We, however, were still stuck inside until further notice.
* * *
Once we got back to my house, Bishop lingered by the front door, as if uncertain if he should come all the way inside.
“I need to meet up with the others,” he said. “And you need to rest. It’s been a hell of a couple of days.”
I nodded. “Understatement. Major understatement.”
But there was something I needed to get off my chest first, something I wouldn’t let be buried in the silence between us. Bishop was the one who was amazing at hiding secrets—not me.
“I saw your execution,” I said quietly.
His gaze shot to mine. “What?”
“When I touched you...when you were possessed. I saw you. You were hanged.” I swallowed hard and looked at the floral area rug my mother had bought to warm up the otherwise cold front foyer. “You thought you deserved it. And when it happened, it took a long time before you died. I felt what you felt. It was horrible.”
His expression darkened and he turned away from me. “Samantha, I really wish you hadn’t had to experience that.”
I moved closer to him and grabbed his arm. “All of those bad things back then. You keep them so close to you, that’s why they’re so vivid. There’s so much about you that you won’t tell me, but...”
“But what?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But I think I have you figured out.”
He snorted softly. “You have, have you?”
“I’m not afraid of you, despite everything I’ve seen and learned. I know you, Bishop, and you’re kind of amazing.”
He looked away again, but I grabbed his face and made him look at me. “And whatever happened in the past? I don’t care about any of it. Who you are now, what you do and how you look at me. Those are the only things that matter. To hell with everything else.”
His gaze searched mine. “I thought I’d lost you tonight.”
My throat hurt too much to swallow. “Ditto. But I’m alive. And so are you. We both got second chances.”
I finally let go of him and paced nervously to the door, then back.
He watched me, his expression wary again. “What is it?”
I’d been thinking about this ever since I got Stephen’s note. Ever since we went to the barrier. I knew it was the right thing to do.
“I want you to have something,” I said firmly. “I want you to hold on to it for me, because I don’t trust anyone else with it.”
“What?”
I pressed the gold locket into his hand—such a small object for what it carried inside. Bishop looked with shock at the chain now hanging from his grip.
“I realized two very important things tonight.”
He tore his confused gaze away from the locket to meet mine. “The first?”
“That I can’t have my soul back. Not yet, anyway. What’s been happening here in Trinity is bigger than me. Bigger than any of us. And now with Zach and Cassandra gone...” My voice broke. “Well, you guys need as much help as you can get. I won’t be able to access my nexus abilities if I have a soul again. I won’t be able to help you if I’m just a human.”
Bishop stared down at the gold locket as if stunned I’d give such a thing to him. “What’s the second reason you’re giving me this?”
A smile tugged at my lips and I gave him a small shrug. “I guess I’m a sucker for symbolism.”
His gaze met mine again and there were so many questions and doubts in his blue eyes, but he didn’t give voice to any of them.
“So?” I ventured when silence fell between us. “Will you take it? Will you keep it safe for me until I need it back?”
Finally, he nodded, then pulled the chain over his head, tucking the locket underneath his shirt. “I promise to take very good care of it.”
“Thank you.”
The smile he gave me then made my heart swell so much I thought my ribs might break. But it felt good. Really good.
He slid his fingers into my long, tangled hair and drew me closer so he could kiss me. Electricity shivered between us, and I swear I could see sparks, even though my eyes were closed. I felt them, that’s for sure.
It felt so good to kiss Bishop with nothing at risk except my heart.
Chapter 30
There was a demon waiting for me in my bedroom.
He reclined on my bed with his arms folded behind his head.
I froze in the doorway.
“What are you doing here?”
“Rough night, huh?” Kraven said.
“Get out of my bed.”
He grinned. “I like how that sounds. Your bed. Me in it.”
“I swear, Kraven. Don’t mess with me right now.”
He sat up and glanced around at the room. “It’s a bit frillier and pinker than I pictured for you, but not bad. I could get used to this.”
He was messing with me. I decided not to feed the troll by making any more demands or stomping my feet like a child. Instead, I stood there with my hands on my hips, glaring at him.
“Ouch. I can feel that all the way over here.” He swung his legs over the side of my bed and stood up. “Saw my little brother take off a minute ago. No sleepovers planned with your beloved? Sad, gray-girl. Very sad. Oh, wait, you’re not a gray anymore, are you? You went through stasis, though. I know that. I saw it with my own eyes. You were in bad shape. And then—boom—you’re all better.”
I spread my hands, trying my best to ignore his taunts about Bishop. “I died. I came back.”
He studied me carefully. “As what, exactly?”
“As myself. Nothing else. I feel fine.”
“Not evil?”
“No.”
“Too bad. Evil can be fun.” He moved closer to me, cocking his head as he watched me. It made me extremely uneasy about being alone with him.
