Cinder Read online

  “What’s going on?” I mutter, instantly slammed with a spout of exhaustion, my head bobbing around like a bobble head.

  “Get out of the car, Cameron.” I hear Asher say, but I can’t see him or anything, my eyelids lowering of their own accord.

  “You seriously want me to stop? In the middle of this?” he asks. “They’ll end her if I do. Now that they’ve gotten her whole family to give into the Reaper side, they’re going to torture her until she breaks. And you know as well as I do that right now she’s going to break very easily.”

  Asher’s conflicted, but finally gives in. “Fine,” he replies through gritted teeth. I hear the car tires squeal, the car accelerating. “At least stop taking all of her energy away. You know that’s forbidden with a Grim Angel.”

  “Just like you know it’s forbidden to touch one the way you have,” Cameron retorts, giving the car a slight swerve.

  “Right now, I’m under no rules,” Asher says quietly, hugging me closer to him.

  “Ah, so it is true,” he says. “Being banished allows you to overlook your ridiculous goody-two-shoes Angel rules.”

  “More or less, but I’m guessing it’ll catch up with me when Michael finds out,” Asher mumbles, his muscles going rigid. “But you need to stop breaking the rules right now and let her wake up.”

  I’m not even asleep, I want to say, yet my lips are numb—tingling again—and heat is starting to spread up my back. I feel like I’m burning up with a fever. Maybe the rain did it to me? Or maybe I’m sick because my heart is broken.

  “She’s hysterical right now.” Irritation laces Cameron’s tone. “And she’s only going to get more hysterical when she wakes up and feels the full blunt of what happened back there.”

  “She’s fine,” Asher snaps. “You’re just using this is an excuse to get to her.”

  “What’s going on…?” I struggle to speak with my head slumped against Asher’s chest. “Why are you two… talking to each other…?”

  “She just found out her mom is dead and her soul is with the Reapers,” Cameron says at the same time that I hear the engine rev louder. “Do you really think she’s going to handle that very well, especially after she just found out her brother gave into the Reaper side and gave up his position as a Grim Angel? Besides, now she’s going to find out about us.”

  “She doesn’t need to find out about that.” Asher’s voice is low, carrying a threat as his arms fasten tighter around me while his cold, wet shirt presses against my hot cheek. “We made an agreement to never talk about that—to never accept what we are.”

  “So you just want to keep lying to her?” Cameron questions with disdain. “How typical of you. Honestly, I was sort of hoping that you getting kicked out of your Angel clan would have knocked some sense into you.”

  “And how typical of you to think she even wants to know about this,” he says venomously. “Sometimes not knowing everything is a good thing. There’s only so much a person can handle before they break.”

  Cameron laughs maliciously. “In case you haven’t noticed, she always wants to know the truth.”

  “Not necessarily,” he tells him. I know he’s thinking about the time when I told him I didn’t want to hear about the Anamotti, back when he took me to the Angel statue, back when everything was normal. “Sometimes she just wants to be normal.”

  He’s so right, and at the moment, despite all the craziness going on, I want to hug him, however my arms feel heavy, stuck on my lap, and all I can do is cuddle up and breathe him in.

  “I think she might be sick,” Asher says as his palm touches my forehead. “She’s burning up.”

  “Maybe she’s the last Grim Angel standing,” Cameron says in a derisive, joking tone. “And her Reaper and Angel blood are about to manifest.”

  “You don’t even know what exactly happens if she is the last one standing. You just speculate like everyone else does,” he states, removing his hand from my forehead. “No one, except our leaders, knows for sure what will happen once the last one is left, other than the sacrifice.”

  “I think—” Cameron abruptly stops talking and I feel the car swerve to the side.

  I’m jolted by the force, my fingers digging into the fabric of Asher’s shirt as I hang on for dear life. Then the car realigns itself and we start to slow down, allowing me to relax.

  “Crap, don’t run him over,” Asher says, leaning forward, moving me with him.

  I try to open my eyelids, but they won’t move. Then the car’s engine growls as the gas pedal gets slammed to the floor.

  “Are you crazy?” Cameron asks. “If we don’t, we’re going to get taken out by the mob.”

  “I don’t give a shit,” Asher growls. “He’s still our uncle.”

  What the hell? He’s still our uncle.

  “Only by blood,” Cameron says calmly. “And you’re the one who can’t fly at the moment if anything happens. I’ll be perfectly flying off, leaving you two behind—”

  His voice is overlapped by the sound of glass breaking and metal bending. Brakes squeal and the smell of burning rubber fills up the air. It reminds me of the time when I drove my car into the lake. When I died. I wonder if I’m going to die again, if the necklace will protect me. I wonder if this is the moment Cameron saw and why he gave me the necklace.

