by Allison West
"And you're a grim reaper." He stared at her, his gaze never wavering. "I had this crazy idea, and you'll probably hate me for suggesting it," he said and paused, taking a breath. "I want you to come with me."
"Come with you, where?" Leila felt the knot in her stomach tighten. Reluctant to hear the answer, she nudged his leg to urge him to continue anyhow.
"Juliana wants me to stay with the dark angels for a while."
Leila's eyes widened as she took in a sharp breath. "And you want me to, what? Stay with you there?" Had he lost his mind? It was insane! "It's against the rules. I'm sure of it. I mean, it's not bad enough you're my teacher and what we're doing is bound to get us into trouble that I can't even fathom… you want to invite me to live with dark angels?"
"I know you can't stay at the refuge, but I was thinking we could find a cottage in the village and stay together until I'm done training."
"How would we get a cottage? I can't afford a place, and no stranger is going to invite me into their home without expecting something in return."
Wynter laughed softly and pulled Leila into his lap, his arms wrapping around her in an embrace. "The Second Wave has swept through many villages and kingdoms, including the land the dark angels reside. Many homes are abandoned."
"No way. I'm all about adventure, but that's grotesque. I'm not stealing from a dead person."
Wynter rolled his eyes. "Right, because we've never done that."
Leila knew they'd stolen a carriage, but at the time, she hadn't seen the harm in it. Slowly, she was beginning to regret her deceitful actions. "I was wrong to have helped Jasper."
"You liked it, and borrowing isn't always wrong," Wynter said and grinned.
Leila didn't answer, unsure what to say. As much as she wanted to be around Wynter and spend additional time with him, she wasn't a dark angel and didn't belong with his kind. They weren't likely to accept her anyhow.
Wynter cleared his throat. "It was a stupid idea. Can we forget I suggested it?"
Leila nodded, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Wynter. This is my fault."
He didn't lie to her and say it wasn't. Grateful, she remained silent as her fingers danced over his shirt. "How long are you going to be gone?"
"I don't have to go," Wynter said.
"Yes, you do." Leila knew he was still learning his new trade. He hadn't even saved someone yet. She suspected that he'd need guidance, just as she had. Besides, she'd feel terrible and full of guilt if he ignored his destiny. Isn't that what being undead was all about?
Silence enveloped the room. Leila could hear the pounding of her heart in her chest, thumping wildly against Wynter. "Do you ever think about it?"
"Think about what?" Wynter asked, tilting his head slightly down to get a look at Leila's eyes.
"How you'll decide whose life is worth saving?"
Wynter smiled and ran his hands down and across her back in soft, soothing motions. "All the time. Being a reaper is easy. You kiss the dying, and their soul is released. Even if you kiss the wrong soul, you aren't killing anyone."
Leila frowned. "You're not killing anyone, either, Wynter."
Wynter paused for a moment before he sighed and said, "I know that, but there are other undead factions that reapers aren't privy to. There are forces of evil that take lives, Leila. I can't say any more, but it's unsettling to think about."
His words clung to her heart, made her spine shudder and her hands tremble. Was he serious? "What kind of evil forces?" Certainly, she'd met her fair share of devious royals and princes who would do anything for the throne.
"I can't talk about it."
That was not the answer Leila had expected to hear. "Then why did you bring it up?" She knew why, at least she suspected. Wynter likely was uncomfortable with his newfound knowledge of the undead world and didn't want to keep it a secret. After all, Leila wasn't the only rule breaker.
The scroll, which had been quiet and still, tingled against Leila's thigh. Carefully, she slid the scroll down from beneath her dress, letting Wynter catch a glimpse of her thigh. She climbed off his lap and offered a reluctant smile. Maybe he would win this round since she no longer had the time to continue the discussion. Wynter was probably grateful for the interruption. The relieved look on his face said what words didn't.
The scroll sat tight against her thigh as Leila rode east to Talivia, through the morning light that soon turned to a thick blanket of clouds covering the afternoon sky.
