“Taylor will never accept me like this,” Remy whispered, but he wasn’t really talking to us, his voice distant and introspective. “What am I supposed to do now?”
The body he was wearing was petite and I had to slouch to get down to eye level with him. I would have liked to reassure him that Taylor would love him regardless of what body he wore, but I could only imagine the shock his high school sweetheart would experience when she learned her football-star boyfriend was now her girlfriend. Maybe, under different circumstances, she could have learned to accept the changes, but she was never going to get the chance. This body was already dead. There was really only one thing he could do.
“You help us find the necromancer who did this to you so we can stop him from doing it to anyone else.”
“But that doesn’t help me. I was saving for a ring . . .” There was so much pain in his voice, it broke my heart even though his shade had already given away that particular secret.
“No, it doesn’t directly help you, but it can give you closure. And revenge.”
Revenge tended to be a great motivator. An empty, soul-destroying motivator that rarely left the one seeking it satisfied, but it certainly inspired action.
Remy’s eyes narrowed, his gaze snapping into focus. “What can I do?”
Briar stepped closer, dropping her look-away spell. “What did he have you steal, and where are you taking it?”
Chapter 22
“No way,” Remy said, shaking his head. “I’m not going back there. My real body is already dead. I’m not risking this one by leading you to the guy who killed me.”
We’d moved our conversation to a narrow table in the far corner of the room, hoping we didn’t attract the attention of the guards again now that we were farther from the books. Remy had handed over his bag to me, and the book was still inside, but I wasn’t sure what to do with it.
“I thought you said you wanted revenge?” Briar said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I want to live more. Even if it will be”—he glanced down—“a very odd adjustment.”
Briar and Falin both glanced at me, Briar thrusting her chin slightly, one eyebrow raised in a clear demand. I could guess for what. I sighed.
“That’s not really an option,” I said, trying to keep my voice gentle because if I’d devastated him before, I was truly about to shatter him now.
“Why, because I stole some old book? It hasn’t even left the library yet, so not stolen. You’ve got nothing on me.”
“That’s not it. The body you’re in right now. It’s already dead.”
“You’re crazy,” he said, staring at me. He looked to Falin and Briar, waiting for them to refute my statement. Briar gave him what I supposed was meant to be a sympathetic look but mostly just made her look constipated. Falin offered him a solemn nod. Remy shook his head violently. “You’re all absolutely crazy.”
How were you supposed to convince someone they were dead? I’d had to clue in the occasional ghost, but the whole not-having-a-body-anymore thing helped. Remy was up walking and talking, even if he wasn’t in his own body.
“You’re dealing with a very stressful time right now. How fast is your pulse racing?” I asked him.
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” He stood as he yelled the question, his hands balled in fists at his sides.
“Just check, okay?”
He gave me a disgusted look. Then, determined to prove his living status, he lifted two fingers to his throat and pressed them where his pulse point should be. He waited, concern etching around his eyes. He moved his fingers over just slightly. Then again, and again. He lifted his wrist, searching there. Then he shoved a hand down his shirt, pressing it against where his heart should have been pounding. If he were alive.
The horror in his face was absolute. Frantic eyes begging me that it couldn’t be true. But I couldn’t take it back, couldn’t rescind the information now that he’d acknowledged it. So I had to continue.
“You probably didn’t notice, but you aren’t breathing either.”
“That’s not true. I have to breathe to talk,” he said, drawing an intentionally large breath.
“True. So don’t say anything, just hold your breath until you get the urge to breathe.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and did a little twist with his shoulders, marking the seconds with his body movements. After nearly a minute the smug movements began to slow down. Another minute, and he sank back into his chair, looking freshly stunned.
“You don’t blink either,” Briar added. “It’s freaky.”
I shot her a glance over where Remy had just buried his head under his arms on the table. He was breathing now, fast and jagged, like he was close to a panic attack. I doubted he could actually have a panic attack without a beating heart, but his mind was still reeling, so I gave him a minute. Eventually he sat up. He wiped at his eyes, but they were dry. Apparently he couldn’t cry either, not even for his own death.
“So, what does that mean for me? Is this body going to rot around me?”
“Not initially,” I said, and here was where I could get into some trouble with the collectors, but he deserved to know. “Your soul is what is powering that body. The longer you are in it, the weaker you will get, until the you that is looking out through those borrowed eyes, that remembers you are Remy, will cease to exist.” Or at least, that was what I’d gathered from my conversation with Death.
“Oh, great.” He laughed, the sound harsh, verging on despair. “So what are my options here? I’m dead so I can’t die again, but what am I if I don’t have this body?”
“A ghost, if you stay. Or you let one of the soul collectors send you on.”
“Send me where?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but to answer your options question, you have the option to stay as you are, existing in this half-life for a few days, maybe weeks, or you can avoid destroying your soul by not draining away your energy to fuel a dead body.”
“Those options are crap.”
I couldn’t disagree with that.
“Before Craft goes and talks you out of your body,” Briar said, leaning forward, “we still need to catch the necromancer who did this. Our best bet is catching him when you give him the book.”
“Well, it sounds like I’ve got nothing to lose,” he said, his shoulders slumping, as if he could sag into himself. He sighed, taking a deep breath, and looked up at me. “We better hurry, I’m supposed to meet him in fifteen minutes.”
? ? ?
We were considerably farther than fifteen minutes from where Remy was supposed to drop off the stolen book. He’d driven to the library in a car that had belonged to the girl whose body he wore, so Briar went with Remy while Falin and I followed. It was a considerably better seating arrangement than the drive to the library.