His pupils, which had been wide before were now so dark, they swallowed up all of the green of his eyes except for the faintest halo ring. He licked his bottom lip once, catching it in his teeth, then nodded. “Yes.”
A second note plucked and joined the first in strange harmony that seemed wrong at first and then slid into something not pleasant, but intriguing.
“Say goodbye to your father, Delaney.”
I turned my gaze to Dad.
He stepped forward, arms out, and I wanted to hug him, to feel him so much, a small sob escaped me.
Bathintsked, and suddenly I was free. I could move.
Dad’s eyebrows rose and he smiled. I launched myself at him, and he wrapped his strong arms around me, his left hand shifting up so he could press his wide palm against the back of my head and press my face to his chest, holding me tight, familiar and right.
“I love you so much,” he said. “I’m proud of you. Of all of you. I always will be. Remember at every end is a beginning. Remember that. Ends are only the beginning.”
“I love you too,” I said. It seemed to be the only thing I could say. Over and over again as my heart soared and broke, caught between joy and sorrow, loss and love.
I squeezed him as tight as I could, memorizing his presence, the dimensions of him, the scents of something deep like cedar, coffee, and tobacco.
I never wanted to let him go. Never wanted to leave the warmth and protection of his arms.
“That’s all,” Bathin said quietly as if he were in a library and didn’t want to disturb anyone. “That’s all I can do, Robert. I’m sorry.”
“You promised me,” he said to Bathin. “Our deal.”
“I have never broken my word. I will not break it now.”
Something about that seemed to put a brief, wild hope in Dad’s eyes.
“Delaney. I love—”
He was gone, the air in front of me empty and cold, without even a lingering hint of his scent, of his presence.
I pressed my hands against my face to wipe at my tears, and tried to pull it together. My heart felt like it was made of rice paper that was being squeezed tighter and tighter into a painful crumpled ball.
Bathin strolled over to stand next to me, so close, our shoulders brushed. “I can take that pain away, Delaney Reed. It is a small solace, but one you will know.”
He pivoted so that he stood in front of me, dark eyes inches from my own, breath close enough I could feel it on my cheek, could smell the slight cinnamon of his words.
“His soul has gone on to the afterlife of his choosing. As we agreed. And now yours is mine. As we agreed.”
He didn’t touch me. Not a finger. He simply held my gaze. I thought I could look away, turn away from him.
“Yes, you could.” He waited.
There would be a price to pay if I backed out on our deal.
“Yes, there would.” He was apparently reading my mind.
Jerk.
His eyes glittered with something like delight and I hated him for it. Before I could stop myself, before I could even register what I was going to do, I wound my fist back and punched him in the face.
His head jerked back and he grunted.
I knew how to throw a punch.
He stumbled back two steps, his hand over his nose. And then he laughed.Laughed.It was loud and deep and full of dark joy.
