Cinder (19 page)

I feel like an asshole as I nod. “He showed up at the house this morning.”

“And just gave it to you? Without taking anything in return?” He’s not buying it.

“Well, after he took me to his house,” I say ashamedly.

His jaw muscles go taut. “You went with him to his house. Alone? How…? Why…? Do you…?” He scratches at the back of his neck as more and more anger rises. “Do you like him?”

“What? No. Asher, it’s not like that. He was just chattering in my head and then he told me he had something to give me. I don’t like him. At all. I promise.” Laughter instantly fills my head and even though I hate to admit it, it’s not Cameron’s; it’s my own.

“Yet you trusted him enough to go with him,” he says, the hurt on his face so overwhelming that I feel like crying. “Trust means a lot, especially when it comes to you. You don’t trust very often.”

“It’s not like that… he just—” I blow out a frustrated breath. “Sometimes when he’s around it’s hard to think straight. Besides, I trust you more than I trust anyone.”

He’s still unconvinced, however he lets his anger go. “I just want you to be careful.” He takes my hand. “You’re so important to me.”

I’m not sure how to respond to his endearing remark, therefore I remain silent. I do need to be more careful, but at the same time, I’m glad that I have the necklace right now because it makes me feel safe. It always has since the day my grandmother gave it to me.

He releases my hand from his and rubs his eyes like he’s exhausted. “I feel weird, like really tired all the time and overly emotional. I think it might be because I was banished and am feeling more human stuff or something.”

I force a light tone. “I’m sure it’ll get easier with time.”

“I hope so,” he says, his mood plummeting. “The last thing I need is to be weakened by emotions, especially when you need me.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him then get to my feet, threading my fingers through his and pulling him with me. “Which reminds me, I need to check my email.”

“Why?” he asks as we exit the closet, holding hands.

“Because I’ve been trying to get a hold of this guy named August Millard.” I let go of his hand, get my laptop from the dresser, and drop down on my unmade bed. “Who wrote that book your uncle erased. I’m hoping he might be able to give me some answers, not just about freeing the town from the possession but also what lies for me ahead if I become a Grim Angel.”

“My uncle didn’t erase the book… he just hid everything in it,” he says, sitting down next to me. “Besides, when my uncle puts the words on the pages, I can translate it for you.”

“Yeah, but the book can’t tell me everything, like what’s going to happen to me if I’m the last one remaining.” I say. “But August seems like he might know enough about it and he can tell me unlike you.”

“I already told you I don’t know everything. Only our leaders do, since they’re the ones who created the curse.” He sighs. “And the parts that I do know, you wouldn’t want to know.”

“I do want to know,” I insist. “And August isn’t an Angel so he might be able to tell me.”

“If you really want to know stuff….” He rubs a hand over his face. “I might be able to tell you a few things.”

“But I thought you were bound not to tell because you’re an Angel.”

“Yeah, but—but I’m not feeling very….” He angles his head back and looks up at the ceiling like he’s thinking deep, feeling what lies inside him. “Angel right now and it makes me wonder what would happen if I told you stuff I knew.”

I open my laptop and press the power button. “You could try it out,” I suggest, thinking about how Asher’s uncle was able to tell me stuff and he was an Angel of Death once. “Although, I’m not really sure what will happen if you try to tell me and you can’t. Will you just not be able to say anything, or do you simply get in trouble?”

He absentmindedly reaches behind him and touches the spot on his back where I saw his wings sprout from. “No, in the past my lips literally couldn’t utter the secrets bound in the Death Angels’ circle.”

I yawn as the computer screen lights up. “Okay, then you should try to tell me something and see where it goes.”

 “I’m not sure I
want
to tell you the parts that I know,” he states with indecision, staring down at his hands.

I type in my password, feeling my stomach jolt in fear of just how bad it is. “Why not?”

He swallows hard, glancing up at me, his eyes flooded with worry. “Because it’s bad.”

“Worse than being tortured by a group of rebellious Reapers?” I point out, trying to be calm, but my nerves are jumbled.

