He slowly unb.u.t.tons the rest of his shirt, slips it off, and tosses it next to his jacket. My breath catches at his lean muscles and then at his tattoos. On the front section of his right rib is an angel with black feathers and tears in her eyes. Her black hair flows down her back, hiding her ident.i.ty, and her feathers are molting. Tattooing his opposing rib is an inscription. 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 melted together, and I wrap my arms around him. He kisses me deeply, sucking on my bottom lip, and trailing delicate kisses down my neck. My body conforms to his, steaming with desire. My chest heaves as he unties the ribbon of my shirt. He pauses, waiting to see if I protest. I don"t, and he unties it completely. The shirt gives open and his soft lips touch my skin. I shut my eyes and let the beautiful moment swallow me up.
We kiss until our bodies force us to breathe. Asher ties my shirt back up and then puts his own back on. Then we lie in my bed with my head resting in the crook of his arm.
"Ember," he speaks slowly, as if I"m a skittish cat. "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 freaking mind game and you and I are the p.a.w.ns.
"I barely know you." I trace patterns on his forearm. "Well, except for your lips. I know those pretty well."
He bites back a smile. "I know..." He looks down and meets my eyes. "But I want you to get to know me and open up. I feel like you have a lot of things bottled up in you."
"So do you. Like 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. Dead bodies. Or the fact that I stole the lives of a thousand plants.
His Adam"s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard. "No, it"s okay." He slides down so we are at eye level. "We 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. So my mom and I packed up and moved here to be closer to family."
"I"m sorry." I feel like a b.i.t.c.h. "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. "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 again. "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 fragile 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..." 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. He tenderly kisses the tip of my ear. "I have to go."
My eyelids flutter open. "Okay..."
"I heard your brother come back." He climbs over me. "So you"re not home alone."
I nod, barely able to keep my eyes open. "Alright, I"ll see you later..."
He chuckles. "I"ll see you tomorrow, Ember." He kisses my cheek and seconds later I hear the bedroom door shut. I roll over and fall asleep with the calmness of Asher still lingering in my body.
Chapter 15.
I"m woken up to a banging on the front door. They bang and bang and bang. Finally, I throw the blanket off me and climb out of bed. My room is pitch black, and blue and red lights flash outside my window.
"Ian." I stumble into the hall. The last time the cops showed up, Ian had wrecked the car. My mom went easy on him because Alyssa"s death was a fresh wound, but he was in the hospital for two days recovering from severe head trauma.
I throw open the front door. Two uniformed officers stand on the front porch. One"s short and lumpy and the other tall and bulky. A black and white cop car is parked in the driveway and my neighbors have congregated on their front porches, watching their scene in their pajamas, the red and blue sirens lighting up their burn-her-at-the-stake expressions.
The shorter officer reads a paper attached to a clipboard in his hands. "Are you Ember Rose Edwards?"
My pulse skips a beat. "Yeah, I am."
"And are you the owner of a 1970 Dodge Challenger?"
Oh s.h.i.t. "Umm..."
"And lying will only get you into more trouble," the officer warns.
"It"s mine." There"s a crumb in his mustache and I can"t stop staring at it. "Or my dad"s and mine."
"Your dad"s Patrick Edwards?" The tall one asks and I nod. "He"s the one who disappeared a few years ago and you were brought in for questioning."
I nod. "Yeah, so?"
He scowls at me and skims the paper with his finger. "It says on here that you"re on probation for drug possession."
I bite at my tongue. The drugs weren"t mine-they were Ian"s. But I took the wrap for it because he"d just suffered a manic episode. "Yeah, I am."
"You"re going to need to come with us." He takes off the handcuffs from his belt. "Your car was pulled out of the lake tonight."
"I didn"t know it was a crime for your car to be in a lake," I smart-mouth.
He offers me zero tolerance. "No, but it"s a little suspicious you never reported it and then it"s discovered near a crime scene."
"What?" I stammer. "What crime scene?"
"There was an incident at the lake," the shorter cop explains. "A girl came up missing tonight and we got an anonymous tip that your car could be found at the bottom of the lake at the last spot she was seen."
"That"s bull," I say. "I was here at my house all day."
"What about your car?" he asks with a condescending smirk that crinkles the skin around his eyes.
I hesitate. "That"s been gone for a week or so."
"Stolen?" he asks and I shake my head. "Then why didn"t you report the accident?"
