He shrugged one shoulder. “Something tells me I’m not making it to class tonight.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not …”
“It’s not what?”
Another right turn angled us south, back toward the river and bridge. He gripped the steering wheel, seeming to debate his reply. “I was going to say it’s not your fault, but in a way, it is. It’s just not your fault on purpose, if that makes sense.”
“It does.”
It wasn’t as if I’d chosen Chalice’s body. But everything that I’d done since waking up in it—including taking my shit fest into the middle of Alex’s mundane life—was most definitely my fault. He was missing class. He was being chased by the Triads. Glass and blood and two men tied up with Lycra exercise pants decorated an apartment to which he couldn’t return.
“You’re right, Alex,” I said. “This is my fault. I want to tell you that when it’s over, your life will go back to normal, but I can’t. I can’t promise you anything.”
“Then how about we make a deal? I’ll help you to get Wyatt away from the people holding him and if, by some miracle, we manage to survive it, you two disappear. Just get out of the city and forget this thing about clearing your name.”
The pleading tone of his voice hurt, but it wasn’t a deal I could make. And it had little to do with my tarnished name.
“I’m sorry, Alex, but I can’t agree to that, and it’s not because I don’t want to now. I have two much bigger reasons why I can’t leave town, and foremost is the alliance. You cannot imagine how devastating a united uprising would be to humanity. If the goblins and the vampires go against us, other races will divide, and not everyone will be on our side. It would be like the United States standing alone in a world war against the entire eastern hemisphere. We would lose, and we would become no better than the domesticated animals we keep as pets and food and labor. Exposing this truce before it happens … I have to try. Do you understand?”
“I’m trying to,” he said after a prolonged silence. The Wharton Street Bridge loomed in the distance, gray and stark. “It’s a little difficult to accept the idea of goblins running around the city, much less warmongering with vampires.”
“I know it’s not as exciting as dissecting a cadaver for anatomy class, but bear with me.”
That elicited a tentative smile. “What’s the other reason? You said you had two.”
I considered asking him to pull over, not knowing how he’d react. And the last thing we needed was a fender bender. “Because I’m running on borrowed time. Resurrection is temporarily stable at the best of times, but it’s not permanent. I’m only borrowing Chalice. I had seventy-two hours from the moment I woke up yesterday afternoon at quarter after four. That’s all I get.”
He stopped behind an idling Honda. Opposing traffic flowed across the bridge while we waited to make a left turn. He shifted his upper body to face me more directly. I didn’t see the expected surprise—only sadness. “Why so short?”
“Like I said, the magic is unstable.” I chewed on my lower lip. “Anytime magic is used, it upsets the natural balance of things. Usually it’s self-correcting, but this is different. I died three days ago because I was meant to die. It was my time, no matter what Tovin said.”
“Who’s Tovin?” Alex asked.
I waved one hand in the air. “Never mind, because that’s not the point. It happened because it was supposed to happen, but when Wyatt brought me back, it upset the balance. Everything I do, everyone I interact with, is affected by my presence. There are consequences, and they compound with every extra hour I’m alive.”
“What sort of consequences?”
A car honked. The Honda had made its left. Alex hit the gas. We shot forward and barely managed our turn before the light changed back to red. Up onto the bridge, and toward the heart of downtown and Mercy’s Lot.
“What sort of consequences, Evy?”
“You, Alex. You should be busy planning a funeral right now, and while that’s depressing and terrible, it’s a far cry from being on a Triad hit list. You never would have been dragged into this if I’d stayed dead.”
“So what happens when your time limit is up? What happens at four o’clock, the day after tomorrow?”
“You get to bury Chalice. And I go back to being dead. Heaven or Hell or limbo, I don’t know, but I go back and the world turns without me.”
“Wyatt?”
A chill wormed down my spine. “He made a freewill deal with an Elder.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means that when I die again, Wyatt loses his free will to an elf named Tovin.”
“I still don’t—”
“In some ways, he’ll be no better than dead. Does that simplify it? Imagine losing your ability to make decisions; to take a piss without permission; to fucking love someone.”
Alex had paled considerably during my mini rant. “For how long?”
“Forever. There’s no statute of limitations on this particular brand of magic bargain.”
On the other side of the bridge, I directed him to go south. The background static, all but gone while in Parkside East, tickled the back of my mind. I concentrated on it, somehow comforted by its presence. Like an invisible security blanket.
We managed three more blocks before Alex spoke again. “You said you lost part of your memory, right?” he asked.
“The final three days of my life, yes.”
“Have you tried hypnosis?”
“Are you serious?”
“Chalice believed in it.”
“I’m not her.”
He flinched. I regretted the barb. I wasn’t Chalice, but I didn’t have to be insensitive to his suggestions. I believed that all manner of creatures roamed the earth and that we were on the brink of a species apocalypse, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe in something as small as hypnosis? Tragic.
“Have you ever seen it work?” I asked.
“At a carnival once.”
I snorted. “Not exactly a ringing endorsement.”
“What have you got to lose?”
“This isn’t a crystal ball psychic, right?” I asked. “Just a hypnotist?”
“Sure, yeah. How about your shrink?”
“My what?”
“Sorry, Chalice’s therapist. She was going to counseling for a while. She never told me what for, and I was too self-absorbed to ask, but the lithium prescription kind of gave it away.”
Depression. Yikes. But the shrink gave me an in that—
Shit. The gremlins. “I don’t think that will work.”
“Why not?”
I explained. He pulled his lips into a taut grimace. I patted his knee. “Sorry you asked?”
“A little bit, but even if there’s no record of her being a patient, the doctor will remember her.”
“Yeah, but we don’t have time to make an appointment. I’ve only got two days. I like the idea, but let’s table it for a while. I need to concentrate.”
“On Wyatt?”
Was I wearing a sign? “Yeah, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Evy. He’s important to you.” Jealousy dripped from his words. His brain still had a difficult time distinguishing me (Evy) from the body that I inhabited. The befuddlement tempted me to just ditch him at the next block, but that was a death sentence. As soon as Tully and Wormer were found, Alex Forrester would be a
