"I could never hate you," I said earnestly. "What is it? Just tel me." I turned and sat cross-legged across from him. He took a long, deep breath. "I am immortal because I am not human, as I've told you. I live as long as the reapers because I am one, El ie."
I couldn't speak for the longest time. "You're one of them?" My lips went numb as I asked a question that seemed so unreal. Shock fel on me like heavy snow, and I froze. The blood drained from my head as Ivar's ghastly face flashed across my mind. Wil couldn't be anything like her. It wasn't possible. "I don't understand."
His expression col apsed. "No, I am not one of them. Please don't think of me as evil, because I'm not like that."
I said nothing for several moments to let it sink in. "You're a reaper." Though I said it aloud, the statement stil didn't seem real to me.
"Please don't lose your trust in me because I didn't tel you before. You knew this the day you met me and you know this now. I'm an angelic reaper, but I am also your Guardian. Your Guardians have always been angelic reapers."
"Then you're the good kind," I said, desperate to anchor myself before I freaked out. "Is Nathaniel like you? Is that how he's immortal too?"
"Yes."
I nodded once, slowly, taking it al in. "So that's how you're able to see the reapers. Is that why you're so strong?"
"Yes," he said. "This is why I have survived this long. You're mortal, El ie. My body can take more damage than yours can. We're nearly indestructible and your body is human, frailer, but you have the power of angelfire, and we don't."
I thought about that for a moment. What he said made sense. My human body was a weakness. But what was his weakness? What could kil him? "Can angelfire kil you?"
"No. Demonfire can kil me or leave scars, but the Enochian protection spel that you tattooed on my arm protects me from that and binds me to you."
"Were you ever wounded by demonfire before you got the tattoos?"
"No, but I know others who have been," he said, "and a wel -placed hit to my heart or decapitation can kil me just as easily. I'm not that different from you. Please don't say you hate me. I wanted you to remember it on your own. I don't want you to be afraid of me. You have no reason to fear me."
"I don't hate you and I'm not afraid of you," I said gently, but for a moment, I wasn't so sure about the fear part. "If you're a reaper, then why would you kil your own kind?"
"The demonic reapers kil humans to build Lucifer's army in Hel . They are preparing for apocalyptic war, and we have to do everything we can to prevent that."
"But if you serve the angels, why can't the demonic reapers do the same? Why can't they be good like you?"
He took in a breath. "I was born angelic and the demonic are born the way they are. The demonic don't understand the value of human life and as a result don't respect it. No reapers--demonic or angelic--have ever been mortal, so we've never had to feel ourselves aging, growing weaker, being forced to accept death as something that's inevitable instead of just possible. We only get stronger with time. Because of this, many of us are forever childish and impulsive. With creatures as powerful as al reapers are, that translates into violence and often cruelty. I do know a few of the angelic who are dangerous because of that, but we are taught to cherish human life from birth, because it's fragile and so important. The demonic don't care. From birth they are rewarded for violence. To them the only value in human life is food and a soul to reap."
"Does this al just come down to human souls?"
"Not exactly," he said. "The demonic are reaping souls for Lucifer's army. If that army gets big enough, the Second War against Heaven wil occur. The 'End of Days' Ragnuk mentioned, which I told you about before. That's it. The Apocalypse. Lucifer's army is already countless times more vast than it was original y. If the legions of Hel and Heaven were to clash again, the Earth and the human race wouldn't survive."
Silence fel between us as I weighed his words. "This is bigger than just me and you, isn't it?"
He nodded. "But we're right here on the front lines. You're our best hope to prevent this from happening. That's why you're here. To protect the human world and Heaven. We, the angelic reapers, are here to serve you and defend you against the demonic."
I studied the fervor in his gaze. "So you're born, and not made what you are?"
He nodded. "Correct. We grow up like normal humans, but as we get older, we age more and more slowly, until we just stop aging altogether. We reach maturity in our late teens or early twenties and time sort of stops for us."
