How is this possible? Is it the book? Or was it something else that’s allowed this to happen?
“What is it? Is everything okay?” Wade says, taking a tentative step towards me.
“Yeah. It’s just—” I tug my eyebrows in and nod. “Long story. But I think I can still do this.”
Wade sighs in relief. “Good. I don’t overly wanna babysit these guys for long.”
I shoot him a grin of agreement and turn back to the enormous tome. Flipping through the pages, I scan each one, looking for the right spells. When I find it, I bend in, studying the words, suddenly able to make sense of what Abigail was doing.
Lifting the grimoire off the pedestal, I walk around it to face the revenants. Then, dropping down, I balance the book on my left knee. Closing my eyes, I tune into the energies around me. The lifeless revenants and the beating heart of Wade. There’s a special quality to each, and it sings me a lullaby that I hadn’t heard before.
When I feel as though I’ve centered myself, I open my eyes. With my pointer finger, I draw the interconnected triangles into the dirt a few feet in front of the revenants.
As if from muscle memory, or perhaps whatever memories linger from Abigail, my hands easily form the symbols needed to inter the bodies and inanimate them. As I do so, each of their eyes glass over with a hazy blue film.
Glancing at Wade from the corner of my eye, his face is open in bewildered amazement.
I stand up, holding open the grimoire so it’s right in front of me. I feel almost like a minister about to marry two people, not lay a horde of them to rest.
Clearing my throat, I stand tall. My words come out a bit scratchy at first, but grow in strength. “Hail all gods, goddesses, and protectors of the Temple of the Soul—each who weigh heaven and earth in delicate balance, and in honor of the Fates’ grand plan. Oh mighty Death, taker of life, I deliver unto you the bodies before me. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, bless them all, so they may slumber in eternal rest.”
As I speak the words, I realize it was likely these very words that called Wade’s father to us. The power in them is not innate from me or even my family—but rather, from death itself.
Seconds after the final word is spoken, each of the bodies standing before me fades away, just as Wade’s grandfather had. Their solid bodies disintegrate into small, glittery granules as they’re extracted from this chamber and entombed in their final resting place. Each body escapes through one of the ten remaining tunnels as if the catacombs themselves know exactly where they should be settled.
When all of them are gone, and Wade and I are alone, I close the grimoire. Exhaling in relief, I stare at the empty space in front of me.
It’s done…
Beside me, Wade also breathes out, but as he turns to face me, his expression is clouded with worry. I pull the book in tight, using it almost as a protective shield.
There’s so much we need to discuss now. So much that needs to be laid out straight. But I don’t know if I’m ready for any of it yet.
He takes three giant strides over to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me in tight. “Autumn, I—”
Before I can stop them, tears stream down my cheeks as the torrent of emotions I’ve been bottling up release. I lean into him but shift to gently place the grimoire at my feet.
“Wade, I know there’s so much…” I begin.
This time, he places both hands along the sides of my face. His lips bear down on mine, and the room swirls with a heady need for him. Reaching up, I entwine my fingertips into his hair, and pull him closer.
Whatever we are… Whatever this is… I don’t even care. All I know is we have each other right here, right now. Wade’s alive and his soul is back where it ought to be.
When he finally pulls back, breaking our kiss, he places his forehead against mine. “Autumn, I’m sorry about everything. About Colton— I know you weren’t keeping things from me to hurt me. It’s just I…”
“I know,” I say, shaking my head. Lifting my gaze to his, I fixate on his beautiful eyes—those extraordinary silver eyes.
His pupils widen, but the more I stare into their depth, the more I’m overcome by their magic. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and after witnessing his firsthand, I can without a doubt say it’s absolutely true. Everything about him, his whole essence, it’s all right there in those tiny, magnificent orbs.
“I should have told you, and you have no idea how many times I wanted to. Or I thought I should. I just…” I sigh, trying to find the right words. “I just want you to be happy and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. Even if I wanted nothing to do with it.”
“None of it matters,” he says, running his thumb across my eyebrow. “Being thrust into the aether has a way of putting everything into perspective.”
“But what about…” I bite my lip, unable to finish the sentence. It’s not a path I’m overly ready to go down, but one I need to, nonetheless.
“I know you have so many questions and I promise to answer them all. I wish I could have answered them for you earlier, I truly do,” Wade says, his eyebrows crumpling in the middle.
“Why couldn’t you?” I ask, dropping my arms and sliding my hands inside his.
He inhales sharply through his nose and tilts his head. “Our kind is sworn to secrecy. If the wrong people were to find the lineage for the Angel of Death...well, let’s just say
