Did Death just roll his eyes? And did it mirror the exact amount of attitude and exasperation that Willow has when she does it? Yes, and yes. Like father, like daughter.
Willow steps out of Death’s reach. “If I tell you, you can’t tell mom all the details, okay? She’s going to freak out.”
Willow is bargaining with Death. Is anyone else seeing this? I look back at Theodon and Viktor, who haven’t moved a muscle. They are both as white as a sheet as they watch the interaction.
She has a right to worry about you, Death reminds her.You may be a grown woman now, but she is still your mother.
“Yeah, but you know how she can be with some things.”
Death chuckles. His shoulders shake, and his mouth stretches open, but the sound doesn’t emerge. Not normally, anyway.
I do know,he confirms when he settles down.And I will do as I have always done. I will share what is necessary for her to know and nothing more.
“Alright, well, let me introduce you to everyone first before I tell you everything.” Willow turns to face me. Death follows her gaze.
I have a sinking suspicion he already knows exactly who I am.
“Dad, this is Kwil of Glenwig. Kwil, my dad.”
I fight against every instinct screaming for me to run, to slowly walk towards the two of them. I almost raise my hand to offer it to Death, but then I remember where my hand has been and think better of it. I give him a nod instead.
“A pleasure to meet my mate’s father.” I want to pat myself on the back when my voice doesn’t waver.
Willow’s eyes widen in surprise, but I ignore her to keep my eyes on her dad. Death smiles, but his eyes are scrutinizing my face closely.
Willow turns her attention to Theodon and Viktor. Death turns with her and stills.
Willow, why do all three of these men carry your soul with them?The question is spoken with an eerie lack of inflection.
The room grows closer still.
“Um, I’ll tell you in just a second,” Willow says quickly. For the first time since his arrival, she sounds nervous. “This is Theodon of Windom, and this is Viktor of Fowlmor. They are—”
She’s cut off by hurried footsteps coming down the stairs.
Jonah appears beside Viktor and gapes. Lifting a hand, he points to Willow’s father and shouts, “Holy shit, it’s Death!” He pauses only to take a deep breath before he asks, “Mr. Death, I’d like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
Chapter12
WILLOW
Okay, my dad isn’t happy. That much is clear.
Theo, Viktor, Kwil and Jonah have all taken a seat in the family room, where we’ve convened. The shock on their faces hasn’t lessened in the slightest. Their trembling hasn’t stopped either. It’s a normal reaction to fear Death. Even if I didn’t have to hide who I was, I’d still have to suppress my power becausethisis the reaction I’d get everywhere if I didn’t. But they’ve handled my dad’s presence much better than I thought they would.
The four of them remain silent while I explain what’s been going on. When I’m done talking, I cringe mentally. Now that I’ve said everything that’s happened out loud, it sounds bad. Like really bad. Having been right in the middle of everything that’s gone on, I knew I wasn’t in a great situation. But telling my dad about the trouble I’m in… Well, the murderous look on his face tells me that it’s a lot worse than I’ve been allowing myself to believe. I’m pretty sure the guys are seeing this, too. It’s in the way Theodon hasn’t stood up to try to take over the narrative, or why Viktor has kept his grumbling to himself.
You should have called me immediately instead of letting this spiral out of control!Dad’s rage stretches out across the room.
Jonah winces while the three ex-Ghosts flinch under the surge of power he lets out. The carpet has gone crunchy beneath my feet, and the two windows in this room are completely frosted over.
“I know, I know, but everything has been happening so fast and—”
And now not only do people know your secret, but there are also people after your power. This is just what your mother and I were worried about. We should have never given you a choice in the matter!Dad’s hands fly up in frustration.
Heat flares up in my cheeks as my temper begins to simmer in my gut.
“I’m taking care of it,” I grind out through clenched teeth.