Ember X (Death Collectors)

chapter 14

Some people believe that right before death, a person reaches a point of comfort and numbness and it allows them to see images of every blissful, delighted, ecstatic moment they’ve ever experienced in their lifetime. I’ve died twice, and each time I see the Reaper. So is that supposed to be my happy moment?

“Wake up.” Someone pats my face. “Em, open your f*cking eyes. You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

My eyes roll open to the grey sky, Raven’s sapphire eyes, and a thousand wilting roses covering the ground, charred, the once soft petals now ash upon the singed grass.

I gradually sit up and rub the dirt from my skin, then twist my arms and stretch my legs out.

Raven sighs and leans back to give me breathing room. “Holy shit, Em. What happened?”

Every single tree within a quarter mile radius is dead, dried out, stripped of leaves and the dirt is cracked out like desert sand.

Did I do this?

“I have no idea…” I press my hand over my beating heart. “How did you find me?”

She holds up the necklace and points back at the hill. “This was lying on the side of the road up there.” She hands it to me and I clip it back around my neck, then she grabs my arm and helps me to my feet.

Her death is as dusky as the sky, but I can feel her life pumping through her veins.

“I was hit by a car… I think.” My brain is hazy, but I remember tumbling down the hill, bones breaking, skin rupturing open. “I’m not sure… Can you just take me home?”

She studies me with uneasiness in her eyes. “I think we should take you to a doctor.”

I shake my arms, checking for pain, but everything feels all right, mended, healed. “No doctors. I just want to go home.”

She wraps her arm around my lower back. Her death is silent, but her life whispers to me: Take me, take me, take me.

It takes a while, but we accomplish the walk back and make it to the top of the hill where the trees are thriving with life again. Her car is parked on the side of the road with the engine running and the driver’s door open.

I wiggle from her arms, feeling strangely liberated. “Maybe I should walk home.”

“Get in the car,” she orders sternly, but there’s a hint of exhaustion in her expression. “You need to go back home. There’s officially a town curfew in affect now that Farrah’s body was found.”

Maybe the same person who killed her is trying to kill me.

“Okay.” I hop in the car and slam the door.

She climbs into the driver’s seat and buckles her seatbelt, then she leans over the console and clips mine, before pulling the car out onto the road. “I really, really think you should go see a doctor. You look like shit.”

“I’m fine.” I pluck a rose from my hair and run my fingers along the dried petals, fascinated with its lack of luster. “A car just bumped me a little and I tripped down the hill.”

“Yeah, right.” She shifts her car and speeds down the highway, the tires squealing. “You don’t just trip after a car bumps into you. It ran you over.”

“I’m not going to the doctor,” I insist. “So take me home.”

She flinches at my hostile tone and doesn’t say a word for the rest of the drive.

***

I’ve calmed down by the time we pull up to my house. It’s still early but the sky is bleak with clouds. The lights are on in the living room and my mom’s car is parked in the driveway.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and wrap my fingers around the door handle. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I just feel so… confused.”

Raven presses her lips together and eyes my house. “It’s okay. You were still my friend through my little meltdown.”

“About Laden?” I brush the dirt off the front of my legs.

She nods slowly. “I’m not ready to talk about what happened yet, but I promise you, I had nothing to do with his disappearance. And you have to promise me you’ll tell me what happened today, when you’re ready.”

“You mean with Cameron?” I ask, pulling on the handle and cracking the door open. “Or with the car?”

There are bags under her eyes and her olive complexion looks pallid. “Both.”

“Cameron turned out to be a douche bag.” I shove open the car door. “And when I’m ready, I’ll try to explain what happened with the car.”

She smiles. “I love you, Em. You know that, right?”

“I love you too.” And at that moment I mean it.

I climb out of the car and go into the house. My mom is sifting through the bills at the kitchen table with takeout in front of her. She has on her uniform, a checkered dress covered by a white apron, and her hair is pulled up into a bun.

“Where have you been?” she asks, looking up from the bills.

I step into the kitchen. “I was out at the lake.”

Her brown eyes bulge. “Why are you covered in dirt and scratched?”

“I picked a fight with a rose bush.”

“And you lost?”

“No, I think I might have won.” I still have the dead rose in my hand and I drop it on the table.

She sets the papers down and stares at the rose. “Where did you get that?”

“That’s what was left over from the fight.” I plop down in a chair and grab a fry from the takeout bag.

She picks up the rose, twirls it in her fingers, and dead rose petals float to the table. “You know I never expected your dad to leave.”

“Which time?” I chew on the fry. “When he moved out or when he disappeared?”

“Ember, I hope you don’t think your dad’s coming back.” She places the rose on the table. “He’s probably dead.”

“I know that.” I pick up the phone bill from the table, stamped with a bright red OVERDUE. “But I won’t completely accept it until they find his body.”

