by Tara Fuller
I brushed the curtain of blond hair away from Em’s face so I could see the emotions playing there. “She said she’s waiting for me. That it’s only a matter of time before…”
Her head snapped up and her eyes glossed over with moisture. “Before what?”
“I die.” I combed my fingers through my hair and tugged. “What else would a reaper want with me?”
When I gave in and looked over at her, she was shaking her head, a glossy gaze fixed on her fingers, twisting my bedsheets into knots. “No. No…you’re not. It has to be a mistake. You must have misunderstood her.”
“Em…” I sighed, wishing I had a different answer to give her. One that included me living out a long happy life with her by my side. It made my chest ache to think of how much I was going to miss. She’d go to college. Go after her dreams and make mistakes. I wanted more with this new Emma who wasn’t scared of the world. I wanted more and I wasn’t going to get it.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered in a broken voice. A tear slipped down her cheek and I reached out to wipe it away.
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve accepted this.”
I ran my tongue ring back and forth against the backs of my teeth and shook my head. “I was supposed to die in that fire. I’m not even supposed to be here now. And she’s not lying. It’s not a mistake. I feel it, Em. I feel it every damn day. I’m dying.”
Emma caught a sob in her throat and slid her hand over mine, lacing our fingers. I let her. It felt too good not to.
“You are not going to die. I won’t let that happen.” She ran the back of her hand over her cheeks to wipe away the wetness.
I sat up and faced her. “Are you God? Yoda? Gandalf the Grey?”
Emma just stared back at me, clearly not amused.
“Then you don’t have any control over this,” I said. “So stop trying to fix it. Stop trying to fix me.”
Emma pressed her lips together, probably holding in an ocean of words she wanted to drown me with. She finally folded her hands in her lap and started messing with my pillowcase. That was one perk of being someone’s sidekick for this many years. She knew when to quit. She knew when to stop pushing.
I studied the outline of her profile in the moonlight and realized I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay mad at her. I didn’t want to. “Is Finn waiting for you?”
She shook her head. “No. He had to work late. He got a night job at that auto body shop in town.”
“Where is he staying now?” Please don’t say in your bed. Please, in a world of shittiness, just give me this.
“He got a little garage apartment,” she said. “The guy that owns the body shop is renting it to him until he can afford something better.”
As much as I hated it, I felt a little bad for the guy. It couldn’t be easy being thrown into a life where you had to start over from scratch. No family left alive. No money or friends. I stopped myself there. I wasn’t ready to go there yet. I didn’t want to like him. I scooted to the far edge of the bed and left enough space for Em. We didn’t have to say anything. It was understood. I didn’t want her to go. I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone right then. She kicked off her shoes and lay down beside me, pulling the cover up over us both.
“Do you love him?”
Emma blinked up at the ceiling. “Yes.”
“How much trouble will you be in for staying with me?”
She laughed a little. “My mom’s dating a cop now, remember? They’ll probably send a search party.”
“I meant with your boyfriend.”
“You can’t hate him forever,” she said. “He’s a part of my life now. He’s not going anywhere.”
I sighed. “I know that. But I’m not ready to like him, Em. Don’t ask me to.”
Emma lay silent beside me, her breaths causing her back to press against my side. She finally wiggled like she was uncomfortable and said, “What about me? Are you going to hate me forever?”
“I don’t hate you.” I turned over onto my side and tugged on a piece of her hair that was splayed across my pillow. It looked pale and shiny in the splash of moonlight coming through my window. So different from Anaya’s dark, silky braids. Wait…why was I thinking about Anaya again? I shut my eyes and sighed. “I love you too much to hate you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Enough to show me your boobs?” I grinned into the pillow when she elbowed me in the gut. The bed shook with our laughter. “Come on. Consider it my dying wish.”
“No!” Her smiled dimmed and I knew I’d screwed up by mentioning me dying again. “And you don’t get a dying wish, because I’m not letting you die. I’ll take care of you.”
“You’re always taking care of me,” I said. “Why?”
“Because you’re too stubborn to take care of yourself.” She smiled across the pillow at me and pulled the blanket up around her neck. “Now go to sleep, perv.”
“You going to stay?”
She patted my leg. “I’ll stay till you fall asleep.”
I stared at her fingers on my leg, and questions that had no place in my head bubbled to the surface. Questions I couldn’t ignore anymore. If I didn’t get them out, I was going to do something really stupid. Like kiss her. Words were going to work much better here.
“Can I ask you something without you getting pissed?” I asked, unable to stop myself from breathing in the scent of her hair all over my pillow. Asking her this could very well screw everything up between us beyond repair, but I had to know. If I didn’t I’d never be able to walk away from her. From the what might have beens. “Do you think you ever could have loved me if Finn hadn’t come along?”
She broke eye contact with me immediately, running her index finger over the pillow between us. “I already love you.”
I tugged her chin up. “You know what I mean, Em. Did any part of you ever wonder if we might end up together?”
Emma watched me silently for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip before finally saying, “Of course I could have loved you. But I’m with Finn now…I’m always going to be with Finn.”
