Chapter 29

”The ethical implications of my experiments weigh substantially on my conscience. My resolve remains steadfast, however, in the pursuit of a benevolent future.”

-Excerpt from the personal journal of Dr. Claude Foster, Director of Faeology at Mesmeric Labs

FANTASIA

Ashattering sound causes me to gasp, and I whip toward the noise. Reed and a brunette girl stand bent over the counter side by side, giggling. Splintered chunks of white ceramic lay broken at their feet in the kitchen.

“Is that my mug?” I storm toward them, picking up the big pieces and confirming it’s my favorite coffee cup. “Fucker.”

“It’s just a cup,” the girl says. Her tone comes across as reassuring, rather than cruel or apathetic, but I take a deep breath to keep from cursing her out regardless.

She’s right. It’s just a cup.

Reed bends over the counter and snorts loudly. A second later he stands up, shaking his head and pinching his nose, then inhales sharply.

My stomach roils at seeing the man I once knew—the boy I thought I loved—spiraling. Without thinking, I grab his shoulder and pull him back.

“Reed—” I trail off when I catch sight of the substance on the counter. Glittering grey. “What did you do?” My voice sounds hazy, far away. I barely recognize it. “Reed, what did you do?”

“It was free!” The girl giggles. “Some guys in masks were handing it out downtown.”

Reed laughs, and it’s a dry, empty sound.

And then it’s as if time slows down and speeds up all at once. The air around him, a faint teal hue, begins to waver, slowly desaturating before me.

It fades from a blue-green ocean to a cloudy sky.

Paler and paler.

“No,” I whisper. “No. Not you, you son of a bitch!” I want to reach out and slap him for being so fucking stupid. I want to hug him, tell him I’m sorry for turning my back while he was clearly struggling. But the way the color is leaching from his soul-shade tells me it’s too late.

I turn to the girl, gripping her shoulders.

“Ow!” she says. “The fuck is your problem?”

Ignoring her, I take inventory of her soul-shade—a bright, strong magenta. It seems to be holding steady. I inspect her nostrils, searching for any sign of the sparkling powder. “Did you take any of that?”

“Not yet,” she says, wiggling out of my reach.

“Don’t,” I say, my voice as cold as a corpse. I wanted confirmation that the dreamdust was responsible for killing souls, and now I’ve got it.

But at what cost?

The girl goes still, studying me for a second. Whatever she sees in my expression must affect her, because she gives me a slow nod. I release her, and she pulls away, darting out of the kitchen and toward the front door, taking her bright aura along with her. I don’t bother watching to see if she leaves.

I don’t care.

Turning to Reed, I catch him as he leans forward to snort more of the powder.

“Stop!” I yell, grabbing his arm and yanking him back. “It’ll kill you.”

Reed whips toward me, a hollow smile on his face. “Tasia,” he slurs. “I’ve missed you.”

Sluggishly, he loops his arm around my waist, dragging me close to his body, but I push him away. He stumbles backward into the counter. A dark laugh comes from him, and quicker than I expect, he lurches for me, wrapping his fingers around my throat.

“Ree—” My voice sputters out as he cuts off my oxygen.

“Didn’t you miss me?” he asks, his voice becoming steadier. The aura around his body is fully grey now, a depressing fog that hangs over him like a storm cloud.

It’s too late for him.

I choke, my lungs burning for air.

My vision starts to go black.

It’s not too late for me.

Using all my force, I bring my knee up into his ball sack. He doesn’t double over the way I expect him to, but he does release me for long enough that I’m able to turn away and try to run.

In an instant, he catches me by the waist. I scream as he spins us both around and presses my front against the fridge. Instinctively, I throw my head back, hoping to slam it into his nose, but I only hit air. He must’ve dodged me. I wiggle and thrash, desperate to break his hold.

The dust seems to have given him some sort of abnormal power or insensitivity to pain, because Reed has never been this strong. No man can bounce back from getting his ball sack hit that hard.

“Tasia? Reed?” Stace asks, her voice higher-pitched than normal. “You guys okay?”

Reed keeps his hips pressed against me, pinning me in place. His other hand toys with my throat, squeezing hard enough that I can only let out a strangled gasp. “None of your fucking business,” he says, his tone devoid of emotion.

“Tasia?” Stace asks again.

“We’re making up,” Reed barks. “Tell her,” he whispers so only I can hear. “Tell her to get the fuck out.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly in warning before loosening to allow me to speak.

Stace might not be my favorite person, but she had my back when the Scouts were searching for me. She warned me. She didn’t turn me in.

I can’t let her get hurt because of Reed—because of me.

“Leave us alone, Stace,” I croak out.

“Are you—”

“Get out of here,” I say. “Give us some space for once, dammit.”

“Fine,” she whines, obviously hurt. “I’ll be in my room.”

“Get out of the apartment,” I hiss. Hopefully she’ll pick up on my tone and leave. She’ll spot Archer downstairs. I don’t need him to save me, but my Gods, I do appreciate him being here.

Reed pets my hair, calling me his good girl, and my stomach clenches violently. I swallow the rising bile while he continues to feed me a quiet mixture of sweet nothings and cruel warnings.

