Spark X

  Unknown: For safety purposes. You can never be too safe anymore.

  I pause. The whole thing seems extremely sketchy.

  Unknown: If u want the answers to the curse and how to end this all and to know what the et furabatur de Anima tenebroso is, meet me in Central Park in one hour.

  When Asher exits the bathroom with a cloud of steam following him, I’m still staring at the screen, confused as hell.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, picking up his boots from the floor.

  “August Millard texted and said he’d meet me, but…” I shake my head, clutching the phone. “The whole thing seems odd.”

  “Let me see.” He sits down beside me and I hand him the phone. When he reads the messages over, he frowns. “Why is he even texting? Didn’t you call him?”

  “I did, but he didn’t answer, so I left a message. Then he sent a text back. The strange thing is I didn’t really tell him what we wanted to talk about. Like the et furabatur de Anima tenebroso...I don’t know how he knew I wanted to find out more about that.”

  He tousles his fingers through his hair, pushing damp strands out of his eyes. “I don’t like it. The whole thing is strange.”

  “Me, neither, but…”

  Our gazes collide.

  “But what?” he presses.

  “Well, the book didn’t really help us figure out how to free the souls, so August might be our only option at the moment. And he said he knows how to end the curse, so…”

  “I’ll look through the book some more.” He wiggles his foot into a boot. “I don’t want to meet this guy after the strange texts, not unless it’s our last option.”

  “Okay, but…”

  “Something happened while I was in the shower, didn’t it?”

  I nod guiltily. “Cameron showed up, and he … took the book. I’m so sorry. I should have watched him more closely.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Asher’s head falls forward. “Goddammit, why does he have to be such a pain in the ass?”

  “I don’t know … I wonder what he wanted it for, though. The other night, when the words first appeared on the pages, he seemed interested in something, but I’ve read almost all of it, and I don’t know what it would be.”

  “Me, neither,” he agrees, bringing his foot up on the bed to lace up his boot.

  “So, what do we do?” I ask, hoping he has a backup plan.

  He shrugs, unzipping the duffel bag with his clothes in it. “I’ll go meet this August guy and see what he knows. If it’s nothing, we can go to my mother for help. Although, that might be about as painful as getting information from Cameron.”

  “You think she knows how to free possessed souls?”

  “She was in love with a Reaper, so I’m guess she does. Whether she’ll tell us or not is a whole different story.” He digs a small knife from the bag, tucks it in his boot, and then fastens a studded belt in his jeans. When I eye the knife’s silver handle poking out of his boot, he shrugs. “I just want to be on the safe side.”

  “Okay.” I shake off the uneasy feeling twisting in the pit of my stomach and focus on the problem at hand. “There’s just one problem with your plan.”

  “Well, there’s a ton of problems with my plan, but which one are you referring to?”

  “August Millard saying that I had to meet him by myself.”

  “You’re not meeting him at all.” He fishes his phone from his pocket. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to risk letting you meet this guy. You’re too important to me. I’d leave you here, but I don’t want to leave you alone when you have almost every Reaper out there looking for you.”

  I bite on my lip as he types something on his phone. “What are you doing now?”

  “I’m searching August Millard so I can see what he looks like.” He squints at the screen, and then his expression sinks. “Okay, well, now I’m really fucking curious to meet this guy and see what he knows.”

  I peer over his shoulder and look at the photo on the screen of an older man with grey hair and thick glasses. “He looks harmless.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” Asher mutters. “He may look old, but he’s not harmless in the least little bit.”

  “You say that like you know him.”

  “That’s because I do.” He stuffs his phone into his pocket, faces me, and places his hands on my hips. “August Millard is a banished Angel. I should have known better, with all the information he knows about the battle and Grim Reapers.”

  My eyes snap wide. “A banished Angel?”

  He nods then laces our fingers and leads me toward the doorway. “You’re still not allowed to meet him, not until I figure out which side he’s on, but this could work in our favor. His information could really help us, and he might even be able to give us some insight on exactly what’s going to happen when you make your choice. Or when the fuck it’s going to happen.”

  I grasp onto his hand as he opens the door. “Wouldn’t he be on the Angels’ side since he is one?”

  “You’d think it’d be that simple, but it’s not. Banished Angels are no longer tightly linked to other Angels. They have more freewill to choose where their allegiance lies, and with the grudge they have for being banished…” He shrugs. “Well, it gives them a reason to form ties with Reapers as payback. It also can have the opposite effect. They can pretty much want to kiss ass with Michael and sometimes become his little puppet.”

  “You seem to know a lot about this,” I say as we step out into the dim hallway.

  “That’s because I’ve thought about it,” he explains as we stop in front of the elevators.