Approaching the bank, Leila climbed down from the horse and tied the reins to a nearby bald cypress. She was grateful not to have any connections in Talivia. It made reaping souls easier. Her eyes scanned the beach, finding a young couple and child playing in the sand.
"Please, not another child," Leila said in a whisper as she examined the name on the scroll Anabel Decoup.
"Mama!" the toddler said and pointed at the water.
Leila wasn't sure what the toddler was seeing, but the young woman did. She stood up and headed for the sea. "Stay with your father, Louise."
The reaper breathed a sigh of relief, grateful the child was not her assignment.
"Anabel!" her husband called out to her.
"I'll be just a minute," Anabel said and walked farther into the sea, reaching for a wooden doll that had been swept away by the current.
Leila slipped off her shoes and ran into the surf, moving as quickly as possible toward Anabel. "I really should have let Wynter teach me to swim," she muttered, feeling the cold water sting her extremities and the current tug at her like hands gripping a sword, refusing to relinquish control. She fought the sea, using all her energy to reach Anabel. A wave crashed above her head, pulling her under and causing Leila to gasp for breath.
Leila's eyes burned from the salt of the sea. Choking on water, she held her breath as another wave plummeted over her head. Kicking and flailing her arms, she reached where Anabel had been just moments earlier. Leila held her breath and dropped below the surface. She couldn't see more than an arm's reach in front of her. Feeling out into the cold sea, her fingers brushed against skin and she pulled at the arm of the dying woman, brushing her lips against the extremity as a rush of bubbles left her mouth.
Wave after wave pounded against Leila, dragging her body down against the cold floor of the briny blue. Her fingers scraped at the sand, unable to break free of the current as it pulled her farther out to sea. Leila felt her last breath escape her lungs. In the distance, she could hear Anabel's voice but couldn't make out the words as her body tumbled under the waves, no longer able to comprehend which way was up. Perhaps she could find her own way to the glimmer; Leila was in no position to offer any help.
Hours passed before Leila washed up on shore. Her skin burned as though it were on fire. A bright flash of orange stretched across the horizon, coming from her raw flesh. The heat emitted made her feverish, until the cool seawater crashed against her skin. Coughing, she spit out water from her new lungs. She'd taken a beating, but she'd live, this time. Forcing herself off the sand and to her horse, she stumbled along the beach, dizzy and disoriented.
"Are you okay, ma'am?" a young gentleman asked.
"Just nearly drowned," Leila said, wiping the wet locks of hair out of her face.
"Must be a terrible undercurrent today. Consider yourself lucky. A mother on the beach just died from the sea."
Leila kept quiet. What could she say to that? 'I know, I reaped her soul?' That wouldn't go over well. She offered a weak smile.
"Have a good day, ma'am," he said and continued on his way toward the beach.
Leila watched with fascination. Moments ago, he had spoken about the rough seas, and now he was removing his shirt and preparing to go in the water. Some people never learned.
Chapter 34
Wynter had stayed out most of the night, finding a quiet place of solitude. Juliana's words had weighed heavily on him. Trying the handle, he pushed open the old, rickety door, hearing it creak and the floorboards gro
an as he quietly moved into the house.
"Who's there?" A brunette yawned, sitting up on the sofa. It wasn't Violetta, her hair was darker, and Leila was a redhead.
Wynter stared at the woman. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were red.
"Wynter, what are you doing here? You are supposed to be with the dark angels." She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"I, uh, got back early. Is Leila in her bedroom? Are you the new reaper?" he asked, not entirely surprised a stranger was on their sofa. With Emblyn gone and himself a dark angel, his reaper friends needed a little extra help.
"No," she said and laughed softly, running a hand through her hair. "Oh, right, I'm not me anymore. I died," she said. "It's me, Wynter. Leila."
All he could do was stare. Dark tendrils framed her face. Her eyes were two round abysses, as though staring into the night sky. She was beautiful, heavenly, and taller. With Leila sitting down, he already noticed the difference.
