I nod. I give a faint smile.

Ashen takes a deep breath. His eyes linger on my mouth for a heartbeat too long, and then his palms lift from my skin. My hands fall from his wrists, back to my sides. He takes a step away and the smoke around us dissolves into air.

"Welcome to the Shadow Realm."

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Chapter 13

It's like you know the real world is there, behind a veil of shadow. You can feel it. You sense its presence. And every moment you spend in the Shadow Realm makes you wonder which world is truly real. You start to wonder if this is where you're meant to be.

It's really fucking weird.

Also weird: feelings. I'm feeling a lot of... feelings.

Firstly, though the panic is passing, I still feel its residue in my head. My thoughts are coated in it, clouded with it. And speaking of coated, my face. It's probably smeared with makeup but I can't really pull out a mirror and touch things up, you know? Also on the list of things that are coated: Ashen's shirt. I'm pretty sure I've left behind mascara and probably snot and definitely tears when I ugly cried into his chest.

Which leads me to embarrassment. I intended to come here all badass, like 'I'll burn you motherfuckers to the ground,' which was frankly an oversight on my part since Reapers are really into fire. So I guess I might... drown them? In my tears? ... Fuck. That is just so fucking lame.

Speaking of Reapers... and feelings...

...

......

What the fuck is wrong with me.

I glance up at Ashen, who is looking straight ahead at the grand hall that stretches before us. I don't know what to make of the man I just saw, the man that led me through the smoke and into the fire. I think about the heat of his arm sliding across my back. I hear the reassurance of his voice in my mind. Just like diving into deep water.

The desire to take his hand is almost overwhelming. Instead, I reach over and tap his jacket where my journal and pen are hidden. He looks down at me and then the jacket, pulling my possessions from his pocket to hand them to me.

Thank you for what you did, I write, and show it to him.

Ashen gives a single nod. The fire has gone from his eyes, but the tension still ticks in his jaw.

I pass him my journal again. I'm sorry I fanged your butter.

"No, you're not," he says. His eyes seem to dance with light.

I can feel my smile growing, though I try to hide it as I scrawl out another note. You're right. It was great. Your face was worth it. I meant what I said, too. 

"About what, putting it down your pants next time?"

Yeah.

Ashen gives a half smile as his eyes fuse with mine. It feels like a key that fits a lock that hasn't been turned in a long time. "I know. I have no doubts about that," he says.

I pull my gaze from his to look at the palatial space around us. Smooth, polished stone pillars the color of dark bronze with seams of shining minerals ascend above us, framing a long and empty room. There's no decoration, no art or vases. Just the glint of color within the stone, and I think I could look at those pillars every day for eternity and always find something new.

Ashen is still looking down at me when footsteps echo from the other end of the room. We turn our gazes toward a woman whose heels click on the polished stone floor. Her beauty steals the breath from my chest. No mortal would think she belongs in their realm. She wears a fitted black dress that cuts just below the knee, the neckline scooping low on her breastbone to reveal the geometric face of a jackal identical to Ashen's. Tattoos of black honeycomb and birds flow upward to her neck, disappearing beneath the long sleeves of her dress. Her dark hair falls in a neat braid over her shoulder and her eyes dance in a smile as they home in on Ashen.

I feel a sudden surge of something hot beneath my collarbones. I don't know what it is, but I don't like it. Ashen takes a step forward, his shoulder enough of a barrier between us to send a message. A message the woman receives, because her eyes immediately find mine.

"Brother. Welcome home," the woman says as she lays her hands on his shoulders and presses a kiss to each of his cheeks. She turns her honey-colored eyes to mine and smiles. "You brought a soul with you?"

"Yes. Ember, may I present Lu. Lu is... assisting me... with the reaping related to the hybrid. Lu, this is Ember, my sister."

The warmth beneath my bones recedes and I realize what it was. Jealousy. I almost roll my eyes at myself. The look Ediye gave me at her cottage when she surveyed Ashen up and down appears in my mind. You are so fucked, vampire.

"It's a pleasure," Ember says, extending her hand with a smile. As soon as I take it, her sharp eyes find her brother's with a smile, then dart back to mine. "You are a vampire?"

I nod once.

Ember laughs. The sound is rich with musical delight. She lays a hand on her brother's arm and I feel the affection in her gesture. "You are always full of surprises, brother. Sometimes, I think you even find surprises with which to surprise yourself."

I give Ashen a what the fuck glance but his expression is unreadable. Ember loops her hand through his arm as we start to walk through the grand hall.

"How goes the hunt, brother?" Ember asks from the other side of Ashen, her hand still laying on his arm with a grace that seems unfair. I feel like I don't know what to do with my hands. One carries my notebook and pen while I occupy the other with the strap of the scabbard for my katana.

"Slow," he confesses. "I've run into complications."

"That's an unkind way to speak of Lu," Ember teases as she leans ahead of him and winks at me. I smile in reply, my affinity for this Reaper growing.

"No. I don't mean the vampire," he says, and the way his words roll from his tongue feel like a blade turning in my chest. "We fought the pack but they landed a blow with Angelwing poison. Lu saved me, and for the moment we are bound by the incantation she used."

Ember stops walking and we stop with her. She leans forward and meets my eyes, worry and pain embedded in hers. Her gaze roams my face and she swallows. "Angelwing? You saved my brother?"

I give her a nod. For a moment no one moves, until Ember crosses in front of Ashen to grasp my wrists. She looks into my eyes and I see sudden tears flaring in hers.

"Thank you." Ember pulls me into a tight embrace and I look over her shoulder to meet Ashen's eyes. His jaw ticks and he looks concerned, though I'm not sure who for. Ember releases me before I can figure it out. She loops my hand through her arm, the heat of her skin radiant beneath her sleeve.

"Tell me the story, Lu. It is so rare that Ashen is wounded. I want to hear every last detail," Ember says, bumping my shoulder as we start walking again. Though I can see the resemblance, she seems so unlike her brother. She gives affection freely, and her smile lights with ease. She's not what I would expect of a Reaper, and part of me longs to tell her everything.

"Lu can't talk," Ashen says. Ember turns to him and then to me, her eyes wide with alarm and curiosity.

"Did someone cut out your tongue?"

"Ember-"

"Humans were fond of that for a while. I am so sorry. What a terrible thing to endure."

"Leave her be, Ember."

No, I still have my tongue, I write, trying not to laugh as I pass her my note. She looks relieved, but then curious. Damaged vocal cords, I explain, which is of course a total lie that I actually feel a bit guilty for.