“It’s a strategy book,” I explained. “Well-regarded as one of the best. Mainly talks about how you want to lull your opposing armies into a false sense of security. Someone in this house is reading it often, if the state of the book is any indication.”
“Doesn’t sound like my type of thing.”
“Read it anyway.”
He rolled his eyes, but I saw how he glanced down at the book and fiddled with the string bookmark as if he’d done so plenty of times before. I’d be willing to bet he was the one who’d read it, and he was lying to me right now. I was realizing Bennett was dangerous. More so than anyone else in this house.
Which is why I almost groaned out loud when he sat down on the couch in the library instead of taking his book literally anywhere else. “I didn’t mean in here. I thought you had unfinished business with Waylon? You can read while basking in the afterglow.”
“If you think we trust you alone in a room filled with valuables, Veronica, you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
And for a second, I’d forgotten I was Veronica. Of course they weren’t leaving me alone. This fake persona was proving to be a pain in the ass, but it would be worth the effort if I made it through the day alive.
As it turned out, maintaining the lie wasn’t worth it.
Bennett and I read in tense, slightly companionable silence for hours until there was a pinch at my ankle, and my body slumped over into unconsciousness.
Chapter 9
Afterawhile,everythingstarted to blur together.
I tried to keep track of how many times I’d died, but when a tally would disappear in the next rewind, I only got to a certain point. To this point, I would say I’d woken up in the bathtub eleven times. Maybe twelve. Over a week’s worth of time, and nearing two.
And what had I found so far?
Zero, zip, zilch, and nada.
All I had was the number, and no idea of what it pointed to. I’d entertained the idea of it being an MSBO #, house address, or some kind of cipher. Heck, I’d gone and done as much research as possible on fishing and areas in the Earan region where it was common. Nothing was making sense, and mentally I felt like I hadn’t slept.
Most of the time, I made it to Saturday evening before dying. Sometimes I managed a full night’s sleep before dying first thing in the morning. My body was rewound to have the same neck crick and tingling legs every morning, but my brain didn’t have the same courtesy. I was really goddamn tired.
Methods of my death varied. The pinch of a bug bite or needle was a common one, as was a sharp object through the chest or stomach. Once, I’d gotten a dagger to the head. I had no idea who was killing me, though my original suspicion had been Abraxas, since I’d died in the library multiple times in the beginning. He also had the tail, which I couldn’t always see the end of.
Either way, when I woke up again to find Zan above me after being stabbed in the heart, I wanted to roll over and go right the fuck back to sleep.
OK, maybe not in the bathtub.
If I’d known this was going to happen, I would have pushed aside my fear the first night and slept on the living room couch.
“Oh no, I wonder if she’s alright…” Zan’s voice spoke softly from above me.
After redoing this scenario so many times, my brain was stifling my physical reactions to the ghost. He’d never harmed me, and I barely saw him. All he did was worry about me in this brief moment in the morning.
“Not dead yet,” I mumbled, opening my eyes.
He jumped back, startled by my sudden movement.
I sat up in the tub and pushed myself back to the far edge, but I didn’t leap up to hide in the corner anymore. Keeping my eyes on him, I waved him off. “Ghosts make me uncomfortable. Please leave.”
As he had every time before, he did as I asked and floated out through the door. I still held onto a twinge of guilt for brushing him off when he was so sweet. This progress was better than I’d ever hoped for, though. I didn’t scream or jump unless he appeared unexpectedly. My heart didn’t threaten to burst from overwhelming fear. Occasionally the memory of my attack would flit through my mind, but the presence wasn’t all-consuming.
Unintentional exposure therapy worked for dispelling my fear.
Of him, anyway. I doubted I would have a similar reaction to any other ghost. Zan wasn’t vengeful or angry with his lot in life, but plenty still were. Ghosts had a reputation worthy of my phobia of them.
Getting dressed fast, I pulled open the bathroom door to find Kirin, as usual. “Good morning,” I said, stepping around him and walking into the living room.
He followed me in confusion. A typical reaction when I practically ignored him. “Where are you going, princess?” he asked.