She collects the trash and tosses it in the garbage. “I never meant to blame Grandma’s death on you.” She slips on her jacket and fastens the buttons. “I was just upset.” She pats my shoulder and sweeps my hair back like how she did when I was a child. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here.” I nod, trying not to cry, and she grabs her keys from the counter. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

After she leaves, I head up to the bathroom and check her prescription bottle in the medicine cabinet. She’s been taking her meds again, which might explain the uplift in her attitude.

I shut the cabinet and step out into the hallway. On the way to my room, I run into Ian.

“You look like shit,” he discloses, eyeing my dirty clothes. “Ember, that guy didn’t… Did he try…”

I shake my head before he can finish. “I tripped down a hill.”

He slips on a faded flannel jacket. “Hey, I got someone coming over later tonight, so don’t lock up.”

“I never lock up,” I say, plucking dry grass out of my hair. “And did you know mom’s been taking her meds again?”

He ruffles his hair and pulls the hood of his jacket over his head “Yeah, I talked to her this morning. She showed up after you left, totally out of it, and I got her to take them.”

“What about you?” I ask. “Are you still taking yours?”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course.”

“Is that the only drug you’re taking?”

He tucks his hands in his pockets. “You know I don’t do that crap anymore. Not since… Well, anyway, I’m going to check out for a little bit. And like I said, leave the door unlocked just in case my friend shows up before me.” He pauses at the top of the stairway. “Oh yeah, and if I were you, I’d go for the one with the dark hair.”

I grip my bedroom doorknob. “What are you talking about?”

“The guy thing.” He starts down the stairs. “I don’t like that Cameron guy… He’s too… I don’t know, cocky or something—definitely not your type.”

“You haven’t even met Asher yet,” I argue with no valid point because I want Asher too.

He shrugs and vanishes down the stairs, and moments later, the front door slams shut. I sigh and open my bedroom door. All I want to do is take a hot shower and wash off today.

“Hey.”

The sound of his voice sends my heart soaring. Asher sitting on my bed with the hood of his jacket pulled over his head, and he’s playing with the raven feather. The window is open and the wind gusts in, flapping the edges of the papers and pictures hanging on my walls.

“How did you get in here?” I ask, shutting the door.

He looks up from the feather with hooded eyes. “Your brother let me in.”

“So that’s what the remark was about,” I mumble and then search for the right words. “What happened earlier… with Cameron—I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what exactly?” There’s an underlying meaning in his words. He sets the feather down on the bed, slides the hood off his head, and rakes his fingers through his hair.

“Do you really want me to tell you?” I slant back against the door and fold my arms.

With his eyes secured on mine, he stands up. “I need to know—it’s driving me crazy not knowing.” He skims my body. “Especially when you look like that.”

I rub the leftover dirt off my arm. “I fell down a hill.”

He shakes his head and takes slow strides toward me, inching closer, and eliminating some of the space between us. “I’m not talking about the dirt all over you.”

“Oh.” I glance down at the ribbon on my shirt that’s halfway undone. “He took me up to the lake, jumped in the water, and got my necklace out my car at the bottom of the lake.”

Surprisingly, he’s unfazed. “And…” He takes another step toward me.

“And then half the town showed up and I bailed. I started walking down the highway. A car swerved at me and I fell down a hill.”

He’s a sliver of space from me and I can feel the heat emitting from his body. “A car swerved at you?”

I force the lump down in my throat. “That’s how I fell down the hill.”

“Did they do it on purpose?” he asks.

I shrug. “It’s hard to say, but maybe.”

He shuts his eyes and inhales deeply through his nose. When he opens his eyelids back up, his pupils are dilated, only a slender ring of grey showing. He places his hands on the door, entrapping me between his arms. “Are you okay?” His eyes investigate my body for wounds, but every one of the cuts and bruises have already healed.

I nod, unable to look away from his eyes. “I already told you, I’m a walking miracle.”

His gaze flicks to my lips and his voice deepens to a growl. “Did he kiss you?”

“Huh?”

“Cameron.” His voice is gravelly. “Did he kiss you?”

My stomach somersaults and I lick my cracked lips. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

He drags his tongue ring along the edge of his teeth. “I need to know or else it will drive me f*cking crazy.”

“He kissed my neck,” I divulge truthfully with a wince. “And kind of my chest.”

“That’s it?” His pierced eyebrow bows up. “That’s the only place he kissed you?”

I don’t get why he doesn’t seem to think that it’s bad, because it is. In fact, I feel kind of slutty. “That’s the only place he kissed me… but I don’t get why you’re acting like it’s not a big deal, because it is.”

“Was it a big deal to you?” he questions. “Did you… did you like it?”

