Part 24 (1/2)
Cameron has Asher restrained on the gra.s.s and is clutching at his throat. ”Tell me, Angel boy, what has it been like being alone all this time? Apparently pretty bad for you to be breaking the rules.”
I squeeze my eyes and stop short of them. ”I want you to go away, Cameron.” It hurts to say it, like a vine of thorns inside my veins.
Silence enfolds and I crack open my eyelids. Cameron is still on top of Asher, but his hand is hanging lifelessly at his side. ”Don't say things you don't mean, Ember Rose,” he advises. ”Think about the last time you wished me away.”
”I want you gone,” I demand in a steady voice. ”I don't want death haunting me anymore.”
”You can't get rid of death, princess,” he says sorrowfully. ”Death is endless.”
It frightens me how much his words match mine. ”Then I guess I will outrun it for as long as I can.”
Cameron climbs off Asher and dusts the dirt and gra.s.s off his hands. He lowers the hood of his cloak, so I'm looking directly at him, not the Reaper. ”You know I only did it to bring you to me. I only push so you'll give in to me, not to the others.”
My heart thumps in my chest as he stops in front of me. His blonde hair glows palely in the moonlight and sadness caves his eyes, like the first time I saw him.
”Why were you really here that night?” I ask, with a s.h.i.+ver. ”When I saw you digging up the grave?”
His fingers twitch, longing to touch me. ”I already told you, looking for a family jewel.” He gently touches the tip of his finger to the hollow of my neck. ”Turns out you had it.”
”My grandma's necklace...” I trail off, confused. ”Why do you want it?”
He smiles miserably. ”And I'm sorry I took it, but I had to. Besides, it wasn't yours to have in the first place. It belongs to my family.”
”Then why did my grandma have it?”
”Because she stole it from us.”
My eyes widen. ”Cameron, tell me-”
He shushes me with his finger across my lips. ”I don't want to talk about that right now. I want to talk about you and me.”
”There is no you and...” My eyes digress to Asher, lying in the gra.s.s, encompa.s.sed by black feathers. ”Did you kill him?”
”He can't die, princess.” Cameron frowns. ”Unfortunately.”
”Why did you kill Mackenzie? And Laden. And I'm guessing Farrah is probably on the list too.” My legs beg me to run, but my desire to know the truth overpowers.
”I didn't kill Laden. Asher did,” he says. ”And Mackenzie and Farrah died from the same human's hand, not mine. And if you listened closely to her story, you probably could figure out the culprit.”
”Her dad?”
He shrugs. ”That's for you to figure out, if you want to. I just collect the souls. And I'll admit, I didn't try to stop Mackenzie's death. I wanted her to suffer for all the times she was rude to you.”
His misconstrued logic is a puzzle to me. ”That's the craziest thing I've ever heard.”
”I know you don't understand.” He cups my cheek, emitting both ecstasy and sheer terror throughout me. ”But that day when I saw you in the cemetery, I knew I had to have you and that I would hurt anyone that ever caused you pain.”
”Your little friends,” I point over my shoulder at the forest, ”hurt me. Do you know about that?”
”I can't help that without breaking more rules. But it can all be over if you want it to be. All you have to do is agree to be with me-want to be with me. And then I'm allowed to help you.”
”And what? Become a Grim Reaper and start collecting souls and killing people?”
”There's more to it than that,” he says, his eyes blazing. ”More to you than what you realize and you're in for a rough and painful life until you realize that. But it can all be over if you'll just give in to your Reaper blood.”
I compress my hands into fists, and will myself to deny his request, even though a small part of me wants it. ”I'm telling you to leave, just like I did when I was four.”
His face falls and his eyes flash with anger. Lightening zaps across the sky, but I refuse to look away. ”Is that what you really want, Ember?”
I swallow the refusal building in my throat and make myself want it. ”That's what I want.”
He bites down on his lip so hard blood drips down his chin. Then he cups the back of my head and pulls me in for a rough kiss. I taste the blood on his lips, the foul darkness of death, but a flicker of something substantial is hidden deep inside him, like a seed in the center of an apple.
He releases me, breathing fervently. ”I'll pay for that one forever.” He backs toward the gates, his eyes locked on me. ”They'll come for you-the rest of the Reapers. They won't stop until they get you to crack.”
”Then I'll tell them to go away too.”
”That won't work on them, sweetheart,” he says gravely as he sinks farther into the shadows. ”The Anamotti aren't quite as easy-going as me.” Then with a swish of his cloak, he alters, sprouting wings and shrinking into a raven. He circles around my head, before disappearing into the night sky.
My body aches to fly away with him, be free, shed my skin, become one with the night.
Asher makes a noise and I rush for him. ”Are you okay?” I ask, not daring to touch him.
His s.h.i.+rt is torn from his cuts, and bruises cover his beautiful pale chest. His black hair is disheveled, his lip is split, and his striking feather wings are crooked, the feathers scarce.
”I'm fine,” he a.s.sures me with a weak smile.
I crouch down in front of him. ”Does it... does it hurt?”
His eyes unite with mine, zealous and hungry. ”Nothing could hurt at this moment. You just sent him away.”
”I've sent him away before.” I brush stray feathers from his arms and then rest my hand in the curve of his shoulder, feeling his warmth. ”But he came back.”
”I know.” His hand finds my hip. ”And he'll find a way to keep coming back until you completely surrender to him-they all will.”
”What did you do to them?” I ask. ”The other Reapers-the Anamotti. Detective Crammer or whoever she is?”
”She's a Reaper-all the Anamotti are. They're the Reapers who have banded together to eliminate the Grim Angels, even though it's forbidden to touch them. And I took care of them, for the moment, but they'll be back.”
I note his hands on my hips, wondering if he's allowed to touch me. ”You mean, until they make me lose my sanity.”
He nods, his eyes never parting from me. ”That's the point of all this, yes. We are all cursed to this world until you do.”
My knees sink to the ground. ”Cursed?”
”Our curse to this world,” he explains. ”It's our punishment for our part in the Battle of Death. The Angels of Death and the Grim Reapers are bound to the earth by the existence of the Grim Angel. And it's only the Grim Angel that can free one of us back to our homes.”
”But aren't the Grim Angels supposed to create balance, so no one can steal souls?” I ask.
”They are, but they will break the balance. The Reapers have been working to weed out every Grim Angel that exists, until there is only one left standing. And that one is the one that will have to pa.s.s the test. If they can live their life enduring the Reaper and Angel blood, then the Angels of Death will gain back their power over the souls and be freed from earth. If they give in to the insanity of the Reapers, then the Reapers gain control over the souls.”