Page 27 of Grim Tidings

“Whose soul are you here to collect?” he asks again, leaning closer. “You owe me an explanation.”

Indignation creeps up the back of my spine and tightens at my neck. My magic has never been particularly reliable, but with Gabriel, it feels like it’s on a hair trigger. “I don’t owe you anything. This conversation is a courtesy.”

It’s also a waste of my time. But I’m starting to realize I have something he needs, and a new plan begins to form in the ashes of the old one. If he doesn’t want to play nice, that’s fine.

Nothing wrong with a little light blackmail.

He thinks the worst of you, so be the worst, I tell myself. Play the game. Get what you came for.

Only I know the details from my vision. Without them, he’s flying blind. He doesn’t know who to save if I don’t share my information, and there are simply too many people in this town for him to protect them all. I don’t need his help to save this soul, but I do need him occupied and out of my way.

I need to make myself invaluable. I need him to think he needs me. Not the other way around.

I straighten my spine. I channel the version of myself he clearly thinks I am. I let my face settle into a cold mask, an act of indifference that costs me. “If you want to know who to save,” I tell him, “you’re going to have to play a little game.”

“The lives of the mortals aren’t a game.”

“Aren’t they?” I cock my head to the side, widening my eyes. “Are they not just checkers on a board, destined to move where we tell them?”

His face tightens. “No. They’re not.”

“Hm.” I glance away, trying to hold on to the lie. If he wants to make me the villain, I’ll be the damned villain. “I suppose we’ll see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ll play your role, and I’ll play mine. Let the chips fall where they may.” I clamp my teeth around my straw and smile at him.

It’s a struggle for him to not bulldoze his way through this conversation and demand the answers he so desperately wants. I can tell. He’s practically vibrating on his side of the table, his jaw clenched so tight it could cut through glass. If only he believed me from the start, we wouldn’t need to bother with all this mess.

“What’s the game?” he grinds out.

Victory makes me lightheaded. Luckily, this part of the deception is easy enough. Because there is something I want. More than anything. I’ve wanted it since I was bound to a hospital bed beneath scratchy sheets, craning my neck to feel the sun from the window.

“While I’m here, I want to experience things. Life,” I say, trying hard to state it like a fact and not like it’s my most precious guarded wish. I’ve been keeping it tucked away in my chest, in the cavern where my heart used to be. “I have a list.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows jump, surprised. “A list?”

“Yes.”

“Of demands?”

“Of things I never got to do while I was alive.”

He’s still staring at me like I’ve pulled a rabbit from beneath my sweater and dropped it in the middle of the table. “Don’t you think we should focus on the more pressing item? Which is the untimely death of an innocent soul?”

“All mortals eventually die, Gabriel. Surely you don’t intend to save all of them.”

“That’s literally my job description.”

“Is it? I thought Guardians were supposed to be of service to the mortals.”

Blue eyes hold mine. “What greater service is there than making sure they stay alive?”

“All of them? Forever?”

He shifts in his seat. “Guardians don’t know which ones will make a difference.” He pauses, weighing his words carefully. He rubs the heel of his hand over his chest, and my eyes go back to those jagged scars. “Best to play it safe,” he says, mostly to himself.

I try to imagine that. The intricate web of humanity and fate and everything that hangs in the balance. Remove one thread, and the whole thing unravels. What a weight that must be on his shoulders. To always be watching and waiting for the first domino to fall.