Page 46 of A Shadow in the Reaping
"No. I don't know of any others that have it. I did hear a years back of a powerful witch looking to pay handsomely to acquire it. Mila Karras was her name.”
“The name is unfamiliar to me,” Ashen says, glancing at me. I shake my head and he turns his frown toward his glass of tea.
“She kept a low profile. She died in an accident in Jerusalem last year. A spell gone wrong, apparently. Since then, however, I’ve heard nothing further about it, and there is little I don't know about the movement of the darker concoctions among the apothecaries. She would have needed an apothecary to distil the poison, but I’ve heard no whispers of such a feat. If there is any Angelwing left, I doubt it would stay in one place for long," Mr. Hassan says as he refills Ashen's glass of mint tea before replenishing his own. He places the teapot on the coffee table and sits back, steepling his fingers as he regards the Reaper. "There are other... activities... that abound, however. Movement in the Realm of Light."
"What do you mean?"
"Hidden portals once dormant, now awakening. Whispers of angels passing through. There is rumor of such a portal at Saqqara. I've heard tales among the immortals here of flashes of light at dawn. Of figures, coming or going."
Ashen and I look at one another. I fold my hand around my bike key. Saqqara isn't far. We can make it with plenty of time to spare before dawn.
"I will find you a thermos. You should take that with you," Mr Hassan says, nodding to the drink in my hand as he rises. I watch him shuffle into the kitchen, my gaze following his hunched frame as he moves through the dark. The cat in my lap pushes her face into my hand and I smile at the affection she gives so freely to a stranger. When I look up at Ashen, he's watching me. It feels like his thoughts are split between me and something far away in time.
What, I say without sound, my smile fading until it's faint, barely a trace on my lips. He looks both worried and angry, and I can't tell which one is worse. He just shakes his head and looks into the mint tea in his hands as though the broken leaves lingering at the base will tell him the future.
Imagine if we see an angel! I haven't seen one in millennia, I write, and tap my journal to draw his attention to my note.
"Yeah, that's probably a good thing. The less we see from that realm, the better," Ashen replies, leaning his arms on his knees.
Maybe I can kill one, I write, tapping my journal again. He raises a weary gaze and reads my note then pinches the bridge of his nose.
"That is a terrible idea."
No, seriously. Think about it. If I kill one, they're DEFINITELY not going to want me in there. Offer rescinded.
"I can imagine it's only a matter of time before they find another reason to keep you out if that's what they really want. No point incurring the wrath of their realm in the meantime."
But hear me out, wouldn't killing an angel make me the most popular person EVER in the Shadow Realm? That doesn't sound so bad.
"You've clearly not seen enough of the Shadow Realm to want to aspire to such heights," Ashen says. He downs the rest of his tea and sets the empty glass on a brass tray, then bends his head and lets go of a heavy lungful of air. I feel the curl of something unpleasant in my chest. Nerves. Concern. A fucking gigantic swirl of anxiety that feels like a whirlpool sucking me to the bottom of the sea.
I look over to the kitchen where Mr. Hassan is still rummaging in darkness. I feel like he's taking his time on purpose. He's trying to give us some space.
I start to write a note.But if I'm trapped in the Realm of Light, it says, but I can't finish it. I just can't make myself put the rest into ink. The confession I wish I could make twists like wire around my heart. Because it would have saidI won't be able to see you. And those aren't feelings I think I should have, even if they're becoming impossible to deny. Even worse, I'm not sure they would be returned.
The apothecary's words ring through my mind like they're on a delay.Fear is like the wind and ancient creatures are always ready with a sail to catch it. Especially vampires. I think I get it now. Because I have an urge to take that motorcycle as far as it will carry me into the night.
I flip to a fresh page.Okay Reaper. Let's see what we see in Saqqara and decide what's next from there.
I show Ashen my note and I place my pen and journal on the coffee table, rising with the cat in my arms. I hug her close to my chest and place her on the floor, then pick up my mug and the teapot and carry them into the kitchen. I help Mr Hassan clean up, and he warms my drink and places it into a thermos that was already waiting on the counter.
"Of all the creatures to walk the Earth, vampires are my favorite. But don't tell anyone I said that, I'm meant to be impartial," Mr. Hassan says with a wink, and we give one another a kiss on each cheek to say goodbye as we shake hands.
When I enter the living room, Ashen is standing with my notebook and pen in his hands. I pull them from his fingers and he takes the thermos instead. I give a faint smile of thanks before we head to the door, and then I turn to wave goodbye to the apothecary who watches as we pass over his threshold and into the night.
"I'll follow you this time," Ashen says. There's neither mirth nor anger in his voice and I don't nod or make any movement in reply. We are silent as we descend the stairs of the building that spiral toward the bustling pedestrian streets of Khan el-Khalili market. We pass shops with lanterns of colorful glass, perfumeries whose scents of sandalwood and lotus carry on the currents of air that flow between passersby.
After a few turns, we arrive at a cafe where patrons smoke apple-flavored tobacco in shishas and sip mint tea on the patio. Our bikes are parked a short distance from one another. Ashen follows me to mine. He watches as I slide the key into the ignition and close my hand around the front brake as I throw my leg over the seat. He places my thermos in the saddlebag and rises, but he grasps the handlebar and leans close, waiting until my gaze catches on his. I look at him with a question in my eyes.
"Don't lose me," he says, but he doesn't move away. I look at him for a long moment. My eyes roam from his, toward the tattoos that flow beneath his collar in sweeping black lines. His skin is radiant in the dim patio lanterns and the headlights on the street that flicker in the night.
When I meet his eyes again, they still watch mine. I can see the rich brown tones that seem to warm when he lets his secrets rise through the sediment of time. I nod once, but the stillness remains between us.
Ashen lets go of the bar. His hand lays warm against my cheek. My breath catches in my lungs as his thumb sweeps a slow path across my skin. The world around us seems to disappear with such a simple touch.
"If you're trapped in the Realm of Light, I will still find you," Ashen says. With one more brush of his skin across mine he pulls his hand away.
This time, when we drive through the night, I keep his lights close in the dark.
