22. Dani

I find myself standing in the middle of an empty parking lot with no memory of how I got there. Darkness swaddled me like a blanket, but I found little comfort in it as the bone-chilling cold compressed my chest and breath escaped my nose in small puffs of vapor.

Where the hell am I? The last thing I remember was falling asleep in Ashe's guest room—well, I guess it's been more or less my room now. Besides, it was the middle of summer in south Texas. The air should not be this frigid!

A shiver rattles my spine and as I rub my hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm them I realize that I'm still dressed in my pajamas.

Right, I'm dreaming. Lovely.

I draw in a ragged breath as I try to assess my whereabouts but, seeing as how I can barely see two feet in front of me, it was a hopeless endeavor. I've had my fair share of strange dreams before, but even for a dream this place felt wrong.

“Fear not the demons that lurk in the dark.”

It takes a moment before I realize that the words had left my lips and I blink. They sounded foreign on my tongue, echoing in the emptiness and, nervously, I glance around. Countless glowing red eyes stare back from the shadows that swirl around me and a panic wells up in my chest.

This isn't real. It was a dream, or a nightmare. A dark, damp, creepy nightmare. Pull yourself together, Dani. The words offer me little solace, though.

The dark presses in around me, nearly suffocating as it threatened to fill my lungs, and in fear I run. My bare feet slap against cold pavement as I try to flee from the eyes lurking in the darkness. I don't know where I'm running to, or what the hell it is I'm even running from. I just run.

Something grabs my ankle and I trip, scraping my knee on the concrete as I fall and I hiss in pain. This was a dream, dammit. You don't feel pain in your dreams!

My heart jumps to my throat as the shadows close in and fear grips my mind. Wake up, wake up, wake up!

Somewhere up ahead, as if hearing my plea, a light clicks on and the red eyes scatter.

Voices carry on in the darkness, mumbled gibberish that I don't understand, and slowly I push myself to my feet. The light draws me in, beckoning to me like the siren call of a lighthouse in the middle of a storm, but it wasn't the only thing that piqued my interest. I knew one of those voices.

A terrible sense of urgency washes over me and I stumble toward the light. The fresh wound on my knee burns with each step but I had to push on. I had to get to her!

A faceless people stand in a circle, the hoods of their black robes drawn over their heads as they chant in a language I don't recognize. As I step closer my attention is drawn to the center, where a familiar head of fiery red hair comes into view instead of the bubbly blonde I had been expecting to see.

“Ashe?” What was she doing in my dream?

She turns to me and I stop in my tracks. Blue flames dance in place of those beautiful hazel eyes and a wicked grin curls her lips as she spreads her arms out wide and steps forward. The strange aromatic scent of vanilla and sulfur wafts in the air between us as she draws near, filling my entire being and stirring the butterflies in my stomach.

“You did this, Dani,” she whispers, her breath hot against my mouth, and my skin prickles. She was so close!

“Did what?” The fire in her eyes was hypnotic, drawing me in like a moth to a flame, but I didn't care. If burning was the price I had to pay to kiss the sun then let me burn in her fire.

She laughs, a hollow and distant sound, and lowers her chin. Reluctantly, I follow her gaze. The scream that rips from my throat was unlike any sound I had ever heard before.

Thick black blood oozes from the gaping hole in Ashe's chest, dripping down her bare stomach like tar. Something wet pulsates in my hand and when I turn to look I'm holding her heart. What the fuck! I don't know whether I should scream, faint or try to shove the organ back into the hole it came from.

Ashe wraps her fingers over mine and lifts her still-beating heart to my lips. Blood runs in dark rivulets down my arm, staining my skin as her heart palpitates against my chin. The metallic odor invades my nostrils, overwhelming my senses and my stomach churns.

“Open the door.”

Door? What door? What the hell was she talking about?

I shake my head and reach for her with a trembling hand. “No, w-we need to put this back in.” It makes absolutely no sense, but fuck it—this was my dream, I was not about to let it end like this!

“Open the door, Oracle,” she repeats, her empty words mingling with the ambient chanting of the faceless strangers as she takes a step back. “Destroy the heart. Set me free.”