I slid my hand down my right thigh so I could feel the outline of my dagger. “Don’t even think about trying to hurt me.”
He let out a quick laugh, one of surprise. “You really think I’d do that?”
“I don’t know what you’re capable of.”
“You’re right. You don’t.”
“It’s been a rough night, Kraven. I want you to leave.”
“We lost two angels tonight. Zach—I actually liked that guy.” His expression darkened. “He didn’t give me any problems. Shouldn’t have died. Then little Miss Secret Mission. She should have told us the whole truth from day one.”
“Why? Would you have helped save her?”
He didn’t reply to that. “Roth is MIA.”
“He liked her. A lot. They were falling for each other.”
“Roth’s a dick. You really think he’s capable of feeling anything for anyone?”
“I do.” I said it with certainty. I’d seen the look in his eyes when she’d been wrenched out of his arms. There was no doubt in my mind that his feelings toward her were completely real.
“And you think my brother feels the same way toward you?”
I glared at him. “It bothers you that I like him.”
“Like? Not love? Was it his love that brought you back from death?” He said it mockingly. “Do you two have a Romeo and Juliet thing going on? The deadly angel-boy falls for the hybrid chick who, in another life, he would’ve been commanded to kill. Adorable, right?”
I looked into his amber eyes, but couldn’t break through the walls he had up. Frankly, I wasn’t in the mood for a
glimpse at his tortured mind tonight. Despite the ability he had to press my buttons, knowing what I did about him made my heart hurt. “I’m sorry for the pain you feel when it comes to him.”
His flinch would have been barely noticeable if I hadn’t been looking for it. “I feel nothing for him.”
“Wrong. You hate him for what he did because you once loved him more than anyone else.” I let out a shaky sigh. “You have a right to feel that way.”
His jaw tightened. “Permission from you to hate my brother. Gee, I feel all tingly inside.”
“You trusted him and he betrayed you in the worst way possible. I don’t know what you’ve been through in however many years it’s been since you died—”
“Was killed,” he corrected me.
“Tonight I saw another one of Bishop’s memories. His execution.” I swallowed hard. “I heard his thoughts. I saw what he saw—I felt what he felt. He was broken by what he’d done to you. And he paid the price for it. He missed you. You were the only one he wanted forgiveness from.”
That snarky edge faded from his gaze. “Really.”
I nodded.
The remainder of his humorous mask fell away. “You can tell me whatever you want—whatever you think you saw. Doesn’t change a damn thing. And it doesn’t make it true.”
“You tried to save him twice tonight. I think down deep you still care about him.”
“Is that what you think?” He moved closer and backed me up against the wall. I looked up at him, commanding myself not to show fear as his eyes began to glow red.
I nodded again.
I waited for him to say something else on the subject, but instead, he twisted a long piece of my hair around his finger. “So you’re a nexus.” His lips curved. “I know you won’t admit to it in so many words. It’s enough that I know it’s true.”
I pushed his hand away from me. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Wrong. I know enough. I know in the three kisses we shared that you weren’t only kissing me because you had to. You liked it, too.”
My cheeks heated. “You’re dreaming.”
“And now you can kiss Bishop again without being in danger of sucking both his soul and his life out of him. Right?”
This was ridiculous. I was giving him way too much time to try to manipulate me. “Get to your point, Kraven. I know you have one. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“Only if you’re delusional.”
His smile grew and his eyes went back to their usual amber shade. “Sweetness, you can deny it all you want, but you do feel something for me. I know it.”
“You’re right, James.” I said his real name to see if it would get a reaction. It did. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t correct me this time. I slid my hands slowly up his chest and he froze, his brows drawing together. I placed my hands on either side of his face. “I do feel something for you.”
His lips curved to the side. “I knew it.”
I studied his handsome face, that glimmer of victory already in his eyes that I was about to admit to something that would cause Bishop pain. “I feel pity for you.”
That cockiness vanished in a heartbeat and he stepped back from me so fast it was as if I’d been set on fire.
“Save the pity for someone else,” he said, his voice now cold. “Besides, you can lie to yourself if you want to, but I know the truth. I see it in your eyes.”
“Yeah, right. You are delusional. Rinse and repeat. All you want to do with me is make Bishop jealous. I read your mind, remember? I saw that darkness in there. That vengeance you’re jonesing for. But it’s not going to happen.”
“Whatever you say, sweetness.” He looked away, toward my window, as if shielding his expression from me long enough to gather his smart-ass mask back up. “My brother gave you a gift—that little dagger of yours. Nice and shiny. I have something shiny to give you, too. That’s why I came here tonight.”
I didn’t ask what it was. I just stood there waiting, my fists clenched at my sides.
“A name,” he said quietly, that glint of mischievousness returning to his face. “Adam Drake. And a year. 1878.”
