“She’s already made her choice.” She takes a swallow of the coffee then scoots the cup aside and slides the knife across the table toward me. “I came here because Michael wanted me to warn you that it’s time. The choice needs to be made, and he’s already arranged for Altarius to meet him on the hill where the curse was first sealed.”
I stare at the silver-handled knife in front of me, wondering if it’ll be the thing that finally kills me.
“How did he get Altarius to agree to go there? I thought he was in rebellion against the curse?”
“Oh, he is,” she assures me, pushing her chair back from the table. “But he promised him something he couldn’t refuse.”
“And what’s that?”
“You and the Grim Angel.” She sighs as I gape at her. “It’s called bait, Asher. And, in twenty-four hours, you and Ember are going to be just that.” She covers the knife with her hand and grazes her thumb along the jagged blade. “This is for the sacrifice. It has the power of the immortal remotionem in it so it can kill you. It’s up to you now to make sure Ember’s ready.” She collects her purse from the back of the chair and slings it over her shoulder. “And, Asher, I’m proud of the man you’ve become. In a way, you made my banishment worth it.”
It’s probably the nicest thing she has ever said to me, but it doesn’t make me like her more. She’s still the woman who abandoned Cameron and I and pushed Cameron toward the dark side.
“Mom…?” I stumble over the foreign word. “What happens to Ember after this is all over?”
“If she makes the right choice, she’ll be free from her curse.”
“And she’ll live?”
She nods, winding around the table. “As long as everything goes well, she’ll return to the mortal world and live the course of her life.”
She kisses the top of my head like I’m a child then leaves with the Angels following at her heels. I hear her snap something about them needing to back off, and I start to wonder if she didn’t come here willingly. Perhaps Michael made her come to get me to convince Ember and make sure I understand that I need to die for the curse to work.
I’m not afraid of death. I’ve been waiting for it for a long time after growing tired of being immortal. The hardest part is that Ember is going to have to live her life knowing she killed me. That kind of a burden will weigh on her deeply.
I need to find a way to make her understand that what she’s doing is for the best. That she’s not really taking my life, but freeing me somehow.
Chapter 14
Ember
Two hours after Cameron vanishes, the room door swings open, and Asher walks in, looking beaten down and emotionally drained. He has a knife in his hand and a weary look on his face, but then he takes one look around the room, and his face reddens.
“He left you?” He shakes his head and mutters something under his breath. “I don’t know why I’m surprised.”
“It’s okay.” I shut the notebook filled with my poetry, scramble off the bed, and hurry up to him. “I think he left for a good reason.”
“There’s no good reason to leave you alone.”
“I think he’s going to free the souls.”
Asher misses a beat. “I’m sorry, but … That doesn’t seem very plausible, Ember. For starters, I can’t see him sacrificing himself like that.” He draws a knife out of his pocket and sets it down on the table. “And I’m still not sure I believe his theory on our souls being able to take the place of yours.”
“I’m not positive, either.” I lace my fingers through Asher’s and cling on to him. “But it’s all I’ve got right now, so”—I swallow hard—“I’ll give him a chance, and if he doesn’t pull through, then I still have the pages, and I’ll do it.”
He stares down at our interlocked hands. “I have to tell you something.” His gaze rises to me, worry in his eyes. “Something really important.”
I glance over at the knife he puts on the table then back at him. “Does it have anything to do with that knife you brought in?”
He looks at the weapon then blows out a deafening breath and guides me to the bed. When he sits down, he hauls me with him then hugs me against his chest, tucking my head under his chin.
“We’ve run out of time,” he says softly. When I try to move away, he tightens his hold on me. “Michael and Altarius are meeting at the battlefield in less than twenty-four hours, and I’m supposed to take you there to make the sacrifice.”
I fist his shirt in my hand and fight to breathe evenly. “I’m not going to do it … I’m not ready.”
He rubs his hand up and down my spine, trying to soothe me with his touch. “You are ready, though. You know where your heart lies.”
“I know that.” I clutch his shirt and suck the tears back. “It’s the sacrifice that I’m not ready for.”
“It’ll be hard … but you have to do it, Ember. This has to happen.”
“Then I need to fall in love with someone else, because I refuse to sacrifice you.”
“Even if you fall in love with someone else”—his voice is carefully controlled—“the decision will still be equally as hard. Love is love, Ember. If you love someone, losing them is one of the most painful experiences.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and bury my face into his chest. Tears escape my eyes and soak the fabric of his shirt. “I know what loss feels like … with my father … with my mother. Cameron told me she’s dead … but with you…” My hands shake as I drown in sadness. “It hurts so much more. I care about you … love you so much more than I think I did with anyone.”