He sighs heavy-heartedly, his head slumping forward as he shakes it. “It’s way worse than that, Ember. There’s so much more to it than just the torture.”

I recollect the death omen I saw, the blood staining the streets—blood that belonged to the entire town. “Please just tell me. I need to know what I have to face, if it comes down to that.”

When he raises his head, he has a heart-wrenching look on his face, like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. His lips part. Words leave his mouth. Words he’s probably not supposed to tell me, yet somehow he manages to speak them. “In order for the battle between the Reapers and Angels to come to a complete end—which I’m not even sure how we get there—you’ll have to choose a side. You’ll pick between good and evil—pick the world’s fate, and then… you have to sacrifice the life of someone close to you with your own hands.” He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before he speaks, his voice barely a whisper, but I still hear him as clear as day. “Someone you love.”

I don’t say anything for a while. I can’t. My voice has drifted away like ash stolen by the wind. Sacrifice the life of someone I love. That’s where this is all leading if I end up being the last one standing.

“So, you’re saying that regardless of what happens—whether I choose Angels or Reapers—I’ll have to kill by sacrifice someone I love to make it all end?” I want to cry, yet my eyes refuse to produce tears.

Asher nods, watching me attentively. “Either way, you’ll have to face the choice.”

“I could never do it,” I whisper, setting the laptop to the side as I struggle to breathe. “I’m not a killer.”
And I’m not even sure I’m in love with anyone.

He grabs my arm and guides me closer to him. “I know you’re not… I’m just telling you what I know about the battle.” His arms wrap around me and he pulls me in for a tight embrace.

I shake my head in astonishment, my arms pinned between us because I can’t seem to find the strength to lift them up to hug him back. “I couldn’t do it. Even if I’m the last one standing, I’ll never be able to go through with it.”

“I know,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “We’ll figure out something.”

“We don’t even know if I’ll be the last one.” I utter. “I’d have to… no… I can’t… I can’t be the last Grim Angel standing… I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen, if I have to, even if I have to take my own life.”

“Ember.” Asher forces my body against his, tucking my head beneath his chin. “Don’t talk like that. We’ll find a way out of this, even if it ends up that you’re the last Grim Angel standing, I won’t let things end for you like that.”

“I’m not going to be the last one,” I insist, leaning away to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be another way... someone else has got to bear that burden. Not me.” It sounds like such a selfish thing to say and the moment it leaves my lips, I hate myself for saying it. Yet, I want it to be true.

“There has to be something else. Something I don’t know,” he mumbles to himself.

“But how can we find out? I mean, there’s hardly any information anywhere about Grim Angels.”

“I’m not sure…” He lets go of me with one hand and rubs his jawline. “We need to meet up with my uncle, not just so he can get the pages back on the book, but he also might know more about this than I do, considering he’s much older and wiser.”

“Well, I’m going to get a hold of August Millard still, just in case. Plus, he could know more.” I move out of his arms, reaching for my computer. Asher observes me with curiosity as I open up the browser and my inbox. My heart leaps when I see that I have one unopened message from an August Millard.

 “Know more than me and my uncle?” Asher says with skepticism as he leans over my shoulder and squints at the screen. “I don’t want to be negative, but at the same time, this is just a guy that wrote a book.”

“A book that talks about ways to free people from possession,” I say, clicking on the message. “Do you know how to do that?”

He shakes his head with dissatisfaction. “I’ve never heard of a human being able to break their Reaper possession, unless the Reaper themselves break it. And I sure as hell haven’t heard of a Grim Angel’s soul getting possessed.”

“Well, this book explained it. Although, it was in Latin, so all I got was the intro.” I take a deep breath and read the message aloud. “
Dear Miss Edwards, I’m so very please that you took the time to read my book and write me such a passionate letter. I would like to accept your request that we should meet up and discuss my research about Angels of Death and the Grim Reapers that walk amongst us. Please give me a call at your convenience.
” At the bottom, he wrote his name and number. I glance over my shoulder at Asher who’s reading the screen. “Well, what do you think?”

