Ember X (Death Collectors)

chapter 9

I don’t hear or see Asher the next day, or the next and when I text him about hanging out, his response is that he’s busy. It bothers me for some reason. I barely know him, yet knots wind in my stomach every time I think about how it felt when he touched me. It’s like I’ve become obsessed with him and his lips and hands and I don’t like how much he consumes me, yet, I do at the same time.

I’m in the town library, tucked at the table in the farthest corner, writing poetry about my frustration with a book opened at my feet.

In the midst of a foggy field, the answers are hidden

But the impossible journey deems them forbidden

“Have I told you how much I’m sorry,” Raven says, sliding a candy bar across the table.

I glance up from my journal. “How many times are you going to apologize?” I pick up the candy bar. “My teeth are going to rot out if you keep it up.”

“As long as it takes for you to accept it.” She takes a magazine out of her bag.

“How did you know I was here?” I ask.

She smiles. “You always are, when you’re not working or in class. I think you just might be obsessed with words.”

That and beautiful men with piercings. “You know me too well.”

“What are you writing about?” She moves the strap of her tank top over a little and peels a layer of skin off her shoulder blade.

I scratch the title The Unknown on the top of the page. “Stuff. Life… You know you should really get that looked at. I really do think it’s infected.”

She flicks the skin onto the floor. “I did and the doctor said it’s fine.” Her eye twitches and she pretends to pluck some mascara from her eyelashes.

Swirling the pen on the top of the paper, I sketch a poorly drawn Angel. “You can die from infections. Do you know that?”

She peels another layer of skin off, and it’s like she’s molting. “But you know when I’m really going to die and if it was from the infection, you’d make me go to the hospital.”

She has me there. Under the title of my poem, I write:

The Reaper of Death, the Angel of Life.

They walk together in day and night.

“Raven, have you ever heard of a Grim Angel?” I inquire.

She thrums her manicured nails on the table as she considers this. “Maybe… in one of the books I looked through when I was doing my Angel painting project. But I can’t remember exactly what it is. Why? What’s up?”

“I was just looking through some stuff on the internet the other night and I came across a drawing of one. I’ve never heard of them before, though.”

“Why were you looking up Angel stuff on the internet?”

“For a poem I’m working on,” I lie breezily. “Do you still have those books?”

She shakes her head as she twists her pink hair up into a bun. “I returned them here and they had to special order them, so I don’t even know if they’re still here.”

I drop my voice as the librarian walks by, shooting me a dirty look. “Do you remember anything about them at all?”

She turns a page of her magazine. “Only that they are a mix between a Grim Reaper and an Angel of Death. And that they’re super crazy most of the time.”

“How exactly are they supposed to be crazy?” I ask. “I mean, what defines them as being insane? Do they do weird things or rant incoherent thoughts?”

“The books said that they used to sneak around killing innocent people and stealing their souls,” she explains. “Like it was a game or something. And they suffered from hallucinations.”

I need to get my hands on those books.

“So what’s up with you and Asher?” She abruptly changes the topic.

I stop drawing and glance up. “What do you mean?”

She presses me with a look from over the magazine. “Don’t play dumb with me, Ember Rose Edwards. You know what I’m talking about—our knight in shining armor and the reason why you’ve been bummed out all week.”

“I’m not playing dumb, Raven Lilly Monroe,” I retort. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

She taps her lips with a wicked glint in her sapphire eyes. “So, you don’t have a thing for a dark-haired stranger who rescued you from your death omen spasm and who showed you his painting of an Angel… Although, by how stuck you are on him, I’d guess he showed you other stuff of his, too.”

I briefly picture what he’d look like naked and then focus on my poem. “I thought you had a thing for him. Wasn’t he the reason for your meltdown in my closet… And wait, how do you even know about the painting?”

She giggles. “Oh Em, you are such a riot. You can’t almost make out with someone in the art room and expect no one to know about it.” She dabs the tears from the corner of her eyes. “And I’m totally over the Asher thing. Guys are like shoes to me, you know that. I wear them once and then get bored.”

I press down so hard on the paper the pencil breaks. “Did you actually wear Asher?”

She points an accusing finger at me. “The very fact that you ask that means you like him. So I think it’s time you found out where he is. And if he likes you.”

“Raven, this isn’t second grade.” I tip back in the chair and throw the pencil in the trash bin.

She discounts me with a wave of her hand. “Call him. Didn’t you say he gave you his phone number?”