I shrug and lie, "I didn"t want my mom to get mad at me."
The cops exchange consequential looks. The shorter one steps off the porch and heads to the cop car.
The taller one says, "I"m Officer McKinley and that"s Officer Adams. We"re going to need to take you down to the station for questioning. If you"ll go easy, we won"t use the handcuffs."
I glance around at the ridiculing eyes of my neighbors, planning my escape. I disappeared once, and I can do it again. "Fine. Can I at least get some shoes on?"
He points behind me at a pair of my flip flops. "Those should work."
a.s.shole. I slip on the flip flops and follow him out. The garage door is open and Ian"s car isn"t parked inside, which is weird because Asher told me he was home. Raven runs out of her house in her silky pajamas and slippers. She stops at the edge of the driveway.
"What"s happening, Ember," she whispers, glancing cautiously at the cops.
"Get your brother and come down to the station in case you have to bail me out," I hiss. "Not Ian and not my mom. I don"t want them dealing with this."
She nods with wide eyes. "Okay, we"ll meet you at the station."
I duck my head as I climb into the back of the cop car. The last time I was in one it smelled like sweat, smoke, and old meat. It smells just about the same.
The officers climb in and slam the doors. We back onto the road and I spot Cameron climbing out of his Jeep. He smiles and gives me a little wave. Suddenly, I have an idea of who told the cops my car was at the bottom of the lake.
Chapter 16.
I wait in the holding room for about an hour, a little cop trick before they try to break me. They forced me to take off all my jewelry and empty out my pockets. I rest my head back and slouch in the chair taking turns watching the clock, staring at the brick walls, and trying to see through the gla.s.s.
Finally, Detective Crammer enters. She"s wearing a simple black pantsuit and her blonde hair is pulled back in a tight bun. She pulls out a chair across from me, sets a folder on the table, and puts on her gla.s.ses.
"Ember Rose Edwards." A conniving grin ranges her thin lips. "So we meet again."
I straighten up in the chair. "So we do."
She eyes my filthy clothes over. "Rough night?"
I stare at her with a vacant expression. "Nope."
She explores the pages in the folder. "Where are your mother and brother tonight?"
"My mother"s working at the All Night Diner," I tell her. "And my brother"s at a friend"s."
"Do you need to call them?" She shuts the folder and overlaps her hands on it. "Someone needs to pick you up when we"re done here."
"No, my friend"s brother will come pick me up." I cross my arms on the table. "My mom doesn"t need to miss work and Ian probably won"t answer his phone." I worry she might force me to call, since I"m a minor.
She slips off her square-framed gla.s.ses and wipes the lens with the sleeve of her jacket. "Do you know why you were brought in tonight?"
I shrug. "Because my car was found at a crime scene."
"At a crime scene just like your father"s and Laden Miller"s," she says. "What do you know about Mackenzie Baker?"
"Mackenzie Baker?" Her shocking words throw off my game. "Is she the one that vanished tonight?"
"I"ll be asking the questions," she warns. "Now what do you know about her?"
"She"s a junior like me, I have a few cla.s.ses with her, and she"s the head cheerleader. That"s all I know about her."
"Were you at the party tonight? The one by the lake? A few people said they saw you there."
"I was at the lake before the party started," I answer. "But I left when people started showing up."
She jots what I say on the top of the folder. "And how did you get home?"
"I got a ride from a friend that I called to come pick me up," I tell her and she scribbles that to her list.
"Who did you drive out there with?" She writes a number on the corner of the folder.
"A guy," I say and her eyes elevate to me. "Cameron Logan."
She doesn"t seem to recognize the name, but cops are good at playing dumb. "And who is he?"
"He just moved here from New York," I explain. "He"s my age and lives down my street."
"Was he part of the reason you left?" She puts her gla.s.ses back on.
"Partially," I say with hesitance. "He was flirting with another girl."
She opens the folder and searches through her notes. "What"s the girl"s name?"
"Mackenzie Baker."
Her head snaps up. "You know lying is only going to get you into more trouble."
"I"m not lying," I gripe. "That"s the truth."
She reluctantly returns to her notes and pens down a few more notes. Then she closes the folder and slips off her gla.s.ses. "Again, we"ll be in touch. I have no doubt about that." She sticks out her hand for me to shake. "For now, I"d say it"d be best for you to stay in town."