“He’s not as good as you think,” Cameron tells me in a clipped tone. “And your romanticized view of him is really starting to get annoying.” He backs away from us toward the corner of the street. “Maybe you should start asking him about his past, Ember, and all the hearts he’s broken.” He reaches behind him and retrieves the book out of thin air. “If you’re going to visit our mother, you can count me out.” Dropping it to the ground, he twists around, sprouting feathers from his body and shifting into his raven form. Then he swoops up toward the midnight sky and disappears into the night.
Asher whisks by me, collects the book, and then dusts the dirt off the worn, leather cover. “He has a lot of hate toward our mother,” Asher explains, tucking the book under his arm.
“Why?” I glance up the stars and moon in the sky, wondering if he really flew away or if he’s still hovering up there, listening to us.
The lights reflect in his eyes as he stares out at the cars driving up and down the streets. “While we were growing up, she always made it pretty clear who her favorite was. She wasn’t the greatest mother to begin with, but for some reason, she was a terrible one to him.”
For the very first time, I feel sorry for Cameron. He might be a pain in my ass, but perhaps there’s a reason why. I know all too well how horrible it can feel to be hated by your own mother.
“How do we get ahold of your mother?” I ask, my voice uneven as memories surface to haunt me.
He pats his pocket. “I sent her a text while I was waiting for you and Cameron. Now it’s all a matter of waiting for her to reply.”
“A text? That seems so … well, easy.”
“What did you expect? That we had to do a magic spell or something?”
“At this point, anything seems possible.”
He chuckles, but sounds tired. “Come on. Let’s go get a room and get some sleep. If she doesn’t respond soon, I’ll figure something else out. In the meantime”—he lifts the book in front of him—“I’ll skim through this and see if I can figure out more about this et furabatur de Anima tenebroso. Hopefully, it’ll help us get some answers about freeing the souls of the people you care for.”
We head down the sidewalk, my thoughts drifting to what I did in Toxic Soul and how all I want right now is for Asher to hold me and tell me it’s okay. That I’ll be fine. That I’m not as evil as I felt when I tasted the soul.
“About what Cameron said,” Asher says, misreading my silence. “He’s right. I’m not as good as you think I am. I’ve done some stuff that I’m ashamed of.”
“Haven’t we all?” I ask absentmindedly then bite down on my tongue to stop myself from saying anything else.
“Mine was done of my own freewill, though.”
“Sometimes, the stuff I do feels like it’s done of my own freewill, too. Sometimes, it feels like I have no clue who I am, and that deep down, maybe I’ve been this terrible person all along.”
He draws me closer as we approach a busier area of the city, and the sidewalk grows more crowded. “You want to know what I think?” he asks and I nod. He drapes an arm around my shoulder and pulls me against his side. “I think you’re an amazingly strong person.”
“I wanted to kill that woman, the woman whose soul I tasted.” I avert my eyes, dropping my head.
He seems mildly shocked. “That’s not your fault. It’s the Reaper side in you.”
“Do you…? Do you ever feel that way? I know you said you’re not the same as a Grim Angel, but you have Reaper blood, right?”
He’s silent for a while, and I begin to worry that I triggered a nerve or something.
“Honestly, yes. Sometimes, I feel this pull to the evil side that I know lies in my blood.” He stares ahead as he speaks. “I tried it once … with a woman I thought I was in love with. She was like those people at Toxic Soul … She wanted me to try it on her, and I did.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing really. I stopped halfway through and hated myself for even trying.”
“That’s because you’re good at heart.”
“What Cameron said about my past—about me breaking hearts—that’s true. I’ve broken a lot of hearts over the centuries, mainly because I was desperate to prove that I could love. But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find it.” He halts in the middle of the sidewalk, the people moving around us as he reaches forward and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. Then he lowers his lips toward mine and kisses me, right there in the middle of the crowd, the kind of kiss that steals my breath away and erases the darkness inside me. Right before our mouths connect, I swear I hear him whisper, “Until now.”
But that would mean Asher loves me. And I can’t believe that right now. Believing that risks me falling in love with him, which means that, in the end, I’ll have to kill him.
Chapter 7
Cameron
When Asher brought up our mother, I wanted to wring his neck. I hate being reminded of the woman I refuse to think of, the one who told me every day that I would turn into exactly what I am now.
“I can see it in your eyes—the evil,” she would always tell me. “I know it lives inside you, and I know what choice you’re going to make, what side you belong to.”
Sometimes, I would argue with her, but mostly, I chose to remain quiet because, deep down, I knew she was right. I could feel my Reaper side running through my veins beneath the Angel blood. Every time I messed up, she would remind me of what I was. I started messing up more to prove her right. Before I knew it, I was craving the darkness and hating the goodness inside me.
