Page 31 of In Between Death and the Devil

I felt safe with him then. Pushing aside our current situation, I let the memory of that feeling filter through my body until my muscles softened.

“Good, Maeve. You’re doing beautifully. One more breath, deep as you can.” His voice took on a hypnotic quality, pulling me along, coaxing me into following his instructions. “Now, open your eyes and look into mine.”

My eyelids fluttered open, and I found myself snared by his gaze. The brown in his eyes darkened as the gold flecks swirled. The movement was mesmerizing, pulling me deeper and deeper.

“Think about the first time your hands glowed. Tell me how it happened.”

“I was in my assessment. I’d placed the soul pieces on the scale and was looking at the weights to figure out what sentence I deserved.” The words came easily, and it felt so good to say them, to unburden myself that I surrendered to the impulse.

“What did you decide on?”

“That I didn’t deserve to be loved. And then my hands started to glow.”

“What did it feel like?” he asked.

“Like something erupted in my chest and hot tingles ran down my arm. It felt the same as when I transferred Colt’s death to my family. It’s how I knew it was my curse.”

“That’s good, Maeve. Thank you for telling me.”

I shivered a little at his praise.

“What happened the next time?” he asked.

“I was bringing tea to the Presentation Room for your meeting with Death. I saw Bea in the hall outside. She was talking to other trainees. They looked like a group of friends. I wanted to be one of them, but I knew I never could be.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a danger to others. I’m cursed.”

“Is that when your hands started to glow?” he asked.

“Yes. It felt the same as the time before, except it came on faster.”

“Very good, Maeve.”

A different kind of warmth filled my chest at his praise, soft and pleasant.

“Now stay still,” he continued, “and keep looking at me until I tell you otherwise.”

The color in his eyes deepened to black, the gold flecks disappearing, but his gaze kept me captive as he stepped back. Raising his hand, he pointed at my face. Then he hooked his fingers, and I felt a tug. Fisting his hand, he pulled, and something spiked and dark left me.

“You can look away now.”

I blinked several times, my eyesight blurry. When the room came back into focus, a swirling mass of black with jagged edges hovered between us. The room was dark, but the mass was even darker. It seemed to consume any light that touched it.

“What is that?” I asked.

“A physical manifestation of your fear.”

Sneaking a peek at him, my lips parted. His eyes were still wholly black, and he seemed larger, broader, the way he had when I watched him claim a soul for his Dungeon. Before, I’d thought it a trick of the light but, standing only feet from him now, I had to tilt my head further back to look up at him. It was… not as frightening as it should be. My mouth went a little dry before I mentally shook myself and refocused on the swirling mass of my fear in front of me.

“It’s so dense.”

He nodded. “That’s a good description of it.”

“I thought it would take the shape of the thing I’m afraid of.”

“Fear doesn’t work quite like that. It has layers. The outer ones are indistinct. Diffuse.” He gestured to the dark mass. “As we get closer to the center, it will take a recognizable shape. Sometimes it’s a physical thing, or a person, or a memory. Sometimes it’s more of a vague concept.”