It creeped me out to know that Avari was wandering around the Netherworld version of my house—a field of razor wheat—with nothing separating us except for the world barrier. Was he trying to possess me again? He couldn’t take over my body while I was conscious, which is why Styx’s job—half guard dog, half security alarm—was so important. And that was also why I was under orders to wake my dad up if Styx so much as growled in her sleep.

I crawled out from under the covers and stretched to reach her fur, stroking her in reward for a job well done on my way out of bed.

“Well, look who’s all grown up.”

I jumped at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, then sat up slowly, skin crawling as I reached for my bedside lamp. It wasn’t Avari. It couldn’t be—unless he’d possessed someone else and broken into my house.

Shit, shit, shit! I flipped the lamp switch and every dark silhouette in my room was thrown into full color, the sudden light blinding me for one long moment. I blinked rapidly, fighting off panic as I waited for my vision to adjust, but when it did, it brought no answers—only more questions.

A man sat in my desk chair, watching me silently, arms crossed over the front of a white button-up shirt. His dark eyes glittered with some perverse version of anticipation or amusement, as if he knew me and was waiting for a familiar reaction. But I’d never even seen him before—I would have remembered that face. Smooth and young, with a strong chin and wide forehead. If I’d seen him at a party, I would have watched him—or watched Emma fawn over him. But in my room, in the middle of the night…?

“Get out.” I slid off the mattress on the opposite side, and squatted to pull an aluminum baseball bat—one of Nash’s spares—from beneath the bed. I was no stranger to late-night unwanted company.

“Do you even know who I am?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Unscheduled visitors rarely brought good news—just ask Jacob Marley. “Get out now, or I’ll yell for my dad.”

The stranger settled farther into my chair, getting comfortable. “How is your dad?” he asked, still watching me eagerly, like he’d rather read my thoughts than hear me speak. “I haven’t seen him in, what? Thirteen years?”

No, no, no… I shook my head, but I couldn’t deny the swift understanding and terror colliding within me. “Thane?” I whispered, suddenly cold all over.

He was early.

“No. You can’t be here yet.” I glanced into the hall and started to yell for my dad—until I remembered what Tod had said. If my dad got in Thane’s way, Thane would kill him. That would give us proof enough to get Thane fired, but my dad would still be dead.

Instead of shouting, I backed slowly away from the bed, tightening my grip on the bat, for all the good it would do. I could handle this myself. “I still have four days, and you’re notgonna—”

“Relax.” Thane smiled, and no matter how pretty he was, I couldn’t shake the certainty that kittens everywhere were suddenly screeching in pain from the mockery of joy that had just settled onto his face. “I just thought we should formally meet, since I’m going to be the last thing you ever see.”

I took a deep breath, trying desperately to focus on the fact that he hadn’t come to kill me—yet—instead of on the fact that he’d come at all. “Do you always show up early to taunt your victims?”

“You’re not a victim, you’re an assignment,” Thane said, watching as I made myself climb back onto the bed and lay the bat at my side on the comforter, as if I wasn’t terrified and in shock. “Do you always act like having a reaper in your bedroom is a matter of course?”

Show no fear.

I shrugged and tucked my legs beneath me, glad I’d slept in pajama bottoms. “I know interesting people.”

“Of course. Because you’re a bean sidhe, right?” the reaper said, as if he’d just remembered. “And that makes me one very lucky worker bee. The average reaper will go his entire afterlife without ever encountering a nonhuman soul, and here I’ve got the opportunity to reap yours for a second time. It doesn’t get much better than this…” Thane rolled the chair close enough that his knees touched my mattress, still eyeing me boldly, studying me. “Except for reaping your mother.”

My hand flew before my brain caught up with it. A second later, my palm throbbed, and an angry red patch marred his smooth, stubbleless cheek.

Thane threw his head back and laughed, and I glanced at the door, hoping my father would sleep through the whole thing. Hoping Thane was audible—and inexplicably corporeal—only to me.

“Well, aren’t you fun!” he said, raising one hand to his cheek. “Who would have guessed that the toddler who once died without a whimper would grow into such a hellcat!” He leaned closer, and I held my breath. “It’s almost a shame I have to extinguish such a bright flame, but it’s true what they say about life being unfair. Death, however, is the great equalizer. Death comes to everyone, eventually, and you have the honor of meeting him twice.” Thane leaned back in my chair and recrossed his arms. “Lucky, lucky girl…”

“Get out.” I picked up the bat again, thrilled to find fury overwhelming my fear. “Get the hell out of my room and don’t come back.”

“Or what? You’ll sic your father on me?” He raised both brows in silent challenge, and I wanted to hit him again. With the bat this time. “He’s a sad, desperate man, with the potential to become a real thorn in my side. But you have to respect his determination to save his daughter. Too bad it’s not going to work.”