‘People don’t fall in love so quick,’ I said. ‘You don’t even know me.’
‘Tell that to my heart. It hasn’t stopped aching for you from the moment I saw you in Lockwood’s office.’ He wore a bitter smile. ‘I wanted to tear you out of his arms when I saw you kissing him on Monday. Instead I made an even bigger mistake.’
Chris’s reference to Sarah gave me the strength to wrench my hands free and I turned away, head spinning. I needed time to think, but didn’t have any to spare.
I could never reap the soul of an innocent man. Come Thursday I would die and my mother would suffer an eternity of torture at Grimm’s hands. The only hope we had of avoiding our fate rested in the hands of the professor working for Chris.
I spun around to face Chris, pushing aside concerns of the heart to focus on something I could understand. ‘Tell me everything this Killian has found out about my necklace.’
Chris gave a sigh as he nodded. ‘All right, but you’re going to think what I’m about to tell you is crazy.’
‘More crazy than being recruited by the Grim Reaper?’ Chris gave a nod and I shuddered. Maybe I didn’t want to know the truth after all. But it was too late for second thoughts. Chris started talking and his words shattered every belief I’d ever held about the world I lived in.
Chapter 31
I shook my head, struggling to process what Chris had just told me. ‘If the original inhabitants of Earth were winged immortals, people would know about it. There’d be pictures, artefacts, something to show that they existed.’
‘Where do you think the inspiration for angels came from?’
I narrowed my eyes. ‘You’re saying that these … Tr’lirians … are responsible for angel myths.’
‘Makes sense, doesn’t it? They have wings and live in a higher plane.’
‘Higher plane, as in Heaven?’
Chris shrugged. ‘From what I understand, they call their home Angellin.’
‘Of course they do.’ I rubbed my temples. Angellin. Angels. I sucked in a shaky breath. ‘Okay, so these Tr’lirians are real, but I don’t see what they have to do with me.’
‘Your necklace is made from the remains of one of them.’
‘What? Eeww.’ I scrambled for the chain, using the tips of two fingers to hold the necklace away from my skin. ‘Get it off me.’
Chris shook his head, mirth brimming in his eyes. ‘You’ve been wearing it for days. If you were going to catch dead person germs, you’d have done so by now. Besides, the only way you’re getting rid of it is if you die and the necklace is taken from you. If the necklace is left on when you die, you’ll be resurrected in your newly healed body.’
I let go of my necklace and sank down onto the couch. ‘Who was she?’
Chris went to a sideboard and opened a drawer to pull out a sheet of paper. He walked back over to me and held it out. ‘Killian faxed me a copy of a painting that was found with the scroll. Look familiar?’
I looked at the picture and gasped when my own eyes gazed back at me. Their shape and the arch of the brow above them filled me with a dizzying familiarity. Yet this woman’s lips, curving in a mocking smile, were fuller than my own and the difference helped ground my senses and allow me to analyse this face appearing to hold so much of myself.
The shape of our faces, the colour of our cheeks, the silky fall of long black hair; it was all too similar to be a coincidence. From the photos I had of her, I could also see parts of my mother in this woman. Mum had the fuller lips, though hers had never been captured in such a way as to appear to be mocking all who gazed upon her. All three of our body shapes were the same, petite and fine boned yet with enough curves to keep us from appearing boyish.
But while the similarities between us were striking, one main difference set her apart. Wings spread out behind her, as black and glossy as her hair. The detail of the picture was breathtaking, each feather appearing to shimmer with movement, as if she were about to take flight from the page binding her image.
‘I’m related to her?’ I shook my head, unable to believe this magnificent creature, with her night wings and air of superiority, could bear any relation to me.
He nodded. ‘Apparently all of Malia’s female descendants could pass as her twin, destined to bear the burden of her shame.’ He pointed at the necklace.