I eyed him nervously. "Do you . . . eat people too?"
He gave a soft laugh and shook his head. "No. The angelic don't eat humans. We eat normal food. I like cheeseburgers."
"Not peopleburgers?" For a moment I wondered about the truth behind Manwiches.
"Of course not."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "So you grew up like a normal boy?" I asked, trying to understand. "Where are you from?"
"I was born in Scotland. My mother was English, but that's where she was staying at the time. The year was 1392. There's not real y much to tel about how I grew up."
I tried to imagine Wil speaking with an accent as hot as James McAvoy's, and it was almost enough to distract me from the seriousness of our conversation. "How can you say that? People who've done nothing at al in ten years can talk for hours about themselves. I can't get more than a sentence out of you."
"Wel , we met in London at the beginning of the sixteenth century. I was at court just after the young Henry XVI I took the throne, and I was hunting demonic reapers who'd been impersonating nobles."
I couldn't stand how grim he seemed, and al I wanted him to do was smile. "Okay, now I want you to say al of that again, only in your old accent."
He laughed and I felt so much better. "What? No, I can't. It's been a long time. It's not natural for me anymore."
"I'm sure if you tried . . ."
"I've learned so many languages over the last few centuries that they al sort of blend together after a while."
"But tel me something about your life from back then. I want to know more about you."
He let out a tired breath. "What's there to tel ? The food was horrible and our clothes were too thick and hot in the summer. Humans died a lot. People got sick. Every few decades a plague claimed tens of thousands of lives. It wasn't real y a fun time."
I hadn't thought about that. "Yuck."
"Yeah. You learn about it in school, but they don't exactly have color photos from those days in your textbooks." His look was very serious. "Be thankful."
I made a face. "Okay, stop tel ing me depressing stuff from back then."
"You lived then, too. And long before. It's not like you missed out."
"I'l tel you what I am thankful for. My amnesia has conveniently erased any memories of the Black Plague. God truly works in mysterious ways."
His laugh was soft again and his gaze fel . That quiet pensiveness returned to his eyes. "That He does."
"But I don't want you to tel me about general things from the fourteenth century that I can find in any history book." I looked down at the chain of the crucifix tucked into his shirt.
"Tel me about your mom."
He hesitated before answering, and the patch of silence made me feel guilty for probing him.
"What do you want to know?" He spoke slowly, his words forced.
I was very sure he wasn't keen on divulging the secrets of his childhood, but maybe it would help him to talk about his mother. "What was she like?"
"An angelic vir like myself. Female reapers can have a child only once or twice every century, so births are rare occurrences. Whether a vir is angelic or demonic is determined by the mother's heritage."
"Is your mother stil alive?"
"I don't think so. I haven't seen her since I was young."
"I'm sorry," I said.
"It's al right. I've had a long time to accept it. I barely remember her face. It happened when I was so young."
/> If his mother's death didn't bother him much, then he wouldn't stil wear the cross she'd given him, and I'd never seen him without it. "What was her name?"
"Madeleine."
I repeated her name in my head. I tried to put a face to her name, and I imagined she had Wil 's rich dark chocolate hair and emerald eyes. She must have been as beautiful as he was. "Why do you think she's dead?"
"I left home when I got foolish and decided to hunt the demonic. I went home a decade or so after I'd left, and she was gone. Nathaniel took me in. He's always been like a big brother to me. Anyway, there hasn't been a trace of her since. It's likely she was kil ed by another reaper."
That struck me deeply. I imagined coming home one day to find my mom gone forever, and I couldn't take it. My eyes grew hot and tight. "I'm so sorry."
"It's fine, real y. I've had a long time to get over it. A lot of people I've loved have died over the centuries. That's just the world we live in. It's dark and gritty and dangerous."
"Do you know your father?"
He shook his head. "No. I don't know anything at al about him. My mother never talked about him. I think she loved him, but she wasn't proud of it, or something like that. I don't think their relationship lasted very long."