I gritted my teeth and nodded. I didn’t really know what to say. Mostly because I didn’t know what I really wanted. I was so fucking confused my head hurt. All I knew for certain was that I wanted my best friend back. I didn’t feel like me without her. The other shit was just petty jealousy and noise. I needed to get the hell over it.
“Cash, you’re my best friend,” she pleaded. “Please don’t—”
“I know.” I closed my eyes. “I was just trying to… Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
I exhaled an achy breath, wondering if knowing was going to give me the closure I needed or just screw with my head even further. Instead of dwelling on it, I just said, “Good night, Em.”
I turned my face to the pillow and tensed, trying to ignore the shadow slithering up to perch at the foot of the bed. With Emma here and my eyes shut, things felt halfway normal again. They felt right. I didn’t want it to end.
“What’s wrong?” Emma turned over to look at me, afraid. “Are they here?”
Her arm curled around me protectively, as if she’d actually be able to do something if they decided to make a move. A flurry of darkness swept past the open window. I shut my eyes and grabbed her hand, forgetting about the awkwardness I’d created between us, and pulled her against my chest. “They’re always here.”
Chapter 8
Anaya
The Inbetween.
The place where souls came to be reborn. Or die.
I shivered as I approached the gates. It felt strange not having a soul in tow. I usually tried to avoid this place at all costs. And that usually wasn’t a problem, but since Finn had left, I found myself having to visit at least once a day. Only this time it was different. This time it wasn’t a soul that had brought me here.
I stepped up to the big iron gates and raised my chin at the hooded guard.
“No soul?�
�� he pushed his hood off, revealing a head full of dark curly hair, then pulled open the gates.
“No,” I said, breezing through. “Balthazar wishes to see me.”
His brows furrowed together and he nodded, as if he were sending me to my second funeral. Under normal circumstances, Balthazar would call a reaper in for a one-on-one meeting only if something had gone awry. Usually these meetings ended in punishment. These weren’t normal circumstances, though. No, if this turned out the way it was supposed to, I was getting a reward at the end of this journey. I could only hope that he was calling me in to tell me we were at the end.
I skirted past each hollow soul with ease, ducking under the shelter of shadow shapes to go unseen. As long as I didn’t make eye contact with any of them, I wouldn’t have to feel guilty for sending some of them here. There were too many children. Some souls were already approaching their ten-year mark. You could see the decay setting in. The madness was driving their transition into shadows. I couldn’t stand it.
Someone grabbed me and I flinched. Thin white fingers dug into my arm with a desperation I couldn’t fathom. A young girl emerged from the hemlock-shaped shadow and gazed up at me with dark eyes and feathery blond curls that she kept tucked behind her ears. The blackness had already eaten away the whites of her eyes, and whatever color they used to have.
“Y-you’re a Heaven’s reaper?” Her voice was all static.
I nodded, slowly.
“Help me,” she whispered. Her eyes darted around. “Please. You could take me across. I don’t belong here.”
Pain blossomed inside my chest. I wanted to. I would have given anything to take her hand and lead her home. But her chances of getting through those gates weren’t any better than mine. I looked down at the black spidery veins creating a road map up her arms and down her neck. No. Her chances were even worse. The darkness had already taken hold. She was beyond help.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, squeezing her hand.
Her eyes widened. “No! Please!”
“Anaya, dear.” A voice boomed from ahead. I jerked my hand away from the girl and turned around. The mist parted and revealed Balthazar, a light among the dreary darkness. He motioned for me to follow him. I fell into step behind him, my chest constricting with fear as he led me up the marble steps to the Great Hall. I’d never been inside. Few had, and the few that had never emerged. Balthazar lifted his hand and two mirrored doors swung open to allow us entrance.
Inside, the walls and floors were glass. Thousands of images flashed across their surface. Humans. Each in their last moments of life, in the cold grip of death. One by one the life left their eyes, and they were replaced by a new face. A new death. Balthazar cleared his throat, snatching my attention away from the images. He nodded and I followed him into an office. It was glass in there as well, with stars glowing behind every surface. Balthazar sank down in an oversize iron chair and settled his palms on a clear, shimmering table.
“How is the boy?” he asked.
“Fine,” I said, standing ramrod straight, trying to calm my nerves. It wasn’t easy to turn away from Cash’s soul. Which is why I hated this place so much. It was much easier to pretend that it all didn’t exist. “I’ve done as you’ve asked. He hasn’t been touched. The shadow demons are contained, but I need to know something. Can they hurt him in the state he’s in? I need to know what the dangers are here. I need to know what I’m dealing with.”
Balthazar’s gaze swept over me, scrutinizing, as if he were searching me for something. He finally leaned forward, clasping his hands together against the glass. “He’s rare, Anaya. The closer he gets to death, the more they are going to want him, for more reasons than one. If his soul gets close enough to the surface I suppose they could do some damage, but I doubt they will. He’s too valuable.”
“Why?” I asked. “What is he?”
