Page 32 of A Shadow in the Reaping
"You have the ability to cast spells, most vampires cannot do that. It's an ability that seems absent in later generations. You must have been created many years ago, when more of the early vampires remained. Are you first or second generation? Third?"
Fucksakes, he's in full investigative mode.
I finally cut my gaze to Ashen. I give him a fierce look and try to bury my fear far beneath it. The way his eyes shift between mine makes me feel like he's hunting for it. Like he's trying to fish it from the depths.
"You can tell me. I owe you a life debt, Lu. It goes beyond the confines of the spell that you cast. You saved me from a death that would have been everlasting, even after I told you I would not protect you in the fight where we met." Ashen takes a step closer, a distance on the boundary between safety and suspicion should anyone see us together and wonder what kind of moment we're having.
My eyes narrow and I tilt my head as I regard him with scrutiny. I tear my journal from my chest and it feels like stripping off armor in the thick of battle.But you did protect me in that fight. You pulled me out of the battle when I was bitten. Why?
Ashen's eyes flick to my arm, the bite now healed. "You were injured."
That's not an explanation, I write.
We stand like two statues before the tablet of names, a Reaper and a Vampire. The last of the original sirens, the genesis of my clan. The executioner who would have me killed if he knew what I was. Yet somehow, right now, it feels like we are simply a man and a woman just trying to figure each other out.
I fan the note before Ashen's face.That's not an explanation. I wait for an answer, trying to kill any hope for something bold and true.
"I don't know," Ashen says. But the spark of flame in his eyes, as dim as it is, makes me think otherwise. He moves a step closer. His eyes flow across my skin. I can almost feel the lick of their brightening flame. "But I do know that I meant what I said. I will not let any harm come to you."
Another small step closer. There's barely a breath of space between us. If someone comes up here, they aredefinitelygoing to have some questions.
"Tell me where you belong on this list, Lu. Help me figure out what I'm missing," Ashen says. He reaches up and sweeps a lock of hair from my ponytail back across my shoulder. His movement is slow and precise. His eyes stay locked to mine. "You can trust me."
Wellshit.
I'll tell you one thing. If I've learned anything in my five thousand years on this hunk of space rock hurtling itself around the sun, it's this:
Nothing good ever came from those four words.
I look at every curve and angle of Ashen's face. He's like a beautiful creature from the depths of the sea that turns its lights to the darkness, luring its prey with promises it will never keep. Come for the allure of a beacon in black water. Stay for the bite that kills you.
I hold his gaze for a long moment before I turn my attention to the notebook.
Where is the hybrid?I write, turning my note toward him. His brow is creased when he looks up from the question to me.
"Here, in the Shadow Realm. In a building called Halba, near the House of Ushzu."
I look up to the list on the wall one last time. I look at my sisters and me, immortalized as nothing more than names carved in stone. I take a step away from the Reaper and cast my pen across the paper.
I do not know who made me. I only know I belong near the top. And I don't care who you are or what realm you're from, I owe you no name to put on this list of future souls ripe for stealing. Let me be a shadow in your reaping and we will call your debt fulfilled.
I let Ashen read the note. I take another step away. The flame brightens in his eyes as the red light rises in mine.
Get whatever texts you need here, Reaper, if you ever needed any at all, I write.Then take me to see the hybrid so I can finish this bond between us and be done with this realm for good.
I watch as his gaze shifts from my words to me. I hold his eyes long enough for the flame within his to grow brighter. Long enough for him to understand. Long enough for Ashen to be sure that when I saythis realm, what I really mean is him.
Chapter 17
If I thought the walk to get to the library was tense, every step since our conversation on the second floor has been next-level awkward. Ashen says nothing. I write nothing. We shoot the occasional dark look at one another, but whenever our gazes collide, they repel.
We leave the library and walk along another road in the near dark. The fog still obscures most of our surroundings, but I get the vague sense we're walking back in the direction of House Urbigu, like we're on a giant circle that will eventually lead us there. The sounds in the mist are still unnerving, as is the quiet in between. There's no reassuring palm to guide me through the Realm this time. One of Ashen's hands stays in his pocket as we walk. The arm closest to me is wrapped around a stack of texts, lineages of werewolves and vampires and the crimes they say we have committed.
I can't say I blame Ashen for being extra frosty. But really, it's for the best this way. If he thinks he's going to be all flirty and I'm just going to tell him all my secrets and place my trust in him, he's got another thing coming. I haven't survived this long by letting my guard down to a hot guy with a sick body and some pretty words. Besides, he's a Reaper. A very successful Reaper. It's not like he has actual feelings for me, aside from the desire to kill.
Despite trying to focus on the darker side of Ashen and the instability he brings to my formerly quiet life, I still feel a little bad for pushing him away. I know it's just the residue of his lure in the dark. I have to remember, that's what he's meant to do. He gains access. He mines information. And then he kills. But part of me still can't help but believe he is different from the rest, that he feels something about his role in this Realm. That he feels something for me.
These thoughts roll like marbles hitting one another in the confines of my mind, bouncing with every step in the silence of the fog. Just as I'm starting to think we'll be walking for an eternity, we finally arrive at Halba, a squat, circular building of grey stone.