“I already tried to text him and he said he was busy,” I say and close my journal. “Look, I think I need to just get over him. I have too much stuff going on in my life.” I swing my purse over my shoulder, but she snags the handle and rips it off my arm.

“Like what?” She backs away, jiggling the bag out in front of her. “Your life’s pretty easy, Em.”

“Raven,” I warn as she backs down the nearest aisle between the bookshelves. “Don’t even think about it. I swear to God, I’ll never forgive you if you call him.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Em. You’ll always forgive me, no matter what I do.” She spins in her high-heeled boots and dashes off down the aisle.

I chase after her, fuming as she pulls out my cell phone and drops my bag on the floor. I hop over my bag and reach for the back of her shirt as she punches the buttons. A girl at the end of the aisle backs away, eyes wide, legs trembling, probably thinking I’m trying to kill Raven. Raven laughs as she wiggles out of my fingers and then darts around the corner of the bookshelf, intentionally knocking some books off the shelf.

“Raven, please don’t call him.” I trip over the books and round the corner. She has the phone to her ear and dodges my advance, but her ankle rolls and she falls flat on her ass.

I jump on her, accidently bumping my knee into hers, and kicking a row of books to the floor with my boot. Her death pours through me, but I breathe through it. “Give me my phone back.”

She giggles as I try to pry the phone from her fingers. She rolls on her back and pushes herself across the floor with her feet and I crawl after her.

“Hi, Asher, this is Raven,” she says into the phone and I narrow my eyes. “Call Ember when you get the chance. She needs to know if you’re okay and if you like her, because it’s driving her crazy. Literally.”

I pinch her arm hard. “You are the worst friend ever.”

“Ow…” She laughs, throwing her head back. Tears of laughter flood her eyes as she keeps talking in the phone. “In fact, it’s a matter of life or death—she has to know ASAP.” She hangs up the phone.

I glare at her and rip the phone from her hand. “Thanks a lot. Now he’s going to think I’m insane.”

“Aren’t you?” She flutters her eyelashes innocently. “Besides, I was just trying to help and it shouldn’t bother you what other people think. You’ve been through a lot worse than some guy thinking you’re a stalker.”

I turn to my back, putting distance from her and her death. “I don’t know why I care, but I do.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” she says in a heavy-weighted tone. “Guys like Asher don’t really look at girls like you. They’re more my type.”

I wonder if this whole scene was to make Asher think I am insane, so she could have him. “Raven, are you sure—”

Cameron strolls passed us and I stop talking as his eyebrows dip together at Raven and I tangled up in a pile of books.

He stops in front of us and his lips curl into impish grin. “I’m kind of curious what led up to this. Was it an accident or the beginning of something kinky?”

“We fell,” I say, before Raven can feed him some dirty story, and then grab the shelf above my head and pull myself to my feet.

Raven sticks out her hand to Cameron and pouts her bottom lip. “A little help, please.”

Cameron takes her hand and tugs her up. She intentionally trips and braces herself with his shoulders. “Oh my goodness.” She squeezes his bicep. “You must work out like all the time.”

He lifts her hand from his bicep. “Not really.”

“We should get going,” I tell Raven before she can further embarrass herself.

She seductively smiles at Cameron and flips her hair before walking past him, exaggeratedly shaking her ass. “See you later, Em.” She waggles her finger at me and turns the corner.

“Sorry about that,” I say to Cameron as I round the bookshelf and collect my bag from the floor where Raven dropped it. When I turn back around, I almost run into him.

He doesn’t step back though, watching me with his hungry eyes, like he could eat me up. “You dropped this.” He hands me my phone.

I drop the phone in my bag and back up. “I’m real sorry about Raven. She can kind of be a little… overly friendly sometimes.”

“I think she might have some issues,” he informs me with a lazy grin.

“Doesn’t everyone?” I pick up a book to divert my attention away from the lust in his eyes.

He takes the book from my hands, his fingers almost touching mine, but not quite, and then he discards the book onto the shelf. “Okay, I’m going to get straight to the point. I think we should go out on a date.”

“Go out on a date?” I elevate my eyebrows. “Really? You and me?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” he asks, amused.

I glance at my black jeans, my fingerless arm warmers, and my black and red striped tank top, then at his black button-down shirt and his name brand jeans. “I think it’s kind of obvious.”

