“Matt!” I try to float away from Gaius’ glowing blade. But I can’t. It’s pulling me closer with promises of warmth and peace.
Vera is on the ground, her head in her hands. Her aura—I can see it now—wavers to a dark, glum blue. Gaius walks up and kneels next to her, and presses a comforting hand to her back. His touch seems to knock her out, because she slumps and he lifts her, then lays her gently in the back of the truck. Her calming aura—lightening to a sky blue—is the only way I can tell she’s still alive.
I turn back to Matt as I float inexorably closer to Gaius. Gaius stares up at me, but makes no move to claim me. The curved blade lures me, all the same. I don’t know how, but it promises happiness, rest, an ending that soothes and quiets. I can’t leave Matt. Not now that I’ve found him, but the blade tells me I can. What am I going to do?
A flash of light brightens the alley, and then a woman appears. No, not a woman. An angel. Far more angelic than my Halloween getup. Her wings glow bright silver, though she wears a robe of black just like Matt and Gaius.
I float ever closer to the scythe, closer to the promise of sleep after a long day.
The angel speaks to Matt. His tears break whatever floating part of me constitutes my heart. He offers my body to the angel, but she shakes her head.
“I am sorry, my son.” Her voice is multi-layered, a harmony of exquisite beauty. “Her mortal form is no more.”
“Please, mother. I beg you. She’s my mate!”
“Your mate?” The angel seems taken aback and scrutinizes my floating form more closely.
“Yes.” Matt’s voice breaks, his agony infecting the word.
The angel touches my head, and I canfeelthe warmth of her hand even though I’m floating yards above them. “Have you already claimed her?”
“Yes.” Matt pulls his shirt to the side and shows his mother the mark,ourmark. “I promised her. I promised I would keep her safe.”
“You promised?” The angel tilts her head to the side. The angel glances up at me, her eyes the same ethereal blue as her son’s, then ponders Matt again. “Tell me about the promise.”
“I swore to her that I would never claim her soul or allow anyone else to claim it.”
“A reaper’s word is unbreakable.” The angel presses her palm to Matt’s cheek. “If you allow Gaius to take her, you must surrender your robes and your immortality.”
“He won’t take her.” He shakes his head. “I can’t let her go.”
“Then you condemn her to walk the earth forever, an unfulfilled ghost of her former self.”
“No.” Matt chokes on the word.
“You’ve created a Gordian knot, my sweet son.” She drops her hands to her sides. “One I’m not even sureIcan undo.”
Matt clutches me closer, his body shaking as he sobs. The angel bows her head, and her son falls to his knees. He yells, the sound like a dozen booms of thunder compressed into one painful burst. He strokes my cheek. “My sweet angel.”
“Fuck.” Gaius gives me another glance and runs a hand through his hair. “I have to take her soul. There’s no other way. I don’t want to go to Hades, of course. But even if that wasn’t an issue, you can’t let her stay here like that Mathieu.” He reaches down and squeezes Matt’s shoulder.
Matt kisses my forehead, and I feel the warmth again, like a jolt through whatever form I’m in. “I can’t. I’d rather live without her than let her suffer.” He drops his chin to his chest. “I give up my immortality and my reaper status. Gaius may claim her for the afterlife.” He looks up at me, love in his eyes. “I failed you, my heart. My mate. My love. I will live the rest of my life with the knowledge that I broke my word to you. May you be at peace.”
His black robe disappears as does his scythe.
No. It’s not true. You didn’t fail me. My voice is gone. Did I ever have one? All the same, I scream at him to forgive himself, that he did all he could.
“You’ve chosen wisely, my son.” The angel smiles up at me as I’m drawn toward the warm glow of Gaius’ scythe.
Before I can reach it, the angel flaps her wings, soars into the air and cradles me in her arms. The ground falls away beneath us, a stunned Gaius and a broken Matt left behind in the dark alley as we hurtle toward the stars.
The angel whispers to me, “Come now, Annabelle. We have someone to see.”
CHAPTER NINE
MATHIEU
SEVEN DAYS.IHAVEN’Teaten, haven’t slept, haven’t done anything except languish in my bed as thoughts of Annabelle consume me. My mother never returned, and my father has been close-lipped about where she is.