"Bast . . ."

Caught between bracing herself and trying to relax, Claire missed Bast's hand plunging into her chest, but she certainly felt it coming out. Ow! was a bit of an understatement. The cat-headed G.o.ddess frowned slightly as she crossed to the scale and Claire began to have a bad feeling about how this was going to turn out.

Of course her heart was heavy. She was a Keeper. She was responsible for the metaphysical protection of a good chunk of southeastern Ontario and upstate New York. And then there was the guest house and Diana, and being away from the segue, and dragging Lance around the Otherworlds, and not even knowing there were Otherworlds until she found herself plunged into the middle of them. Or maybe it. And she'd left Dean alone to face a reanimated mummy. Sure, Austin was with him, but he wasn't supposed to be, and what had she been thinking dragging a seventeen-year-old cat into an evil shopping mall anyway?

"Well. This is ... interesting." All three G.o.ds were staring at the scales. The bowl holding the feather was brushing the floor. The bowl holding her heart was an arm's length above Osiris' head.

"Is this happening because I'm a Keeper?" Claire hazarded.

"No. This is happening because this isn't your heart."

She glanced down at her chest and up at the bowl. "Pardon?"

"It appears you have given your heart to another. This heart is his."

Dean stared down into Claire's face for a long moment before his mouth finally curved into a worried smile. "Got my heart?"

She laid a hand lightly against her chest. "Right here. Got mine."

He mirrored the motion. "Safe and sound."

"A most unusual young man."

He'd lived next to a hole to h.e.l.l for six months and it hadn't even convinced him to drop his underwear on the floor.

"He is, yes."

The Lord of Death dragged Dean's heart down to where Bast could reach it. "You realize you're getting off on a technicality."

"Yes, I do." The return was painless. It was a pity Lance was still out; Claire had a feeling things couldn't get much more metaphorical than this.

HEY! THIS ISN'T FAIR!.

Osiris shot an exasperated look toward the shadow. "Death seldom is."

SHE CHEATED!.

"No one cheats death in the end."

WHAT, I'M SUPPOSED TO EAT PLAt.i.tUDES NOW?.

"If you like."

And you can choke on them, Claire thought as Lance's eyelids started to flutter. Dropping to one knee beside him, she shook his shoulder. "Come on, big guy. We're leaving."

"Going home?"

"Not right away. I've got some shopping to do first."

"I like shopping."

"Great. Hold that thought."

It took Anubis and Bast helping to get him to his feet. He swayed slightly and blinked at Anubis. "Hey, who's a good OW!"

Violence against Bystanders was permitted only in circ.u.mstances where it saved said Bystander, or Bystanders, from a greater violence. Claire figured calling Anubis a "good doggie" was definitely in the greater violence category.

"You pinched me!"

"Yes, I did."

"Okay, then. How did we do?" he asked, rubbing one cheek.

"Neither of you were found wanting," Osiris answered. He stepped forward, and Claire wasn't surprised to find the three of them suddenly standing in front of the huge golden doors. Only now the doors were a standard height.

"Hey! We grew!"

Okay. That worked, too.

"Dr. Rebik?" The cleaned and ironed chinos hanging over his arm, Dean knocked on the door to room two. "Dr. Rebik, your pants are ready."

"Maybe they're having a nooner."

Dean turned to stare at Austin in disbelief.

The cat shrugged. "Why not? They're young and in love . . . oh, wait, my mistake, he's having his life sucked out and she's a reanimated corpse."

"And it's twenty after ten." He knocked again.

"I find it disturbing that you're more concerned with the time than the corpse."

"I find it disturbing that you know what a nooner is." About to knock a third time, he lowered his hand as the door opened and Dr. Rebik slipped out into the hall. Dean caught a quick glimpse of Meryat lying on the bed, wrapped arms crossed over her breast, then Dr. Rebik pulled the door closed.

One hand clutching the waistband of a pair of borrowed sweatpants, he stared up at Dean through bloodshot eyes as if unsure of who he was speaking to. "Yes?"

Dean held out the chinos.

"Ah. Yes." Comprehension dawned slowly. "You were washing them for me." His hand trembled slightly as he reclaimed his clothing.

"You all right, Dr. Rebik? You're looking some poorly."

"Some poorly?" The archaeologist managed a tired smile. "It's the waiting. It's hard on Meryat."

"Looks like it's hard on you."

"We are as one in this."

"Okay. Sure." Frowning slightly, Dean watched as Dr. Rebik slipped back into his room. Meryat hadn't moved. If he didn't know better, he'd have to say she looked dead. As he stepped away from the door, he noticed a worn, brown leather wallet lying on the floor.