‘Shame?’ If the picture was an accurate representation, as its resemblance to my mother and I suggested, Malia had not been the type of woman to feel shame. Disdain, scorn, dominance, these emotions and more were invoked by her image. Shame was not evident in either her stance or the contemptuous tilt of her head as she confronted the person painting her picture, almost like she challenged them to produce an image even half as glorious as she knew herself to be.
‘Malia had plenty to be ashamed of. She killed her rival, Liren, and started a war between the two largest Tr’lirian clans. A war that is still going on, and has spilled over to all five planes.’
‘Five?’ My stomach tightened.
‘Angellin, the astral plane, the physical plane we ordinary humans inhabit, the Underworld and a lower plane the Tr’lirians call Demania.’
A nervous giggle burst out of me. ‘Demania. Demons. Hell.’ I shook my head and refocused. ‘You said Malia started a war. What happened?’
‘She and Liren were in love with the same man, a human, and Malia wanted to make her rival less attractive. She enlisted the help of human men who looked upon her as a Goddess, ordering them to capture Liren and rip her wings from her back, making her mortal and essentially trapping her on the physical plane. When the object of her affection found out what she had done he scorned Malia’s love and swore his heart remained true to Liren, which should have been the end of it.’
‘But it wasn’t.’ Though I felt sorry for Malia in losing out, the lengths she had gone to sickened me.
He gave a sad half smile. ‘A couple of years after she lost her wings, the men who had previously attacked Liren paid another visit, one she did not survive.’
‘Oh no.’
‘Oh yes, and when her brother, Cade, found out what had happened he vowed Malia would suffer the same fate. He tore her wings from her body with his own hands, condemning her to exile amongst the humans who had once worshipped her. When she died, her remains cremated, the necklace was found in the ashes and placed around the neck of her daughter. It was then passed down from daughter to daughter for several generations until it was lost, several hundred years ago.’
‘But wouldn’t the necklace have brought them back to life as it did me?’
Chris grimaced. ‘For the power of the necklace to be invoked the descendant has to be dead, in the Underworld, when it is first placed on them. Which explains why Grimm had Dusty kill you.’
‘How can what happens to me in the Underworld affect me in the real world? I died wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and came back to life in a white dress and with this.’ I tapped the necklace. ‘How is it possible?’
‘Your necklace is a part of Malia. Even though she lost her wings and could never return to Angellin, as a full-blooded Tr’lirian she could still step in and out of the astral plane and the necklace has retained that ability. It allows you to access the astral plane when you reap and ensures changes made to your attire while in the Underworld are carried back into this plane.’
How was I supposed to respond to finding out I had such a twisted family history? It should have sounded impossible, and yet I could tell Chris believed every word of it. But I still had questions. ‘If Malia was punished, why is the war still going on?’
‘Malia also had a brother, Almorthanos, and he was furious when he discovered what Cade had done to his sister. As the leader of Clan Davilia, he declared war on Cade and Clan Godden, forcing them into a conflict where many lost their wings and their immortality. Minor clans took sides and battle raged throughout the planes for seven centuries before Cade and his allies managed to separate Almorthanos from his followers and corner him in Dema
nia. Cade stripped his enemy of his wings, trapping him, and then left him to die.’
I frowned. ‘If both Malia and Almorthanos are dead, who is fighting the war?’
‘Almorthanos isn’t dead. Time stands still in Demania. Even though he has been imprisoned for almost two thousand years he hasn’t aged a day. By the time Cade realised this it was too late for him to go back and finish the job. You see, Demania is like the Underworld, comprised of nether and capable of becoming anything and everything if you have the will to shape it. Almorthanos has total control over what happens there and has been able to keep Cade and his followers out.’
‘How do you know all this? Ordinary researchers, no matter how good they are, couldn’t dig up information on what is happening on other planes. Where are you getting this from?’
‘Hey, don’t knock Killian or his people. They’ve dedicated their lives to researching this stuff. And you’d be surprised by the amount of information that is available. But a lot of this stuff ties in to things I heard while I was working for Grimm. I’d just never put any stock in it until now.’