I leaned back on my hands and stared at nothing. Emotions stirred deep within me--mostly uncertainty and a little bit of fear--as I tried to focus my thoughts. Wil was a good reaper who fought alongside me against the bad reapers. If the only thing that made him good was his heritage, then what was enough to make him go bad? What real y was the difference between Wil and the reapers I hunted? Was there a chance for the demonic reapers to redeem themselves? Was there a chance they could live alongside humans peaceful y? The car-size Ursids and Lupines probably wouldn't be easily accepted into society--I doubted anyone would want to adopt one from the pound--
but was it possible for them to coexist without kil ing people and dragging their souls to Hel ?
He reached forward to cup my cheek, the touch surprising me. "Please understand that no matter what I am or what has happened in the past, I am yours. I am devoted to you above al else, including my own life."
I exhaled after holding my breath for what felt like forever.
"That's pretty heavy, Wil ."
His expression was impassioned, and the backs of his fingers brushed the side of my neck. "It is a burden I am glad to carry."
He held his hand there for another moment before he pul ed back and looked away. I felt an urge to reach for him but suppressed it. His face was so vulnerable then, and I realized how much I cared about him. I could only remember meeting him recently, but I also knew he'd been my friend for centuries. That was something I couldn't remember, but I felt it in my bones. My eyes may have been unused to his face, but my soul knew him better than it knew anything else in the world.
When our gazes met again, I noticed the slightest flicker of brightness in that terrifying green before the color dul ed again. The flash was so quick, I had to blink, but it did not return.
"I'l leave now," he said, and stood up, pul ing away from me.
I wanted to jump forward and tug him back to me, but I didn't. "See you tomorrow?"
"Of course," he offered, smiling. "I'l let you enjoy your day with Kate until it's time for the party. You'l see me then."
"Okay," I said. "Good night. Thank you for saving my life tonight."
"You saved mine, too. You were bril iant."
"Thanks." My cheeks grew hot.
"You're coming back to me." He smiled widely--that excruciatingly beautiful smile--and then he was gone. UNCORRECTED E-PROOF--NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Children's Books
..................................................................... 19
AS THE WEEKS WORE ON INTO OCTOBER, WE HEARD very little from the dark side. Bastian's thugs were lying low, but al that did was make me worry about what they might be up to. My car was beyond repair, but I was real y happy to get a replacement almost identical to the one I had lost. I decided to name him Marshmal ow I in honor of Ragnuk's victim. The colder the weather got, the more I found myself lying and keeping things from the people I loved. I snuck in and out of my house through the back door easily, but it was hard seeing my mom's face every night and leading her to believe that I was only going to bed. I felt like I was missing out on a great deal with my friends, since I was bailing on our weekend plans more often than ever. I was worried I'd lose them for good. I wished I could just be honest with everyone and go about my life as I normal y had, but it wasn't like the world was going to wait for me to learn how to be a superhero. I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand it al , especial y since I lied to the faces of my parents and friends every day.
Two weeks before Hal oween, Kate, Rachel, and I were in a costume shop trying on various outfits. The boys, of course, planned to wear hideous or vulgar costumes. Wil , I suspected, was going as himself. He could be scary enough. With a bloody sword and a little bit of glow to his already electric green eyes, he'd have even the toughest UFC fighter shaking in his spandex.
The party we were al attending was Josie Newport's annual Hal oween bash. It was true that we weren't good friends or anything, but since we had al been in seventh grade together, it was understood that my group always came to her Hal oween party--and I was so pumped.
"Try this on," Kate ordered as she shoved a nurse costume in my face.
I scowled at it. "That might exceed my skank limit."
"You'l look hot in it with your gorgeous hair," she said.
"Now try it on."
Grudgingly, I took it from her and stood in line at the dressing room. Rachel was stil inside trying on a witch costume. Kate had chosen a very revealing devil outfit that was mostly a red minidress and hooker boots.
"You're so bossy," I told Kate.
