Page 28 of A Shadow in the Reaping
We don't move. I feel caught between the things I want and the things I shouldn't. Things that are dangerous and things I desire. Memory and the need to be wanted. Secrets and the truths that blood and breath cannot hide.
Ashen's gaze is still soldered to my lips when I see the flame begin to dim in his eyes. He swallows. He takes a heavy breath. I know what he's doing. He's doing what I should be doing but can't seem to. He's putting on armor, from the inside out.
I take a step back before he can be the first to do it. I meet his eyes for only the beat of a heart before I turn away toward the door.
I already feel like I'm unravelling here. One moment, one word, one look at a time.
Chapter 15
We leave Ashen's room and walk down the corridor with no sound between us except our echoing footsteps. It doesn't just feel awkward. It feels tense and restless and broody. Like,reallybroody. I don't know if it's just me, but I kinda think if I turned around and headed back to his room, Ashen would be right on my heels. I would probably rip his clothes off the second the door closed behind us and then we would-
Do you ever think of something so ridiculous that you suddenly talk out loud or make a super weird sound? Well, I don't do that.
But I do smack my face with my palm. So now I must seem not just 'strange' but straight-up nuts.
Ashen looks down at me with a furrowed brow but doesn't say a word.
This place is freaking me out, I confess, writing as we walk.
"I gathered. You're barely even out of the corridor and your strangeness level has reached new heights," he says as we near the top of the stairs.
I know. That's a fact that's freaking me out even more.
"While I cannot blame you, you're going to need to pull it together. It doesn't get any better when we leave the building."
By the time we reach the bottom of the stairs I feel like I want to melt out of my skin. I must have a look of utter desperation on my face when I glance up at Ashen because he seems legit concerned.
"Vampire-"
I hiss.Fuckthat felt good. Therapeutic, even.
"Vam-"
I hiss again.
"Lu," Ashen says, slowing to a halt and pulling me with him. I struggle to meet his eyes. I'm antsy and restless and I feel like I can't stay still. Moments ago, the Shadow Realm felt like it could be the true reality, like the other world was the myth. But now it feels like a toxic gas. Somehow, I know I'm not meant to be here after all. I know it in my breath and bones. Ediye was right, and the fact that Ember knows who I am certainly doesn't help. It's like I've been tilted on my axis. Like my orbit is misaligned.
Ashen squeezes my wrist. "Lu."
What, I mouth as I look up with a question crinkling my forehead.
"I meant what I said. You will be safe. Just stay with me. Do not stray out on your own."
I have major doubts about thatbeing safeshit, all things considered. But I do my best to suck it up. I realize that if I freak out too much, that will probably look a little suspicious. Judging by the Reaper's face, that ship has long sailed.
I give a nod. The Reaper gives me one in reply. We walk through the hall, past a row of cauldrons. I'm kind of regretting my earlier freak-out with the Fire Corridor of Terror, because I don't know which one would take us home.
We arrive at a tall set of mahogany doors inlaid with black glass. Ashen pushes one open for me. We step outside, standing motionless at the top of a wide set of stairs leading to a short pathway to a road.
For a moment, I'm unable to breathe. I slowly draw my pen across the paper, not even looking down at what I'm writing. I show it to the Reaper. It says:
WHAT THE FUCK.
"Yeah. Like I said, it doesn't get any better when you leave the building," the Reaper says.
The light from the veiled sky is barely more than twilight. The shadows around us seem too dark and pervasive. The pathway to the road is lit with cast iron gas lamps much like the ones outside the Reaper's country estate. They flow at regular intervals down the road itself, disappearing into the fog that blankets us. It's so thick that I can't see far past the black surface of the road ahead, which honestly is probably a good thing. Because this place is fuuuuuuuuuucked.
An old-timey black carriage is lumbering down the road in front of us. Its curtains are drawn. We can't see who is inside. There's no carriage master to steer it, but that doesn't seem to matter. It clearly knows where it's going. There are chains leading from the seat where the driver should be to the iron yokes clamped around the necks of six souls.