I got up and started pacing, unable to calm the storm raging within my head. I wasn’t a religious fanatic who would denounce anyone who came up with an alternative version of events than the one presented in the Bible. I hadn’t given it a lot of thought before, but in the back of my mind the idea of there being someone, something, a presence, watching over us all had been comforting. It didn’t need to be God or all He represented. I just needed to believe that life had a purpose and a plan.
I’d imagined one day, a long way away, I would be reunited with my mother. While I had no picture in mind of where our reunion would take place I had been sure it would be somewhere beautiful and peaceful and we’d never be parted again. My faith had taken a blow when I’d discovered Grimm had stopped my mother from moving on. To find out atheists and fanatics alike had been duped by stories of the Tr’lirians was even worse. It was soul destroying.
‘What have I been doing?’ I spun around and clutched at Chris’s arms. ‘The souls I’ve been collecting, what happens to them if there’s no God?’
Chris grabbed my arms and steadied me. ‘You didn’t do anything. The souls you have been collecting are stored in your necklace. Until you hand them over to Grimm they are safe.’
‘And if he makes me hand them over, what then? And what about the souls collected by other reapers? What happens to them?’ I didn’t want to be calmed down. I wanted to rage, to scream, to smash Grimm into a thousand pieces and scatter them through the planes so he could never be reassembled.
Chris shook his head and gave a sigh. ‘I didn’t want to tell you any of this until I had concrete information on how to use your necklace. I wanted to spare you the truth.’
I shook his arms. ‘I don’t want to be spared. I need to know what is going on.’
‘All right, but first I want you to sit down.’
I pulled away, not wanting to be constrained, needing to keep moving, but Chris wouldn’t let me go. He pushed me down on to the couch and knelt in front of me, my hands trapped in his, and my stomach heaved. The classic position for declarations of love and proposals of marriage was an obscene contrast with our topic of conversation. I tugged on his hands and made him sit beside me but the churning in my stomach did not ease and wouldn’t if I couldn’t handle the truth.
Chris rubbed the backs of my hands with his thumbs, a soothing gesture guaranteed to fail. ‘Grimm works for Almorthanos. When he talks about Death, he’s referring to his boss, not himself. I don’t have all the details, but Killian believes Grimm has been using the power of the souls that reapers like you and I have collected to create a doorway between Demania and the Underworld.’
I closed my eyes, the churning in my stomach increasing as I thought about how many souls had been abused by Grimm and the role I was supposed to play. I put a hand on my necklace.
‘I’m the key. Grimm needs me to set Almorthanos free.’
Chapter 32
I let go of my necklace and rubbed my forehead. My head felt tight, skin stretched over brittle bones, I fought the urge to weep. Essentially, the Grim Reaper intended using me to free his master from Hell so he could lead an army against his mortal enemy, and I wore the bones of my winged ancestor around my neck. Reason enough to cry but I couldn’t afford to break down. If Almorthanos escaped from Hell the existence of mankind would be at stake. I could play an instrumental part in destroying the world if I didn’t find a way out of this mess.
Chris let go of my hands and ran long fingers through his hair. ‘Grimm will have you killed and trap you in the Underworld. Then, once he’s sure your body can not be resurrected, he’ll force you to use the necklace’s power to allow Almorthanos to gain access to the Underworld.’
‘No,’ I said as I got to my feet. ‘This doesn’t make sense. If all he wants is for me to free Almorthanos, then why did he resurrect me? He already had me trapped in the Underworld.’
‘Maybe you had to become attuned to the necklace before you could use it or charge it with souls to make it work.’
‘There’s got to be more to it.’ I thought back over all my conversations with Grimm. When he hadn’t been torturing me, he’d been obsessing about finding “Ash”. I stared at Chris.
‘It’s you.’
‘What’s me?’
‘You said that time stands still in Demania. Is it the same in the Underworld?’