"I know, surprising, right?" Leila said, breaking the silence.
"What happened?" He knew the obvious reason for the change—she'd died—but how had it happened? What could he have done to prevent it? Juliana was right; Leila's clock was ticking.
Leila shifted on the sofa and pulled her legs around front. "The short answer, I drowned. I should have let you teach me to swim."
"At this time of year, you'd have probably died of hypothermia even if you hadn't drowned." Wynter couldn't blame her, any more than he could blame himself for not being there to save her. It was his responsibility to save the lives of those dying and to be her teacher. He was a dark angel, and he'd been too busy staring at a book and listening to Juliana instead of doing his job.
"Maybe so," Leila said, staring at the wall, her gaze distant and her voice far away.
"Why aren't you in bed?" Wynter asked, taking note of her still on the sofa and the pillow at the end of the couch. He reached for her hand, pulling her up and into his arms. "Let's get you into bed." He was ready to get some sleep himself. Having stayed up all night on his way home wasn't as easy as he remembered it to be.
Leila shook her head in protest. "I couldn't sleep. I just keep thinking about my father's death. I'm worried about Mara. How she's handling losing everyone in her life. When does it get easier?"
Wynter sighed. Was he supposed to be honest or helpful? To this day, he still missed his family. He refused to tell her that it never stopped hurting. The pain may dull, but the blade was always present and ever sharp. He kissed her cheek and took her hand, leading her into the bedroom. "We should try to get some sleep." He'd been awake all night, and by the looks of it, Wynter suspected she hadn't gotten much sleep, either. He pulled the sheets back on her mattress and waited for her to climb in first. He curled up against her, as best he could with his wings tugging at his back. He pulled the covers up around them and shifted onto his stomach, draping one leg across hers, keeping her close to him.
"I miss her."
Wynter gently placed a kiss to Leila's forehead and then her cheeks, trying again to dry her tears. "Your sister?" he guessed. At least she was still alive, the only remaining person of the Dacre royal family.
Leila nodded silently.
"Maybe we should request a vacation? We haven't heard from Emblyn since she left. It'd be nice to see how she's doing."
The sniffling momentarily stopped. "I don't think I can. Mara's coronation will be soon."
"You'll have a little while before that happens." Wynter may not have been royal, but he knew enough about royalty to know they always liked a good party. There would be preparations involved in planning a ball as elegant as a coronation.
"Maybe." Leila seemed disinterested. She closed her eyes.
"Or we could just stay here, go visit Mara at her coronation, and take it easy for a while?" All Wynter wanted was for Leila to be happy.
"What about Juliana?" Leila yawned. "You have to learn to become a dark angel." She seemed to be fighting sleep.
Wynter closed his eyes and drew soft circles across her back. "We'll figure it out. I know the basics of how to save a soul from death. The rest, I suppose I'll figure out when it happens." How hard could it be? Dark angels lived forever. If he failed to save the person's life and Leila had to release their soul, at least they would be a team and could work together. It didn't sound so bad.
He rested on his stomach, staring at the window, overtired as she snored softly beside him. Juliana was right. Leila wouldn't live forever. It was a truth he wasn't ready to face, and seeing her new identity reminded him that there was nothing he could do to stop fate.
Chapter 35
Violetta laced the back of Leila's gown, the top a black corset, the bottom free-flowing down to her ankles in a deep midnight blue. Leila stared at her reflection in the mirror. It had taken some getting used to, but she liked the changes, and the dress looked stunning with her dark hair and eyes.
"You're all coming with me, right?" Leila asked.
"I need to get dressed in clothes appropriate for a queen's coronation. Can I borrow one of your dresses?" Violetta asked.
