“It’s not a second chance,” I mutter. “It’s a mission. With strings. And consequences. I either destroy the wraith, get killed by her, or get disintegrated by Death. Again, your fault.”
He doesn’t respond. Just shifts gears a little too hard, and the truck jolts like it’s protesting. If I had an ounce more balance, I probably would’ve face-planted into the dash. Instead, I just groan and flop my head back against the seat.
A stretch of silence follows. Then, unexpectedly, it’s Cassian who breaks it. His hands tighten on the wheel.
He’s unusually talkative right now.
“For the record,” he says, “you were only supposed to be our radar. We didn’t mean for the rest to happen.”
His eyes flick to mine in the rearview mirror, and this time, there’s no arrogance, no infuriating self-centeredness. He actually sounds sincere.
“Which part are we talking about exactly?” I ask, because there’s no way I’m letting this moment slip by. I’m going to squeeze every drop of honesty out of him.
“All of it.”
I glance at the other two. Nathaniel gives a small nod, like he agrees but doesn’t want to get involved. Talon just sits there with his eyes closed.
“Wow,” I mutter. “That almost sounded like an admission of guilt.”
Cassian doesn’t dignify that with a response. His grip on the wheel tightens, knuckles whitening, and just like that, whatever softness he was trying to show me vanishes.
And weirdly, it’s almost comforting at this point. If there’s one thing you can count on Cassian to do in any situation, it’s grit his teeth, flex his muscles, and stew in silence.
But Iwillget an apology out of him someday. Mark my freaking words.
I lean my head against the seat, still too weak to do much else, and stare through the truck’s cracked windshield. The road ahead is empty. A long stretch of abandoned industrial wasteland, but city lights flicker in the distance, promising that civilization isn’t too far away.
“I hope no one saw my face,” I say after a while. “Wouldn’t want to give someone a heart attack, seeing me back from the dead.”
“Like who?” Talon asks, his eyes still closed.
“All my Gran’s neighbors. Little old ladies, all of them. One glimpse of me on the street and boom—heart attacks all around. And honestly? Fair enough.”
The thought simmers for a moment before another, better one hits me.
The best one.
“Oh my god,” I exclaim, the brilliance of it giving me just enough energy to sit up briefly. I collapse back down a second later, but with flair. I flop with a theatrical sigh, my head lolling to the side as I whisper, “I should haunt my ex-husband.”
The truck goes dead silent.
Nathaniel lifts a brow. Talon lets out a choked laugh. Cassian, in the driver’s seat, doesn’t react at all, which is exactly how I know he absolutely has an opinion and is choosing not to share it.
I take their silence as encouragement.
“Think about it,” I say, gaining momentum from my own genius. “I could show up at night. Move things. Whisper his name in the dark. Maybe even—oh, oh—leave messages on the mirror when it fogs up from the shower.” I grin, practically feral now. “He killed me. I owe him some psychological warfare.”
“That so?” Talon drawls.
"Of course!" I slap my knee weakly for emphasis. "I’ve been waiting this whole time to torment him in the afterlife. Might as well get a head start. Who knows if I’ll even survive the wraith mission? At least this way, I get some punishment in early. Tell me he doesn’t deserve it."
Nathaniel smirks. "He does."
Cassian sighs, long and pained, like he’s hanging onto the last thread of his patience. "Skye."
"Cassian."
"If you hadn’t been given this body, it wouldn’t be possible."
