“You’re going to have to do it,” he says quietly. “There are too many Reapers here … I can’t get you out.” He looks at me helplessly, almost as if he loathes himself for what’s happening.
“Fine, I’ll do it.” I step toward Asher, wanting to comfort him. “But promise me you won’t blame yourself.”
“I can’t avoid blaming myself,” he tells me in desperation. “Doing this—tasting souls—it’ll only make your choice harder for you.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say, but it feels like a lie. “It can’t be any worse than when I … drank some of Cameron’s death from him.”
Something in Asher’s eyes clicks, and then he laces his fingers through mine. “I have an idea that might help the darkness not be so overpowering when you do this.” He strokes his finger along the inside of my wrist. “I want you to drink some of my life before you do it. That way, you’ll have more Angel inside you, and it will hopefully counter the darkness that comes with stealing parts of a soul.”
“Okay,” I agree nervously. While I enjoyed drinking some of his life the first time around, the Reaper side of me is disgusted by the idea. I fight that side, force it down, and lock it away the best that I can.
“This is ridiculous,” Cameron mutters. “And completely unnecessary.”
“Just relax,” Asher tells me, disregarding Cameron. He cups my cheek with his hand and carries my gaze. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I inhale then close my eyes. “I’m ready.”
Still cupping my cheek, Asher leans in and molds his lips to mine. I promptly feel his warmness slip down my throat and flow through my body, filling my veins with liquid sunshine. I fall into the feeling, craving more, and slide my tongue deep inside his mouth.
I haven’t kissed Asher in a while, and he gasps in surprise yet kisses me right back. My hands find his shoulders, and my fingernails delve into his shirt, grasping on as I drink more of his life.
Finally, it becomes too much for Asher, and he breaks the kiss, stepping away from me and gasping for oxygen.
“Are you okay?” I ask, licking my lips.
“I’m good … I just need a moment.” He hunches over and braces his hands on his knees, working to catch his breath. I worry I might have tried to take too much until he stands up straight, looking high and completely content. “I missed you,” he murmurs, his chest rapidly rising and falling.
A small smile graces my lips. “I missed you, too.”
“That was utterly disgusting.” Cameron gags, ruining the moment. His gaze travels to the doorway behind me and glares at something. “It’s time. They’re done waiting.” He strides forward, seizing hold of my arm and hauling me toward the door.
“Aren’t you coming?” I ask Asher as I stumble backward toward the doorway.
Asher gives me a heart-wrenching look then shakes his head. “I can’t.” His eyes plead with me to understand.
I’m not sure if he means the Reapers won’t let him or if he just can’t watch me taste a soul for the first time. It really doesn’t matter. All that does is keeping ahold of the warmth and good inside me.
Cameron and the Reaper lead me to a back room where a human is waiting for me. The walls around me are blood red, but not from my Reaper vision. The chandelier above offers inadequate light, and I can’t tell what the person looks like other than it’s a woman.
“I don’t even know what I’m doing,” I whisper with my eyes locked on the woman willingly waiting for me to taste her soul.
“It’ll come instinctually.” Cameron nudges me forward and moves with me. He takes my hands, places them on the woman’s shoulder, and then watches with hunger in his eyes.
The woman stands perfectly still, a statue waiting to be cracked apart. I want to run. I want to stay. I need to go. I need to taste. My mind is on overload as I lean forward, open my mouth, and begin to suck the soul from inside her.
Shadows cast upon my grave
Sing a song
Of what I was.
They whisper promises of what I’ve become,
Tell me secrets of fire and lust.
A spark hidden deep inside me
Tells me things I’m scared to hear,
Tells me things I’ve always known,
Tells me what I’ve always feared.
Chapter 5
Asher
I can tell she wants me to go with her, but I can’t. Even though I love her, watching her taste a human soul will be too hard to endure, and I worry I’ll lose it. I’m already on the brink of snapping and doing something that could get me killed.
I want to fight every Reaper in this place, want to beat the shit out of Cameron. Being weakened by my banishment, I’d be at the losing end of the battle, though. And I need to be here for Ember.
After Cameron and the Reaper take her to a back room, I wait outside at the bar, which only serves drinks laced with souls. When the bartender asks me what he can get me, I decline. He eyes me over with distrust, and I think he might know what I am. I’m not afraid, though. Reapers outside of the Anamotti usually leave me alone, considering I have traces of Reaper in my bloodline.
I sit alone at the bar for a while, trying to block out the mist and noise filling the room. Eventually, a woman wearing a cloak plops down on a barstool beside me.
