Page 65 of Find My Way Down to You

“Exactly! So what would you like to know?”

I blurt the first thing that comes to mind: “Tell me more about the Deathless.”

“So vague.” He points violently toward the article still open on my phone screen. At the top is an art piece of ancient deitiesand monsters. Something Max would love. “We’re nothing likethat.”

“Okay. Then what?”

“The basics? We’re immortal, powerful, gorgeous”—he pauses to wink—“and we all have a role in mortals’ journey to the next realm. Trust me, it’s very boring. And there are so many of us.”

I sit taller. “There are?”

“Yes,” Henri says, sighing.

“Are you born a Deathless?”

“No. We are chosen.” He pushes a lock of raven black hair behind his ear. “But some are born from other Deathless. The rest…come from elsewhere.”

“Where?”

The questions keep bubbling up my throat. Fortunately, Henri doesn’t appear as annoyed as Cary does after each one.

“Elsewhere,” he says again, this time with a quiet chuckle.

“Which Deathless?”

“Did you have someonespecificin mind?”

My cheeks catch fire. I consider lying. It’s the only way to keep my plan a secret.

“Tell me, August”—Henri’s mouth quirks high—“which Deathless do you really want to know more about?”

His question is a challenge dressed in his charismatic grin, a flare of dimples.

Milos’s name weighs heavy on my tongue. Aminta’s isn’tfar behind, even though I know she’s not a Deathless.

Instead, I say, “Cary.”

A genuine smile unfurls on Henri’s lips. Glee sets like jewels in his eyes. He rubs his chin, pretending to think. “Oh, our sweet, sullen ferrier.”

A beat passes. Overhead, the music shifts to something I don’t recognize.

“He is…complex.”

“In what ways?” I inquire, a little too eager. I clear my throat, attempting to look more nonchalant.

Henri’s gaze lowers back to my phone. “You won’t find any truth about him on there. Out of all of us, he’s the one your kind gets wrong the most.”

“How so?” I ask.

There’s another moment of silence. Henri’s mouth twists, considering. “Okay, he certainly has that all-black, super-cryptic, not-very-talkative vibe going for him. The grim reaper energy is strong in that one.”

The beginnings of a laugh scratch at my throat.

With a thoughtful head tilt, Henri adds, “But his role is very different from the rest of ours. He doesn’t spend much time with mortals.”

This time, I let out a loud snort.

Henri shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand you.”