my mouth shut because arguing with Libby probably wasn’t the best way to get information out of her. And because compared to her, even poor old Mr. Henry was a child.
“I’m just curious….” Tod began. But his mouth snapped shut at one angry glance from the older reaper, who could clearly smell his lie. “We. We’re trying to help a friend.”
“Who?” Libby pushed off of my car and crossed both arms this time, glaring down at us.
Nash and Tod exchanged glances but remained silent, so I answered. Silence obviously wasn’t getting us anywhere. But the truth might.
“We’re trying to help Addison Page get her soul back.”
“That cannot be done,” Libby said, without missing a beat. Any surprise she may have felt was instantly swallowed by her perpetual scowl. “And you will die trying. But she can reclaim it herself. Her contract has an out-clause. They all do.”
“We know.” I sighed and let my shoulders slump, hoping she couldn’t tell from my posture that I was about to tell a half truth—I was afraid she wouldn’t help us if she knew what we were really planning. “But she doesn’t know the hellion’s name. She can’t enact the out-clause if she can’t find him, and she only knows he’s a hellion of avarice.”
“I do not have direct contact with hellions.” Libby scowled. “Stupid humans.” She closed her eyes briefly before meeting mine again. “She does not have a copy of her contract?”
“No, and we couldn’t come up with a copy, either.”
“Those bastards never play fair,” Libby muttered. “But there is nothing you can do about it. Go home.” She turned then, as if to walk away, but I knew it wasn’t over. If she were truly done with us, she would simply have disappeared.
“Please.” I started after her and she whirled around, long leather coat flaring out behind her. Libby’s surprised, angry gaze found me immediately, and I made myself speak, in spite of the nerves tightening my throat. “Anything you could tell us might help.”
“I do not know who has her soul, and I will not ask for you. That is beyond what is safe, even for me.”
“Fine. I understand. But …” I closed my eyes, thinking quickly. “What else can you tell us about your job? Where do you take the Demon’s Breath after you collect it?”
One corner of her mouth twitched, like she was holding back a smile, and I was suddenly sure she was proud of me. As if I were on the right track, and she secretly wanted me to follow it.
“There are disposal centers in the Nether. The closest is near Dallas. In the large stadium.”
“Texas Stadium? The old one, right?” I asked, still thinking, and she nodded. “Would anyone there help us?”
Libby’s mouth quirked again. “No. Definitely not.”
But then, she hadn’t planned to help us, either. “Thank you.” I exhaled slowly, sure we were headed in the right direction. “Thank you so much.”
“Child,” she called, as I turned toward my car, key already in hand. When I glanced up at her, something unfamiliar passed over her face. Concern? Or maybe amusement? Figures that I’d amuse a reaper. “Demon’s Breath is very powerful, and it attracts both the desperate and the dangerous. Watch out for fiends.”
I nodded, trying not to reveal fear in my posture. But as I started my engine, Nash buckling himself into the seat next to me, I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.
I had no idea what a fiend was, but something told me I would soon find out.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you did that!” Nash said, and I glanced away from the dark highway long enough to see him grinning from ear to ear in the passenger seat, his irises swirling in the deep shadows. He looked … excited.
“Did what?” A car passed us going the opposite direction, and when it was gone, I flicked my brights back on.
“He can’t believe you asked a several-thousand-year-old reaper for help getting a human’s soul back,” Tod answered from the backseat. He had both arms crossed over his usual dark T-shirt, but I knew by the tilt of his fuzzy chin and the shine in his eyes in the rearview mirror that he was pleased. Maybe even a little impressed.
I shrugged and stifled a giddy smile as I turned back to the road. It was a bit of a rush. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask …”
“But it could have.” Nash aimed the heater vents toward the center of the car and closed the broken one, which wouldn’t twist. “You keep forgetting that most reapers don’t like bean sidhes. And vice versa.”
“Maybe I keep forgetting that because the first bean sidhe and reaper I met are brothers. Neither of whom seems to hate me.”
Still half grinning, Nash twisted to look at Tod. “Maybe we should have introduced her to Levi first.”
“There’s still time,” Tod said, and that time he actually smiled. A little.
Levi was Tod’s boss, the oldest and most experienced reaper in Texas. Except for Libby, who worked all over the southern U.S., whenever and wherever she was needed. But evidently Levi was enough of a threat to keep several hundred other reapers in line.
“So, what’s the plan?” I turned down the heat now that my goose bumps were gone. “I have to be home by ten-thirty, so we can’t look for this disposal station tonight. So … tomorrow after school?”
Nash nodded and flipped another vent closed, but Tod’s frown deepened in the rearview mirror. “Are you seriously saying your curfew is more important than Addison’s soul?”
“You’re in no position to complain.” Nash twisted in his seat to face us both, gripping the back of my seat. “Kaylee and I don’t owe either you or Addy a damn thing, and if you don’t lay off, we’ll both just walk.”
Only they both knew I’d never do that. I’d said I was in, and I meant it. But.
“If I get home late, I get grounded, and I won’t be much help to Addy while I’m stuck in my room.” I eyed Tod in the mirror and flicked off my brights as another car approached in the opposite lane. “She’s not supposed to die until Thursday, so we still have all day tomorrow, at least, right?”
Instead of answering, Tod scowled, and his curls shone brightly in the glare from the passing car’s headlights. “Can’t you sneak out after your dad goes to bed?”
I nodded and flicked my brights back on. “Probably. But if I get caught, we’re right back where we started, only getting caught sneaking out is much worse than being late for curfew in the first place. I could be late because of traffic, car trouble, or the built-in delay of hanging out with Emma. But sneaking out implies that I’m up to something my dad won’t like.” Which was true, but not in the way my father would be thinking. “And then he’ll start checking up on me all the time. He’s new at this, and way overzealous.”
Nash
