If I Die

But when I glanced up, I realized that the padlocks hadn’t bled through from the human world. Did that mean the supplies weren’t there, either?

Conscious of the clock ticking steadily in my head, I raced across the room and threw open the first cabinet —then grinned like a fool at the full shelves.

I pulled on a pair of thick neoprene gloves from the third shelf, then pawed through a series of Bunsen burners and test tubes before stumbling upon a basket full of scissors on the far right. I grabbed the biggest pair I could find, then tugged a pair of goggles into place over my eyes, just in case. Then I ran, my sneakers silent on the linoleum. I was several feet from the hallway intersection when a familiar voice spoke from a classroom to the left, and I froze in terror.

“I believe this is the second such gift you’ve brought me,” Avari said, and tiny icicles formed in my veins. “One might think you were paying tribute. Or trying to appeal to my mercy.”

“Can’t appeal to what doesn’t exist,” a second voice said, and my chill bumps sprouted chill bumps. Tod. No wonder he hadn’t answered my text; cell phones don’t work in the Netherworld.

“Mmm,” Avari said, as I tiptoed toward the hallway juncture. “You are not quite as foolish as you appear.”

“What’s that, the evil version of a compliment?” Tod said, and even though I couldn’t see him, I could picture the sarcastic lift of one eyebrow, based on nothing but his tone of voice. “Are we buddies now?”

Avari made an unpleasant noise in the back of his throat. “I retract my last statement.”

“Whatever. Just…take him, so I can get out of here.”

“This isn’t what you offered, and I don’t yet have what you asked for.”

“This is worth more than I offered, and I no longer need what I asked for. Which means you’re getting the better end of the deal. And you should do whatever you’re going to do before he wakes up, or you’ll never be able to keep him here.”

What the hell were they talking about? Who had Tod brought to Avari? Why would he make a deal with the hellion who’d made it his life’s goal to possess me, body and soul?

I stood in the middle of the hallway junction, exposed and vulnerable from four different directions, should anyone step out of a classroom. And I probably looked like an idiot in lab gloves and goggles, carrying a giant pair of scissors. But I couldn’t decide which way to turn. I could go right, and cross over to watch out for Emma. Or I could go left, and sneak a peek at whoever Tod had delivered into the third room on the right.

I’d be safer in the math classroom, and Emma would be safer with me there. But I couldn’t quite escape the brutal curiosity pulling me to the left—did this have something to do with me?—even though my exchanged expiration date meant nothing in the Netherworld. Here, I could die anytime, by any means. Or I could suffer eternity at Avari’s hands instead, and wish for death until the end of time.

I knew I was making a mistake, even as I turned left and took those first steps, rolling my feet for a silent approach, glad I’d worn sneakers instead of clunky flats.

“You don’t want him? Fine,” Tod said, when Avari made no reply. “I know a couple other hellions who will appreciate the value you’re passing up.”

“Leave him,” Avari said at last. “But I offer nothing in exchange, other than the safe passage you’ve already negotiated for yourself. It has not escaped my notice that I am doing you a service by taking him. But indulge my curiosity for one moment before you go,” Avari said, as I peeked cautiously into the first open doorway, careful to avoid the tendrils of Creeper vine curling around the door frame. The desks and chairs inside were stacked in a bizarre, complicated arrangement, like a pyramid of Cirque du Soleil gymnasts about to topple, but the room itself was blessedly empty. “How does this benefit our lovely Addison?” the hellion continued. “You’ve neglected to negotiate for time with her, and it’s much too late now….”

“This has nothing to do with Addy,” Tod snapped, and the pain in his voice echoed deep within my own chest.

“Some imbecilic human sage once said that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and though I must confess to absolute incomprehension of the very concept of ‘heart’ it appears to me that you fall under a contradictory philosophy. With Addison out of your sight, she is clearly also out of your mind. Which is fitting, because since you last saw her, she’s been mostly out of her own mind, as well…”

Don’t listen to him, Tod, I thought, as I crept past the second door, now only feet from the room where they both stood, along with whoever Tod had dragged into the Netherworld. True or not, he’s only saying it so he can feed from your suffering. If I’d learned anything since discovering my nonhuman heritage, it was that pain of any kind was the currency of choice in the Netherworld.

“There’s nothing else I can do for Addy,” Tod said, an angry undercurrent threaded through his voice now. “You’ve made sure of that.”

“And you’ve moved on quite readily. I know precisely what bringing me this tribute does for Ms. Cavanaugh, and by extension, what it does for you.”

I froze at the sound of my name, less than a foot from the open doorway. My heart beat frantically, and I was afraid to breathe for fear of missing the next words spoken.

“What do you care, so long as you’re well fed?”

Avari actually laughed. “I will be better fed from your pain when you understand how futile this noble deed is. You know this won’t change anything, don’t you, reaper? This won’t even delay the inevitable. Your heroic gesture is rendered completely useless by the irony of poor timing and inexorable fate. She will die—right on time—without ever knowing about your failed attempt to save her.”

My heart leapt so high I could practically taste it on the back of my tongue.

I dared a long, silent inhalation to keep from passing out, but that didn’t stop the building from spinning around me. Confusion, anticipation and a strange plummeting feeling deep in my stomach kept me off balance, my very existence hinging on whatever words would come next.

And when Tod finally spoke, I realized my world might never stop spinning at all.

“This isn’t about saving her,” he said, his voice strong and steady, even though he was powerless in the Netherworld. “I know my limitations. This is so that bastard can’t ever put his hands on her again. So her last moments won’t be spent in terror. This is about making damn sure his face won’t be the last thing she ever sees.”

He? I took that last step forward, pulse roaring like the ocean in my ears, heedless of the danger for one moment as desperate, blinding curiosity overwhelmed every need I’d ever felt. Tod stood in the middle of the bare floor, facing the half of the room I couldn’t see. And when I saw what lay at the reaper’s feet, still waiting to be claimed by the hellion, understanding clicked into place in my head, like someone had thrown the breaker in my skull.

Thane. Unconscious and crumpled like a feed sack on the floor, one eye swollen and black above the massive blue bruise his cheek had become.

But even with that new information, I still had no real answers to the questions I couldn’t even properly form through the haze of gratitude and amazement now swirling around me like the Nether-fog. Tod had found Thane, knocked him out, dragged him into the Netherworld and given him to Avari to dispose of. Or maybe to feed from.

All to make my last days as peaceful as possible. Was he even going to tell me?

Tod crossed his arms over a plain white T-shirt. “Just bind him, or lock him up, or do whatever it is you do to keep people here.” Because reapers could cross over anytime they wanted. “I’m done with you both.” Tod shoved Thane with his foot, and the unconscious reaper rolled onto his back, revealing another dark bruise on the right side of his face, disappearing beneath his hairline.

I stifled a gasp, but Tod must have seen my hand fly to my mouth in his peripheral vision, because he looked at me, then immediately returned his attention to the half of the room I couldn’t see.

For one long, terrifying moment, I was afraid Avari had seen his glance into the hall and figured out what it meant. I stepped away from the doorway, and when no one emerged to rip me limb from limb, I let myself breathe again. A little.

“Our business is concluded,” Avari said, and Thane’s feet—all I could still see of him—slid across the floor and out of sight. “Unless you’re willing to present my offer to Ms. Cavanaugh. One century of life in the Nether,