  I feel myself spinning, or maybe it’s the car, then I hear voices, yet I’m not sure if they’re coming from inside my head or around me. I sense the wind and rain brushing up against my skin at the same time that heat and cold mix inside me. Death feasts on my veins as Asher’s touch leaves me and suddenly I feel all alone, the necklace around my neck feeling like it’s singeing my skin.

  There’s a brief pause where I wonder what’s going to happen next and then my back slams against something hard and a rough surface tears open my skin. I feel my life leave me and then return again, the pendant getting hotter and hotter. Cameron was right—death was in my near future.

  Jesus, that means he saved me.

  Rain covers my body as water soaks my hair and my clothes, stinging the open wounds on my arms and legs. Thunder rumbles. The ground gets moister. And questions race through my mind. Where am I? What happened? Why does my body feel so strange; it’s not because of the death, but could it be because of the sudden freedom I feel?

  It takes a lot of effort, but I finally get my eyes to open and slowly try to make sense of where I am. The first thing I see are dark clouds and then, as I tilt my head, I see the bridge that goes over the river in town. There are hundreds of people standing on it, staring down at me.

  It feels like I should be afraid of the ominous feeling in the air, but my senses are focused on other stuff; sounds, sights, smells. I can hear the sound of water and the soft pitter-patter of raindrops splattering against the ground. I can feel the coldness of the water absorbing into my skin, although the heat that’s consuming my body overpowers it. I’m not sure how I got here. Or where the car is. Or Asher. Or Cameron.

  I start to sit up, but pause halfway when my vision flickers. For a second I see another world. One where the stream remains before me, the bridge to my side, yet everything is tinted red and shadows dance everywhere. I blink my eyes several times, hearing the up and down movement of my eyelids, then everything goes back to normal.

  I grasp my throbbing head as I sit up the rest of the way and that’s when I feel my skin split open. The sound of my tearing flesh is like nails on a chalkboard. Pressure builds between my shoulder blades while my muscles tighten. Knot. Protest. Then I hear the rip of the fabric belonging to my jacket. Seconds later, it falls off of me, and the only thing remaining are the sleeves. My back gets pushed up, straightened, lifted. For a brief instant, I think I’m going to fly away. I feel wind sweep up behind me and weight pull me back; it’s almost as though a bag of bricks has been tied to my back.

  I don’t want to look because I think I already know what’s occurred. I can’t stop myself from needing to know if I’m right, thoug
h. I breathe through the heaviness and then progressively turn my head to look over my shoulder. Just as I suspected, a pair of wings rise out of my back and point to the sky. Beautiful black feathers, almost like Asher’s except for the trim of them are hued with red, like each one has been dipped in blood.

  “Why…” It’s all I can get out of me, too astounded to process what just happened, what I’ve become. Although it’s not written out in front of me, I’m pretty sure I know what this means.

  That the battle is veering to an end.

  And I’m the last Grim Angel standing.

  Chapter 15

  I stumble to my feet, wanting to run away from the sight, but it follows me. They’re attached to my back and take my balance away. I collapse to my knees on the gravel, my skin splitting open, the river washing over to me.

  Fearing what’s about to happen, I glance over at the bridge to see what the mob is doing, only to see that they’re heading down the slope just beneath the bridge, sliding in the loose gravel as they come for me. I don’t know enough about the battle to know what’s going to happen next, but I have a feeling that the last thing I want is to be captured by them.

  I struggle to get to my feet again and manage to get my legs under me this time, but as soon as I take a step, the weight of the wings tilt me back and I tip over, straight onto my back. The sky grumbles above me and my vision snaps again like the lightning, red tinting everything as shadows swarm through the clouds.

  My cheeks soak with raindrops as I flip my body, endeavoring to roll to the side, yet the wings below me won’t allow it and I spring right back over. Rain hits me in the eyes as I hear the footsteps of the mob growing closer. I reach for the sky, wishing I could fly, but I have no idea how. Plus, it looks like its bleeding. Everything does until I blink again, hearing the flutter of my eyelids before the world returns to its normal color.

  It gives me back a little hope and motivation. I summon up every amount of strength I have to lift myself to a sitting position when one of my wings starts to flap on its own and I’m wrenched to the side, tumbling into the muddy ground again. I catch a glimpse of the people that are very close now, and note the man dressed in black, leading them along.

  They mayor—leader of the Reapers—is coming for me.

  This is bad.

  Very bad.

  “Give me your hand.” Asher’s voice sends elation through me and my gaze eagerly searches through the rain for him.

  He’s standing just to the side of me with his hand extended out to me, a sort of awestruck look on his face as he takes in my wings. Cameron is just behind him, dressed in his normal clothes, although they’re drenched and cling to his muscular body. He’s watching me with wonder and curiosity with the book in his hands, which is something I don’t understand, yet I know now is not the time to question.

  “I’m sorry,” I say to Asher for reasons I don’t understand then I reach out to him and slip my fingers through his.

  With one swift tug, he pulls me to my feet and I stumble into his arms, unable to keep my stability. He grips onto me, his arms wrapping around my lower back while his fingers tickle the wet feathers that belong to my wings.

