Page 50 of A Shadow in the Reaping
Asallah libakkunu, I think, over and over on the drive back into Cairo, remembering the words of my spell.I overpower your heart. But I'm starting to worry that mine has already succumbed.
Chapter 23
Isit on a shaded bench in the courtyard and text back and forth with Ediye as I wait for the Reaper to gather some clothes from the depths of the house. We talk in emojis so I don't tell her where I am, but she knows that I'm okay.
I send her a heart.
She sends me a skull and a question mark.
I send her a face palm.
She sends me a devil face.
I send her an eyeroll.
She sends me an eggplant and a cat.
"I found this," Ashen says, startling me. I nearly drop the phone on the limestone and recover it with a fumbling hand. The Reaper holds out a folded black dress and I take it into my arms, holding it away from the grime on my top. He's gotten changed into black jeans and another midnight blue shirt, not as crisp and new as the other one but still well-tailored.
Thank you,I mouth, and look away. I'm feeling kind of weird about what happened in Saqqara. Not just about the presence of an angel who seems too interested and knowledgeable about our little mystery, but about what happened with Ashen.
There's a lot of power in his blood. A lot of history. And it's kind of frightening. It's like a well of secrets that I can taste but not see or hear. The essence of it still surges in my body, and even though it's not much, I can feel him, effervescent in my veins.
Ashen turns away and I get changed right there in the courtyard. The dress is kind of sweet and I can't imagine a Reaper wearing it. Aside from the dark color, it's not their typical style. The soft cotton hits just at my knee, the bodice is fitted but not tight. Gold beads follow the neckline and flow up the halter straps. I take off my bra. The white lace is stained and not really a good fit with the halter, you see. I leave it on top of my other clothes where it can hopefully make Ashen uncomfortable.
The Reaper doesn't say anything as I tie the matching belt behind my back and walk past him to the fountain, cupping water in my hands to splash my face. Swirls of dark blood drip onto the blue mosaic and wash away.
"Night will be falling when we get back to the Shadow Realm," Ashen says. He tries to look super chill as he tosses my bra and shirt into the cauldron where they melt into the flames, but I see the way he swallows when he glances at me.Attraction and Annihilation. My jeans are salvageable, so he hands them to me with my journal and pen.
How wild of you, burning bras,I write.
"I am a progressive Reaper," he replies, and his deadpan tone makes my smile grow even wider.
Yes, I really gathered that when you asked if Andy Cartwright wanted to mate with me.
My smile fades as his expression grows dark and menacing. I see the flash of bright flame in his eyes as Ashen looks away, first to the fountain, then the floor, then the cauldron. Basically anywhere but me.
"We should go," he says. The black smoke swirls from our feet and climbs our legs. He reaches out his hand before it's enveloped by the rising fog, but he doesn't meet my eyes. I lay my palm against his and follow him to the cauldron.
I still feel the rising tide of panic. I still hear the voices of the village. My heart thrums and my breath quickens. I cover my ears and Ashen pulls me into an embrace. It seems tighter than before, and when we arrive at the other side and I recover my breath, it feels like he doesn't want to let go. But he does, and he keeps his eyes away from mine on the long walk to his room.
When we get there, Ashen leaves for a short while to get some food, bringing back a bottle of wine and two glasses. We sit for a long time in silence as we read through the texts from the library. He has wisely given me the werewolf book while he keeps the vampire one to himself.
I read a bit about Semyon's ancestry in Russia, but it's nothing entirely surprising. He's old. He killed his way to power. He's had family come and go, children living and dying. The werewolves may technically be immortals, but they often fight such vicious battles amongst themselves that they don't stick around too long. I guess he's a little unusual in that way; he's more ancient than most. The earliest references date to about my time, before the Romans, before the Greeks, when the Sumerians still held power in the fertile valley of the Tigris and Euphrates.
I reach over for my glass of wine from the side table next to my chair. I'm feeling a little worn out by this day, even though Ashen's blood still hums in my veins. When I look up he's watching me from his chair, his book splayed across his lap in the same pose as the night before.
What?I write, and spin the note on the table between us so he can see it.
"The angel said the wolves needone like you. What do you think he meant?"
I don't know. Someone badass and cool?
"No. That's not it."
Someone that has angel rabies?
"Not that either."