I’ve never regretted my decision of becoming a Grim Reaper until the day I had to take Ember’s father’s soul. I knew she’d hate me for it, which is why I tried to warn her beforehand. I secretly hoped she’d be able to stop what I had to do, but in the end, that wasn’t the case. Now I’m left trying to figure out how the hell to get his soul out so she’ll forgive me and maybe finally be with me. But the chance of her choosing Reaper over Angel is looking grimmer by the second.
Back at the Toxic Soul, I could see the self-loathing in her eyes when the daze lifted from her mind. She detested what she did so much that it made her ill.
I’m not sure where that leaves me. I never wanted Altarius to gain control over the souls, especially with the curse he has against my family. Him having that kind of power will only make things worse for me. But allowing Michael to control the souls isn’t that great of an option, either.
Regardless, no matter which way this goes, the Reapers will always be able to get souls. Whether it’s through willing humans who offer themselves or the simple fact that we never really follow the rules and will more than likely steal what we aren’t supposed to take, we will find a way to get what we need.
I hover above Asher and Ember for a while, watching them walk around the city. They seem at ease with each other and sometimes even laugh. It’s absolutely annoying as hell to watch. Eventually, I grow so disgusted I have to leave.
For most of the night, I fly around the city, trying to figure out what to do next. Part of me wants to say to hell with all this and go back to my old life, but I can’t get that kiss out of my head, the one I stole from Ember in the hallway at Toxic Soul. That kiss might have sealed my fate from the moment our lips touched, because it made me realize just how bad I want her.
So, instead of flying back home, I do laps around the buildings and soar above the streets, stewing in my own self-hatred and trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do next.
Chapter 8
Ember
Before Asher and I check into a hotel, we stop at a shop to pick up a few clean clothes and toiletries. Then we make our way to the room and silently get ready for bed.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get us a room with more than one bed,” he apologizes as I brush my teeth in front of the bathroom sink. “I know you’ve needed your space the last few days.”
I rinse my mouth and toothbrush then lean against
the doorframe. “It’s fine.” I eye Asher lying in the bed shirtless, and my stomach flutters with nerves.
My vision ripples with waves of blood, but as I think of how I almost killed the woman back at Toxic Soul, I swiftly bury my Reaper sensations deep inside me.
“I can sleep on the floor.” He starts to sit up, misreading my silence.
“No, you’re fine.” Leaving the bathroom light on, I wave at him then round the foot of the bed and crawl onto the mattress.
I fluff the pillow and lie down, staring up at the ceiling. As silence settles, I almost drift to sleep, but the second I shut my eyes, I see my mother’s face and jerk awake.
“Are you okay?” Asher leans over me and closely examines my face.
“I’m fine.” I rub my eyes. “I just have issues with falling asleep.”
He rolls on his hip and props himself up on his elbow. “What can I do to help?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Can we talk about something else? Like maybe a better place and time?”
“You want to talk about your past before you become a Grim Angel? I’ve always wondered what life was like for you back then.”
I pull the sheet over me and rotate on my side. “It definitely wasn’t a better place and time.”
“Okay.” He racks his brain for another idea. “What about the future?”
My mouth curves to a frown. “The future looks pretty grim right now.”
“Well, what do you plan on doing when all of this is over?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. It’s hard to when I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, to you, to my family.”
“Let’s say everything goes back to normal, then what? What do you want to do with your life?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Finish school. Get a job, maybe one that has to do with writing.”
“That sounds like a good plan.” He pauses. “Although, there’s not a lot of fun on your short to-do list.”
“That’s because I’m not used to fun. My life’s pretty much been death, taking care of my crazy father, my drug addict mother, and my brother.”
He searches my eyes through the dark. “Can you do something for me? Can you promise me that, if you do get to go back to your old life, you’ll make a to-do list that has a ton of fun things on it?” He places a hand on my arm, his fingers searing hot against my skin. “Live your life with no regrets.”
Live life with no regrets… It sounds impossible, considering the fact that I’ll eventually have to sacrifice someone’s life.
Still, the hope in his eyes causes me to nod and make the promise.
“Thank you.” He leans in and steals a taste from my lips.
The kiss is brief, but I feel it through my body, like liquid fire spilling through my veins.
We settle in bed, not quite touching, but close. I drift off to sleep, dreaming of promises of the future.
But then my mother enters my dreams and reminds me of what I have to do.