  “Hold on,” he whispers in my ear and I obey without arguing. “Ready?” he asks. I don’t think he’s speaking to me. He’s asking Cameron.

  “I’m always ready,” Cameron says. “She’s the one I’m worried about. And you. You’re too used to flying and they’re going to chase us.”

  “I’ll be fine… and we don’t have time to help her prepare. We need to get as far away from here as we can.” No sooner have the words left his lips than I hear the sound of a voice flowing from the distance, calling out. When I glance over, I see the mob and the leader of the Anamotti closing in on us.

  A lot of them are pure Anamotti, the X’s on their bodies branding them for what they are along with the black cloaks they’re wearing. There are also many possessed humans, some of whom I know. Raven. My brother. My mother. Even Asher’s uncle is there. God, Alton’s got the entire town in the palm of his hands and I wonder how long it’ll be until he kills them all.

  “We have to go. Now,” Asher demands.

  “Where are we going?” I gaze up at him, rain dripping against my eyes.

  He gives me a small smile, I think trying to comfort me, but I can tell the sight of me is making him nervous. It’s making me nervous as well. “Somewhere safe.”

  A few booms of thunder later, I see a snap of lightning throw silver streaks across the sky. Then the snap of something else rings loudly and suddenly I’m being thrown. Or maybe I’m being lifted upward. Flying. Falling. It’s hard to tell. All I know is that Asher is holding onto me, our bodies pressed so closely together that his heat mixes with mine. Blackness is swirling around us like a funnel. I can still see the river, the bridge, and the entire town below us along with the car crunched up in the bushes just to the side of the riverbank, but it’s in the distance as I realize we’re floating into the sky.

  Screams and shouts chase after us as some of the Anamotti lift off, trying to follow us; their capes materialize as they soar up into the sky.

  “Hold on,” Asher whispers, and without arguing, I grip tightly onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist and holding on for dear life.

  A second later, we’re launched forward, sucked into the darkness around us. It’s like going through a tunnel, lights flickering, cold air hitting my face. Whispers echo around me and the darkness keeps brushing against my skin, which is when I realize that the darkness is a veil of shadows.

  “We’re in the shadow realm?” I ask, looking up at Asher as we fly through the shadows by an unseen current. It’s strange to watch too, because their moving and we’re moving and the two combined make it seem like we’re not moving. They also whisper, but I don’t understand what they’re saying as if they’re speaking in code.

  Asher nods, his face is barely visible with only the ambient light around us, but I can tell he’s trying to concentrate on taking us somewhere. “It’s the only way we could get out of there.”

  “But can’t the Anamotti get in here?” I ask, looking over at Cameron flying just in front of us.

  He gives a quick glance at me. “That’s why we have to move fast,” he says with concern.

  And move fast we do, going so quickly I start to get motion sickness the more the air flows over my body and the smaller the things below me get. We’re getting higher. Things are getting dimmer. I feel like I’m going to puke. Finally, I give up watching and bury my face into Asher’s chest. I shut my eyes and tell myself that everything is going to be okay. That I’ll get through this. However, deep down, I know I’m wrong. I have hardly anyone in my life left, at least along the lines of being human, and now the fate of the world’s souls is in my hands. I’m going to have to make a choice. I’m going to have to make a sacrifice.

  I’m going to have to kill someone I love.

  The problem is, I’m not sure I love anyone at the moment. So what does that mean? What does anything mean anymore?

  I continue to think the same things over and over again, feeling myself drifting off to sleep the more time goes on. I don’t even know how it’s possible, considering how much adrenaline is coursing through me, however it feels like I could fall asleep in Asher’s arms, right here in the middle of the shadow realm. I’m about to let myself, too, when I hear something whisper my name.

  “Just hang on, Ember.”

  My eyelids lift open. We’re still soaring through the shadow realm with the world zipping by below us. Shadows stream at our sides; some of them reach out for us, but Asher easily dodges them, zigzagging from side to side.

  “What’s wrong?” Asher asks, feeling my tension.

  I shake my head, staring at the shadow wall to my right, my vision flicking around again. It becomes more defiant. Darker. Bolder. Forming a shape of a face with eyes that look just like mine; one’s I haven’t seen for years.

  “Dad,”
I whisper as it extends out of the surface like a statue made of obsidian.

  He watches me for a moment before his lips start to unnaturally move. “Don’t trust anyone but yourself,” he says. “You still have a long road ahead of you, filled with hard choices.”

  “I know,” I say. “How do I know what’s right and wrong, though?”

  “You just do,” he says. “You’ve made it this far—you’re the last Grim Angel—which means you’re the strongest—and the Anamotti know that. They fear it.”

  I’m not sure I believe him. “I don’t feel that way.”

  “But you are.” The statue starts to crack. “I know you’ll do the right thing in the end.”