“We’re not as different as you think,” he assures me confidently. “You like poetry, right? So I was thinking that you and I could go to a poetry slam.”

I sputter a laugh. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but there aren’t poetry slams around here. In fact, the closest thing you’ll probably find is banjo night down at Mamma’s House of Cheese Fries.”

He laughs and it momentarily erases the misery in his eyes. “You don’t think I know that.” He inches forward and the tips of his shoes clip the tips of mine. “There is, however, a Saturday night poetry slam in Jackson.”

I casually step back, seeking room before an accidental touch happens. “What about Mackenzie?”

He matches my step, closing in on me, the heat of his body radiating all over me. “What about her?”

“Are you two like, dating or something? I’ve seen you a ton of times around town together.” My elbow bumps the shelf and books topple over.

“We’re just friends.” He crosses his arms and casually leans against the bookshelf.

“Yeah, but you guys won’t be, if you go out with me,” I say and he fakes a befuddled look. “Oh, don’t pretend like you haven’t heard what people say about me: cult member, Satan worshiper, murderer.”

“And haven’t you heard that I like to spend time in the cemetery, digging up graves.” He dips his head in toward me and his warm breath embraces my cheeks. “Say yes, Ember. Please.” There’s a begging to his tone that causes my heart to miss a beat.

The back of my mind screams that it’s wrong, that something is off about the whole situation, but there’s a pull toward him, like he’s a magnet and I’m welded of metal.

“Okay,” I say, startled by my answer. “It’s a date, then.”

He backs toward the door. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight.” He flashes me a grin of perfection and then pushes out the door.

***

“I hate this,” Raven complains later that day in the library. I made her stay with me at the library while I looked for a book about Grim Angels and then she could give me a ride home. I haven’t told her yet about my date with Cameron, because I know she’ll freak out and make a scene.

“I won’t be too much longer,” I say, searching through the index of a book. “You can survive a few minutes longer.”

“Can’t you just search the internet?”

“I already did.”

“Fine. I’m walking next door to get a soda. When I get back, you better be done.” Raven grabs her purse and a magazine and walks outside.

The book has nothing I’m looking for so I shut it and walk up to the counter. Ms. Kinsley, the middle-aged librarian with auburn hair and green eyes, looks up from her computer.

“Can I help you?” Her standoffish tone probably means she knows who I am.

“Do you have any books,” I say, “that perhaps focus on the more uncommon creatures of mythology?”

She types something on the keyboard. “There might be some in the back, in the mythology section, but I don’t know what they focus on.”

“Thanks,” I say and walk for the bookshelves. At the back, is the mythology section and I pull out the heaviest book I can find, and camp down on the floor with it. The index has nothing titled Grim Angels, however there is a section on “The Curse of the Angels.”

The curse of the Angels is a result of a battle that took place a long time ago. Most refer to it as the battle between good and evil, but during the era, people believed the only theme to be evil.

The battle allegedly started from a dispute over souls. Angels of Death were the carriers of the innocent souls, and Grim Reapers the carriers of the evil souls. However, when the Reapers became greedy and began stealing the souls of the innocent, a battle broke out between the two. As a form of punishment, Michael, the ruler of the Angels of Death, and Abaddon, the ruler of the Grim Reapers, cursed the warriors to Earth and bound them there with a breed that carried both group’s blood.

Grim Angels—half Grim Reaper, half Angel of Death—have walked the earth for centuries undetected by humans. Only would they be free when the last Grim Angel made the choice between good and evil.

The next section switches to Legend of Faeries. I thrum my finger on top of the book, having no idea what to do with what I read. I start to put the book back on the shelf when wet droplets trickle down the back of my neck.

I wipe them away, looking behind me, and then at my hand. “Blood?” I glance up at the ceiling and blood splatters against my forehead. I quickly smear it away and jump to my feet. Hanging by a rope from the ceiling is the body of Farrah Taverson, her medieval dress soaked with blood and her eyes are bleeding.

“Oh my God,” I breathe, backing away. What do I do? What do I do? I rub my eyes, but she stays there, her feet swaying from the breeze of the vent next to her head.

I back away toward the edge of the shelf, when I crash into someone.

I whirl around, breathing loudly. “Shit.”

“Ember, are you okay?” Cameron eyes me over and his gaze lands on my forehead. “Did you hurt yourself?”

I wipe my forehead with the sleeve of my shirt and there’s blood on it. “Ummm…” I glance behind me at the ceiling and her body is gone, but the blood is real.