She grinned and adjusted the glittery devil-horns headband in her hair. "You like it. Anytime you want, I'l bust out my whip and furry handcuffs. Only for you, boo."
I rol ed my eyes. "Oh baby, oh baby."
Final y Rachel emerged. The pink and blue in her costume looked real y cute with her brown hair, even if the hat was too big on her and sat a bit low. She smiled sweetly and gave a little turn to show off the outfit. The skirt was a tad long and she had had to pul the white petticoat underneath lower over her hips so it couldn't be seen.
"What do you think?" she asked shyly.
"You're so pretty," I said.
Kate reached forward, picked Rachel's hair up off her shoulders and twisted it into an updo, then tugged the fluffy sleeves down so that more skin showed. Kate stepped back to admire her handiwork. "Huge improvement. Get this costume and wear your hair up. Evan wil love it."
"Think so?" Rachel looked down and smoothed out her skirt.
"Definitely," I offered. "He won't be able to keep his hands off you."
Kate shoved me toward the dressing room. "Now it's your turn. If you're a sexy nurse, then Will won't be able to keep his hands off you."
"That is not what I'm going for!" I closed the curtain behind me.
"Liar!" Kate cal ed from outside the dressing room. I squeezed into the tight dress and wished I were wearing something fluffier like Rachel's costume so I wouldn't feel so exposed. My boobs were kind of spil ing out, but the sheath shape of the dress made my hips and legs look as if I had hips and legs. I pul ed back the curtain when I was ready, and Kate loosed a long whistle.
"You hot bitch," she said. "Trade costumes with me."
If my sexy nurse outfit made my boobs look a whole cup size bigger, Kate's devil outfit made her look like a porn star. No way could I pul that off. "No, thanks. You keep yours."
"You know I'm right, though," she said slyly. "He won't be able to keep his hands or his eyes off you al night."
I tried to disguise the smile growing, but I failed. Maybe that was exactly what I wanted. I stepped in front of the mirror and looked at myself from different angles. I did look good, afte
r al . If I was lucky, someone else might notice too. That Saturday Wil and I were sparring in our abandoned warehouse, as we usual y did on weekend afternoons. When a beam fel and crushed my hand, we were forced to the sidelines while my bones healed. I watched my skin grow back and the bones reshape, but that wasn't the strangest part. My broken hand never real y hurt that badly. Sure, it kil ed for the first few seconds, but the pain dul ed quickly, kil ed for the first few seconds, but the pain dul ed quickly, and then there I was, staring at my bones shuddering back into place. It didn't even nauseate me that much anymore. I wasn't sure which was weirder--my broken bones healing in minutes or my not being grossed out by it. A toss-up, real y.
"You ought to be used to that by now," Wil said. I looked up to see him watching me, his own scrapes disappearing from his skin. "I just never noticed my body healing like this before," I said. "It's weird that it doesn't hurt. In the fourth grade, Kate fel off the monkey bars and broke her arm. She cried so much. I break my bones and it just feels a little tingly after a moment or two. And now I realize . . . I never real y got hurt as a little girl."
"I'm sure you got hurt," he noted. "You just didn't pay a lot of attention to your wounds because they healed almost instantly."
I huffed, a nostalgic little smile forming on my face. "My mom always thought I was just lucky."
"No normal kid is that lucky." He crouched and reached out to touch my hand. He lifted it up and examined it. "Good as new."
"Does it hurt you?" I asked, watching him.
"Does what hurt?"
"When something breaks," I said, and took my hand back.
"Every time." His green eyes held mine for a moment longer, irresistibly, before he stood up.
"Do you think the Enshi could be one of the Fal en?" I asked, getting up also.
"I hope not."
"Have you ever seen one of them?"
"No," he said. "And I never, ever want to. They're the incarnation of everything terrible in this world," he explained.
"The manifestation of hate, sickness, greed . . . everything evil you can imagine."
"If they're so strong, then why don't they come and do their own dirty work? Why do they need demonic reapers?"