I half expect him to say it back, but he remains quiet, tangling his fingers through my hair. “I have to show you something … something important.”
This time, when I pull back, he loosens his hold. Free of his arms, I scoot back to look him in the eye but instantly shudder from the pain residing inside. Asher is hurting, but over what? Over the fact that he really thinks I’m going to sacrifice him?
“Asher, I’m not going to do this. I have to…” I trail off as his eyes spark, like little bolts of lightning flashing across the darkened sky.
“I need you to trust me.” His fingers splay around the back of my neck, and exhaustion consumes my body. My eyelids grow heavy, and my limbs are like lead as my mind empties.
“I’m not going to hurt you. You just need to see…” His voice fades away as I fall back into the darkness.
Chapter 15
Ember
When I open my eyes, I’m standing in the center of miles and miles of rolling hills. A single tree is behind me, the branches a canopy over my head, casting a shadow. Out in the distance, smoke funnels from the ground and circles the air. The sky is grey, and ashes float in the air, flickering with a spark of life. The ground feels unsteady, like it’s about to crack apart and swallow me whole.
“Where am I?” I whisper, daring a step forward.
“Be careful,” Asher warns from behind me.
I spin around, my heart leaping in my chest. “What did you do to me?”
He’s leaning against the trunk of a tree with his hands tucked into his pockets.
“The same thing my mother did, in a sense.” He straightens his stances and cautiously steps toward me. “You’re in a dream right now.”
I look around at the hills and the smoke filling the sky. “But I’ve never seen this place before.”
When he takes my hand, a jolt of warmth zaps up my arm. “That’s because it’s my dream, not yours. And it’s not really a dream, but more a memory.”
I tip my chin up and look at him as the wind hits my back and tosses my hair into a veil around my face. “I thought you lost your Angel abilities when you were banished.”
“Some, but not all.” He gathers my hair and tucks it back, looking me directly in the eyes. “Because of Altarius’s plan to steal Cameron and mine’s soul, there’s an urgency to let you understand what’s going to happen if you don’t make the sacrifice.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to interfere with my choice?”
“This isn’t really interfering.” He presses his hand to my chest, right above my thunderous heart. “You already made your choice the day you fell in love with me.”
“I can’t kill you.” A silent plea fills my voice. “Asher, please don’t make me do this … I won’t be able to live with myself if I do.”
He hooks a finger under my chin and forces me to look up at him. “I know you’re stronger than that. All those years you spent feeling everyone’s death, you bore the burden all by yourself. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.”
“Everyone’s dead now, though. My mom. My dad. Even Ian and Raven could be dead for all I know. And, if they’re not, and Cameron doesn’t come through, then I’ll have nothing to live for.”
“That’s not true. You can finally live your life as a normal human, surrounded by all the humans you saved.”
When I don’t say anything, he takes my hand and starts down the hill, pulling me along with him.
“You need to see what the sacrifice can stop from happening,” he says. “You need to see just how much good will come of it, how much good you’ll give to the world.”
I seal my lips together, following as he reaches the bottom of the hill and starts up the next. We walk for what seems like forever, yet at the same time, it doesn’t feel nearly long enough. It’s like I’m floating through my time with him, a love lived too short.
In the pit of my heart, I know whatever Asher is about to show me could sway me from refusing to make the sacrifice. Asher knows me well enough, knows what lies deep in my soul, more than even I do at times.
When we reach the top of the next slope, he halts and gazes out at the smoke and land.
“It was a horrible time,” he mutters with sadness and agony flooding his eyes. “There was no control, and Reapers and Angels fought all the time over who got the souls. Like Altarius is doing back in Hollows Grove, there was a lot of murders just to collect souls.” He turns his head, and his gaze burns fiercely as it locks with mine. “You and I, we can stop this from happening.” He swings his arm out and gestures at the scene before him.
Part of me doesn’t want to look—refuses to accept the truth—but the good inside me forces me to turn my head and see.
The hills and grass that stretch before me are drenched with blood. At first, I think my Reaper’s vision has possessed me again, but as I stare at the scene longer, I make out the bodies covering the land, sliced open, cut, wounded, bleeding out. Humans of all ages have been murdered, and scattered in the midst of them are thousands of cloaked figures, leaning in to snatch away each soul.
“Oh, my God.” I slap my hand over my mouth and take a step back, shaking my head.
