What was buried beneath the statement was an uncomfortable truth: Mary was dying. Her illness was spreading fast and there was no stopping what was coming. Even though Cormack was disgusted by his parents’ actions, the woman was still his mother. He would feel her loss keenly, although he would bury those feelings for the sake of his children.
“I understand.” Cormack flashed a wan smile. “I’m actually glad he’s here. I have a few questions for him.”
“Of course, sir. Go right back.”
“Thank you.” Cormack led me down the small hallway that led to the master bedroom. Given Mary’s former stature — her husband had made it to the top of the reaper council — she was afforded every luxury during her incarceration. He paused in front of the door, rapped once to let the doctor know he was about to receive visitors, and then pushed inside.
It had been almost a week since I’d last seen Mary, and her transformation was shocking. She’d aged a good ten years over a few days. Her hair looked brittle and sparse, her skin was a sallow yellow color, and her eyes were dull and lifeless.
“Hello, Cormack,” offered the man standing at Mary’s side, her wrist in his hand as he checked her pulse.
“Hello, Stanley.” Cormack put his hand to my back to prod me forward. “Izzy Sage, this is Stanley Applewood. He’s been with the council for a good thirty years now.”
I smiled in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you, too.” Stanley’s face was impassive as he looked me up and down. “I would almost think you were one of Cormack’s brood — you have the hair — but the eyes are wrong.”
“Izzy runs the gate,” Cormack offered.
Recognition washed over Stanley’s features. “Oh, right.” He bobbed his head. “You’re Braden’s girlfriend.”
Although technically true, the statement rankled. “I run the gate.”
Cormack’s lips quirked but he didn’t comment on my response. Instead, he pointed his attention toward Mary. “And how are you today, Mother?”
Mary’s expression was sour. “I don’t believe I’m talking to you. While we’re at it, I’m not talking to any of your offspring either. I find all of you absolutely disgusting and without loyalty.”
“That’s rich coming from the woman who was going to sacrifice her own family,” Cormack noted.
“No, I was trying to save myself,” Mary shot back. “Last time I checked, that’s allowed. In fact, self-preservation is one of the things that’s expected. Just because you can’t see that, it doesn’t mean I have to apologize.”
“I don’t expect you to apologize, Mother.” Cormack folded his arms across his chest and regarded the woman who had given him life. I wondered what he was thinking. Did she look small to him? She looked tiny to me. Her personality, and the damage she’d wrought on her family, would leave a lasting legacy. “I wanted you to know that the gate went back into operation today,” he said finally.
Mary snapped up her chin, a glint forming in her eyes. “Were you there when it happened?”
“I was.”
She licked her cracked lips. “Did he come back?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“He did not. Something else came through the gate, though. A revenant.”
Mary’s patchy eyebrows hopped. “Really? Where did it go? Did it kill anyone?”
Cormack’s eyebrows drew together. “No. I’m curious why you would ask that.”
“No reason.” Mary plucked at the blanket covering her legs. “Are you sending someone over to retrieve your father?”
“That’s not the plan.”
Annoyance — as well as a bit of anguish — cascaded across Mary’s sagging features. “So you’re just going to abandon him over there, are you? What a wonderful son we raised.”
“He made his choices.” Cormack refused to back down. “You’ve made yours, too. As for the revenant, it’s gone. It was destroyed within thirty seconds of crossing over.”
Disgust replaced the earlier annoyance and Mary made a loud huffing noise. “Well, I suppose you’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t kill it. I’m glad it’s dead, though.”
“I’m sure you are.” Mary straightened, although it looked as if it took a great deal of effort. “What do you want from me? I have nothing to offer you.”
“I want to know what the revenants have planned.”
“And how do you think I can help you?”
“You were working with them.”
“It’s not that easy,” Mary countered. “We had an alliance, yes, but we weren’t working together. They had their goals and we had ours. We weren’t partners.”
“You still have an idea of what they plan to do. I would like you to share that information.”
“You’d like me to share that information, would you?” Mary made a cackling sound that reminded me of every evil witch in a Disney cartoon. “Well, I want you to retrieve your father. That’s what I want. If you think you’re going to get information from me, there needs to be a trade.”
“I’m not going over there to get him.” Cormack was firm. “The odds of him surviving are slim. On top of that, crossing over is dangerous. I won’t risk innocent people to save a turncoat.”
“Then you’ll get no information from me.” Mary refused to look her son in the eye.
I risked a glance at Cormack, worried I would find sadness there, but he looked more disgusted than anything else. “Have it your way.” He focused on Stanley. “What can you tell me?”
Stanley gave Mary a sidelong look, sucked in a breath, and then shook his head. “The cancer is ravaging her. She won’t survive much longer. I don’t know that I can do anything for her. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Cormack clapped him on the shoulder. “She did this to herself. It seems karma is coming for her, too. It’s not your job to get in the way.”
“I’m still sorry. She’s your mother.”
“She gave birth to me,” Cormack corrected. “She never did the things a mother is supposed to do. She’s