“I must have scratched myself on the edge of the shelf when I was pulling the book out,” I lie.

He scans me over warily. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re going to be sick or something.”

“I’m fine.” I swallow hard and start to head back to the table.

He follows after me. “Are you planning on going to the cemetery tonight?”

“I don’t think so… I really think I might need to get some rest.”

“Alright, everyone,” Ms. Kinsley stands up from her chair and shuts her computer off. “Everyone needs to get there stuff and exit the library. I need to lock up early to go to a town meeting.”

As I gather my books and bag from the table, Cameron wipes some remaining blood from my hair with the sleeve of his shirt. “Such a shame.” He grins slyly. “I’ve been dying to get you alone again, but I guess I can wait until tomorrow.”

“About that,” I start to cancel, not wanting to add more to my cracking plate. “I think I—”

“I’ll pick you up at eight,” he cuts me off, sensing a rejection. Backing away, he runs his fingers through the locks of his blonde hair. “I promise, I’ll give you the time of your life in ways you can only dream about.” The way he says it sends a chill over my skin.

“Oh my God.” Raven comes running up to me, with her purse on her shoulder and the car key and a bottle of soda in her hand. “Did you hear?”

I shake my head, my eyes locked on Cameron as he shoves through the exit doors. “No, what?”

“Farrah Taverson’s body was found next to the lake.” Raven says as we walk out the door of the library and step onto the sidewalk. The street is eerily empty as if it’s suddenly become a ghost town. “I guess she told a few friends she was going to go looking for Laden. Some boaters found her floating in the water, and she had stab wounds and there were feathers in the pockets of her dress. They think it’s murder. And probably the same one who killed Laden and your—”

“Neither of their bodies has been found.” My heart crushes into tiny bits and pieces that stab into my stomach. “So they might not be dead.”

She gives me a look of pity. “Yeah, maybe.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “How do you know this?”

She leans in and whispers, “I overheard this guy talking to a cop about it when I was walking into the gas station,”

What if what Raven is saying is true? How did I see the body? Could my death omens be cranking up and now I can see them without touching someone? I’m not sure—I’m not sure about anything anymore.

“What’s wrong, Em?” Raven asks, unlocking her car. “You look like you saw a ghost or something.”

Or something. “I’m fine.” I frown, opening the passenger door.

She frowns at me with doubt from over the top of the car. “Are you sure?”

I nod, ducking into the car. “Yeah, absolutely one hundred percent fine.”

“Want to know something really creepy,” Raven says, turning the keys in the ignition. “I got this really strange text from Farrah and now I’m wondering if it had something to do with this. Like maybe she was being stalked by the murderer and was starting to get scared.”

“Why would she send you a text?” I take out my cell phone and check my messages. “I didn’t know you guys were friends.”

“We talk a lot in art class.” She cranes her head and backs out of the parking spot.

I toss my cell phone into my bag. “What did the message say?”

She shoots me a haunting look. “Fear the Reaper.”

***

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” Raven bounces up and down in the middle of my bedroom, holding my hand. Her bangle bracelets jingle and her eyes are as sparkly as her glitter eyeliner. “This is so amazing. Why didn’t you tell me in the car?”

“Because I knew you’d want to bounce up and down, which is a total road hazard.” I wiggle my hand free and shake off her death. She’s been really bad lately about touching me. “But don’t you think it’s a little weird that he asked me out? I mean, I really don’t seem like his type.”

She flops down on my bed and dramatically drapes her arm over her head. “Oh, Em, you are so naïve sometimes.” She peeks out from underneath her arm. “Did you ever read that romance book I gave you? It has a lot of good tips about what goes where.” She laughs.

“I know where everything goes.” I feel like shit, but try to play it off, convincing myself that what happened with Farrah was just my death omen evolving. “But I still don’t know if I should go…”

“Are you having second thoughts because of Asher?” She frowns. “Because I don’t think you should date him.”

I check my messages and then toss the phone on the dresser. “At the library, you said the opposite.”

“No, I said you should call him and find out if he likes you. And obviously he doesn’t, since he hasn’t called back.” Her lips twist to a smile as she peeks out from under her arm. “And now you have tall, blonde, and sexy wanting you.”

“It’s just a date.” I write the word solitude on my wall and then below it: Do you know me at all? Are my words just air? Is my heart easy to spare? “I don’t have him.”

