“That’s completely beside the point.”
“Not to me.”
“Damn you,” he whispered.
Then with the people swirling past us, he drew me into his arms and rubbed his cheek against the top of my head. “Don’t you get how this works? I was supposed to save you.”
“Says who? The favors were mine to use on whatever I want most. And, Kian … I need you with me.”
“Just when I think I can’t love you more—”
“You … love me?”
“God, yes. I’m in so deep … and now, you have no use for me. You’re still in the game, what do you need with an awkward, human boyfriend?”
“I’m human, too,” I reminded him. “And … I’d do anything for you. I just did, in fact. In case you haven’t figured it out … I love you, too.”
“But I’m a liability, Edie. The ones in the game can’t touch me, but immortals are devious. They could contract with noncombatants like the Harbinger, and now that they know I’m your Achilles’ heel—”
“So I’ll buckle on some ass-kicking boots—”
Kian cupped the nape of my neck and leaned in. His lips brushed mine, once, twice, then he nuzzled a path over my jaw to my ear. Rush of warm breath, and he kissed the side of my throat. Not what I expected, better, because it was tender as a rosebud yet not too much for the people surging around us. Gazing up at him, I swallowed hard.
“Wow.”
“You said something about my place?”
“Yeah.”
He slid his hands down my arms and turned our wrists to look at the matched set of marks. “I don’t know what’s coming, but I’ll be there with you.”
“That’s all I could ask.”
“You’re a miracle,” he said softly.
“Einstein said something like there are two ways to live: as if nothing is a miracle or as if everything is. And the fact that I’m alive? That’s the miracle. If I’ve helped you at all, it’s only because you saved me first.”
Kian cradled my face in his hands. “Whenever I’m ready to give up, there you are, hauling me to my feet.” I opened my mouth but he said it for me. “I know. We’ll be okay. As long as we’re still breathing, there’s hope.”
I didn’t kid myself it was over. Dwyer & Fell would challenge my place in the timeline—try to derail me while Wedderburn plotted, schemed, and protected his queen. At the end of next semester, I could end up indentured … or worse. The thin man was still out there, along with the old man with the sack, the black-eyed children, the clown executioner, and doubtless other monsters that I hadn’t encountered yet. Like Kian, I’d burned all my favors too fast and it might come back to haunt me.
At the moment, I didn’t care. I smiled as another Einstein saying sprang to mind—my new credo. You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play better than anyone else.
So I will.
As I followed Kian toward the station, snow sprinkled down, a dusting of white courtesy of Wedderburn, letting me know I wasn’t beyond his touch. Kian’s hand was warm wrapped around mine, his wrist naked without the watch that had been his master. A chill wind skated over me; I turned, staring up at the glass and steel monstrosity where the bitter-cold god hid from the modern world, like so many other ancient, terrible things.
And I whispered, “Game on.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I’ve always been fascinated with anthropological phenomenon, how certain divine archetypes permeate civilizations in wildly diverse geographic regions. Humans have been inventing similar stories to explain the natural world for eons. Urban legends intrigue me in the same way—tales repeated mouth to ear, winging through phones and forums, until people are convinced that a young couple has really been murdered in the woods by a man with a hook for a hand and that you can, in fact, summon things in a darkened mirror. Fear is a visceral emotion, impossible to banish from modern life. At the heart of us, we are still primitive creatures warding off evil with flaming brands.
Which brought me to this idea: Imagine a world where, if enough people believe in them, the nightmares come true. The delicious awfulness of it worked on me until I had to combine all of these factors and write it as Mortal Danger. I had a blast researching various mythologies and creating new characters based on old legends, like Wedderburn. I’m sure you’re all wondering about the Harbinger, who you’ll learn more about in the sequel. I also trolled the Internet, mining for gold, and that’s where I found Slenderman. The thin man is my version, given life by everyone who read stories and repeated them as if they were real. I found so many creepy things that they wouldn’t all fit in one book, so there are many shocks and gasps yet to come. The Immortal Game is messy and convoluted, full of monsters and magic, science and sacrifice. I hope you enjoy it as much I do, though the stakes are terrifyingly high and no one is safe.
In some ways, this is a deeply personal book. Confession: I have walked in Edie’s shoes as a weird and awkward outcast myself. I, too, have stood on that emotional ledge and wondered if anyone would care if I checked out. Many of her thoughts were mine first, and despair should never be taken lightly. Please understand that suicide is not an ending to pain, it only creates more. If you’re feeling this way, please seek help. If there’s nobody in your life to talk to, there are people who will listen: suicidepreventionlifeline.org. I muddled through alone, but it’s not the best option, and I want better for all of you. Dear readers, whatever you’re going through, it’s not your fault, and time can mend it, if you fight on. The sadness passes, even when you think there’s no hope. But you have to be fierce; don’t let anyone take away your inner light. You are important. You matter. And if you quit before you’ve begun, the world will be lesser for it. I’m glad I didn’t let the bullies win. I’m glad I’m still here, writing stories for all of you. Thank you for reading them.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Laura Bradford, who lets me lead with my heart. I can be impulsive, but she never tries to turn me away from whatever direction I’m running in. That’s why we work so well together, because I need that freedom, or else I lose the joy.
Next, I must express my utmost appreciation for my amazing editor, Liz Szabla, for not asking me to pull my punches. Sometimes my books hurt, but they’re supposed to. She’s also great at making sure the complicated worlds in my head translate clearly for readers on the page. I love everyone at Feiwel and Friends; the whole team does an amazing job from cover art to interior design, marketing, sales, and event planning. Jon, Jean, Rich, Elizabeth, Anna, Molly, Mary, Courtney, Allison, Kathryn, Ksenia, Ashley, Dave, Nicole … there are more incredible people pushing me toward greater success and I’d like to hug each and every one of them. Your work makes mine possible, so thank you so much.
Kudos to my lovely copyeditor, Anne Heausler, and my proofreader, Fedora Chen. Because of their talents, my books are beautifully polished, a feat I could never achieve on my own. Thank you both!
Now I roll out the star-studded list of those who helped with Mortal Danger, encouraged me, or answered questions: Rachel Caine, Lish McBride, Donna J. Herren, Leigh Bardugo, Bree Bridges, Yasmine Galenorn, Marie Rutkoski, Lauren Dane, Robin LaFevers, Megan Hart, and Vivian Arend. There’s also the two invaluable writer loops that keep me sane, and I can’t forget Karen Alderman and Majda Čolak, my two beta readers. You’ve all contributed to my success, and I adore you for it.