A moment later, Stace sighs. Soft footsteps patter away, and the front door clicks open and then clicks shut. My body slumps, relieved that she listened to me.

Reed releases his grip on me just enough that I’m able to wiggle free. Quickly, I spin around, striking his nose with my open palm.

“You bitch!” he shouts. The back of his hand whips out and strikes my cheek so quickly that I see stars and taste blood before I register what happened.

Of all the ways I thought I might meet my death, I never would’ve guessed it’d be in a fistfight with Reed.

I’ve got to get out of here, but he’s blocking the way out of the kitchen. He stands there, smiling at me grimly, with blood spurting out of his nose and down his face, staining his teeth.

I quickly run through my options. He doesn’t seem to be experiencing pain. Getting past him isn’t likely. I could reach for one of the knives stowed away in the drawer behind me, provided I’m quick enough, or I could hop over the counter and bolt for the door.

Neither option is perfect, but they are both better than the alternatives.

We’re coming, a deep, unrecognizable voice says in my head.

I’m losing it.

Deciding the knife is my best option, I shuffle backward as subtly as possible. I reach my fingers out behind me, searching for the drawer and work quickly, tugging it open, but he’s too fast.

He’s beside me in an instant, slamming the drawer shut and barely missing my fingers.

“Please,” I whisper. I stare into his eyes, searching for any sign of recognition.

But he’s gone.

Someone—something—unfamiliar, tortured stares back.

But it’s not my Reed.

It hits me then, why the soul-shades turn grey despite the person being alive. Their souls are long gone, and something unnatural has taken their place, something driven forward by one thing: violence.

“I’m taking you with me, Tasia,” Reed says as he steps forward, reaching for my throat again.

I duck under his hand, but he must have anticipated the move because he’s ready for me. He wraps his hands around my still-sore windpipe again.

This time, his grip is unrelenting. He means what he said.

He is going to kill me.

I flail and fight, kicking him with every bit of power in my body. But slowly, the room around me begins to fade out. The fight leaves my body, and my limbs fall limp at my sides.

The front door crashes open, slamming into the wall so hard it cracks the drywall.

A black blur flies through the living room, clearing the counter and landing on Reed.

Scathe!

The pressure on my throat is released as Reed is swept away from me. He and Scathe collapse into the fridge. A scream rings out as the dog sinks his teeth into Reed’s arm.

Still not having enough room to go around them, I pull myself up onto the counter. My body is weak, exhausted. Before I can crawl across to the other side, into the living room, strong arms scoop me up.

Archer cradles me to his chest. “I got you, baby.”

He carries me to the couch, setting me down gently. I gasp, still trying desperately to catch my breath. My violated throat throbs with pain.

Reed’s cries die out. Scathe rounds the counter and pads toward us, blood matted around the fur on his mouth.

“Is he…” I can’t bring myself to say the next word.

Archer winces. “Not yet.”

It really was the dreamdust after all. Reed is dying.

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing this all to be an awful nightmare.

“Tasia,” Archer murmurs. He holds my chin gently in his fingers, angling my head to inspect me. “Your cheek…” His gaze roams me desperately. The muscles in his jaw become tense. He barely moves his mouth when he growls, “Your throat.”

Reed must’ve left a mark. With the way it aches, I’m not surprised.

“He hurt you.” Archer’s face darkens. His fingers gently ghost over the tender skin, without actually making contact. “He hurt you.”

Fury blazes in his golden eyes. They flicker, and his pupils dilate, darkening his irises. It’s the only warning I get before his face begins to transform before me.

Unblinkingly, I stare as Archer lets out a guttural roar. His familiar face morphs into a frightening mask of pale skin stretched over bone and tendon. His cheeks hollow out, and his mouth stretches into an impossibly wide hole, gaping at me. Hungry for something. I shove myself backward.

Gone is the handsome, tanned face I’m familiar with. Gone is the man I’ve started to fall for.

In his place is a thing of nightmares. Haunting. Otherworldly.

A horrible noise erupts from the gaping hole that used to be his mouth. Then he bursts into action, springing up from the floor and moving into the kitchen with inhuman speed.

As if connected by an invisible tether, I jump up from the couch, trembling as I move closer to see what’s happening.

I should run.

But my morbid curiosity and terror are holding me prisoner.

Archer, who is now hovering above Reed, begins to inhale audibly, his chest expanding with the breath. The grey fog surrounding Reed’s unconscious form wavers before wafting upward, like a snake being summoned by a flute.

All the blood drains from my face.

Archer sucks up the remnants of Reed’s soul, absorbing it into his own body.

No.

It can’t be.

Archer can’t be the Reaper. I’ve seen them both at the same time, in the same place.

But…he’s not unlike the Reaper either.

The tether holding me in place seems to snap then, and I shake myself from the daze. Adrenaline fuels me as I bolt from the apartment. Scathe whines, chasing after me, but he doesn’t attack me. He keeps pace with me, as if watching over me.

I have nowhere to go.

No one else to look out for me.

I’m a dead woman running through the city.

Without stopping to think, I head toward the only other place I know to go.