Page 28 of Dancing With Death

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cassian says easily. “I’m Cassian.”

“Now that we’re all here, let’s get this done and over with.” Wraith is clearly not happy, and I once again wonder what his and Cassian’s deal is. “Let’s sit down. If I’m going to be forced to be in your company, I at least want to be comfortable.”

“Wraith,” I hiss, eyes wide, but Cassian just waves it off.

“Don’t worry, little mate, I’m used to Wraith’s disdain as well as Donovan’s possessiveness. Why don’t we sit?” He gestures toward the couch.

Not knowing what else to do, I take a seat in the middle. Brenden zooms over to sit on one side of me while Cassian sits on the other side. Donovan and Wraith share the couch across from us.

When no one speaks, I glance around at them. “Don’t all speak at once. I was promised I’d be told what the fuck is going on, so someone needs to get to talking.”

Wraith frowns, his eyes finding Cassian once more before he shakes his head. “Angels aren’t exactly what you think they are, trouble. They’ve become what they are because of human’s beliefs. Angels have usually existed in one form or another throughout history, in one religion or another, but they haven’t always appeared as this. The dominance of Christianity is what gave them this form.”

“We’re actually demigods,” Cassian picks up.

My head snaps toward him. “As in, one of your parents is a god?”

“That’s usually what that means, yes.” He snorts. “When a god procreates with a human, a demigod—or angel, as we’re more commonly known now—is born. Because we are their children, most of the gods wanted us to live with them. I guess the most common name for it currently is heaven.”

I nod slowly. “But heaven’s gates have been closed.”

Cassian scowls, rubbing his hands against his jean-clad thighs. “They have been. Ophelia, Sol, and myself were banished from heaven as a punishment.”

“A punishment for what?” I ask, cutting him off.

“I’d rather not talk about that now.” He sighs, glancing at me. “Could we table that particular conversation for now?”

I shrug. I doubt it has any importance to what we’re discussing, so I gesture for him to continue.

“We were banished to the underworld where we were tasked with judging the souls of the dead—deciding which part of hell they would reside in. It was meant to be a temporary punishment, but when the gates were closed, we weren’t given the option to return home.” I’m surprised to realize he doesn’t sound bitter like I expected. “I have long since accepted my role in the world. The underworld isn’t a terrible place to live.”

“So angels are demigods. That probably means you have powers that aren’t anything like how Christianity describes them.” At Cassian’s nod, I bite my lip. “The three of you are who my soul would’ve been sent to if I failed at the academy.”

Cassian glances at Wraith. “Something tells me that was never going to happen, but yes, it is the three of us who would’ve weighed your soul.”

“Well, that’s cool. Maybe you can explain how you knew I was your mate?” I cuddle into Brenden’s side when he wraps his arm around my shoulders. “As a witch, I’m unable to sense my mates.”

“You’re no witch, little mate.” Cassian frowns. “Why do you believe you’re a witch?”

“Ummm…because my parents were witches. My twin Wren and I have fire magic like our mom.” Lifting my hand, I call on my fire to make a flame in my palm, jerking back when I notice it’s purple. “Why is my fire purple?”

Wraith and Donovan lean forward with matching frowns.

Cassian, seeming to understand something is wrong, clears his throat. “It hasn’t always been that color?”

I shake my head, unable to tear my eyes off the purple flames. They’re gorgeous, but I don’t understand why the color has changed. “When I was alive, it was just like every other fire. Even once I relearned my magic at the academy, it was just plain old flames.”

“When was the last time you used your fire magic?” Wraith asks, reaching out to run his fingers through it. He hisses, jerking them back and frowning at the burn on his fingers.

“What the fuck, Wraith?” I release my hold on my magic and spring across the room. “Why would you do that? Fire burns. That’s not something new. We need to get this under cold water.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’ll heal, but the fire you just called is no ordinary fire, trouble.”

“Duh. That’s why I asked why it was purple.”

“That’s not what he means, pretty girl.” Donovan pulls me into his lap. “As Death, Wraith is immune to damage from elemental magic. Your fire from before wouldn’t have burned him. There’s only one kind of fire that can burn Death.”

I swallow hard, my stomach in my throat. That doesn’t sound ominous or anything. “And what kind of fire is that?”

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