Violetta rarely borrowed anything of Leila's. Vi's style tended to be on the dark and mysterious side. Before Leila had died a second time, it was unlikely the girls could have exchanged clothes even if they had wanted to. Violetta was taller, slightly bustier, and had hips that matched her build. Leila had always been small and petite in stature. Now, though, after gaining some height, the rest of her body had followed suit. It was as though she'd had a growth spurt overnight. Leila had been forced to use most of her stipend on new clothes.
"Yes," Leila answered Violetta, "you can borrow one of my gowns." Though she only had two that were fancy enough and most appropriate for a coronation ceremony, it was exactly what was needed. "You boys should get dressed too." Leila expected Jasper to come. He had been practically attached to Violetta since Leila's change. She didn't know what happened that day when Jasper went with Violetta on a reap, but evidently something did, because she let him hang around and didn't tease him over it. She'd even caught glimpses of his hand at the small of her back, rubbing his palm in circles over her dress, holding her close, and Vi hadn't pulled away. Perhaps the change between Wynter and herself had been the catalyst for them as well.
Leila headed to the closet and retrieved a gown for Violetta to wear.
"I'm not sure I should attend," Wynter said.
Leila poked her head out of the bedroom. "Why not?"
"Queen Mara knows who I am, and remember, she's looking for you. Maybe you've changed, but I haven't."
Leila handed the gown to Violetta. She quietly took it and scurried off into her bedroom to get changed. It seemed as though she didn't want to be part of the conversation, and Leila didn't blame her.
"I forgot about that," Leila said, feeling bad she hadn't realized Wynter could get himself into serious trouble showing up. "She's likely going to be busy with the ceremony and celebrating with other royals that she'll hardly notice who's there. I'm not saying you should come; it's up to you," Leila said, trying to make her point clear. "But if you want to attend, I doubt she'll notice you in the crowd of attendees."
"I think I'll stay here, if that's all right with you," Wynter said.
"Of course." Leila grimaced when she felt her scroll provide her with an assigned reap. "Seriously?" she muttered under her breath, pulling the parchment carefully down her leg without revealing any skin. She opened the document, glancing it over.
Wynter fell to his knees, his head in his hands.
Leila dropped the scroll, her hand landing on his back. "What's wrong, Wynter? What is it?"
He gasped, his body trembling and his eyes pinched shut. "I see it."
"See what?" Leila asked, glancing at Jasper, wondering if he knew what was going on.
Jasper shook his head. No idea, he mouthed as Leila bent down beside Wynter. "Tell me what's happening. What do you see?" Jasper asked.
"The soul I have to save." His f
ingers moved rhythmically against the wooden floor. "Benedict Tote."
Leila glanced at her scroll again. Wynter had yet to look at it. "That's the name on my scroll," Leila said in a whisper.
Wynter's eyes flashed open, his breathing still labored, but he appeared to be in control again.
"What just happened?" Leila asked. She didn't want to sound scared, but she was terrified. Is that what being a dark angel was like? This was her fault!
"Just a vision of something." Wynter frowned. "I'm not quite sure, but if we have the same soul, then it's my job to save him. You go to the coronation."
Leila frowned. Her sister was important, but she was a part of Leila's past. She wasn't about to let Wynter down. "Are you sure? I can skip the coronation." It wasn't that she wanted to miss it, that was the furthest thing on her mind, but she wanted to do the right thing. She was trying her best to be a better reaper.
Wynter pushed himself up off the floor and walked to the sofa, taking a seat. His skin glistened with sweat, but he looked better, less pale, and he had more color in his cheeks. "You're not skipping the coronation, Leila. I know how much it means to you. I need to do this. It's my job."
"I can go with you."
"No. It's not necessary. We'll meet up later after the coronation. Just keep out of trouble, okay? Mara might not recognize you, but she's met Jasper."
Violetta stepped out of the bedroom. The golden gown accentuated her cleavage and fanned out down her hips. "How do I look, boys?"
Jasper's eyes lit up. "Gorgeous. Do you need help with the back of the gown?"
"Leila can help," Violetta said, gesturing for her to come over and assist.