She was too late. 

Of. Fucking. [i]Course[/i] she was too late, because for once, she'd decided to try and make a goddamned [i]friend[/i], so [i]everything[/i], the entire fucking [i]universe[/i] was going to conspire against her and make sure that one person who'd been unlucky enough to say a single worthwhile thing to the teenage Reaper, ever, in whatever the hell was left of her fucked up life, would be sure to come out on the other side of things [i]hating[/i] her. 

Daisy had been too late to save Thad, too late to get him back. And now? Now she was too late to save Veti. Because try as she might, she liked Veti. [i]A lot[/i]. And of course she couldn't win. So, Veti had to die. 

Of course. Of. Fucking. [i]Course[/i].

If Daisy had been the type to cry, or do something equally pointless and stupid, she might have. As it were, she wasn't even sure she [i]could[/i] cry, let alone do anything normal people were supposed to do. Blush or burn or laugh or love, that other useless bullshit everyone was always going on about. She felt another inexplicable surge of loathing toward the wight as she stood there at the far edge of the scene, maybe dripping wet, from the rain, or the Thames, or Death or something else. She couldn't look at him. She was afraid she might try and hurt him, and this was obviously not the time, but then she couldn't look at Veti, either, or to where Thad knelt over her, mourning her slow and painful death. 

So, she watched the shade gate, every part of her itching to follow Veti's killer through, except Tiny Vamp had already done that. 

Because of course she had. Tiny Vamp had been on time. Tiny Vamp had been right, had been fucking [i]perfect[/i], and still it wasn't enough to...

Behind her, Artie was growling, deep and low in his chest. She could feel him pressed up against her shoulder, still three times larger than any dog should be. She felt anger and concern rolling off of him like water, but she ignored it. She wouldn't look back at him, either. She didn't care what he was trying to tell her. She wouldn't want to hear it. Probably something stupid. Some correction, how she should have been faster, how she should have stayed away from those fucking exploding werewolves -- or maybe just all werewolves -- in the first place, and then Veti might have been okay. How she should stay here, not go through the shade gate, vengeance wouldn't solve shit, and blah blah blah, all good, useless advice, because what did it matter?

She'd hesitated, just a second. And Veti had died. She hadn't seen it, no. She couldn't watch that, not again. But she'd felt it. She'd gotten close seen Veti step up to the shade gate -- seen the other wolf, seen the silver blade, looked away...

And felt a life snuff out. 

From there, Daisy didn't even think. She was exhausted from the Reaping on the Thames, so cold she might have sworn her teeth were chattering, if she were alive. But she didn't care. Fuck if Veti was dead, Daisy was already breaking all the rules, anyway. 

She stepped back through into Death's chill waters just as Artie realized what she was doing and snapped at her. His teeth closed around a column of cold air. 

Daisy was gone.