“It happened right before the battle,” Asher says, anger blazing in his tone. “The Reapers gathered together and decided they were going to just take all the souls they could at once. They possessed an entire town and lured them out here, because there was little control or punishment then. No one really tried to stop them.” He scratches at his neck, still staring at the bloody hills. “There were a handful of Angels who tried to step in, but that just led to more blood spilled. Not long after, there was a battle between us … and well, you know the rest.” He grabs my hands in desperation. “While it doesn’t always seem that way, you were created for a very good reason.”
I shake my head as hot tears spill down my eyes. “I still don’t know if I can do it … take your life, when it feels like you”—I motion between us with my feet hand—“we are just getting started.”
“I know.” He squeezes my hand. “Can I show you something else, though? Something that might make you feel less guilt about taking my life?”
Even though I don’t believe anything he could possibly show me would make it easier, I shut my eyes and nod.
Chapter 16
Ember
When I open my eyes again, I’m standing in the field in front of the cottage, the one created by Asher’s mind. At first, I think I’m alone, but when I turn around, Asher is behind me, the sun glowing against his back, making him look unearthly.
“I never got to paint you,” he says, studying me intently. “That’s the one thing I think I’ll regret.”
“Don’t talk like you’re already dead,” I tell him sternly. “I don’t want to hear it.”
His lips quirk in mild amusement then he grabs my hand and takes off through the field toward the house.
“Where are we going?” I call out, rushing after him, the grass hissing at my bare legs. “I thought you needed to show me something.”
“I do.” His voice seems extremely light and upbeat considering the situation.
“Are we awake or asleep?” I peer at the roaring waterfall crashing to the ground and splashing against the rocks and then at the sky painted orange and pink by the sunset.
“Awake.” He constricts his hand around mine and quickens the pace, as if, at any moment, we’re going to run out of time.
By the time we reach the front yard, I’m panting and sinking further into despair. I have the strangest feeling this will be the last time the two of us will ever spend together alone, as though my mind has already decided it will make the choice.
When we reach the porch, Asher opens the front door of the cottage and guides me inside. The sun is descending behind the mountains, and the sky is greying, so he flips on the lights before leading me back to his bedroom. Then he kicks the door shut, kicks off his shoes, and shucks off his shirt.
Unable to stop myself, I move up to him and trace my fingers along his muscles and ink. On the front section of his rib is an Angel with black feathers spanning from her back and tears falling from her eyes. Her black hair flows to her back, and her feathers are molting from her wings. On his opposing rib is an inscription, one I used to not be able to read, but now that I’m a Grim Angel, my tongue flawlessly speaks the words:
“Nigredo caped terra et possederunt corpora mortale.
Ignis acquiritur super agros et fames possederunt maria.
Mors vincit iram et Angelos morte. Erat, sed omne sacrificium unum contrarium.
Morte puellae umero uno utrisque coniunctum esset electio salvificem mundum.
Sed non facile ad pugnam.”
“Ember,” he says, “everything’s going to be okay.”
I realize I’m sobbing, hot tears pouring from my eyes. “It’s not fair. It shouldn’t have to be you.”
He covers my hand with his and holds it securely above his heart. “You remember how I told you I hated being immortal?”
“This is different than losing your immortality.” Sniffling, I dry my tears with the back of my hand. “This is death, Asher. You’ll be gone … I mean, what even happens to you? You’re already Angel, so I don’t even understand what happens to you.”
“I’ll finally get to rest.” He says it almost jokingly, and when I glare at him, he sighs. “I’ve lived a full life with way more years than most.” His fingers splay across my cheek. “And I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“That’s not true,” I argue. “You said out in the field that you never got to paint me.”
He steps back and motions at the bed. “You could change that now.”
I want to keep arguing with him, make him see how much more time we need together. But the fear that we’ll run out of time makes me step away from him and sit down on the bed.
He smiles as he moves over to an easel in the corner of the room and picks up a paintbrush.
“How do you want me exactly?” I ask, wringing my hands on my lap. “When Raven used to paint me, she’d make me do all these crazy poses.”
He studies me with his head slanted then sets down the paintbrush and drags the easel closer to the bed, the legs scratching against the hardwood flooring. “I want you to lie down,” he says, situating the easel so he gets the perfect angle of me.
Shutting my eyes, I lie down on t
he bed and overlap my hands on my stomach.
“Open your eyes,” he commands. “And relax.”
I take a relaxing inhale and obey, opening my eyes and losing the stiffness the best that I can.
He leans over, clicks on his iPod, and “Like the Angel” by Rise Against turns on. Then Asher lifts his hand and starts to paint, his hand moving fluidly across the canvas while keeping his eyes fixed on me. The longer our gazes remain welded, the more intense the moment becomes.