***
Every time I close my eyes, I dream that I’m leaning over Asher and plunging a knife into his chest. Then he bleeds out on the grass and dies in my arms. My mom appears beside me and tells me everything is going to be okay. She pats my head and assures me that she’ll take care of him in the afterlife. His mother never makes another appearance in my dreams.
Needless to say, I sleep terribly for the next few days. Every morning, by the time the sun is rising over the city, I’m already wide awake, showered, dressed in fresh clothes we picked up, and lost in my own worry. The longer I think about the vision, the more I arrive at the conclusion that maybe I need to tell Asher, at least warn him of what I’ve seen. He seems so stressed, though, and I hate the idea of worrying him even more.
Over the last few days, we’ve been trying to get ahold of his mother, but she won’t answer her phone. He has left her countless messages and texts, but she won’t reply.
Asher sleeps better than me and never wakes up until around nine or so. Today, when he sees me sitting at the table, staring outside at the view of the busy street, he frowns.
“You’re up early.” He’s got a serious case of bedhead and is shirtless, giving me a full view of the dark ink on his side and the lean muscles carving his body.
“I haven’t been able to sleep very well for the last few days.” I collect the cup of stale coffee in front of me and take a sip. “I think I have too much on my mind.”
He rubs his tired eyes and yawns as he sits up in the bed. “I’m sorry …. It’s not my mother again, is it?”
I set the cup down. “No, just … other stuff.”
He throws the blankets off and plants his bare feet on the floor. “Anything you want to talk about?”
I rotate in the chair, and the sunlight streaming through the window warms my back. “I think I might need to tell you something ... something really bad… It’s about a death omen I saw when the Reaper in front of that hotel touched me.”
He freezes mid-stretch, and his arms fall to his lap. “Okay.” He considers something before climbing out of bed. Then he places his hands on my thighs and crouches down in front of me. “I want you to always feel comfortable talking to me, even if you think something’s bad. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”
“I’m not so sure that’s how it’s going to work this time.” I sigh tiredly when a pucker forms at his brows. “I saw your death.”
“You know I’m immortal, right?” he says with a rise of his brow. “There are very few ways to kill me and even fewer who can pull it off. In fact, there’s only one way for me to die that I know of, and it’s by a knife sealed with the blood of both the leader of the Reapers and the leader of the Angels. And, right now, the only two who have those knives are Michael and Altarius. There might be other ways, but I honestly have never even heard of them.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I tell him with a frown. “Especially if Altarius is trying to kill you and steal your soul.”
“Sorry. I was just trying to make you see how hard it would be for me to die.” He rubs his jawline. “Maybe in your dream I was just hurt.”
“Hurt really badly, then.” My breath hitches in my throat, and I feel like I’m being strangled. “There’s more, too.” He remains calm, waiting patiently for me to continue. “The person who killed you or hurt you … It was me.”
He remains motionless for a long time before he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and pushes to his feet. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Asher, didn’t you hear what I said?” My voice cracks as I spring from the chair in a panic. “Sometime in the near future, I’m either going to hurt you or kill you.” When he shrugs again, I get a little pissed off at his blasé attitude. “Aren’t you worried? Because I sure the fuck am!”
He contemplates his next words carefully. “You really want to know what I think?” he asks and I nod. He steps toward me until there isn’t room left between our bodies then takes my face in his hands. “I think, if you saw what you say you saw, then it more than likely means it’s for the sacrifice, and honestly, that doesn’t really bother me.”
I press my quivering lips together. “You can’t be sure that’s what it means. Maybe I do it because I choose my Reaper side, and the evil in me does it. Or maybe it is because of the sacrifice, but for the evil side.”
“I don’t agree with you.” He sketches his thumb across my jawline, his gaze flicking to my lips. “I know you feel conflicted right now, but that’s how it’s supposed to be. If it were easy, there wouldn’t be a point. I know you’ll choose good in the end, though. I always have.”
“Even if you’re right, it still means I’d have to kill you.”
“Because you’d be in love me,” he says with a hint of a smile on his lips.
Do I love him yet? I’m not sure. All I know is the idea of losing him is terrifying me to the very core.
“Does it really matter? You’d be dead.” I suck in a hu
ge breath of air, feeling so overwhelmed that I worry I’m going to faint. “I can’t lose you, even if it’s for the good of mankind. I’ve already lost everyone else in my life … I can’t do it again.”
“I’m sorry you’ve lost so much, but we don’t know for sure if everyone’s gone yet.” The more I talk about sacrificing him, the happier he seems and the more frustrated I become. “And I’m still here right now, so relax.”
“Will you stop looking so happy and help me figure this out?” I plead.
“There’s nothing to figure out. You can’t help who you fall in love with. Trust me, I’ve lived a long time trying to do so, and it never worked.”