Taking life. Never giving it back.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Finn narrowed his gaze at me. “You love your job. And what are you doing here anyway…”
Finn’s gaze darted down to my hand, wrapped tightly around the scythe there. It burned between my fingers, making them glitter and glow. He frowned as he slowly made the connection. His eyes swung from the house to my hand and back again like a pendulum, until I could practically hear the pieces click into place inside his mind.
“No.” It was only one word, but it spoke thousands. Finn stepped in front of me, blocking my view.
“Not him, Anaya. Not after everything he’s already been through. It’ll kill Emma. Just give us some time to figure it out. Help us.”
“For once, this doesn’t have anything to do with Emma,” I said, taking a deep breath. I didn’t need it, but the pressure in my lungs felt good. “I got a call. I’m doing my job.”
Balthazar had made it very clear what would happen if I didn’t. It wasn’t worth the risk.
“You don’t have to.”
I turned my golden glare on him, letting his words swim around in my mind. If only they were the truth. I would have given anything. “Yes. I do.”
I pushed past Finn and seeped through the brick, leaving the suffocating warmth of the oncoming summer behind me. The second I stepped into the empty hall, the scent of everything Cash hit me like a slap in the face. But this wasn’t just Cash. This was his father’s cologne. The scent of their dinner simmering on the stove. The smell of leather and cigars and the leftover scent of paint that followed
Cash wherever he went. This was everything that made up his family. His life. There was so much more to him than that cold studio filled with portraits of the dead. I wondered if he’d ever see it. I doubted it after today.
I drifted down the hall and stopped at Cash’s bedroom. Finn was banging on the front door. I just wanted to see him one more time before I broke everything all over again. I needed it. I let my fingertips linger on his white doorframe, waiting for him to emerge. Cash breezed through the doorway, pulling a T-shirt over his head. Reaching out, I let my fingers brush over his bare ribs just before the shirt covered them, then cursed myself for doing it. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it. I had to make him stop. Had to prolong this moment. Delay the inevitable. I just wanted him to have a few more seconds of peace. Cash stumbled to a stop, looking confused, and ran his hand over the very spot I’d grazed. He closed his eyes like he was trying to compose himself and then darted down the hall.
I sank down onto the carpet and pulled my knees up to my chest. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t take this away from him. Not this. I glanced down at my scythe, burning, throbbing, wanting the soul it came to take.
“Whoa! What the hell are you talking about, man?” Cash backed into the hall and Finn followed. He caught sight of me hunkered down like a coward in the hall and pressed his lips into a tight line.
“She’s going to take you,” Finn said looking at me. “She’s here. Now.”
“N-n-n-no, she’s not.” The color drained from Cash’s face, leaving it ash white as he combed his fingers through his damp hair. “She’s always here.” He spun around, searching. “Tell him, Anaya. Tell him what you told me. You said it wasn’t time yet.”
I swallowed and closed my eyes, feeling like another piece of the puzzle that was me and Cash had snapped into place.
“Damn it, Anaya, tell him! You promised me.” His chest started a steady rise and fall as he tried to catch his breath.
Finn narrowed his gaze at me. “You talked to him? You let him see you? What were you thinking?”
Finn groaned. “Balthazar will have your head for this.”
If only he knew the sick game Balthazar was playing. I was just another pawn. I nodded and smoothed my white dress over my knees as I stood. I couldn’t help but think it shouldn’t be so white, so pure. With all of the death I’d touched, I should have been cloaked in bloodred or, better yet, Easton’s darkness.
“Why won’t she let me see her?” Cash shouted. “Come on, Anaya. I thought we were past the hiding.”
“I’m not here to take him,” I said carefully, looking at Finn as I slid the blade from its holster at my side. Finn took a slow step back and turned his attention to the kitchen, where Cash’s father was scraping something that smelled burned off a frying pan.
I moved between them and stopped at the end of the hall. But I didn’t look at Cash. I didn’t look at
Finn. I couldn’t. Instead I spoke to the ceiling, hoping Finn would hear.
“Tell him…I’m sorry.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m so, so sorry.”
I heard the frying pan clatter to the floor and my eyes opened. I didn’t listen to Cash shouting behind me. Didn’t even flinch when he rushed right through me like I was nothing more than a wisp of wind. I followed him into the kitchen where he knelt over his unconscious father and beat on his chest.
He scrambled for his cell phone and uselessly called 911. All I could think about was the heat burning me from the inside out. Needing. Wanting. Clawing.
I closed my eyes and let the weight of the blade slice though the smoky kitchen air and sink into his father’s chest.
Chapter 11
“Stop looking at me like that,” I snapped at Finn and his sad eyes. I couldn’t take this. The waiting.
The not knowing. He may have been an absentee asshole most of my life, but that didn’t change the fact that he was my dad. And he was somewhere in this hospital, alive, dead, dying, afraid. I didn’t know. I shoved my fingers into my hair and pulled at the long spikes until my scalp throbbed. I tapped my foot to keep from kicking something. Destroying something.
“I just…” Finn averted his gaze to the scuffed linoleum floor and watched a nurse’s shoes scurry by.
I didn’t really see the nurse. I was too busy watching the rotten little shadow demon that had followed me here. It crawled in creepy little circles around me, filling up my nostrils with its disgusting scent. I finally managed to break my attention away from it to realize Finn hadn’t finished.
“You just what?”
“I don’t want you to get your hopes up.” Hesitantly, he met my gaze. “She was there for—”
“For
Finn watched an old man on a stretcher roll by. Eerily silent. Dead white. A shadow hovered at the foot of his bed, waiting. So…they didn’t spend all their time harassing just me, then.
Finn kept staring even after he’d been pushed out of sight. “I was wrong.”
“Stop saying that!”
Emma and her mom rushed down the hall toward us and I jerked my hands out of my hair and bit my tongue. My dad was not dead. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. I’d seen the man win impossible cases.
Survive the hell my mom had left him in for eleven years. Dad was built from steel. It was going to take more than a freaking heart attack to bring him down. And he wouldn’t leave me alone. Not like this.
“Cash?” Emma touched my shoulder and I shook my head, realizing from everyone’s worried expressions that they’d probably said my name more than once.
“He’s gonna be fine, Em,” I said, feeling my voice catch around the uncertain
Emma looked at Finn then back to me, nodding. “Right. He’s going to be fine.”
My gaze drifted down to the shadow circling Emma’s ankles. Flicking its dripping tongue out to get a taste of the denim that covered her calf. Without even thinking, I shoved her away and knelt down in front of it. Noah had grabbed one. If we were so much alike, wouldn’t I be able to do the same? And right now, choking one of these little bastards sounded too damn good to pass up. I flexed my fingers, watching it rise up within an inch of my hand, then reached out to grab it. Pain exploded across my hand like I’d dipped it into a flame and the shadow demon passed through my hand like smoke.