“I don't know what you're saying!” I chase after her, determined to return her heart to her chest. Goddammit, I was not about to let her bleed to death, dream or not!

Just as my fingers brush against her arm, the dark blood seeping from her chest fans out and engulfs her like a cocoon. In my surprise I jump back. What the hell is going on?

The beating heart in my hand begins to smoke and reflexively I toss it back to where it came from. Big mistake. The cocoon erupts into flames, the tarry substance catching quickly and melting away, but the creature that now stood in the center of the inferno before me was no longer Ashe.

Golden eyes glare at me from the fiery depths, long jagged claws swiping at the air as twisted black horns protrude from atop her head. Glowing lines were etched into the surface of her steely blue skin like veins of gold and her auburn hair whirled around her sharp angular face as blue flames crawled up her arms. She was Athena on fire, as awe-inspiring as she was frightening, and all I could do was stare at my own reckoning.

The demon lets loose an enraged shriek and lunges for my throat. “Set me free!”

“Ashe!”

I bolt upright in the bed, my skin slick with sweat and my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

City lights seep in from the window, casting shadows on the walls, but a quick glance around reveals that I'm safe inside my room and a shaky sigh of relief whistles through my nostrils. No red eyes glowing from the dark, no bloody beating hearts in my hand, no searing blue flames. No demonic, nightmarish version of Ashe trying to kill me.

A chuckle tickles my throat and I pinch the bridge of my nose. It was just a dream. One of the craziest, creepiest, most intense dreams I've had in a while, but a dream nonetheless. Still, it had all felt so real . . .

Silver smoke billows out from under the bed, shimmering in the incandescent lighting as it swirled like fog across the floor. Before I can so much as arch an eyebrow at the surreality of it all, something heavy crashes against me and knocks me back against the mattress with a gasp.

“What the—!”

A pair of wide hazel eyes stare out from beneath a furrowed brow, inches from my own, and my cheeks burn as I realize that she's straddling me. “A-Ashe?”

The room was awash in the subdermal glow of her fire, sending the shadows waltzing over the ceiling like shapeless dancers. “Where is she?” she pants, her eyes slightly glazed as she leans back and glances around. “Where is she!”

I sit up, slowly, as if Ashe were a cornered animal and any sudden movement would startle her. From the way her eyes darted around and her chest heaved, she very well could be. Am I still dreaming?

“Where's who?”

The fog lifts from her gaze as recognition illuminates her face and the redhead rocks back with a hiss, taking some of her heat with her. “Why'd you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You know what!” Those piercing eyes latch onto my own and my breath hitches in my throat. “You summoned me, Dani. In my own goddamn apartment!”

Nope, this was most definitely not a dream. I still don't know how I keep doing that, but now was probably not the best time to remind her of that fact. “I'm sorry, I didn't know! I was having this nightmare and—”

“A dream? You summoned me because of a dream? How could you do something so stupid!”

It felt real enough to me!

I cross my arms and lean back, trying my best to fixate her with a glare of my own. I was thankful that it was too dark for her to see the blush that still painted my face from our close proximity. “Well if you would explain how this all works then maybe I'd quit doing it!”

“I don't know how it works!” she seethes. “But you called out for me and the ring pulled me to you. You created a backdoor in here of all places. They know where I fucking live!”

“Who the hell is 'they'?”

Her eyes flash with the realization of what she had said and as she lets out a flustered sigh her shoulders visibly deflate. She takes a moment to compose herself before she squares her gaze with mine.

“The 'imminent danger' bullshit I've been trying to keep you from,” she growls as the glow in her veins simmers down until her anger is no longer burning so brightly. “They think you're an unregistered witch, Dani. And after this they'll find out about my soul ring. They'll be coming after us both now.”

My curiosity stirs and I press further, eager to finally get some answers about her mysterious world. “Who is coming, Ashe?”

She tilts her chin. “The Tribunal.”

Despite the sour look she wore and the danger implicated in her words, I can't stop the snigger that gurgles in my chest. “The who?”