She slants up on her elbows and scowls at my words. “Why did you just write that?”

I shrug and circle the words: you, are, my, and heart. “Why do I write anything?”

She leaps off the bed, steals the marker from my hands, and traces over the letters until the words transform into a small sketch of an intricate Angel. Then she clicks the cap on and hands the marker to me. “There. That’s much better.”

We grow silent and she gathers her purse from the bed. “I’m going to take off. Call me tomorrow before you go on your big date and if he’s as good in bed as he looks… And wear something sexy that shows off your curves.” She eyes my clothes and slips out into the hallway.

I drop down on the bed and pick up the romance novel from my nightstand. Each and every page has me pulling faces, not at what they’re doing, but at the cheesiness. It’s a relief when my phone rings. I chuck the book aside and grab my phone off the dresser.

I yawn and stretch out my arms. “Hello.”

“Hey, it’s me,” Asher says.

I pause. “Hey.”

He hesitates. “Look, Ember, can we talk about something in person? There’s something really important that I need to tell you.”

“Umm… is this about the message Raven left you because that was all her.”

“Kind of.” His tone is cautious. “But there’s also something I want to show you.”

“Okay… What time are you going to be here?”

His somber tone doesn’t alleviate the tension. “Can I pick you up in like fifteen minutes?”

I tell him yes and we say goodbye. I pull my black button up vest over my red and black top, and then slip on a pair of holey jeans, and boots. I wait for Asher on the living room couch, trying not to get too pumped up about seeing him. Ian’s not at home and I haven’t seen my mom since she told me I’d turn into a killer like my dad. But that happens when she drinks a lot. My dad wasn’t a killer. He liked his bar fights, and did some questionable things, but he never sent anyone to their grave.

I turn on the TV, but the satellite’s been disconnected. “Did she forget to pay the bill again?” I dial my mom’s cell, but it sends me straight to voicemail. I hang up and search the cabinet drawers for the bill. There are stacks and stacks of papers, batteries, tacks, pens, but no bills.

Suddenly the lights flip off and the house suffocates in darkness, except for the faint cast of the outside light filtering through the curtains.

“Okay… did she forget to pay the power bill too?” I fumble through the drawer and pull out a flashlight. I shine the light around the room as I walk toward the front door. The floorboards creak under my feet and I can hear heavy breathing.

I’m not alone.

My boot catches on something solid, I fall flat on my face, and the flashlight flies out of my hand and rolls across the floor. My legs tangle with something and the silence of their body is more frightening than if I felt their death.

“Asher?” I squint through the dark down at my legs.

A dark figure slowly rises from the floor. The head is enormous, its arms long, and its body stretches to the ceiling. A cape flows to the ground and armors its face. Nope, not Asher.

“Ember,” it breathes, reaching for me. “Don’t be afraid. You know I’d never hurt you.”

“You stay the hell away from me.” I flip over onto my stomach, taking out the table as I scramble to my feet and sprint across the room for the flashlight. I scoop it up and spin around, sweeping the light across the room.

But he’s gone.

I back for the door, sliding my phone out of my pocket. I dial Ian’s number. “Come on, come on, come—”

The doorbell rings. Startled, I drop my phone on the floor and the back pops off. Cursing, I snatch up the pieces and quickly throw open the door.

Asher looks sexy as hell, and my legs nearly give out at the sight of him. His inky black hair hangs in his gorgeous slate eyes and the sleeves of his black shirt are pushed up, showing off his lean arms. My eyes stray down lower, to where his jeans ride low on his hips, and I picture myself trailing kisses down his abs and feel him through his jeans like he did with me in the art room.

Damn Raven and her dirty books. They’re messing with my head.

He shields his eyes with his hands. “Do you blind every guy that shows up on your porch?” he jokes.

I click off the flashlight and toss it on the end table. “Sorry, the power went out.”

I shut the door behind me as I step outside, then we walk silently to his car and get in. Through my living room window, the caped visitor watches me and I can’t seem to take my eyes off him.

Asher turns the stereo down and rotates in his seat to face me. “Is something wrong?” He tracks the course of my gaze. “What are you looking at? Did you forget to turn something off?”

I tear my attention away from the house. Away from him. “No, everything’s good. So what did you want to show me?”

He grins as he backs down the driveway. “It’s a surprise.”

I try to be happy, but I’m severely distracted by the return of an old friend, the Grim Reaper. The last time he showed up, he ruined my life.