“You look lonely,” she says, resting her arms on the glass countertop.
I glance up at the recognizable voice, and my eyes sweep over the woman who was once one of my mother’s closest friends until she betrayed her.
“Casandria Destining. What the hell are you doing here?”
She shrugs, crossing her legs and flipping her blonde hair from her shoulder. “This place has its perks.” She raises her hand to flag down the bartender and orders a whiskey sour. “Besides, there’s really no other place for me to go now that I’ve been deemed an outcast, thanks to your mother.”
I laugh hollowly. “You did that to yourself by turning her in.”
“I didn’t turn her in,” she argues, flashing the bartender a charming grin when he sets the drink in front of her. She collects the glass and downs half of it in one swallow. “Your mother turned herself in.”
“You’re lying. There’s no way she’d do that.”
“You really believe that?” She places the glass down on the counter. “Think about it. Your mother was secretly in love with a Grim Reaper who broke her heart and left her with two sons who were instantly deemed outcasts amongst the Angels. She hated herself for what she had done and thought she deserved to be punished.” She swishes the ice around in the glass. “Not to mention, she feared your father would come after the two of you if he ever found out you existed.”
My brows furrow in confusion. “Wait. My father doesn’t know my mother had us?”
“No, your mother feared he’d take you and Cameron if he knew and force you to become like him.” She finishes off her drink and sets down the empty glass. “Her banishment may have kept her away from the two of you, but for a good reason.”
“But Cameron ended up being one of them, anyway,” I remind her. “Even without our father interfering.”
“He’s not completely like your father,” she assures me. “He might have chosen his Reaper blood, but he’s not entirely evil.”
“That could be argued. Trust me.”
“And trust me when I say he’s nowhere near as evil as your father.”
I study her carefully. “You know who my father is, don’t you?”
She leans in toward me. “I think, deep down, you might know who he is, too.”
I force down the lump in my throat. “No, I don’t.”
She moves back, swishing her cloak out of the way as she hops off the barstool. “Living in denial isn’t going to do any good, Asher.” She starts to leave then pauses. “If I were you,” she whispers, “I’d start accepting reality, especially when reality is searching for those who carry his bloodline.”
My back goes rigid. “Why would he do that
?”
“As a way around the curse of the Grim Angel.” She dips her lips toward my ear. “If he can drain the souls and blood of his own, then he’ll be more powerful than the curse that he created. The Grim Angel will no longer control the fate of the world. He will.” She walks off toward a circle of Reapers, leaving me to stew in my own worry.
She never said who my father is, but deep down, I’ve always had my suspicions. Now, I’m starting to believe even more that I’ve been right all along. There are two people that created the curse of the Grim Angel. Michael and Altarius. Since Michael isn’t a Reaper, that leaves Altarius as the one searching for a way to break the curse, which means…
“Fuck, he has to be my father.” I shove away from the bar, rise to my feet, and rapidly scan the room for signs of Cameron and Ember.
I need to find them quickly and get the fuck out of here, pay a visit to my mother, and find out the truth.
Besides, if Altarius is really looking for us to break the curse, then nowhere is safe.
Chapter 6
Ember
I’m utterly disgusted with myself.
I’m completely pleased with myself.
I’m high on the soul I tasted.
I’m confused over what really lies inside of me.
“Come on.” Cameron grabs me by the arm and steers me away from the woman.
I reach out to her, wanting to go back and drown in her soul, but Cameron tightens his hold on me and forces me out the door. He hauls me down the narrow hallway toward the room full of Reapers.
“I want to go back,” I beg, tugging my arm away from him. “I need more.”
He jerks me against him, his eyes dark beneath the low lighting. “If you take more, you’ll kill her.”
“So what?” My mind is foggy, and my veins hum with sparks of energy. “You shouldn’t care.” I slip my hand up his arm and tangle my fingers through his hair. “I bet you’ve killed a lot of them, haven’t you?”
He stares blankly at me. “You’re not in your right mind.” He reaches up and removes my hand from his hair. “Now come on, before Asher has a fit.”
I dig my heels into the floor, refusing to go any farther away from the soul I crave. “No.”
He turns to face me with his mouth set in a firm line. “Stop being a pain in the ass. Besides, you’ll thank me for this later.”
“You’re acting weird.” My voice echoes around me. “Why don’t you want me to do this? You love it when I’m bad.”
He takes a measured breath before leaning in toward me. “Because, when you come out of that little high you’re in right now, you’ll hate me for whatever you do.”
“Says who?”
He shakes his head, irritated. “If I would have known you were going to be this annoying after a taste, I would have fought harder to get you out of doing it.”
