Chapter 1
Death is my curse
His time has come…
Abigail’s cryptic words have lingered with me all summer. No matter how hard I’ve tried to shake them, they’ve settled underneath my skin, making a home just beneath the surface.
As much as I want to forget them, it’s an impossible task.
To make matters worse, after all the energy Abigail must have expelled fighting Cat’s Fetch, I’ve only managed to catch glimpses of her. They’re fleeting and nowhere near enough time to question her on what those words meant. It’s maddening.
I shudder, unable to stay warm any longer. The brisk chill of being on the cusp of fall has crept into the evening air. I pull my sweatshirt in tighter, letting the shiver roll through me. Despite the change in temps, I can’t be bothered to go inside just yet.
My gaze flits from the glittering water to the setting sun hanging low above the pond. Deep-gold tendrils soak in the magenta ribbons of the sky, as if the added color somehow feeds it. Closing my eyes, I breathe in deeply through my nose, wishing the clean air could wash away the worry buried in my soul.
Even if Abigail’s warning weren’t enough—every time I look at Wade I see something else. Something that wasn’t there before. As much as I love him, as much as I want to be with him… I can’t shake this intense dread that his father was right.
Death follows me wherever I go.
It’s like I’m stuck inside an episode of “Buffy.” Only, death isn’t my gift. It’s my curse.
I don’t want to be the reason Wade loses his one chance at being human. Of experiencing all this one and only life has to offer… I don’t want to be the reason he dies an early death and has to forfeit it all. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
My breath hitches in my throat and I blink away the liquid terror escaping from my eyes.
Wade has tried so hard to keep up the status quo. I know he wants this to work desperately, but…
My chin quivers. Despite trying to find an answer, I know what has to be done—what I’ve always needed to do. I’ve just been too scared to think it, or say it out loud.
Not that I’ve had anyone I could say it to other than him.
I’ve had no one to talk to. Cat and Colton are gone. Evidently, thanks to Colton’s stunt last year, they’ve been transferred to another academy closer to the psychic Diana Hawthorne so she can keep an eye on them. Granted, it was probably a wise move, but still. Without Cat at least, their absence has created a vacuum for all of my thoughts to spiral around inside my head whenever I find myself alone…which seems to be happening more and more.
Maybe it’s my destiny?
Look at my mom and dad… Abigail…
The landscape is changing now with school starting back up, and I can’t help but think now’s the time. Wade could still find someone new. Someone who isn’t bad news for him.
Someone his Angel of Death father will approve of…
Someone normal.
Instantly, my mind conjures up images of Chelsea, Wade’s strawberry-blond, green-eyed landlady. She’s funny, pretty, and…uncomplicated. She’s practically me, but the light version.
My insides twist and my heart constricts in on itself. The impulse to gag tugs at the back of my throat, but something in the recesses of my mind resonates with the idea.
He’d be better off with her.
“Hey there, beautiful. I thought I might find you out here,” Wade says, making my insides try to jump outside. I hadn’t even heard his footsteps coming up behind me.
Wiping quickly at my face to hide the tears, I shoot him a halfhearted smile and attempt to stand up.
“No, no… sit,” he says, dropping down beside me on the dock.
I sit back down, unsure how to handle this moment. I wasn’t expecting it to come so soon. Panic claws at my insides and I blink back the emotions still washing over me.
Swallowing hard, I turn to him. “So, what brings you here? Everything okay?”
Glancing at me, his silver eyes sparkle mischievously. There’s an air of anxious energy in the way he holds himself. He doesn’t say anything, so I narrow my gaze, trying to figure out what he’s up to.
Finally, he chuckles. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. Everything’s fine. What about you? You seem a little…”
“I’m fine,” I say, brushing off his observation by swiping my hand in the air. Guilt instantly jabs me in the ribs, but I ignore it. “Just wanted to sit outside and enjoy the end of summer. It’ll be too cold to sit out here soon.”
“You’re not kidding. It’s freezing already,” he says, cramming his hands under his armpits and shivering.
The cool breeze ruffles his dark hair. With the sun’s low light, it highlights the strands of red woven through the black, making it look like flames flickering against the royal blue sky.
“Did you want to head inside?” I say, pointing back toward the manor.
“Only if you want to. I don’t want to cut your relaxation short,” he says shaking his head.
“I haven’t eaten yet. We could head inside to grab a bite,” I offer, trying to buy myself some time.
“That might be nice, actually,” he says, grinning again. He stands up quickly, practically bouncing off the dock with enthusiasm. Bending back down, he extends a hand to me.
Taking his offering, I pull myself up to a stand. “Thanks.”
Wade lifts his arm, twirling me in a circle on the spot. “You are most welcome, Ms. Blackwood.”
Unable to help myself, a small smile lifts the corner of my lips.
Wade locks eyes with me long enough to make me squirm under his silver scrutiny.
Without batting an eye, his features soften and he whispers, “God, you’re so beautiful. I love the way the sunlight ignites your hair. It’s like the sun is setting in those strands.” Grinning broadly, he twirls a finger through one of my unruly auburn curls.
I run a hand across my collar bone, wishing like hell I could find a way to change what we are. “Wade, I have something—”
He holds up a finger, pressing it to my lips. “Eh, eh…nope. Me first.” Removing his finger, he shrugs sheepishly. “I mean, I know it should usually be ladies first, but you’ll just have to deal this time, Dru.” He winks at me, sending a wave of anguish cascading through my entire being.
My lips tighten and my mouth goes dry. Nodding, I raise a hand, allowing him to proceed.
“Actually, you’ll need to come with me,” he says, his eyes once again sparkling. He takes my hand, leading the way off the dock.
Confusion rolls through me but I can’t seem to muster enough energy to formulate a reason for his near-giddy excitement. Instead, I fight the bile rising in the back of my throat and the unrelenting nervous energy. I know if I don’t act soon, I’ll lose my nerve altogether. Instead, I’ll want to stay in his arms and ignore the pain and suffering being together will inevitably bring.
As we walk through the courtyard hand-in-hand, he plucks one of the red roses from the garden and hands it to me. “But he, who dares not grasp the thorn, should never crave the rose.”
Pressing the stem between my fingertips, I tip my head in acknowledgment. “Anne Brontë.”