  “You thought about going to the Reaper’s side?” I ask as he pushes the down button. “Or being Michael’s little puppet?”

  “Going to the Reaper side. It was right after I was banished.” The doors swing open, and we step inside. “It was only a brief thought and was mainly based on my bitterness. I realized two seconds after I thought it that there was no way I could do it … no way that I was that evil.”

  If only it was that easy to know if I was good or bad.

  The fog lifts from the water,

  Revealing the crystal blue sky on the horizon,

  Waiting to be touched.

  The feather fights against the waves,

  Moving for the sunlight,

  Knowing that, once it gets there,

  It will be nothing more than dust.

  Chapter 9

  Ember

  After taking a cab to the park to meet August Millard, Asher makes me hide out behind a cluster of leafy trees about a hundred yards away from the bench he’s sitting on. He has a hood pulled over his head to keep his identity hidden, and his head is ducked down low. Between the distance and the abundance of people around, I can barely see him, and it makes me nervous.

  I peer around the park, searching for August in the sea of bodies. The sun is shining, but the tree branches cast a shadow on me. A slight breeze nips at my skin, and I curse myself for wearing shorts and no jacket. I sit down and hug my knees to my chest to try to keep warm, making sure I still have a clear view of Asher.

  Fifteen minutes drift by, and August is still a no show. Another ten minutes pass, and he’s officially over a half an hour late. I’m about to step out from behind the tree and signal at Asher that we should go when an older man with grey hair and glasses comes hurrying up a path toward the bench.

  He’s hunched over and carrying a book in his arms. I keep my eyes trained on him as he dodges around people and gives the occasional glance around at the grass and trees. He’s nervous, that much I can tell, which makes me that much more uneasy.

  As August nears Asher, he slows down. His eyes sweep the area again and I swear his gaze lingers on the tree I’m hiding behind. With a glance back down at the path, he walks the rest of the way until he reaches the bench. Then he sits down on the opposite end from Asher and places the book on his lap. Asher turns his head, draws his hood down, and says something, causing Au
gust to scoot away and jump to his feet.

  I tense, desperately wishing I could hear what they’re saying. I almost move out from the trees, but then I freeze when a sense of dread rolls over my body. The wind howls as the scent of death fills the air, and I shiver.

  A Reaper is nearby.

  Pushing to my feet, I skim the trees, bushes, and people, looking for a cloaked figure amongst them. I can’t see one, but the scent of death in the air grows thicker and more potent.

  “There has to be one here.” I start to move out from behind the tree when I see a Reaper pushing out of the midst of an oblivious crowd, and a girl with bright pink hair trails at his heels.

  Holy shit.

  “Raven,” I mutter then rush out from behind the tree, needing to warn Asher.

  Two steps out, a hand slaps down on my mouth, and I’m hauled back behind the tree.

  “Don’t,” Cameron hisses hotly in my ear. “You’ll risk everyone’s lives if you go out there.”

  I struggle to catch my breath as he pushes me firmly against him.

  “I’m going to let you go,” he whispers, “and you’re going to wait here until he’s gone. Then you’ll go to him. When you get to him, ask August about the osculum vitae. Now nod if you understand.”

  I bob my head up and down, and his hand leaves my mouth. I reel around only to find him gone, just like when he warned me about my father’s death. A warning before he left to go collect my father’s soul. Is that what this is? Is Asher going to die? Is Cameron supposed to collect his soul? But why? Asher isn’t a Reaper. Shouldn’t his soul belong to the Angels? Unless…

  Unless Altarius sent him to steal it because Asher truly is his son, and he wants his soul for his power. Did Altarius set up his death right now? Asher said there were only a few ways to kill an immortal. If anyone knows those ways, it’s the leader of the Reapers.

  Fear and pain pump venomously through my veins as I dash to the edge of the tree. My heart thrashes against my chest, and my stomach churns as I glance at the bench. The Reaper and Raven are gone, Asher is lying on the ground, and August is leaning over him.

  I start to run for him, but instantly slam against a hard surface and trip backwards. I land on my ass with a grunt as someone steps in front of me. Tipping my chin, I track my gaze up a pair of thigh high boots, a skin-tight red dress, and finally a pair of blue eyes.

  “Raven.” I push my heels against the dirt and try to skitter backwards, but she stomps her heel on my shin, causing blinding pain to shoot up my skin.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” She digs her heel in deep and smiles down at me. “We’ve been looking all over for you.” She twists a strand of her bubble gum pink hair around her finger. “Or, well, we were until Altarius realized what a waste of time it was.” She touches her finger to her forehead and I detect the faintest scar in the shape of an X. “Turns out your soul everyone was so excited to get their hands on isn’t that fantastic.” She tips her head to the side and studies me. “I could have told them that, though. How boring you were growing up. Never taking risks. Always so closed off.” She shakes her head, and her face twists with disgust. “When Altarius first told me you were this special Grim Angel who’s supposed to decide the fate of the world, I thought he was fucking kidding me. Seriously, how could someone as pathetic as you be special?”

