Part 22 (2/2)

I back away, but Raven pulls me forward. ”You are going to have fun tonight whether you like it or not.”

Shaking my head, I trudge after her. The skeleton jumps up and shrieks at us as we pa.s.s it. Raven speeds up, laughing, and I sneeze from the hay. The farther we go, the more scarce the lights get, until there are none left and we're smothered by blackness.

Someone screams and a warm mist dampens my skin. A recording of a laugh turns on, followed by a deep growl.

”Raven,” I hiss. ”I want to go back.”

Her hand falls from mine and she laughs. ”Last one to the end's a rotten egg.”

I stumble around in the dark with my hands sprawled out in front of me. ”Raven, where are you?”

Behind me a light clicks on, highlighting a graffiti wall. I lower my hands as another light turns on and emphasizes a chain link floor-length gate in front of me. I push through the gate and step into the next section, which is lined wall-to-wall with mirrors. The gate slams shut behind me. I whirl around, threading my fingers through the links, jerking it fiercely.

The gate won't budge, so I walk vigilantly up the slender hall between the mirrored walls. ”Raven, please tell me where you are. This isn't funny anymore.”

I hear her laugh from somewhere and the lights flash off, then on. A man appears at the end of the hall, with dark hair, kohl-lined eyes, black jeans, and a T-s.h.i.+rt. A giant X brands his forehead.

I squint through the blinking lights that reflect blindingly against the mirrors. ”Laden?”

”h.e.l.lo, Ember.” He smiles. ”Long time, no see.”

I back up quickly, but crash into a solid figure. A thousand deaths pour through me: pain, terror, falling, drowning, fire, pain, pain, pain. I buckle forward, but he grasps my arm, rotates it behind my back, and reels me to face him.

Garrick's greasy hair s.h.i.+nes in the light and he scratches the X on his eye. ”You're not playing the game right, do you know that? You're not answering every question we ask and you're not giving in. It's very disappointing.”

”We,” I say, hoping to throw him off. ”As in the Anamotti.”

His face remains stoic. ”What? You think that surprised me? The bigger question that I think needs answering is who are the Anamotti? And who leads us?”

”I don't know what you're getting at.” I try to wrench my arm away.

His fingernails dig into my skin. ”Oh I think you do. It's the perfect crime, you know. Telling the person you're after about the group who is chasing after her, when really you are part of it. Earning her trust, so she'll never see it coming.”

”Asher isn't after me.” I choke. ”He wouldn't do that.”

”What, lie?” A sly grin creeps over his face. ”Or try to kill you? How do you think he showed up so fast that night at the lake after I ran into you? And how do you think we knew you were going to be here tonight?”

I writhe out of his grip and back up, peeking over my shoulder at Laden, grinning as blood drips down his forehead and onto the floor. ”I'm not an angel. And that's what the Anamotti want, right? Angels?”

”Not just any angel, but a Grim Angel.” Garrick matches my steps and slants in, putting his face close to mine. ”I think deep down you know what you are. The Grim Angel, the one that holds the balance of the Reapers and the Angels of Death. The one that carries death with her all the time. The one that will easily crack and lose the balance with their mind. It's in your blood, you know-the insanity.”

He lunges for my throat and I knee him between the legs. His face screws in pain as he crumples to the floor. I dart around him and throw myself against the fence. The metal slices open my palms and forces me to let go. I land on my b.u.t.t, but scramble to my feet and spin around, ready to protect myself. But Garrick and Laden have vanished.

I give the fence a few more shakes, but a padlock on the other side secures it. It hits me: I've walked into a trap. And honestly, I don't know what waits for me at the end. I take a deep breath and hurry down the hallway of mirrors. There is a fork at the end, and I select the right, tiptoeing quietly. Strands of hay flutter in my hair and send me into a sneezing frenzy.

”Ember,” Garrick's voice touches my ear. ”Don't breathe.”

I take off down the hall, my legs struggling as I tear around the corner. His footsteps barrel after me and his laugh echoes forcefully down the hall.

”Ember,” he says. ”Come out, come out wherever you are.”

As I sprint around a sharp corner, my feet trip over something weighty and solid. My body slams to the floor. I quickly flip over to my back and glance back at what made me fall. A person, face down. I crawl over to them and turn them on their back.

Laden's dead eyes stare at me. His pale decomposing skin is ice-cold and the X is an older wound. He's been dead for a while. I think back to my tree with his body hanging in it, and the one I saw in the library. Is this even real?

Garrick's voice drifts compellingly down the hall. ”It's hard to tell, isn't it? What's real and what's not. Tell me Ember, does it ever feel like you're losing your mind?”

I leap to my feet, hop off of Laden, and run. Sweat drips down my skin as I accelerate. The school's side entrance door finally comes into view and I can almost taste my freedom. I reach for the door handle, but a hay bale lands on me like the weight of a bag of bricks. My head smacks the tile and the crack of my bones is stomach-churning.

Garrick squats down in front of me. ”Ever heard the term 'Don't Fear the Reaper'? Well, it's a little misleading.” He swathes the hood of a cloak over his head. ”Because everyone fears death, Ember. Even Death itself.” Then he pulls out a knife and cuts an X across my forehead.

Chapter 19.

I open my eyes to the pieces of the stars and a glimpse of the moon. I attempt to roll onto my stomach, but a rope restrains each of my wrists to a tree and my legs are tied to each other. Out of the corner of my eyes, I spot a fire. Feathers and rose petals halo around my head. The wings are still secured to my back, but are bent to conform to the pressure of my body.

”h.e.l.lo,” I call out tentatively. ”Is anyone here?”

A woman with a sharp nose and blonde hair woven in a bun appears in my line of vision. ”h.e.l.lo, Ember. It's so nice of you to join us.”

My eyes narrow. ”Detective Crammer.”

”Feel like you're going crazy yet?” The fire glows in her blue eyes and shadows the area underneath her defined cheekbones, so she looks almost skeletal. ”Like you don't know what's real?”

”So you're part of the Anamotti,” I say, winding the rope around my wrist to gain more control. ”Or are you a Grim Reaper?”

Her thin lips nearly vanish as she smiles. She retrieves a knife from the pocket of her jacket. It's small with a silver handle and a sharp tip. Putting the tip of it to my forehead, she pierces it into my skin and blood rivers out like a leaky faucet. ”The Anamotti and the Reapers are one in the same. The Anamotti is just what we go by in the human world to help us stay undetected.” She gestures around her like she's a queen and a group of people announce their presence by stepping out of the trees. ”All of us are Reapers here. Even you.” She smiles wickedly. ”Partly anyway.”

All of them wear a uniform of black cloaks, but their hoods are off, hanging down their backs and showing me their human form. Some of them are unfamiliar, but I recognize Garrick, who mockingly waves at me and winks.

And the sight of a pink-haired girl bruises my heart. ”Raven.”

She grins dreamily at me and her sapphire eyes are dazed, like she's drunk. ”I'm so sorry, Em. I didn't mean to do it. I just couldn't seem to help myself.”

Madness p.r.i.c.ks at my brain. I tug on the ropes until my wrists rupture open and blood spills out all over my hands, the rope, and the dirt.

”Oh relax for Christ's sake.” Detective Crammer draws the knife down my cheek and splits open my face. ”She's under the spell of the Reaper because, unlike you, she's human and can be possessed by him.”

Raven moves forward from the crowd, but Beth thrusts out her hand, barricading her back. ”Stay back, you little trollop. You are still to obey my orders.”

Raven blinks and steps back. ”I'm so sorry.”

”Raven,” I beg, trying to make eye contact with her. ”Don't listen to her. Run away! Now!”

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