“But it might not be, especially since you thought I was pure blood.” Deep breaths. Keep breathing. My mom might have not been the greatest mom in the world, but the thought of losing another parent aches inside my heart, burns in my soul, makes me feel so alone.
“I’m not sure. I can try and find out though, but it’ll probably take some time.” He pauses, conflicted. “I just want to make sure you prepare yourself for what I find out.”
“You mean, prepare myself for if she’s dead.” My bluntness shocks him, however he quickly composes himself and nods. “Prepare myself for another loss of a family member.” An excruciating revelation clicks inside my head. If I ended up choosing the right side through all of this, I’ll still end up alone if my mom is dead.
“I don’t know why you’re giving her false hope,” Cameron says, materializing in the doorway, looking as though he just showered and shaved; his skin is smooth, his blonde hair perfectly styled and his black shirt and jeans unwrinkled. “You know as well as I do that that wasn’t a joke. That her mother is probably dead…. That Ember has pure blood and that’s how she’s the last one standing…” He shuts his eyes and inhales deeply. “I can feel her mother’s soul in the air, along with a ton of other’s, waiting to be collected.” He reopens his eyes. “Lucky for her, the Reapers seem to be preoccupied with tracking you down at the moment, so her soul has some time left in her body, but still, she’s dead.”
“Well, maybe you can bring her back then,” I say, knowing I’m treading thin water here. “Like you did with that guy in the alley.”
He elevates his eyebrows at me with amusement dancing in his eyes. “You want to pay that price again?” He smirks, looking over my body from head to toe and it feels like he’s touching me, yet he’s not. “Only this time it’s much higher.”
I scowl at him, but part of me wants to run up and hug him—thank him for saving me by giving me the necklace. “What are you doing here?” I glance back at Asher “You said Reaper’s couldn’t come here?”
Cameron rolls his eyes, strutting through the doorway like he owns the place. “Full Reaper’s can’t, but half Reaper, half Angel’s can.”
“I don’t understand.” I look back and forth between the two of them. “Where are we?”
Asher and Cameron exchange a look and then Asher sighs. “Remember how I said that I spend most of my time in a place my mind creates, the one that I lived in. Sort of like an in between… well, we’re there.”
“In your mind?” I ask, flabbergasted.
Asher wavers. “Sort of, but not exactly.”
“Think of it as a place that belongs to only one person,” Cameron says. “And that one person can create whatever they want, build it however they want, and only let in whoever they want.”
“It sounds like a video game,” I remark with a frown.
“You could look at it that way,” Cameron says.
“Well who built this place?” I wonder.
Asher points at himself. “I did.”
“Then why is he here.” I aim a finger at Cameron. “When all he’s done is torture me.”
“You really believe that?” Cameron questions with speculation, eyeballing the necklace on my neck. “Plus, I helped you out back there, all because I care for you,” Cameron says as Asher cringes. “Despite what you think.”
“I don’t think anything,” I mutter, hating that I feel connected to both of them. That, at the moment, I feel a tug-o-war with my emotions; wanting to cave into Cameron, but also melt into Asher.
“Sure you don’t.” Cameron stops just short of the bed, right beside Asher. His face contorts with disgust. “Nice wings, by the way.” His face pinches as he stares at them. “It’s a disgusting look for you.” His head cocks to the side. “Although I do love the eyes.”
My fingers shoot up to my face and I gently touch the skin around them. “What’s wrong with my eyes?” Right on cue, red fills my vision again. For a moment, it looks like the walls are bleeding.
Cameron stares at the back of Asher’s head like he’s mentally compelling him to turn around and look at him. “Do you want to tell her or do you want me to?”
I look at Asher who’s looking at me gravely. “I don’t want to tell her at all,” he says with remorse.
“Well, she’s going to see eventually,” he steps aside and gestures to the mirror hanging on the wall, “so she might as well get it over with.”
I wait for Asher to say something, but he conclusively rises to his feet with a gut-wrenching look on his face as he backs away from me. At first, I think he’s trying to get away from me, but then he holds out his hand for me to take.
Nerves bubble inside my body as I take his offered hand. As he helps me to my feet, I start to tip back, but he pulls me forward, helping me balance.
“Keep your shoulders up,” he says, demonstrating by lifting his own. “It’ll help a little.”
I nod and then raise my shoulders higher, my chest sticking out and bearing more of the weight. Then, with his eyes fastened on mine, he backs up towards the mirror, guiding me along with him, taking small steps as I struggle to stay on my feet. When we reach it, he blocks my view for a moment, reluctant to let me see, but after a lot of mental deliberating, he irrevocably steps to the side and out of the way.
I inch forward, moving slowly until my reflection appears before me.
Wings of black and red.
Tall and strong.
Though shoulders curled in
Cursed with weight.
Eyes like ash.