Oh, God. What had she done in the name of revenge? “I kept him alive just long enough to offer up his organs for transplant. One of those organs was a heart. I know what I did was something Vincent would’ve hated, but he had to, in some way, redeem himself for the shit he’d thrown down. He killed another human being, Clyde. Gary may have been a cheat, but he didn’t deserve to die for it. He was just a kid. I was just a kid. There was no way to make that right, so I did the next best thing—I gave every viable organ to someone who’d hopefully use them for good. And that’s when Satan showed up. Right there in Vincent’s ICU room when we were saying our last good-byes.”
“If I wasn’t lost before, I really am now. Why would Satan show up for something as inconsequential as some organs and a soul collection? He could’ve sent any one of his freaks in Hell to do that for him. In fact, he rarely if ever shows up. It’s not like he cared about Vincent, Delaney. Satan doesn’t have friends, he has pawns. Vincent was a pawn, and his time was done. Satan essentially won because I’m betting my own soul, Vincent went to Hell. So Satan got what he wanted—a soul.”
That one fact had troubled her for as long as she could remember. “I’m as lost as you are on that. I only know this—whatever Vincent had was important enough for Satan to threaten me if I signed those papers. Vincent was already dead—if he had a soul, it was long gone from his body and probably well on its way to Hell. If that’s what the devil wanted all along, if Vincent had really sold his soul to him, he’d won hands down. Vincent committed murder—he had no place to go but down. Why his eyes or his kidneys or his heart meant something to Lucifer, I still don’t know.”
“How did he prove to you he was who he said he was?”
Delaney snorted. “The usual. Horns, fire breathing, snakes, blah-blah-blah. At the time, I think I almost lost my bladder. Nowadays, it’s like watching reruns of Happy Days. Not nearly as exciting or dramatic as it is the first time around, ya know?”
“I don’t think I want to know. So next I’m assuming he threatened you?”
“Yup, and Kellen, too. He said he’d see me in Hell for signing that organ transplant document and having Vincent’s body shipped off before he could get to it. What was worse was his threat to Kellen or anyone who came into my life from there on out . . .”
Clyde blew out a breath of pent-up air. “Which explains a shitload about how little you interact with the living.”
Her shoulders lifted. “I was always afraid someone would end up hurt like Gary did. I was terrified Lucifer would send one of his lackeys in to hurt Kellen, but at least my brother knew what to be careful of—how aware he had to be that true evil exists. How do you explain the grim reality of the supernatural to a new girlfriend who isn’t a demon—or to a possible date? I mean, I did try to get out and date. I told you that. But after a couple of failed attempts despite Satan’s warning, the ghost talking only added weight to what was already a sinking ship. So I stopped trying. But I was successful in donating Vincent’s organs—I decided that was enough compensation.”
Clyde’s eyebrows rose. “And let me guess—when you donated them, you did something completely Delaney-ish, like you stuck your tongue out at Lucifer and said, ‘See this, asshole? Nyah, nyah, nyah.’ ”
Her smile was grim, but her nod was one of affirmation. “Nuh-uh. Though you did get the asshole part right. I said, ‘The fuck I won’t, asshole.’ Oh, and neener, neener, neener. Not nyah, nyah, nyah.”
He smirked. “Just as endearing as ever.”
“Something good had to come out of that night, Clyde, and I was going to be fucked and feathered if I’d let all those good organs go to waste if they could give someone else life. A worthy life. A good life.”
His finger traced the slope of her nose. “Hey, I’m with you one hundred percent. I don’t know if I would have had the balls to do what you did, but I hear what you’re preaching. So as his only living relatives, please tell me you got his money.”
Her laugh was filled with bitterness for what that money could have done had they been in Vincent’s will. He’d been smart enough to name Delaney on his DNR, yet keep them from having the help they’d needed for her mother. “No. No money. I would have had my hands severed before I took it even if we had. The only thing I would have definitely done was had my mother properly taken care of until she died. He owed her. The rest I would have given to some humane society or something. But Vincent left it to a political party.”
Clyde’s nod was of understanding, his eyes sympathetic. “And that’s why you quit school? To work to pay for your mother’s care?”
“That and the crazy shit that began to happen.”
“The ghost thing?”
That first time had been killa. “Yeah. They were, like, everywhere. In my sociology classes, when I was in the dorm shower, in a lecture. Before I understood it, and what these spirits wanted from me, I really, really struggled. I went through the whole post-traumatic deal. Then I thought I was just nuttier than squirrel shit. At first it scared the bejesus out of me, then it drove me batshit for a time, and with that, my grades suffered—friendships were lost. I spent all my time at the library researching ghosts and mediums and Hell.”
“So you weren’t born with the ability to see ghosts? All this time I just assumed that was the case.”
“No, it happened after Vincent’s death. About two or three weeks or so after.”