Her lips twist into a scowl as sharp as any razor. “You wouldn't be laughing if you knew the lengths they'd go to just to keep their secrets.”

“I'm sorry, Ashe, it's just—they sound like some evil shadow government from a B-rated movie! I mean, the Tribunal? Really?”

“It's an alliance of our species, formed in a time of turmoil, and those who serve on the Tribunal's council sit above even the laws of their own people. Together they've ruled over the supernatural for a thousand years, keeping our kind in check by any means necessary.” She lifts her arms and in the dim light the glint of something long and silver coiled up on the sheets between us catches my eye. “I would know.”

“Why are you wearing chains?”

“I'm not wearing chains,” she snaps, and to my surprise the metal links slowly recede, curling around her arms and dissolving into her skin until they were little more than a tattoo. “I am chained.”

I shift nervously. “What the hell was that?” Has her tattoo always been able to do that? Was this another demon thing?

“My mark.” She grimaces as if the very word tasted foul on her tongue. “The mark of a Reaper.”

“A what?” Did she say reaper? “You mean you—”

“We don't escort dead souls to the afterlife,” Ashe says, her tone dripping with irritation. “You find that path on your own. My job is to keep the balance between the supernatural and the natural, between the mortal and the immortal here on earth. We're who the Tribunal sends in to bury the truth.”

“Your job?” Is that what has her out at all hours of the night? “What exactly is it that you do?”

The look that fell over her face held something I never thought I would see on such a fiery, self-assured goddess: shame. “I kill people, Dani.”

An uncomfortable silence descends between us as I try to process her words.

She kills people. She walks the streets at night and she kills people in the name of some ancient shadow organization, and for what? All so that the secret of their existence remains hidden? If I didn't already know that she was a demon or that supernatural creatures actually lived among us, I would think that this was all too unbelievable to be true.

And yet, this is Ashe I was talking to.

The demon that was sitting here confessing to murdering people is the same woman who saved my life not so long ago when she had no reason to do so. This is the same woman who covered me with a blanket to keep me from shivering in the cold while I pretended to lay asleep on her couch, the same woman who unconsciously opens doors for me and makes me a cup of coffee in the mornings before she leaves and asks if I need anything in the small moments that we've had to ourselves. She was the same woman who stares at me, with that contemplative look that someone would wear as they stared in curious wonder at a piece of abstract art, when she thinks I'm not looking.

After Catalina's stunt at the café earlier, I knew full well what their kind was capable of—hell, that alone should be enough to have me running for the hills! But, despite her admission and the veiled threat behind what she is, I know in my gut that Ashe won't hurt me. And it's not only because of the soul ring that compels her to keep me safe from harm. I know it as a fact, just as plainly as if I've known her my whole life. I feel it in my bones.

“Do you have to?”

She stares at me for a long while, hazel eyes searching my own as if she were searching for the answers to the universe. Finally, surprisingly, a small chuckle leaves her lips.

“Of all the questions you could ask . . .” Her voice trails off and she shakes her head. “There's a reason the mark we wear—that is, the tattoo—is in the shape of a chain. I'm bound to my duty. I can't quit even if I wanted to.”

“That's terrible.” Still, my curiosity deepens. “So, why Reapers?”

“The witch who created the mark was named Mortticus Grimm.”

Grim Reapers. “That's where the legend comes from?”

“I guess you could say the narcissistic bastard had a twisted sense of humor. He created the program centuries ago and his descendants are the only ones who know the secret behind how the mark works.” She laughs, a dry sound that quickly transgresses into a sharp hiss. “Pretty good bargaining chip in exchange for a seat on the Tribunal, if you ask me.”

I recognize that flicker of pain all too well. It was reminiscent of the first night I had accidentally summoned her. “Are you injured right now?” I reach for the lamp on the bedside table. I swear to God if she was hurt again—

“I'm fine,” she protests. I click the light on, anyway.