Balthazar sighed, exasperated. “I don’t have time to answer questions that don’t concern you. Do you or do you not have this under control, Anaya?”
A droplet of fear trickled down my spine. A warning. “Yes.”
“I can always count on you to do as you’re told.” Balthazar smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s a great comfort to me.”
I almost laughed. Almost. He said it like it was a choice. None of us were fooled. This was no democracy he was running.
“Can you tell me how much longer?”
“In a hurry?” He raised a brow.
“No, I mean how much longer until I can bring the boy in,” I said. “I’m eager to see Tarik.”
I was also eager to end this poor boy’s torture and give him the everlasting peace he deserved, but I didn’t say that. I was ready for this sick experiment of Balthazar’s to end.
“I know it seems cruel to you, but it is a process that is necessary for him to become what he has always been meant to be. And we can’t rush that process now that it’s started. What I wanted to know has been proven. But I can’t end a life and neither can you. This is a waiting game now. A game you are going to have to win. His body is expired. He will perish. In the meantime, you need to gain his trust. I need this situation to stay free of complications. Can I count on you for that?”
I nodded and twisted the hem of my dress in my hands. “Of course. But wouldn’t it be easier if you just told me what you wanted him for?”
Balthazar looked off into the horizon outside the one enormous window that dominated one wall. The clouds parted at his command, and the frozen sunset set the fog on fire with an orange burst of color.
“Do you know what I don’t need, Anaya?” He raised an expectant brow. “I don’t need one of my most valued reapers in possession of knowledge that could very well get her dragged to the underworld for interrogation, then tossed aside as a chew toy for the demons of Hell. As your keeper, your commander, I am telling you to trust me. All will be revealed when the dangers have passed, but as of now, you are better off being kept in the dark. Do you understand?”
I simply nodded as I clutched my scythe. Fear washed through me, dousing my heat.
“Good.” He looked up and rubbed his chin. “Also, I thought I should warn you.”
“About what?” I stepped forward. The fog swam circles around my calves, leaving an icy imprint on my skin where my ankles were submerged. “There’s not a problem with my transition, is there? You promised when I was finished, that my debt would be paid. That I could cross.” I forced my lips to close around the rest of my words when he narrowed his gaze on me.
“A complication has arisen,” he said calmly. “Nothing to do with your…transition. It’s just something that’s going to make your job a little more difficult.”
I stepped back. How could this possibly get any more difficult?
“What is it?”
Balthazar sighed. “Another death, of course.”
He slid a gold tablet across the table toward me. His ledger. No one ever saw this ledger. And he was offering it to me like it was a boon. My eyes flitted up to meet his for assurance and he nodded for me to read. Letting my fingers rest a breath away from the tablet I began to drink in the words. Name after name. Death after death. I was just about to pull away when the familiar name made me stop. My fingers shook as I pulled them away and looked at Balthazar.
“No,” I said.
“Do I need to remind you how much I dislike that word?”
“But it’s not fair. It’s—”
Balthazar shot up from his chair and leaned across the table. His palms pressed into the glass. Frost began to crackle across the surface.
“Are you questioning me?” he growled.
I stuttered and took a step back, shaking my head. “N-no. Of course not.”
“Then I can trust you to handle this?”
I closed my eyes and images flashed behind my lids. This wasn’t right. On any level. But did I really have a choice? I opened my eyes and let them focus on Balthazar. The power rippled out around him like an electrical
current.
“Anaya?” he said. “Do I need to have someone else deal with this?”
I rested my palm over my scythe when its heat began to wage a war with the cold surrounding me.
“No,” I said. “I can handle it.”
It wasn’t often that I found myself searching for Easton. That probably explained the look on his face when he melted up from the black cloud base beneath him to find me calling his name. He twirled his scythe between his fingers like it was a six-shooter and shoved it back into the black holster at his side as he walked over, grinning.
“You rang?”
“Yes,” I said. “I need your help.” Easton’s violet eyes widened when I gripped his duster and pulled him under the shelter of a shadow.
“Oh, God,” he groaned. “What did you do now?”
“Why do you automatically jump to the conclusion that I did something?”
“Because you either dragged me in here to make out, or you screwed up again and you need me to get you out of it.” He raised a brow at me and folded his arms across his chest. “Something tells me it’s the latter.”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out, so I closed it again, trying to come up with a way to make this sound less bad than it actually was. When I realized there wasn’t a way to explain it like that, I sighed. I tucked a braid behind my ear and averted my gaze. “Well, it certainly isn’t the first one.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Easton said. “So what is it this time?”
“He touched me, Easton. Touched me.”
“The human?” I nodded and Easton cursed under his breath and stalked away before coming back, eyes blazing. “I told you this would happen. Did you not learn anything from Finn’s mistakes?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose! He touched me when I was in soul form, like it didn’t mean anything for him. He just laid his fingers on me and…forced me into corporeality. Do you have any idea how this is even possible?”
“Maybe.” Easton grabbed the back of his neck and looked around. “I’ve heard of something like this.”