I consider what he said. Did I like it? Honestly, thinking about it now, the feelings that I felt with Cameron were based more on powerful seduction then actually feelings. With Asher, things are powerful on an intense emotional aspect.

“I like when you kiss me,” I say, running my hand up the front of his shirt, feeling the hardness of his firm muscles beneath it. “I don’t want him to kiss me again… just you…”

His breathing quickens and his eyes turn animalistic, the small amount of grey diminishing, so there’s nothing but the pupil. “Can I kiss you now?”

Why does he always ask first? I clutch the front of his shirt and jerk him against me, our lips uniting with a yielding static. His lips don’t protest and he easily slips his tongue inside my very enthusiastic mouth, bringing passion to every portion of my body.

Grabbing the backs of my legs, he lifts me up and my legs hook around his waist, then he carries me to the bed where we fall together. I feel alive and invigorated. Nothing exists at the moment, but him and me.

My hands find the zipper of his jacket and I start to unzip it. He takes the hint, leaning up enough to slip his arms out of the sleeves and shuck it off. He has a plaid shirt on underneath and I fumble to unbutton it, but he catches my hand and ceases me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, breathless, his lips swollen. “You seem anxious.”

I flick another button undone. “I’m fine.”

“But I don’t want us to move too fast,” he says as I unfasten a button. “Things have already moved too fast and I’m afraid if we start up again… in the heat of the moment… we might not be able to stop.”

“You don’t want this?” God, please say no.

“No.” He cups my cheek with his hand. “But it doesn’t matter what I want… it’s what you want.”

“I want you,” I say, breathing in the stillness of his touch as he grazes the pad of his thumb across my cheek. “I feel like… I feel like I’ve been waiting around for you for forever.” It sounds stupid, but it’s the truth and it makes him smile a little.

He slowly unbuttons the rest of his shirt, slips it off, and tosses it next to his jacket. My breath catches at his lean muscles and the tattoos inked on his smooth skin. On the front section of his right rib is an Angel with black feathers spanning from her back and there are tears falling from her eyes. Her black hair flows to her back and the feathers are molting. On his opposing rib there’s an inscription tattooed and I run my fingers along the cursive writing:

Nigredo caped terra et possederunt corpora mortale.

Ignis acquiritur super agros et fames possederunt maria.

Mors vincit iram et Angelos morte. Erat, sed omne sacrificium unum contrarium.

Morte puellae umero uno utrisque coniunctum esset electio salvificem mundum.

Sed non facile ad pugnam.

He covers his body with mine, so every part of us is aligned perfectly, and I wrap my arms around him, gripping his shoulder blades, and urge him closer. He kisses me, sucking on my bottom lip, biting it, grazing his tongue ring along the inside, before trailing delicate kisses down my neck. My body conforms to his, steaming with desire, and the need for more silence. I want to forget about this night. I want to be with him.

My chest heaves as he unties the ribbon of my shirt and it slides open, then, pulling me up by the arms, he jerks it over my head and unclips my bra. I shut my eyes and let the beautiful moment swallow me up, before his lips seal back to mine.

Every time he takes a breath, my nipples graze his chest. I keep gasping and moaning until he can’t take it anymore. There’s something inside me that needs to be filled, a burning sensation that almost hurts, and I need it taken care of.

He slides off my boots and then rips my shorts and panties off, and then he takes off his jeans and boxers, before covering his body with mine.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I’m nervous, not about the actual act of intimacy, but about the pain. Raven told me horror stories of when she lost her virginity and how badly it hurt, but she assured me it was worth it.

Smoothing my hair back, he looks me in the eye. “Are you sure?”

I nod without hesitation, knowing this is the right moment. For me. “Positive.”

His throat muscles work as he swallows hard and then he straightens his arms and pushes himself off me. I’m stunned that he’s leaving and I cover my chest, wondering why.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He grabs his jeans off the floor and then reaches into the back pocket, taking out a condom, and I release a breath trapped in my chest. He moves back over to the bed and the mattress concaves beneath his weight as he crawls back over me.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, tucking my hair out of my face. “That’s the first thing I thought when I saw you at the party.”

I lick my lips, anxious and excited as he situates himself between my legs, with one arm on each side of my head.

My heart thumps in my chest as I bend my knees up and glide my hands up his back as he leans down to passionately kiss me. My legs wrap around his waist as he begins to slide into me.

Holy hell it hurts. Like I’m being torn apart in the most unnatural way possible. The further he goes in, the worse the pain gets and I struggle not to cry out.

As my legs tighten around his waist, he moves his lips back from mine and brushes my hair out of my eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks, holding very still, halfway inside me, and his eyes are concealed by indecisiveness. “This is your first time… isn’t it?”

Is it that obvious? I nod my head, and wanting to get it over, curve my hips up, gripping onto him and forcing him all the way in. I breathe in and out and his jaw tightens, not in pain, but in restrain.

