wouldn't be able to fight. He confided in me, bared his shortcomings, and the only way I could see to deal with his weakness was to take the job from him, and the only way that I could do that was via a Schism and the Negotiation. Do you know what it is like to not just lose the ones that you love, but to deliberately take them away? It eats you out like a cancer. But what choice did I have?
'Ask yourself what Morrigan might have seen coming, what fears drove his decisions. I dare say it was more complicated than just a lust for power. You know us, we're not all bad, we went into this knowingly and passionately and with a desire to change the world.' Suzanne lowers her gaze. 'You know history, the violence that made each of us Death. But don't you ever fool yourself into thinking you can understand us.'
'You're murderers, one and all,' I say.
Suzanne nods. 'Oh, yes, we are. And all of us suffer for it. This job is our punishment as much as it is our prize. This business and the Hungry Death inside us, it's horrible isn't it? I pity you, sometimes, Steven, that you don't even have the comfort of your passion to protect you. Oh, how that must hurt, and there is no one to share it with. This job isn't about giving up everything for your love, it's about giving up your love, for everything.'
'And where does that leave you?'
'I didn't say it was the right choice, but it was the choice we made. I'm not expecting sympathy, or even understanding. Just acceptance. This is what we have done. All of us suffer, that is the only thing that truly links humanity. We exist, and I truly believe this, to reduce the quantity of suffering in the world even if it means we must bleed ourselves.'
I couldn't look at her. Love and family, even in the face of suffering, are the most important things to me. The only things I had left to believe in. And maybe that is being selfish. I know it's selfish. How can I be an RM if I can't give them up?
She grips my hand. 'Oh, Steven. There's so much you still don't understand. I pity you. The lessons of your time are far crueller than anyone could expect.'
'Don't pity me,' I say, and I've never seen her look so amused.
She grabs my face, jerks my head towards hers, and kisses me hungrily. Her lips are as cold as mine, her heart as silent and stealthy as the one in my chest. For a moment I am intoxicated.
Yes, it would be easier. She would understand me in ways that Lissa can't hope to. We could have this forever.
But the thought lasts only for a moment. I pull away, wipe my mouth with my sleeve. Bloody hell, what was I thinking?
'No,' I say.
Then I hear the intake of breath. Recognise the new heartbeat in the room.
'What are you doing here?' Lissa's eyes are wide with hurt, but they're ready to ignite into anger. All it needs is someone as unsubtle – or cruel – as Suzanne to set it off. Or someone as stupid as me.
My cheeks are burning. It's not as if I did anything wrong… Other than lie to her. Just how did that happen again?
'I'm surprised he didn't tell you,' Suzanne says. 'I made him an offer he couldn't refuse, and well…' She looks at me slyly, 'He didn't refuse it.'
'You bitch!' Lissa snarls. 'You can't keep out of my family's business, can you?'
'Business is business, Lissa. Nothing more. What happened between your father and me… I understand why you might blame me. But -'
'I don't blame you.' Lissa's right hand clenches into a fist. 'Oh, hang on a minute, yes, I do.'
'That's enough.' I raise my hands in the air, step between the two of them. 'It's all just a -' And Lissa's fist connects with my jaw. She looks from me to Suzanne and back again. I'm not sure who she meant to hit. I don't think she is, either.
'You bastard,' she says – that's definitely aimed at me. 'You had to go and do this.'
And she's out of that room before I can open my mouth.
I rub my jaw, spin on Suzanne. 'You set me up! You arranged for her to come home!'
Suzanne's face hardens. 'You didn't see this coming?'
'No, I didn't.'
'Why the hell did you flirt with me?'
My face is burning. 'I never -'
'You did. The coat, the lingering looks.'
'I thought I was just playing your game.' And then rage explodes inside me. 'Piss off, now. GO!'
'I'll let you get away with that, but only because I feel a certain element of sympathy. Particularly with what lies ahead. But you will never talk to me like that again.' Suzanne shifts away.
I'm left in the empty room. I run to the hallway. Lissa's nowhere to be seen. Out onto the verandah, and then onto the street. Heat slaps me in the face nearly as hard as Lissa's right hook.
I don't mind the pain. I deserve it.
Where the hell is Lissa? I close my eyes, feel her heartbeat. She's back in the kitchen. I run to her.
'You lie to me about not meeting her, about not accepting her offer, and then you're kissing.' She wipes at her eyes. 'If you want to be with one of them, I can understand that. They're your people now. But to try and keep us going, while – oh, Jesus, Steven. I never thought you'd be such a prick.'
'Yeah, I'm a prick. I won't argue with you. I'm an absolute arsehole.'
'Agreeing with me isn't helping your case.'
'But I love you.'
'Did you take up her offer?'
'Yes, but I had no choice.'
'You could have chosen to tell me about it,' Lissa says. 'You could have told me everything. I'm a grown-up. You could have trusted me with this.'
'There's no lies between us,' I say, which is technically a lie. Why do I keep digging myself deeper and deeper holes?
'Just half-truths.' Lissa shakes her head. 'So, Steven, you got your ten extra Pomps. But you lost one as well. I'm not going to take this. Not now. I'm leaving.'
'OK,' I say, because I don't know what else to say. I'm sick with shock. 'But I love you.'
'Maybe you think you do. But this isn't love. These lies aren't love.' She steps towards me. Her heart is racing at 130 bpm, and then it slows, shifts down to eighty. 'Now, you know what you need to do?'
'No.'
'Do I have to spell it out for you? I'm resigning.'
'But -'
'If you don't do this I'll hate you forever.'
'We need you. Mortmax needs you.'
'Don't you dare play that card. You'll do all right. You have her help, after all.'
'I don't want her help.'
'It didn't look like it when I walked in.'
'Lissa -'
'Just do it!'
I look into her eyes, and she holds my gaze. I reach over and she grabs my hands. It was such an easy gesture once, but now so awkward. My hands shake. She's closed to me, but then she opens up, and I can feel her anger as a visceral thing, a burning agony. It shocks me, even though I was expecting it.
I don't want to do this. It's too painful. I'd let go but she's holding my hands so tightly that my fingers hurt.
I draw the energy back from her, the bit of me that makes pomping possible. I unpick it from her essence. I've never had to do this before, and maybe I couldn't if Suzanne hadn't taught me. It's as easy as opening a door. But what it reveals… Here, I can see how I have wounded her. How stupid I was. We're both crying by the time it's done. My lip quivers. 'I'm so sorry.'
'So am I,' Lissa says. She pushes past me, heading into the bedroom. 'Don't follow me!'
A few minutes later, she's back in the kitchen with a bag bulging with her clothes. She drops it, and a black skirt and blouse tumble free. She glowers, kicks her bag away in frustration. She's no longer a Pomp. She's no