A pucker forms at his brow as he reads the words on the screen again. “I think he sounds sketchy.”

I return my attention to the screen, hating that he might be right. “How do you figure?”

Asher’s shoulders lift and fall as he shrugs. “Because it’s too formal. ‘Discuss my research about Angels of Death and the Grim Reapers who walk amongst us’. And he offers to meet you way too easily.”

“Yeah, I was expecting it to be a little harder, but at the same time, I want to know what he knows.” I sigh and read the very short message over again, muttering, “I wonder where the hell he even lives.”

Asher points at the phone number down at the bottom of the screen. “Well, that’s a New York City area code,” he says.

“So he’s in New York City?” Where Asher thinks his mother is? Is it a coincidence?
I’m not sure, but for some reason I doubt it.

Asher gives a one-shouldered shrug. “That’s at least where he registered the phone to, but it doesn’t mean he lives there.” He pauses and then reaches for the computer on my lap. “Let me message him back and find out where he lives and we’ll go from there.” I hand him my laptop. “Then we’ll talk to my uncle and see what he knows—maybe we won’t even have to talk to him.”

For some reason, I don’t think it’s going to be that easy, especially when Asher’s uncle took the book in the first place and erased it. He might have just been protecting it, but at the same time, if I’ve learned anything, it’s never trust anyone.

And I know it’s a good thing to have August as backup, just in case all hell breaks loose.

After Asher finishes the email to August, I shut the laptop and then give him my phone so he can call his uncle and see if he’s back from Jackson so we can go over there and talk. While he makes the call, I slip on my jacket, noting how sore my back has become. With each movement of my arms, my muscles ache in protest and I wonder just how bad the bruises are getting.

Asher sits on my bed, watching me lean over to tie one of my boots up with the phone pressed to his ear. “You’re so beautiful,” he says with a strange look on his face, distracting me from the pain. “I’d love to paint you sometime.”

I stand up straight, and tuck my hair behind my ear, feeling a little awkward at his intimate words. “Maybe when I’m not being stalked by the dead.” I head over to the trunk to get the book.

That gets him to smile. “Just think about it. I promise it won’t be a big deal,” he says as I open the lid and get the book out.

I open my mouth to say something, but he holds up a finger, silencing me as he speaks into the phone. “Hey, Uncle Elliot. It’s Asher.” He pauses, listening to his uncle on the other end, the amusement in his expression diminishing the more time goes by. I close up the trunk then lean against the wall, hugging the book against my chest as Asher says, “Yeah, I figured you’d heard by now. Sorry I didn’t tell you on the phone last night I was just a little embarrassed they… stripped my wings.” He glances over his shoulders at his back. Oddly, my own shoulders lurch forward as a sharp pain shoots through my back, like I’m the one who just turned around and looked at it. His eyes settle on me the longer the conversation goes on. “Actually, I’m at Ember’s right now… why?” He grows quiet again as I reach around and rub my tender back muscles, my fingers nowhere as soothing as Asher’s touch. “Yeah, but why can’t we leave?”

The longer the conversation goes on, the more uneasy he gets, and the more my back hurts. Finally, I can’t take it anymore and I slide my hand up the back of my shirt, feeling around for feathers, but there is just the smoothness of my flesh. And then pain, it’s becoming unbearable, like my skin is melting off my body like wax.

I continue to keep my hand on my back while Asher chats on the phone, giving me random confused looks. Then the confusion erases as his gaze darts to the book in my arms with a concerned look on his face. “I’m not sure… I’ll have to ask Ember if she has it and she just left the house for a little bit to go look for her mother.”

I give him a funny look, which he returns with a warning glance, pressing for me to keep quiet. I recline against the dresser, watching him sink further into doubt. By the time he hangs up the phone, he looks like he’s about ready to flip out.