“It’s okay,” I tell him, loosening my legs up, getting use to him.

He closes his eyes, his hand running down my side, tracing the bumps of my ribs, until he reaches my hips. Gripping tightly, he thrust himself inside me, and my eyes roll back as my back bends upward.

“God… Ember…” His eyes open and his breathing is ragged, matching mine, and our chests rise and fall in harmony.

I pull him closer and he rocks into me again, the pain subsides and is replaced by sheer and wonderful pleasure. I move my hips up, wanting more, and he moves with me, pushing harder and harder. He holds my gaze, watching me intently as I bite my lip to keep from crying out. I stab my nails into his back, and he lets out a throating groan as his movements become faster. All the pain dissipates and a deprived longing floods my body. I move with him, our bodies flawlessly colliding as he bites at my neck and grabs my breast. My skin is dampening and my entire body starts to tingle. With one last deep thrust, a jolt of heat spirals through my body and I tip my head back, my eyes shutting in sheer ecstasy as I fall apart. My legs tighten around him as I gasp, barely able to breathe.

Moments later, Asher’s movements begin to slow and become jerkier, then he stills. His head is tipped down and his breath is rapid and hot against my neck as he kisses it.

“Ember… that was…” he searches for words.

“Amazing. Perfect. Flawless. Absolute. Undyingly and everlastingly wanted and needed.” I whisper the words I will later sketch on my wall about this precise moment and everything I felt with it.

He smiles as he leans back and looks me in the eye. “I was going to say incredible, but those work too.”

A smile turns at my lips and I pull him down so I can kiss him. After a very long, mouth-watering kiss, he pulls out of me and then we lie in bed together. His arm is tucked under me and my head rest on his chest. I’m distracted by tonight’s events. In the heat of the blistering moment, I’d forgotten about the car crash and my death. Just like that. But why? Because I had sex? For some reason I think there might be more to it than that. Like maybe Asher might have a gift himself? The gift of silence perhaps.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, playing with my hair.

“Life and death,” I admit.

He hesitates. “You know you can tell me stuff, right? I feel like… I don’t know... it feels like you keep things to yourself, like you think that for some reason you can’t trust anyone.”

My dad’s words dance through my head. Emmy, if there’s one thing you need to know about life, it’s to never ever trust anyone or anything. Life is a f*cking mind game and you and I are the pawns.

“I want you to get to know me and open up,” he adds. “I feel like you have a lot of things bottled up in you.”

“So do you, like with your father. You don’t like to talk about him and you never did fully explain why you moved here.” I bite down on my tongue. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what my problem is.” Head trauma. Death. Or maybe it’s because my body tingles in every spot he touched me.

He swallows hard. “No, it’s okay.” He slides down so we are at eye level and presses our bare chests together. “You want to know something about me, then I’ll tell you… I moved here to escape the memory of my dad. Even after he died, the painful memories of when he was around still stayed in the house, which he left me in his will… every place we went together… the memories were everywhere and I needed an escape—an escape from death.”

“I completely understand.” I feel like a bitch. “I shouldn’t have forced you to tell me that.”

“I wanted to tell you.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and momentarily devours me with his lips. “Because I want you to feel comfortable sharing things with me.”

I open my mouth to tell him everything, spill out my heart and soul, but again, my dad’s words echo in my mind. “I sometimes feel like life is just one big test to see how long we can survive.”

I tuck my head into his chest and squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for him to leave.

“Do you want to hear what my tattoo means?” he asks, his voice soft like a feather.

I’m surprised. I thought he would get mad or think I was insane. “Yeah, I’d love to hear it.”

“It’s actually a story my father used to tell me all the time.” He confines my hand against his chest and his heart beats swiftly against my palm. “Blackness caped the land and possessed the bodies of the mortals. Fire acquired over the fields and famine possessed the oceans. The wrath of death was winning and the Angels of Death suffered. It was the end, but a single sacrifice reversed it all. One beautiful Grim Angel with death in her blood and on her shoulders connected them all, and with a single choice she would save the world. But the fight would not be easy. Death would play with her mind and her life, but Angels would do everything they could to protect her. She would struggle with right and wrong and mess up along the way, but in the end, she would have to make the right choice; otherwise, Death would win and humans and Angels endure an eternity of suffering.”

“But what does that mean…” My eyelids grow heavy as I start to doze off. “And why were they fighting to begin with… Aren’t they both death? Or was it over…” Souls. I try to open my lips to ask him if he knows about the story in the book, but aching exhaustion possesses my body.

“It’s getting late,” Asher whispers, tenderly kissing the tip of my ear. “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”

My eyelids flutter open. “Okay…”

Seconds later, I drift off into a dreamless, death-free, sleep.