My hands skate up his chest, and my arms loop around the back of his neck. My limbs don’t feel attached to my body anymore, as if they’ve grown a mind of their own. “Exactly, so stop fighting.”
He refuses to look at me. “You’re not even making any sense right now.”
The Reaper blood in me burns with need. Taste. Need. Taste.
“I just need it, Cameron.” I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
His mouth is like ice under mine, and he doesn’t kiss me back. It doesn’t matter. I’m not really looking for a kiss, but a taste of the death that lives inside him, hoping it will temporarily settle the overwhelming need to taste more souls.
When I begin to suck death out of him, he pushes me back. I stumble into the wall behind me, stunned. He gives me zero time to react as he strides toward me and aligns his body with mine.
“As much as I love letting you drink from me, I’m not going to.” He cups the hollow of my throat, his fingertips pressing down.
“Why not?” I pant, still teetering between reality and the high.
“Because it’d be too much for you right now and more than likely kill you, which is something I’ll never let happen.” With a deep growl, his lips crash against mine.
He kisses me with so much force I feel my lips bruising. His hands grip my thighs, and his fingers press downward as he scoops me up and grinds against me. When I gasp, he gives another rock of his hips before setting me back down and backing away, looking as calm as can be.
“What was that for?” I comb my fingers through my hair, smoothing the strands back into place.
He silently watches me, waiting for something to happen.
Slowly, the fog in my mind lifts like a veil from my eyes, and I realize what I just tried to do. If he would have let me, I would have gone back and stolen the soul from that woman, killed her.
“Oh, my God.” I cover my hand over my mouth. “How…? Why…?”
“Relax. You didn’t do it.” He seems unbothered, even a little bit bored.
“But I almost…” I choke, shaking my head as vomit burns at my throat.
He watches me for a moment as I fight back the tears and vomit, and something in his eyes clicks, something that infuriates him. He spins around and rushes for the end of the hallway.
I quietly follow him, ashamed of my actions and myself, wishing I could erase the last twenty minutes. I’m starting to truly lose sight of the person I once was, and I’m not sure how much more I can take before I won’t be able to recognize who I am anymore.
By the time Cameron and I find Asher at the bar, an awkward silence has settled between us. The awkwardness goes up a thousand notches when Asher makes eye contact with me, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment, my bad decision written all over my face.
Thankfully, Asher doesn’t comment on my blush. “Everything good now?” he asks cautiously.
I nod, wishing I could curl up into his arms. Maybe then I could forget about all the ugliness inside me. “I just want to get out of here.”
He stiffly smiles then takes my hand, his warm palm soothing. “It’s going to be all right. Whatever happened back there wasn’t your fault.”
True or not, I still feel like shit.
As the three of us head out of the building, I stew in a mixture of emotion ranging from guilt to desire. Guilt over what I did and the desire to go back and do it again.
Fortunately, once I get outside into the fresh air, the pull I felt within the building gradually dissipates.
“So, now what?” I ask as I stand on the curb with Asher on one side of me and Cameron on the other.
Asher gives a fleeting glance at Cameron then at me. “I think, for tonight, we should find a place to sleep and start reading that book.”
“Why can’t we go back to the place in your mind?” I suggest. “It’s safer there.”
“Because I still need to visit … someone while we’re here.” He offers me an apologetic look then sighs, casting a glance at Cameron. “Our mother.”
“Why the fuck would you do that?” The sharpness in Cameron’s voice causes me to flinch.
“Because I need to ask her a question.” Asher lets go of my hand and tensely massages the back of his neck. “About our father and about something she did to Ember in her sleep.”
Cameron’s features harden as he scowls at Asher. “Are you fucking stupid? She’s not going to tell you anything about our father or a dream. She never tells us anything other than what we don’t want to hear.”
“Then maybe you can tell me who our father is.” Asher waits for an answer.
“Why would I know?” Cameron rolls his eyes. “I’m the last person our mother would ever tell. She hates me more than anyone.”
“Maybe you learned the information from someone else,” Asher says, assessing Cameron’s reaction.
“Hate to break it to you, but I’m as clueless as you when it comes to who the hell created us,” he replies in a bored tone.
“You have no idea whatsoever?” Asher asks, folding his arms. “Because I’m having a hard time buying it.”
Cameron stares out
at the road. “I have a few ideas, but they’re only that. Ideas.”
“Do these ideas include the Reaper who created the curse?” Asher questions with a challenge in his tone.
“You think your dad’s Altarius?” I ask, flabbergasted. “No. There’s no way. You’re too good.”