He leaps to his feet and takes the book from my hands. “We have to go now,” he says, tucking my phone into the back pocket of his jeans before grabbing my hand.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as he practically drags me into the hall as he takes swift, even strides. With every step my back muscles seem to be getting tighter. “Asher, what’s going on?”

He keeps walking, grasping onto my hand. “That wasn’t my uncle on the phone,” he says as we reach the stairs.

“Then who was it?” I ask as I trot down the stairs, working to stand up straight despite the overpowering urge to slant forward and fall to my knees.

“Well, it
was
him,” he corrects. “But he’s possessed by the Anamotti and I could hear someone in the background that sounded an awful lot like Alton.”

“Alton’s there with him?” Caught off guard, I almost trip down the stairs, but brace myself by grabbing onto the banister for support. “How can that be possible? And how can he be possessed when he is… was an Angel? Or is that why he can?”

Asher glances over his shoulder at me and I can see the worry he’s carrying and the distress. “Being banished makes us susceptible to possession.”

My guard suddenly goes up. Not only could Asher’s uncle be possessed but Asher could be as well.

“I’m me,” he says like he reads my mind. “I promise. And if they try to get to me like that, I’ll end myself.”

My eyes widen. “Asher, don’t talk—”

He covers my mouth with his hand. “I said I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you and I meant it.”

I want to argue with him, but I can tell by the look on his face that he’s made up his mind. “So now what do we do?

He stops in the center of the stairway, staring up at the window just above the door where lightning snaps across the sky and thunder booms. “We keep the book from him, until we can figure out what’s going on and out what’s on these pages… ” he trails off. “God, I could hear it in my uncle’s voice the moment he started talking. He sounded so...” He stops abruptly when we arrive at the bottom of the stairway and I bump into him. He whirls around and steadies me by the shoulders with a gracefulness that reminds me that, even though he isn’t an Angel of Death at the moment, he’s still not human. Letting go of my hand to hold up the book, he says, “He wanted this. In fact, he sounded like Gollum from
Lord of the Rings
, only instead of wanting the ring, he wants the book.” Asher balances it in his arms, opens it up and then flips through the blank pages.

We both stare at the pages for a moment as if the words will somehow miraculously appear on them. All the while, the clock in the background ticks while thunder booms.

“Dammit, we need to get my uncle’s blood to see what the hell he was trying to hide.” Sighing, Asher gives up and shuts the book while I start itching at my back, my skin is starting to coat with sweat, my nails scratching at the top layer of skin. “We need a place to hide out for a while until we can figure out a plan,” Asher says, putting the book under his arm. “Somewhere where the Anamotti will have a hard time finding us.”

“How about we hit the road and go to New York?” I ask, grabbing the car keys from the end table. “It would help keep the Anamotti away and we could talk to August. He might be able to tell us how to free the innocent souls that are possessed, and then we could put a stop to the madness in the town and the death waiting for everyone if Alton goes through with what I saw happen in the death omen.”

“Hitting the road isn’t a bad idea.” His head tips down as he looks at the book again, strands of his dark hair falling into his eyes. “But I’m still not sure we can trust this August guy.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to at least look into it.”

He sighs, giving in. “All right, grab some stuff and we’ll hit the road if he gets back to us. Then we can head out there after I try to track down some more information on him.”

I nod, glad he’s giving in. Then I rush back to my room and pack my bags while Asher waits on the stairway, watching the front door like he’s afraid someone’s going to barge in. I make sure to pack my lap top and leave a vague note to my mom just in case she returns and cares that I’m gone.

By the time I go back to Asher, he looks so worried that his skin has gotten noticeably paler. His eyes meet mine as I walk down the stairs with the bag slung over my shoulder and when I reach the bottom, he grabs my hand and we hurry to the door.

 Something occurs to me as Asher opens the front door. “Asher, how can you be helping me right now when you couldn’t in the past? Is it because you’re banished?”

Wind gusts through my hair and a drizzle of rain escapes into the foyer as the door swings open. “No, even though I’m partially free from my Angel blood, I still could get in a lot of trouble for helping you right now,” he says, not upset, but sort of relieved.

