Part 11 (2/2)

”No, I said you should call him and find out if he likes you. And obviously he doesn't, since he hasn't called back.” Her lips curl to a smile. ”And now you have tall, blonde, and s.e.xy wanting you.”

”It's just a date.” I write the word solitude on my wall and then below it: Do you know me at all? Are my words just air? Is my heart easy to spare? ”I don't have him.”

She slants up on her elbows and scowls at my words. ”Why did you just write that?”

I shrug and circle the words: you, are, my, and heart. ”Why do I write anything?”

She leaps off the bed, steals the marker from my hands, and traces over the letters until the words transform into a small sketch of an intricate angel. She clicks the cap on and hands the marker to me. ”There. That's much better.”

We grow silent and she gathers her purse from the bed. ”I'm going to take off. Call me tomorrow before you go on your big date. And wear something s.e.xy.” She eyes my clothes and slips out into the hallway.

I drop down on the bed and pick up the romance novel from my nightstand. Each and every page has me pulling faces. It's a relief when my phone rings. I chuck the book aside and grab my phone off the dresser.

I yawn and stretch out my arms. ”h.e.l.lo.”

”Hey, it's me,” Asher says.

A pause.

”You haven't been at school,” I finally say. ”Were you sick or something? You ran off so quickly after Garrick, umm... tried to hurt Raven and I.”

”I was... Look, Ember, can we talk about this in person?”

”Umm... is this about the message Raven left you?”

”Kind of.” He speaks cautiously. ”But there's also something I want to show you.”

”Sure,” I tell him. ”What time are you going to be here?”

His somber tone doesn't alleviate the tension. ”Can I pick you up in like fifteen minutes?”

I tell him yes and we say goodbye. I pull my black vest over my red and black striped top and lose the arm warmers. Then I wait for Asher on the living room couch, trying not to get too pumped up about seeing him. Ian's not at home and I haven't seen my mom since she told me I'd turn into a killer like my dad. But that happens when she drinks a lot. My dad wasn't a killer. He liked his bar fights, and did some questionable things, but he never sent anyone to their grave.

I turn on the TV, but the satellite's been disconnected. ”Did she forget to pay the bill again?” I dial my mom's cell, but it sends me straight to voicemail. I hang up and search the cabinet drawers for the bill. There are stacks and stacks of papers, batteries, tacks, pens, but no bills.

Suddenly the lights flip off and the house suffocates in darkness, except for the faint cast of the outside light filtering through the curtains.

”Okay... did she forget to pay the power bill too?” I fumble through the drawer and pull out a flashlight. I s.h.i.+ne the light around the room as I walk toward the front door. The floorboards creak under my feet and I can hear heavy breathing.

I'm not alone.

My boot catches on something solid and I fall flat on my face. The flashlight flies out of my hand and rolls across the floor. My legs tangle with something and the silence of their body is more frightening than if I felt their death.

”Asher?” I squint through the dark down at my legs.

A dark figure slowly rises from the floor. The head is enormous, its arms long, and its body stretches to the ceiling. A cape flows to the ground and armors its face. Nope, not Asher.

”Ember,” it breathes, reaching for me. ”Don't be afraid. You know I'd never hurt you.”

”You stay the h.e.l.l away from me.” I flip over onto my stomach, taking out the table. I scramble to my feet and sprint across the room for the flashlight. I scoop it up and spin around, sweeping the light across the room.

But he's gone.

I back for the door, sliding my phone out of my pocket. I dial Ian's number. ”Come on, come on, come-”

The doorbell rings. Startled, I drop my phone on the floor and the back pops off. I s.n.a.t.c.h up the pieces and quickly throw open the door.

Asher looks s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. His inky black hair dangles in his gorgeous slate eyes and the sleeves of his plaid s.h.i.+rt are pushed up, showing off his lean arms. My eyes stray down lower, to where his jeans ride low on his hips, and I picture myself trailing kisses down his abs.

d.a.m.n Raven and her dirty books. They're messing with my head.

He s.h.i.+elds his eyes with his hands. ”Do you blind every guy that shows up on your porch?” he jokes.

I click off the flashlight and toss it on the end table. ”Sorry, the power went out.”

I shut the door behind me as I step outside. We walk silently to his car and get in. Through my living room window, the caped visitor watches me and I can't seem to take my eyes off him.

Asher turns the stereo down and rotates in his seat to face me. ”Is something wrong?” He tracks the course of my gaze. ”What are you looking at? Did you forget to turn something off?”

I tear my attention away from the house. Away from him. ”No, everything's good. So what did you want to show me?”

He grins as he backs down the driveway. ”It's a surprise.”

I try to be happy, but I'm severely distracted by the return of an old friend, the Grim Reaper. The last time he showed up, he ruined my life.

Chapter 10.

I first met the mysterious cloaked creature when I went to live with my dad. I named him the Grim Reaper, but only because he looked like Death. When I was little, I thought he was my imaginary friend because no one could see him but me. After he vanished from my life, he reappeared once, right before my dad vanished. He told me my dad was going to die within minutes. I panicked and called the cops, telling them Patrick Edwards was about to die. It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life and put me under high suspicion.

I watch the trees blur by, trying to convince myself that I didn't see the Grim Reaper, that he was just a figment of my imagination. The sky is masked with darkness and the fields and yards are shadows.

”Are you sure you're okay?” Asher drives down the main road toward the outskirts of town. ”You seem a little distracted tonight.”

”What?” I turn away from the window.

Asher sighs. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he reaches over and takes my hand. ”You're probably wondering where I've been for the last few days and why I ran off after that thing with that man who had the X on his eye.”

”You mean Garrick,” I clarify.

He entwines our fingers and tranquility envelops my over-thinking brain. Suddenly, my Grim Reaper and my Death problem are insignificant.

Asher asks, ”Do you know Garrick?”

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