“I desired you before, but I never loved you until this life.”
“Can’t help the way I was raised—anything supernatural is supposed to be either a miracle or satanic."
I rolled my eyes. “And you’re still trying to figure out which I am?”
"Non. I’m trying to figure out if I’m still Catholic.” He grinned that heart-stopping grin.”
“Death wants to gank me. Must be Tuesday.”
“My relationship with Jackson had felt fated. Whatever I had with Aric felt . . . endless.”
“Just because you're a gutless harlot doesn't mean I won't find your... attributes attractive. I might be immortal, but I'm still a red-blooded male."
"Harlot? Who talks like that? Father Time, meet the Flinstones.”
“There was French kissing, and then there was Cajun French kissing. Spicier, harder, wilder.”
“The first priest I find, I'm goan to marry you. I'm all in, peekon.”
“The hour grows late."
"Late? So? Do you have to be on Ash Campus early tomorrow? At the University of Nothing Matters?”
“How much longer are we going to do this? We have to talk about what happened."
With a harsh laugh, he'd turned to me. "It's very simple. I want you, you want another, and I'm owed a wife.”
“I told you once and I'll tell you again: there's nothing that can happen to you that we can't get past. Just give me a chance to get to you. Promise me."
"Jack..."
"Promise me. You doan leave me again."
"I promise." Staring at his lips, I said, "Would you always come for me?"
He drunkenly murmured, "Chase you like a junkyard dog.”
“You smell like honeysuckle. You likin' ole Jack now?"
"I never stopped liking you. Even when you were warding me away with the power of Catholicism.”
“Accept this: your mortal is doomed."
"Please, Aric. I'm begging you!"
He whirled around, fury in his expression. "You refused - twice - to beg me for your own life, but you'd beg for his?"
I whispered, "Yes.”
“Now, hush. We do best when we doan talk.”
“Finn caught my gaze. "I know things seem rough with him right now, but he'll come around. He went nuts when you were missing."
"He has a temper." Which wasn't surprising, considering his tragic background.
"No, Evie. He was ... frantic, out of control. I'm talking Hulk-smash on ye olde cabin. When he realized our lack of transportation was the sole thing keeping him from you, he stormed back into that militia's camp, striding into a hail of bullets. Dude didn't duck, didn't sidestep, just rolled in, killed, took that jeep."
My lips parted as I stared at Jackson in amazement.
"He loves you," Finn insisted.”
“Or maybe I was learning that nothing was black and white.”
“Even over the rumble of the quakes, I thought I heard Jack rasp, "Bebe?" Then louder: "Doan you do this!"
I gasped out, "T-take care of him, Jack-" Death yanked me to him, sweeping me up in his arms. I fought him with any strength I had left, hyperventilating, dulling my claws on his armor, not even scratching it. Death just laughed.
"Evie! EVIE!" Jack's bellows grew fainter as the light brightened. "I'm comin' for you! You know I will!”
“Jack stopped at the entrance, cupping my face. "Stick to me like a shadow, you." How many times had he told me that?
"I regenerate. I need to go first!"
Dafuq. "You're goan to stay behind me and step where I step. Same for you, coo-yon. This ain't up for discussion!”
“This game is a hell we’ve all been damned into. It’s designed to madden us. The most intelligent Arcana ever to play is called the Fool. The one who least wanted to kill was named Death. And you, Empress, rule over nothing!”
“Earlier, I’d found Lark in the gym, telling her, “I’m giving Cyclops a bath.”
Her response: “Your funeral.”
“Kill the unclean one!”
Being called that was really getting old. Like it’d been funny the first two times . . .”
“Death wants to gank me? Must me Tuesday.”
“You wanna know what I’m feeling? Lemme tell you, bébé. Amusement. You’re acting like we got some kind of choice in this matter. You’re just as screwed as I am—because we’re both too far gone for the other.”
“Maybe when we got up on the bridge I’d jump, Last of the Mohicans their asses!”
“Occasionally, he left the compound. I’d figured he must be out hunting, at least some of the time, but he hadn’t returned with a new icon, and I’d heard nothing on Arcana Radio. Plus, Lark’s laminated player list—the little twit actually did keep it on the fridge door—had had no updates since the Star.
Well, other than her scratching my title out and scribbling in “The Unclean One.” Har.”
“Oh, God, my poison! I didn’t know you then! Had no idea what you would come to mean to me!”
“I started my career early.” At my raised brows, he said, “Assassin. My deadly gift made me well suited for the job. A single handshake could bring down a monarchy. The money grew over the centuries.”
His tone was blank; I couldn’t tell how he felt about his past deeds.
“So that’s where you got those crowns.” Trying to keep things light, I said, “Admit it—you wear them when no one’s around. Play air tennis with the scepters?”
“No, Empress. I do not.”
“Can I, can I?”
On the verge of grinning, he said, “No, Empress, you may not.”
“A veces solo tienes que estar loco o triste, Evie. A veces solo tienes que dejar que suceda. Pero ponte un límite, a continuación, vuelve a ser feliz.”
“Evie?”
“I want this, Jack! Kiss me.”
He did, briefly muting the Reaper, rekindling my excitement.
But Death was yelling. —NEVER, CREATURE!—
This place was perfect, a moment in time; it should be just me and Jack. Now Death was ruining it. “It’s no use. He doesn’t want us to do this. And I don’t understand why.”
“Look at me, Evie. Stay with me.”
I gazed up at Jack, peering into his eyes. They were stormy gray, filled with desire, yearning. Even vulnerability. “He doan get a goddamned say, now, does he?”
When Jack held my gaze, Death was quieted, the heavy weight of his presence ebbing. —Sievā, do not do this. . . .—
See-whatta? Then he faded.
Faded to nothing.
“His voice is quiet. This is working!”
“Then I’m goan to be looking into your eyes when I take you. You hear me?”
I nodded, wanting this more than I’d ever imagined I could.
He traced his hand between us, lower, lower, dipping his fingers. “So hot,” he groaned. “So perfect. You want this too.” It wasn’t a question.”
“The words came out slowly, haltingly, as if they had cost him a struggle. Nan had noticed before now that anger was too big a garment for him; it always hung on him in uneasy folds.”
“I've seen it before. Been here before. Played or managed here, six or seven times in six or seven years. Always a visitor, always away.”
“Men wanted to be strong. One way to be strong was to be knowledgeable. In so many areas, it was not possible to be knowledgeable without getting a Ph.D. and doing a postdoc. Guns and hunting provided an out for men who wanted to be know-it-alls but who couldn't afford to spend the first three decades of their lives getting up to speed on quantum mechanics or oncology.”
“All Americans have something lonely about them. I don't know what the reason might be, except maybe that they're all descended from immigrants.”
“When you’ve completed the book or article or at the end of a meeting, write down the three (or so) main points.”
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