Wild strands of red hair framed her face like a fuzzy halo and the black tank top she wore was tattered and soiled. Pools of blood stained the satin sheets a dark gray as they ooze from her shoulder and the deep puncture wound in her side. Those wounds, coupled with the amount of blood she had no doubt lost between now and who knows when she sustained them, were enough to kill any mortal.

Good thing she's immortal. Knowing that, it still didn't shock me any less when she showed up like this. It was starting to become a bad habit.

“Jesus, Ashe, are you trying to get yourself killed!”

She winces as I roll out of the bed. “I told you, I'm fine. Just a little banged up is all.”

“Lay down,” I order as I dig around the room. I don't have to look to know that she had complied, the muttered curses and grunts of pain told me as much.

When I finally locate the supplies I was searching for, a necessity from my old apartment when I learned that Ashe kept not even a bandaid in stock, I turn back around to find her sprawled out on her stomach across the bed and my jaw goes slack. Large scratches the size of my forearm line her back, the frayed pieces of her shirt sticking to the dried blood and jagged edges of ripped flesh.

“What happened to you this time?” I wonder aloud as I withdraw a pair of trauma shears, a bottle of saline and a few pieces of sterile gauze from the medical bag.

“Got any whiskey in that kit of yours?” The redhead peers over her shoulder, wisps of hair framing her chiseled face and my chest tightens. That had to be the sexiest, most unintentional come-hither look I have ever seen.

My abdomen lights up as if someone just struck a match and forbidden images sear the fringes of my imagination. “N-no,” I stutter, clearing my throat as I try to bite back the heat that once more flushes my cheeks. I grip the shears and tip them toward her. “I'll need to cut off your shirt, though.” My entire being is on fire at the unintended implication of my words.

Why does she do this to me?

Ashe simply shrugs, but before she turns back around I swear I see a smirk flitter on her lips. “That's one way to take my clothes off,” she murmurs under her breath, so low that I almost didn't hear it, and my heart leaps to my throat.

Was she flirting with me?

No, impossible. She has gone above and beyond to ignore me for the past few weeks. There was absolutely no way that she was being flirtatious now. And why would she be? She's injured, for Christ's sake! Get it together, Dani!

Carefully, I cut away the torn fabric and remove the shirt from her body. The areas of her skin that were not marred or blemished were smooth, like polished marble. I fight the urge to trace my fingers over the pale surface as I dab at her wounds with the saline-soaked gauze.

“Where'd you learn all of this, anyway?”

“All of what?”

Her head tilts in my direction. “Dressing wounds.”

I shrug, though I am grateful for the distraction. I don't think my face could get any redder. “I was going to school for nursing up until a year ago.” A small smile flickers on my lips. That seemed like a lifetime ago, now. “I wanted to be a neurologist.”

“Why'd you quit?”

“I didn't want to,” I admit, a small pang of guilt thumping in my chest. “But when we started clinicals at the hospital I just, I couldn't deal with their pain anymore. It was too much.” I felt too much. My mom often said that although I had a knack for helping people, I would let my emotions get in the way of my obligation to my patients if I didn't set them aside or learn to bottle them down. I was like my dad in that regard, she would tease, a walking receiver for emotional transmissions.

As a registered nurse, herself, she was a little disappointed when she discovered that I had dropped out before I could complete the program—even more so when she found out that Monica was the final catalyst behind my decision to withdraw. But I would rather not reflect on that mess right now. I needed to keep my focus on treating Ashe's wounds.

“So are battle scars like these one of the perks of being a Reaper?” I say it in jest, but as her shoulders tense I instantly regret my words. “Sorry.” Idiot! “What, um, what did this to you?”

“An angry cougar.” The redhead then sighs as she whispers, “And a ghost, come back to haunt me.”

“Was that the 'she' you mentioned earlier?”

She doesn't reply and, afraid to push her any further on the subject, I don't pry. A routine silence descends over us as I toss the blood-soaked gauze pad to the floor and grab another. Within seconds that one is soiled, too, and I inwardly sigh. It's a damn good thing she's immortal and that these wounds will heal on their own, but until then, it made me feel good to offer her at least some comfort.

