We arrive at the corridor where our rooms are, and before any awkward questions can surface, I take Ashen's hand and pull him into my room. It's just the same as the last time we were here, with the floral bedding and the orchids on the sill. But it feels like that was years ago. A different Lu. I realize for the first time that a lifetime can be measured in millennia, or it can be counted in the weight of a few days. Even mere moments can cause a tectonic shift, propelling you from who you were to who you are now. Tearing you down. Building you up into something new.

I set my bag and my sword down close to the window and look at the orchids, taking the white star of a wind orchid between my fingers to run my thumb across its silken petals. I smile as I think of the Reaper placing them here. An executioner tending to blooms, caring for rare flowers.

"All right, vampire?" he asks, and I look over my shoulder to see him watching me from the center of the room.

I let go of the flower and turn, nodding with a worried half-smile.

"Still concerned about what happened this evening?" he says, taking a step toward me, and then another. I feel scorched by the fire in his eyes, and this time I know I can't strip my gaze away. I only nod, watching as Ashen draws near enough to touch.

He takes another step closer. His pupils brighten with flame. His hand slides into my hair, the other across my hip, pulling me closer. I trace my fingertips along the tense muscles of Ashen's arms and close my eyes for a heavy beat of my heart. Desire unfurls like a serpent beneath my bones, licking its hot tongue along the walls of my chest. But there's something else too, something bright and burning in my heart. A little spark, a little whisper. A hunger for something more than sex or blood. Something I might want only from Ashen, but something too dangerous for a bright soul to entertain with a Reaper bound to the Shadow Realm.

Ashen presses a fiery hot kiss to my neck where the blood surges to meet his lips. The urge in my heart only grows stronger, whispers louder, but I keep it locked away. Ashen must feel the turbulence in my blood with this feral instinct flooding my veins. He traces his fingers down my pulse and pulls away to look in my eyes. "Whoever it is, whatever their motivation, they will have to come through me. And I will not let anyone get close to you, Lu. I will not let anyone harm you. I promise you."

I shake my head. "You can't make promises like that," I whisper. "No vows spoken by an immortal can be kept forever, you must know that by now. Promises are for mortals. They are meant to die with the bearer."

Ashen sweeps his hand in a slow path down my neck. His fingertips trace the ridge of my collarbone. They follow the gold chain, the links warm against my cool skin. His open hand presses to my heart that drums its tortured song to him. His eyes never leave mine as they brighten in the dark.

"Not this time, vampire," Ashen says. "This promise is just like you. There is no measure of time, no realm that can stop it. It is elemental."

Ashen's kiss and his touch follow every word into the last threads of the night. But I know the truth. That the only immortal promises in life and death must be paid in blood.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 27

"Do you ever actually sleep? I haven't seen it happen," I say as I slide onto one of the barstools in the kitchen and pull my damp hair into a ponytail. "Every time I wake you're already up."

Ashen pours my coffee, passing pitchers of blood and cream across the island before he returns his attention to his heavily buttered piece of toast and his newspaper. The faint smell of cinnamon drifts through the room, traveling on the gentle breeze of the open window. "It's hard for a demon to sleep soundly next to someone with angel rabies, you know."

"Well, at least it's that and not sleep farting."

"Oh no, it is definitely that too. I am just too much of a gentleman to mention it."

I grin. He smiles. We stare.

This should feel really fucking weird, sitting across from a Reaper and thinking about all the things I love about him. His humor. His wit. His beautiful cognac eyes that seem to capture me, holding me hostage. But it doesn't feel weird. The more I let go of my guard, the more it feels right. The danger seems to dissolve, leaving only desire behind.

Ediye is going to have a fucking field day with me.

Fuck. 

Fuck shit fuck.

Ediye. 

She's expecting me back soon and I haven't touched base to let her know I'm safe in the Living Realm.

I tear my eyes from Ashen's and reach down to my bag, pulling my phone from within the front pocket. There are six messages from Ediye, all emojis. There's a lady vampire. There's the planet Earth. There's a shrug. There's a wave or a slap, I'm not sure. There's a knife, which I think means she's going to kill me. Lastly, there's a ghost, which means she's definitely going to kill me.

I send her a devil face and a line of eggplants.

Ediye's response is immediate. It's a line of cry-laugh faces and a skull. I'm not sure if that means she's died laughing, or she's still coming to murder me. Maybe both.

"Hmm," Ashen murmurs. I look up to find him engrossed in the newspaper, a frown embedded on his face. He slides the story across the table to me.

"Family asks public for support to find missing local man," I read aloud. My eyes fix on the picture of a familiar face. "Jessie Fucking Bates."

"The man from the alley, correct? Your meal?"

"Yeah. Major douchebag," I say, my voice thin as my thoughts are consumed by the words on the page. There are the usual details about his height, age, eye color, yada yada. How he's such a wonderful person beloved by all. Such bullshit. Fortunately, he'd made it home from Sanford and was last seen at his house in Newbury. When he didn't show up for work, his brother went to check on him but the door of his home was ajar. Nothing was taken, nothing seemed out of place. Even his Audi was in the driveway, the keys still in a dish at the entrance of the house.

"A little too coincidental, I'm afraid," Ashen says as I slide the story back toward him.

"You think this is Semyon's doing?" I ask as Ashen folds the paper and takes a sip of coffee, his eyes pouring over my face.

Ashen sets his mug down and watches me as he turns it across the granite with a thoughtful expression. "Probably."

"Why?"

Ashen shrugs as he glances down to the image of Jessie's punchable, smiling face. Even as a missing person he comes off as a dickhead. "Maybe he thought you might have other... interests... in this particular human. Or maybe he's trying to send you a message. That he's watching, waiting."

I barely manage to stifle a snort. "Interests. Gross. That guy was only good for one thing. Eating."

"When you left me in the alley with him, are you sure no other werewolves were left behind as well?" Ashen asks as leans forward and locks his gaze to mine. Tiny buds of flame blossom in his eyes.

"I know that face," I say with a sly smile as I sit back on my stool and cross my arms. "That's your interrogation face. That face sucks."

Ashen gives an incredulous laugh as his gaze flicks to the ceiling. When his eyes meet mine again they burn with a hotter flame. "My face does not suck."

"Don't get me wrong, it's a very handsome face, Reaper. But it sucks. This is where you ask me a bunch of questions and pressure me to give you answers that I don't want to or cannot give you. And this time I have genuinely no fucking idea." We stare at one another, the only sound between us the ticking of Ashen's finger on the handle of his mug. "So are you going to stop asking me questions?"