I tuck my hair behind my ear to keep it from blowing in my face. “Then why are you?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead he leads me outside and into the rain bucketing down from the angry sky. Asher keeps walking while holding onto me, but then he stops just short of the grass to spin around to face me. “Because I’m saying screw the rules,” he says with passion emitting with every syllable. “I don’t give a crap anymore. About any of this.” He swings his arm around, gesturing at the land. “It’s not fair that you were created to bare our sins and I’m not going to let you suffer anymore, regardless of what happens to me.” He cups my cheeks in his hand and I swear to god I can hear his heart hammering in his chest. “All I want is you safe. I should have been keeping you safe this entire time.” Rain drenches his hair, beads his skin, soaks his clothes and makes them cling to his body.

My stomach flutters at the sight of him and his powerful words. Emotions surface inside me that are potent, intoxicating. I’ve never felt anything like them before and it makes it too complex to control—difficult to keep inside— it’s hard not to just let them pour out of me like the rain. I don’t think it’s love, but I wonder where my emotions for Asher are going. If at the end of this, I will be in love with him, and if at the conclusion of all of this, I’ll have to kill him to save humanity and their souls.

“All right, let’s hit the road then,” I call out over the thunder and my shaky voice reveals that I’m feeling something powerful. “At least until we can figure out how to save the town.”

Asher looks like he notices it, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he nods and grabs my hand again, his skin cold from the rain. Then we head for the car in the driveway, side-by-side beneath the rain. It’d seem like the perfect moment except for the thunder booming above us and there are people standing all over the grass.

“Dammit,” Asher and I say, noticing them at the exact same time. We stop dead in our tracks at the brink of the driveway as more people emerge. They aren’t regular people. They’re possessed; their expressions numb, eyes glowing through the veil of rain, and their hands are held lifelessly at their sides. I recognize a few of them as my neighbors. The two policemen that are always stalking me stand with them, too. However some of them I’ve never seen before; they’ve been drawn in from town, I’m guessing, but why?

Deep down, I think I might know the answer, but I don’t want to accept it just yet. Accept what the burn on my back means or why the Anamotti have suddenly stepped up their game.

As I stare at the thickening crowd, at the people wandering in from each side of the street, I spot another person that I recognize. She’s tall and thin, and has dark hair that runs down her shoulders in waves. She’s wearing a long, floral dress and her lips that were once red are blue. I went to school with her up until a week ago when her body was found near the riverbank only a half a mile from my father’s crime scene.

Her lips curl into a smile as I look at her and for a second I think she’s going to beg me to help her like the other dead girl did, but all she says is, “Hey, Ember. It’s nice to see you again,” she says with a little wave. Vomit burns at the back of my throat at the sight of her fingerless hand. “Alton says, ‘Hi’ and that ‘he’ll see you soon.’”

My jaw drops as Asher’s hand tightens around mine. “We have to get out of here…” His focus is secured on the people gathering in large numbers. “Quickly.” He blinks his eyes away from them and then we’re running to the car, puddles splashing below our feet while thunder and lightning crack above us and rain hammers down. Like at school, the people don’t move, letting the rain drench them as they watch us, waiting for something.

When we reach my mom’s car parked in the driveway, we climb in and I start the engine. Asher drags his fingers through his soaked hair and pushes it back from his face. We buckle our seatbelts without saying anything and then I put the car in reverse. When I check the mirror, I see that the people have migrated from the lawn to the end of the driveway, making it impossible to back up.

“What should I do?” I ask as Asher rotates around in the seat to look behind us at the forming group.

He deliberates, measuring the thickness of the crowd. “I think we should just go. Test them and see if they get out of the way.”

I grip the shifter with one hand and the steering wheel with the other. “And what if they don’t move?”

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps. “Then bump them with your car.”

“I can’t do that,” I say, alarmed. “They’re still people, despite the fact that they’re possessed.”