Page 43 of In Between Death and the Devil

“With no Death Chord connecting Death and me,” he continued, “the bridge is the only link between our two sides. It’s holding the realm together.”

My stomach bottomed out. Death had said the same thing, aside from the part about the Death Chord. The two of them hated each other, but they agreed on this. I was the reason the bridge had broken, and the realms had nearly shredded. Heat built in my veins as my resistance crumbled. I believed him. So help me, I believed him. I was Death’s Successor. And I would be the destruction of everything.

Power surged through me. This time it wasn’t just my hands that lit up. My entire body shone like a beacon.

The Devil stumbled back, shielding his eyes.

Despair threatened to choke me.

“It’s okay, Maeve,” the Devil said. “Focus on the sound of my voice.”

I latched onto it, the familiarity of it strangely comforting.

“Don’t resist it,” he said. “Let it flow through you as hot as it wants.”

“But—”

“You won’t hurt anything. I promise.”

It was a struggle to do as he said. All I wanted was to shove it back to where it came from. The mere thought seemed to charge the power cascading through me. It grew hotter and flowed faster. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to let it go. Standing as still as I could, I focused on my breathing instead of the fire roaring through my veins.

At first, nothing happened. If anything, it only burned hotter. Then all at once it died down, the light under my skin dimming before winking out.

“Well done, Maeve.”

“Is it?” I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight against the burn of tears. I was a threat to everyone and everything. I wondered again what I’d done in a past life to warrant such a punishment. “How can you say that, when my presence nearly destroyed the In Between?”

“Because you aren’t just the problem, you are also the solution.” My eyes flew open at his words. The hope in his eyes made my stomach swoop.

“What do you mean?” My voice was tight.

“Death pushed the In Between out of balance with her actions. She isn’t supposed to be here. You can fix that by taking her place.” He gave me a small smile, almost apologetic.

“I can’t—” My throat closed, cutting off my words. Panic curled tightly around me. It would have been laughable if there wasn’t so much at stake. It couldn’t be me. I couldn’t think of a worse person for the job. Darkness tinged my vision and I swayed on my feet.

“Breathe, Maeve.” He took a step towards me.

I responded instinctively to the command in his voice, just like I had the night we met, inhaling on a shaky gasp. “I can’t be Death,” I said when I found my voice. “I couldn’t control my curse in the World of the Living. I can’t control my… powers,” I nearly choked on the word. “How am I supposed to do this?” A tear slid down my cheek. “If the fate of the In Between rests on my shoulders, we are in serious trouble.”

“You’re not alone, Maeve.” The Devil approached me slowly. “Many Successors feel that way, even when things aren’t so fraught.” He reached for me, watching me carefully to gauge my reaction.

“Did you?” I didn’t stop him as his hand cupped my face, and he gently stroked my cheek, wiping away the wetness there. My breath hitched, and I leaned into his touch, so desperate for something to anchor me.

“Yes. I’d come here to escape my ‘gift’ because I hated it. Discovering that I couldn’t outrun it was devastating, but then I realized there was a reason I had it. It gave me a purpose, one I couldn’t have imagined, and there was not only comfort, but satisfaction in that.”

Gods. I wanted that. So badly that I trembled with it. A purpose. For there to be a reason for my family’s death. To not be a danger or a burden. To be wanted. Needed.

“It’s a calling, not a choice.”

I froze at the sound of my mantra on his tongue. “The judge, during my sentencing for killing my family, said the same thing. Did you…” I swallowed. It felt ridiculous to ask, the idea far-fetched, but I had to know. “Was he working for you?”

“Yes. I wanted to give you the chance to come to the In Between as Death’s Successor. You couldn’t do that if you were dead.” He said it without a trace of shame.

My jaw dropped. For him to have given an order like that, he’d had to know not only who I was, but what I was. “How long did you watch me in the World of the Living?”

“I think you were six or seven the first time I viewed your Soul Record, but I’d been searching for potential Successors for decades at that point.”

Heat suffused my cheeks as I thought about what he’d witnessed over the years. A Soul Record was exactly what it sounded like: a record of the lives a soul led. Judges and Tempters used them in determining a soul’s sentence. The Devil hadn’t let on that he knew who Colt was, or what had happened when we viewed my memory, but he did.