‘No, time flows normally there,’ said Chris, eyes narrowing.
‘So Almorthanos would start to age and he wouldn’t be able to leave, not without wings. He’d just be exchanging one prison for another where he would eventually die.’
‘True, but I imagine Grimm will then build a new door between the Underworld and here.’
‘It has taken hundreds of years for Grimm to build the first doorway. I don’t think Almorthanos would be willing to wait for him to build a second one. He’s been trapped for thousands of years. He needs to get out of there, fast, if he plans on going up against Cade. You’re the only soul to escape from the Underworld into a living body. If I’m the key to opening the door between Hell and the Underworld, you’re the one leading to Earth.’
Chris sprang up from the couch, his long legs bringing him to my side in two steps. ‘If you’re right, you are in even more danger than I thought. We have to keep you out of the Underworld. You can’t die.’
‘You’re the one I’m worried about. If Grimm finds out who you are he’ll kill you and make you tell him how you were brought back to life. If Almorthanos can do the same thing, the entire world is in danger.’
‘It doesn’t matter what happens to me, and Grimm can’t make me tell him what I don’t know. I have no idea how I came to be in Chris Bradbury’s body. But if you die, your soul trapped in the Underworld, Grimm will force you to free Almorthanos. Together they’ll find a way to get him to this world, whether it’s via another door or some other way. They’re not going to stop until they get what they want.’
I rubbed at my temples as a dull ache settled behind my eyes. It would build into a migraine if I didn’t do something to stop it, but I had so many questions still to be answered.
‘What about Grimm? Is he a Tr’lirian, trapped like Almorthanos?’
Chris shook his head. ‘Grimm was created by nether when Earth was first formed, to collect the souls of the dead and send them on to the next stage of life. At first he wasn’t aware, existing solely to do his duty, but as humans evolved so did he. With each soul he absorbed his awareness grew but he didn’t become a fully sentient being until Almorthanos became trapped in such close proximity to him.’
‘Almorthanos brought him to life. No wonder Grimm’s trying to free him.’
‘According to Killian, Almorthanos has also promised to find a way to allow Grimm to enter the physical plane. He’ll stop at nothing to set his master free.’
My stomach heaved. Bad enough that he was able to interact with this
plane via mirrors, if he gained the ability to enter it, it would be nothing short of catastrophic.
My mother was his prisoner. Sarah had been turned into a Wraith and Grimm expected me to sacrifice Chris to save my mother and me. Even if I did, our salvation would be short lived. Grimm needed me dead, his promise to release my mother most probably a lie. We would never be free, not even in death.
A spike of pain drilled its way through my temple and I put up a hand to press against the side of my head. ‘I have to go. My head is about to split open. I need to get some headache tablets before it turns into a migraine.’
Chris strode over to the phone. ‘What do you need? I’ll ring the front desk and they’ll send someone out to get it.’
‘I have what I need at home. I can pick them up on my way to the police station. I have to be there at two o’clock to make a statement about what happened last night.’
Chris’s eyes darkened. ‘You’re going to Lockwood.’
‘Detective Lockwood is handling the investigation and I have to figure out how to explain Sarah showing up at the flat after being pronounced dead, without revealing my former best friend got turned into a Wraith by the Grim Reaper and tried to kill me. This is not going to be a social visit.’
‘I wouldn’t count on it. He’s determined to take you away from me and he’s not afraid to use his job to do it.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘Is it? Do you think it’s a coincidence he showed up when you were here on Sunday? He could have let me know my alibi checked out over the phone. He didn’t need to tell me face-to-face. He’s got someone watching me and as soon as he finds out you’re with me he comes running. I’m surprised he hasn’t turned up today, but I guess the alibi excuse no longer holds up.’
‘You’re overreacting. Sam wouldn’t-’
‘The guy kissed you yesterday, right in front of me. He’ll do whatever it takes to get me out of your life.’
Lost Reaper Page 20
