dates stamped on them at birth—much like food in the grocery store. It was the reapers’ job to enforce that expiration date, then collect the dead person’s soul and take it to be recycled.
As far as I knew, the only way to extend a person’s life was to exchange his or her death date for someone else’s, to keep life and death in balance. So if we saved Addison Page’s life—which, as bean sidhes , Nash and I could technically do—someone else would have to die in her place, and that someone could be anyone. Me or Nash, or some random, nearby stranger.
As much as I wanted to help both Tod and Addison, I was not willing to pay that price, nor would I ask someone else to.
Tod blinked at me, and while his scowl remained in place, his sad eyes revealed the truth. “I know.” He sighed, and his broad shoulders fell with the movement. “But I haven’t actually seen the list yet, so I’m not going to worry about that right now. What I am going to do is try to talk her out of suicide. But I need help. Please, guys.” His gaze trailed from me to Nash, then back.
Nash frowned and leaned against the wall beside the door again, striking the I-cannot-be-moved posture I recognized from several of our own past arguments. “Tod, you’re the one who says it’s dangerous for bean sidhes to mess in reaper business.”
“And that knowing when they’re going to die only makes a human’s last days miserable,” I added, perversely pleased by the chance to throw his own words back at him.
Tod shrugged. “I know, but this is different.”
“Why?” Nash demanded, his gaze going hard as he glared at Tod. “Because this time it’s an ex? One you’ve obviously never gotten over…”
Anger flashed across the reaper’s face, mirroring his brother’s, but beneath it lay a foundation of pain and vulnerability even he could not hide. “This is different because she sold her soul, Nash. You know what that means.”
Nash’s eyes closed for a moment, and he inhaled deeply. When he met Tod’s gaze again, his held more sympathy than anger. “That was her choice.”
“She didn’t know what she was getting into! She couldn’t have!” the reaper shouted, and I was floored by the depth of his anger and frustration. I’d never seen him put so much raw emotion on display.
“What was she getting into?” I glanced from brother to brother and crossed my own arms, waiting for an answer. I hate always being the clueless one.
Finally Nash sighed and turned his attention to me. “She sold her soul to a hellion, but he won’t have full use of it until she dies. When she does, her soul is his for eternity. Forever. He can do whatever he wants with it, but since hellions feed on pain and chaos, he’ll probably torture Addison’s soul—and thus what remains of Addison—until the end of time. Or the end of the Netherworld. Whichever comes first.”
My stomach churned around the dinner we’d grabbed before the concert, threatening to send the burger back up. “Is that what happened to the souls Aunt Val traded to Belphegore?” Nash nodded grimly, and horror drew my hands into cold, damp fists. “But that’s not fair. Those girlsdid nothing wrong, and now their souls are going to be tortured for all of eternity.”
“That’s why soul-poaching is illegal.” Tod’s voice was soft with sympathy and heavy with grief.
“Is selling your soul illegal, too?” A spark of hope zinged through me. Maybe Addison could get her soul back on a technicality!
But the reaper shook his head. “Souls can’t be stolen from the living. They can only be given away or sold by the owner, or poached after death, once they’re released from the body. There’s a huge market for human souls in the Netherworld, and what Addy did was perfectly legal. But she had no idea what she was getting into. She couldn’t have.”
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t decide whether I was more horrified for those four innocent souls or for my