My heart started to pound harder. “Who is that?”
“Use that little computer of yours.” He nodded at the laptop on my bedside table. “Do a little digging. You might find some interesting details.”
I turned away from him, my head swimming. When I looked back again, Kraven was gone.
Immediately, after closing the window, I went to my laptop. I almost decided to forget the whole thing and put what he’d said out of my mind forever. But then, with shaking hands, and a slight hesitation, I went ahead and searched the name and date—Adam Drake 1878.
It got a couple direct hits. And a picture.
Adam Drake...was Bishop.
It was Bishop’s real name, the name he wouldn’t tell me no matter how many times I’d asked.
My hands trembled as I clicked through to an obscure web article and I read it quickly, my stomach tying itself into knots.
Adam Drake was eighteen years old when he was hanged in New York in 1878. He was in a group of grave robbers and body snatchers who worked for Kara Drake. His mother.
Kara was his mother. Kraven’s mother, too.
Adam had killed his brother, James, nineteen years of age.
And he’d also killed twenty-five other people. With a dagger.
James had been his first victim.
These pieces of Bishop’s puzzle clicked into place and left me stunned and sickened as I stared at the grainy black-and-white photo.
Bishop had been a serial killer.
And I’d just freely given him both my heart and soul.
Chapter 31
Despite everything I’d experienced, everything I’d learned, and how long it took me to finally fall asleep...I slept. Hard. And I had no dreams to disturb me, good ones or bad ones.
When I woke, I glanced at my alarm clock to see I hadn’t even slept in. It was seven o’clock.
Seven o’clock in the morning on the day after my death.
I got out of bed and glanced at my reflection in the mirror, surprised in a way to see that nothing about my appearance had changed. I looked exactly the same as I had yesterday, or the week before, or the month before any of this had happened.
My mother had left a voice mail for me. She said her Hawaiian vacation, as awesome as it had been, was nearly over. She’d be home the day after tomorrow, Saturday, and she couldn’t wait to see me.
In a daze, I showered and got dressed just as I would on any other Thursday morning. I had toast and peanut butter for breakfast.
Something was off, though. I stood there in the kitchen for a moment, my hand pressed against my stomach.
“Oh, no. No, it can’t be,” I whispered.
I was still hungry—but it wasn’t for food.
It had to be my imagination. I wasn’t a gray anymore. I wasn’t. But there was only one way to find out for sure.
I went to school and found him in the halls exactly where I expected him to be.
Colin glanced at me as I tentatively approached. “Hey, Sam. Not ditching today? Where have you been all week?”
“Around.” Kidnapped, held captive, trying to stop an angel from going postal at a Halloween party. “Look, I—I’m sorry about what happened on Monday.”
He grimaced at the reminde
r of our last kiss. Emphasis, I sincerely hoped, on last. “You know, I think I’m finally going to take a hint. I can’t deal with it, Sam. You push me away and tell me you’re not interested in me, but then the next moment you’re all over me. It’s not cool. I deserve to be treated better than that.”
“I totally agree. You deserve way better that I’ve been treating you lately.” I forced myself to step closer to him, into the orbit of hunger, and studied his face.
He watched me warily. “So what are you doing now?”
“Testing something.” I waited for the desire to kiss him to grip me, for whatever remained of Colin’s soul to pull at my control like a baited hook like it always did.
But there was nothing. I sensed nothing from Colin or anyone else in the halls.
Nothing!
A smile burst forth on my face and I threw my arms around him to give him a tight hug. He didn’t hug me back.
“Nobody likes a tease, Sam. I’m not interested in any more of your games.”
I let go of him immediately. “Sorry. I, uh, I’m really sorry, Colin. For everything. I hope we can still be friends.”
That lost look he used to have when around me was gone. He wasn’t irresistibly drawn to me anymore. More tangible proof that I was finally free—and so was he. “Yeah, sure. Just...no spontaneous hugging, okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
We went to English and I sat there, face forward, trying to pay attention. Despite my lousy grade the other day, school was supposed to be my oasis. My touchstone. My way of feeling normal. This was what I’d clung to recently to keep from totally falling apart.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work so well anymore.
I tried to ignore this mysterious new hunger inside of me, this strange gnawing emptiness, but it was next to impossible. If it wasn’t for food—or souls—then what the hell was it?
At lunch, I searched the halls and the cafeteria for Jordan, but she was nowhere to be found. I asked some of her friends where she was, worried she might have gotten into more trouble last night after the Halloween party or worse, fallen back into Stephen’s clutches. They confirmed that she’d texted this morning that she’d definitely gotten home safely after the raid. And that her father was furious with her for disappearing for two days without any explanation and then immediately taken off, in full Cleopatra gear, to a party.
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