If I Die

“Hell yeah. But I’d find it in Nash’s bed, not in Danica’s possibly skeleton-bearing closet.”

Sabine’s eyes widened. “You already tried, didn’t you?” When I didn’t answer, her smile grew. “Nash turned you down? Wow. That’s unexpected. And really satisfying…”

“He didn’t turn me down. We were interrupted,” I insisted, but as usual, she refused to rise above her own moment of triumph in the rivalry she’d decided we were in.

“And he didn’t want to pick up where you left off? Try not to read too much into that. It isn’t necessarily because you don’t know what you’re doing…”

My temper flared, and my jaw ached from being clenched. “Okay, look.” I leaned forward in the chair, capturing her gaze in spite of the discomfort of looking directly into the mara’s eyes. “I get that you want Nash. And as much as it kills me to admit this, you’re going to get a shot at him in a few days. I can make that easier for you. Or I can make it very, very hard.”

Sabine’s eyes narrowed and darkened, and suddenly the room felt colder. “Are you threatening me?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Kinda.”

Her brows rose. “I should be pissed off, but this is actually kind of funny.”

“I’m serious. If you don’t leave me and Nash alone for five more days, I will make it clear that I can’t possibly rest in peace knowing the two of you are together, and you really will be competing with a ghost. How’s that for a threat?”

She nodded solemnly. “Not bad, for a first attempt. So what do I get if I do let you…have him?”

“A truce. I agree not to stand in the way of your relationship with Nash once I’m gone, and you agree not to stand in the way of our relationship until then.”

“But I want him now.”

I shrugged. “And I want to live. Looks like the universe mixed up our wish lists. So what do you say? Truce now, and my blessing for the two of you, once I’m gone?” I’d thought saying that would make me want to rip my own hair out, but it was actually a bit of a relief. Because the truth was that after I was gone, Nash would need her. Resisting addiction wouldn’t be easy for him, coupled with grief, and she could help keep him straight.

Sabine blinked, and I could practically see the gears turning behind her dark, dark eyes. She knew what I was offering—Nash would let himself be happy with her if he didn’t think I’d object. “Fine,” she said finally. “But I think I’m getting the better end of this deal.”

The scary part was that I believed her. “Whatever. For now, I really need you to find out about Mr. Beck.”

Sabine’s gaze narrowed on me in sudden suspicion. “Are you sure you don’t have a more personal interest in this? I know you’re trying to lose the big V before you meet the big D, and since Nash isn’t sounding incredibly interested, you may be looking into some other options. And I have to respect your taste. Beck would be one yummy hunk of flesh, even if he didn’t have a fear in the world. But why don’t you try looking a little closer to home—”

“Ew, Sabine, I don’t want to sleep with Mr. Beck!” I couldn’t stop the shudder of revulsion crawling up my spine at the thought that he might be connected to what happened to Danica. “And Nash is interested.”

“But you haven’t done it yet…?”

“That’s none of your business.” I started backing toward the front door.

Sabine shrugged, and I wanted to smack the smug look off her face. “He’ll tell me all about it once you’re gone, and I can wait a few more days for that.”

“Do you even have a heart in there?” I demanded, one hand on the front doorknob.

“Not anymore. I gave it to Nash before he even met you.” She couldn’t quite hide a flash of true pain, but for once, I was unaffected by someone else’s suffering. Like she’d said, I’d be gone in a few days, and she could wait that long to pick over my corpse and claim what I’d left behind.

“Just find out what Mr. Beck is—without letting him know you’re not human. Can you find some reason to touch him and read his fears a little more in depth?” Thanks to the braided bracelets we both wore—woven strands of dissimulatus, to keep hellions from identifying us from the Netherworld—he’d never know either of our species unless we gave ourselves away.

“If you think he’s really screwing students, finding a reason to touch him will be the easy part.” Sabine leaned back on the couch, making no move to show me out.

“Yeah. For you, I guess it will be.”

Her brows rose again, in challenge. “You calling me a slut?”

“No.” I sighed, trying to push aside thoughts I really didn’t want to think. “I think you’re fanatically loyal to Nash, at least in your heart.” And when I was gone, that loyalty would probably be mutual.

“Sabine?” I said, and her focus narrowed on me, her attention as serious now as my tone of voice. “I know you’ll be there for him when I’m gone.” In more ways than I wanted to contemplate. “But don’t even think about touching him until I’m cold and in the ground.”

6

Sunday morning, I woke up alone. My dad had left a note on the fridge, telling me he’d be back for dinner. No explanation. But I knew what he was doing. He was looking for a way to save my life. I also knew that if he found one, he’d take it, no matter what it cost him, or anyone else.

What it cost me was obvious. Why did my father always seem to demonstrate his love for me through his own absence?

I ate a pint of Phish Food for breakfast—why worry about either calories or poor nutrition when I wouldn’t be there to suffer from either one?—then got showered and dressed on autopilot. After half an hour of flipping through TV shows I had no interest in, I picked up my phone to call Emma—then remembered that she was working. But before I could slide my cell back into my pocket, it started playing Nash’s dedicated ring tone.

I smiled and flipped the phone open.

“Hey,” Nash said into my ear, his voice deep and gruff, like he’d just woken up. “You busy?”

“Got nothin’ scheduled till sometime Thursday. Why? What’cha got in mind?”

Bedsprings groaned, and Nash’s voice got louder. “Lady’s choice. Lunch? Movie? Hell, skydiving? You name it, and I’ll do it.”

I hesitated for one heart-thudding moment. “My dad’s out. I could use some company….”

Silence, but for a single exhalation over the line. “Seriously?” he asked. But we both knew what I was really saying. “You sure you’re ready?”

“Yeah.” No. But I’d run out of time to get ready. “Bring protection.” ’Cause I sure didn’t have any.

“Give me half an hour.”

I closed my phone and slid it into my pocket, suddenly so nervous I couldn’t even breathe properly. Every breath seemed to come too early or too late, like I was alternately suffocating and hyperventilating.

Was that normal?

Feeling clueless and stupid, I squelched the urge to call Emma for advice—she wouldn’t have her phone behind the counter at work anyway—then stood and stared around my living room like I’d never seen it before. I felt like I should do something to…prepare. But damned if I knew what.

To distract myself from the endless list of things I suddenly realized I didn’t know about sex—not the science stuff, the real stuff; stuff I’d never really contemplated, but that now seemed vital—I made my bed. Then brushed my teeth. Then changed out of my boring cotton underwear for a pair of slightly less boring cotton underwear, silently cursing the embarrassment that had kept me from buying actual grown-up clothes when Emma had dragged me into Victoria’s Secret a couple of months earlier.

When none of that helped, I glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. T-minus nine minutes, and counting. It would take five just to boot up my laptop. So I sat on the couch and pulled out my phone. Then did the unthinkable.