Page 55 of In Between Death and the Devil

“If you need someone to talk to about it, I’m here. I’m always happy to listen.”

“Thank you, Bea.” My smile was genuine this time. I’d never confided in anyone about Colt. If I had, maybe things would have turned out differently. And regardless of what happened with the Devil, having Bea to talk to made me feel less alone.

“Thanks for listening to me. It helps to have a friend.” She said the last word a little tentatively.

“I agree.”

Her answering smile was bright.

CHAPTER 16

Iwaited for a message from the Devil to resume our sessions. Bea might have been right. He might have a reasonable explanation for his behavior, but I wasn’t going to seek him out to ask. He’d been cruel. It was up to him to make things right. Days passed, but no message came. No Tempters appeared to tell me Fen wanted to see me. Our connection remained silent. I could tell he was there on the other end, but that was all. The longer I went without hearing from him, the more I doubted I would.

By the fifth day, my resolve began to waver. What if he was waiting for me in the Great Hall every night, waiting for me to show up? Maybe he wanted to let me choose when I was ready to talk to him. Maybe I should go and check.

My pride rejected that idea. Every time I ventured across the bridge, I risked being seen. I wasn’t going to do it unless I knew Fen was there waiting for me. Besides, even if he was, he might not think he’d done anything wrong and my trip would be a waste of time.

I stretched, trying to loosen the tightness in my chest.

“Maeve, come here.” Death’s voice penetrated my rumination and pulled me from the pantry where I’d been cleaning.

“Yes, my goddess?” I stepped into her sitting room and stifled a gasp.

She sat at a table off to one side, fiddling with a piece of metal. The scale I’d seen Judges weigh souls with lay in pieces in front of her, like a dissected carcass. It looked so ordinary sitting there, like something I might have seen in my father’s warehouse, but its power lingered in the air.

There was something profoundly wrong about it being disassembled. I realized the tension in my chest was the In Between. It felt like a link in a chain had been removed and the two pieces on either side were left open and hanging.

“Give me your hand.” Death held the balance arm, turning it over and running her fingers over the metal.

I wanted to recoil at the idea of touching her, but I knew better than to hesitate.

Instead of taking the hand I offered, she held out a sharp needle. “Prick your finger with this.”

This time I did hesitate. It wasn’t just the threat of pain that stayed my hand. What did she want my soul essence for?

“Don’t keep me waiting.” She finally looked at me, her expression both annoyed and predatory.

Bracing myself, I did as she asked. A bead of shimmering red formed at the tip of my finger. I watched as it swelled until Death grabbed my hand, turned it, and ran my finger along the balance arm, squeezing to make sure my essence flowed. Biting my lip, I tried not to resist, but everything in me rebelled. My essence smeared along the metal surface, coating it for a moment before it sank in. I felt the In Between shudder in response. Whatever Death was doing, it wasn’t helping the imbalance.

When the balance arm was thoroughly coated, Death dropped my hand and picked up another piece of the scale. Without a word, she began to reassemble it.

“Stay,” she said, when I took a step back.

Her movements were quick and methodical, as if she’d taken the scale apart many times. Before long, it was standing on the table, whole once more.

She held out a glowing palm and a shimmering heart appeared, which she put on one of the pans. The scale tilted, the empty pan rising in response to the weight.

I felt the In Between twitch. Was it in response to the scale being used, or the fact that Death had created a soul’s heart from nothing to test it?

“Place the first four weights on the scale,” she said.

I’d been so focused on the scale, it took me a minute to realize a line of weights had been laid out on one edge of the table. Reaching for the one closest to the scale, I placed it on the empty pan along with the next three.

I held my breath as the pans bobbed, waiting to see if it would balance. When they came to rest, the pan with the weights was still higher than the other by a good two inches.

Death pursed her lips, like she’d expected this might happen. Placing both hands just above the balance arm, her hands filled with light which spilled onto and into the scale.

My hand flew to my stomach as the In Between jolted. “What—?” I cut myself off, silently cursing my lapse. Questioning Death was the stupidest thing I could do.