop into your own person. But as it is, I look at you and I see her, and it’s so damn hard. ”

      Nash squirmed, and I stared at my hands as my father looked around the living room, avoiding

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