Once I finish cleaning the lesions on her back, I motion for her to turn over. She obeys, cautiously rolling to her side and pushing herself up until her back was against the headboard. My eyes roam over her body, absorbing the way the muscles in her stomach contract with each breath and how the frayed lining of her black sports bra clung tightly to her modest bosom. A bead of sweat dribbles down her neck, resting in the hollow of her clavicle, and compulsively I lick my lips.

Focus, dammit!

“Do you, I don't know.” I suck in a breath, shattering the silence as I dab at her shoulder. Was that a bite mark? “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

She lowers her head and in that moment it looked as if the weight of the entire world was finally crashing down around her. “Everyone who ever gets close to me dies,” she says after a while, her jaw clenching as tears glisten in her eyes. “I'm tired, Dani, I'm so tired of being surrounded by death. Of fighting everything. Of being a monster among monsters.”

It was such a tender moment of vulnerability, so heartwrenching and utterly unlike her usual display of confidence, that impulsively I cup her chin and lift it until she meets my gaze. “You aren't the monster you seem to think you are.”

“You don't even know me. How can you be so sure?”

“Rough edges usually hide a gentle soul,” I muse. “Don't get me wrong, you're plenty scary when you're angry! But it's in the little things you do when you think no one's watching that show me who you really are. Besides, I've always had a sense about people and I've been around you long enough to know that true monsters don't save lives.”

“I took three lives today, Dani. One of them was just a kid. I didn't even know it until—” She grits her teeth and averts her eyes with an agitated huff.

A kid? Jesus, that was heavy. “Did you want to do it?”

“I didn't have a fucking choice.”

My gaze drops to the silver-inked tattoo that lurked under the blood coating her arms. She may wear magical chains that could do God-knows-what, but I didn't believe for a second that she enjoyed killing people for a living. The way her shoulders sagged with the weight of such a burden told me as much. “I understand that, Ashe, but I need to hear you say it. You need to hear you say it.”

She takes a moment to absorb my words, her breaths slow and shallow, before finally she shakes her head. “No.”

“Then you aren't a monster.” My lips curl into a soft smile that I hope is reassuring. “The bastards who gave you those chains and send you out at night, though, they're the real monsters.”

“I brought you into this world when you didn't ask for it.” When she finally lifts her gaze, her eyes shine with a sadness so deep it rips my heart. “I may as well have signed your death sentence, too.”

“You didn't force me to put the ring on, Ashe. I did it because I wanted to. And I don't regret it. Any of it.”

She blinks and the world stands still.

In that moment I realize just how close I am to her and my stomach flutters. My fingers gently caress her jawline and her eyes widen a fraction as she comes to the same realization. But she doesn't pull back. She doesn't push me away, either, and my heart begins to sprint.

Thump, thump.

Her hazel hues flicker under my stare, eyebrows creasing and lifting as she analyzes the depths of my soul. “Why can't I read you?”

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

“I'm not a book, Ashe,” I whisper, inadvertently leaning closer as I push the unspoken boundaries that had been set between us. I doubt I would get the chance to toe this line again. “But ask me anything and I'll tell you. I don't have any secrets to hide.”

Am I sure I'm not still dreaming? This can't possibly be real!

“Everyone has secrets.” Her skin is hot against mine, her scent invading my nose as the air between us ignites from the fever that seems to have gripped us both. Shivers crawl up my spine and I'm sure I might just explode from the intensity of it all.

Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump!

I was flying too close to the sun, drawn in by her warmth and a desire to soak it up until it filled me. Or killed me.

I didn't realize just how much I ached to touch her like this until my lips were hovering over hers, separated by only a breath. It was a breath that I was more than happy to give her.

Did she feel the same?

The sudden ringing in Ashe's pocket jars me to my senses and I jump back before my lips could taste her fire.

“Nadia?” she breathed into the phone, her brow furrowing as reality snapped her out of whatever daze we had both been under. She meets my stare and the moment we had nearly shared was shattered in an instant. “We need to talk.”

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A/N: Oh, Dani girl, what are you doing? Don't you know you shouldn't play with fire!

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