Just thinking of Myra and Jean putting their lives on the line in the same way I had pushed fear and then—even stronger—guilt through my veins.
“I really screwed this up, didn’t I?”
He was done with the buttons and had straightened the blanket over my feet. Now he was moving around to the side table where I assumed the ice chips awaited.
“I’m gonna have to go with yes on that.” He sat on the edge of my bed, then scooped out ice with a plastic spoon. “But we got through it. We all got through it.” He nodded, and it sounded like he’d been telling himself that for a few days now.
I reached over and pressed my hand on his thigh. “I am so sorry,” I whispered.
He nodded again, suddenly very interested in dumping that ice chip back in the cup and searching for a replacement. His shoulders straightened and he twisted, ice balanced on the spoon.
“I know.” He waited for me to open my mouth for the ice.
I did and the sliver coated my tongue with clean, cool relief. I rolled it around, trying to coat every part of my sticky tongue and sore mouth.
“So. There are a few things that we’ll need to take care of today. That’s why we asked them to lower your painkillers. Are you too uncomfortable?”
I took a second to give my body a quick assessment. I was sore, yes. And there was no way I wanted to stand, or do anything else to put weight—even just a shift of gravity—on my lungs, but all in all I wasn’t doing too badly.
“I’m good for now.”
“There’s a button that you can hit if you need morphine, okay? But if you’re ready for some company, I can go get everyone.”
“Everyone? How many? Who?”
“All the gods, your sisters, Hogan, Bertie, Shoe and Hatter. Probably a few more now that they know you’re awake.”
“And here I am, looking my best.”
“You look amazing.” He leaned down and kissed me again, and I decided I could live with that little lie between us if he kept doling out those kisses.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Why all the gods?”
He was silent a second, studying me. “Myra said you should know. You should feel it.”
“I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
He placed his hand on my leg, fingers warm, palm heavy. I wanted him to rub his hands all over my body and let him remind me I was alive, whole, me.
“You died, Delaney.” He paused, letting me absorb that. “The bridge to Ordinary died for a very short time. The permission and avenue for all gods to vacation here, to set their powers down, died.”
His voice wasn’t quite as steady on the third repeat of my death, and I never wanted to hear him say it again, but braced for it anyway.
“When that happens….” His eyes went distant, as if he were reading text hanging in the air between us. “…the power of the bridge must be given to a new member of the Reed family.”
That thumped me pretty hard, and I exhaled. “I’m not…I’m not the bridge anymore?”
“No. You are.” His eyes focused. “There’s a bit of a loophole for temporary death, reincarnation, and apparently favors from Death to your father.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. You weren’t gonefor very long, technically, not even dead. Your soul was not given to Death, nor your spirit. So while the bridge was absent from Ordinary for a short time, your dad’s soul was housed in a living being, so he was able to hold it until you were back in your body. I still don’t know how he pulled that off.”
“Okay.” Was this where I told him the demon had admitted I couldn’t really die unless he wanted me to die? I didn’t actually know what that meant in the long run, didn’t know why all the gods were here to see me, either.
“Ready?” he asked.