  I have to remind myself this isn’t my best friend. The person looking down at me is merely a shell of Raven and nothing more.

  “Tell me, Ember.” She puts all her weight on the heel jabbing into my skin. “How did you get both Cameron and Asher to fall in love with you? Do Grim Angels know how to control minds?” A malicious smile curls at her lips. “I bet they do. That’s the only way someone like them could fall in love with someone like you.”

  Grinding my teeth, I bring my free leg up and slam the heel of my boot into her stomach. She grunts in pain and staggers back, gripping her side.

  “You bitch!” She regains her footing and charges at me. I am already to my feet, though, and prepared for what I need to do.

  “You want to know what Grim Angels do?” I ask, sticking my hands out and seizing hold of her wrists.

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, look at you, so tough. You weren’t so tough when I had your brother with me, possessed at my side. Tell me, Ember, how does it feel to know your entire family is gone, and you did nothing to stop it?”

  Piercing my nails into her flesh, I jerk her toward me until her lips are a sliver of space away. “I’m going to stop it … I won’t let evil win.”

  She lets out a cackle, throwing her head back, out of her damn mind. Giving myself no time to back out, I eliminate the space between us and firmly seal my lips to hers. She gasps against my mouth and writhes her body in attempt to get away. I secure my grip on her, holding on with all my strength as I sip the life from her lips. I take it slowly, knowing if I go too fast, I’ll lose control and end up killing her. Even though she’s not my best friend right now, the last thing I want to do is kill her.

  The taste of death

  Sprinkled across my lips

  Like a drug,

  Heroin filling my veins,

  Scorching my flesh,

  A hidden flame inside my body,

  A craving locked away,

  Buried beneath the darkness

  Of my own self-created grave.

  Red consumes my body, my eyes filling with blood. More! Take more!

  I jerk back from Raven’s lips, release her wrists, and her slackened body slumps to the ground. I crouch, press two fingers to her pulse, and sigh in relief at the feel of her heart still beating. Other than her skin being a little pale and the fact that she’s passed out, I think she’ll be okay. In fact, if I can get Asher’s help, then maybe we can drag her back to the hotel and tie her up until she’s not possessed.

  Wait … Asher. The last time I saw him he was dead on the ground…

  “Oh, my God.” My eyes widen as I spring to my feet and sprint across the grass, moving faster than I ever have before.

  I won’t let this end like it did with my father. I’ll save Asher, no matter what.

  Please don’t let him be dead.

  Please let him be okay.

  He’s immortal. He has to be okay.

  Only when I reach him does the full reality of the situation sink in, like a thousand knives plunging into my body. Asher not only has been stabbed, but also sucked dry of life. His eyes are hollow, his pupils are massive, and black lines map his skin. His chest isn’t moving, and when I check for a heartbeat, there isn’t one.

  “Oh, my God…no…no…no…” I collapse to my knees beside him and lift his head in my lap. “No…no…no… You can’t be dead.” My heart constricts, and the air is ripped from my lungs. “Asher, please open your eyes. This can’t be right. I can’t…” Hot tears spill from my eyes. “I can’t make my choice if you’re not here … because there’s no one else.”

  The words crash into the air and shatter everything I ever believed about myself. I love Asher. I’m in love with Asher, and if he lives, eventually I’ll have to kill him.

  When I was younger, I once asked my father how he knew he loved my mother. He said he knew he loved her when my mother and him were in a car accident. For a while, he thought she was going to die and realized he’d give up anything—even his own life—if she could live. At the time, I didn’t understand how he could possibly want to die just to save another person. Now I understand. I understand more than I ever wanted to.

  I run my hand over Asher’s head as tears stream from my eyes. “What’s an osculum vitae?” I snap at August. When he remains silent, I force a more firm tone. “Tell me what it is.”

  His eyes are round through his lenses as he gapes at me. “You’re the—”

  I lean in toward him and drop my voice to a tone edged with warning “I don’t have time for this.” My Reaper side rises and singes under my flesh. This time, I welcome it. “If you don’t tell me what it is, I’
ll slit your throat. Do you understand?”

  August’s eyes pop wide in horror, and he swiftly nods. “It’s the process of giving life to the dead.” Ripping his gaze off me, he dives for a thin book on the ground. He flips it open to a page and moves it in front of me. “The osculum vitae is kind of like when you suck the death from someone, but with the opposite effect.”