Cyn forced herself to let go of Thirteen as soon as her feet touched the ground. It was good that the kiss didn’t mean anything to him. That meant they could skip the awkward do-you-or-don’t-you-have-feelings-for-me part.
They went inside the house, and he went straight to the coffeemaker. “Wouldn’t some whiskey be better?” Cyn suggested.
“Maybe later.”
Although she would have preferred a shot of Jack to warm her up, she had to admit, some fresh coffee sounded good. “Irish coffee?”
“I’m not Irish.” He ground up some coffee beans, and Cyn sat down at the table.
“Speaking of not being Irish. What exactly are you? You said you have a demon side, but why the wings? And why are they black?”
“I’m half demon, half angel.”
Cyn felt her eyes go wide. “You . . . are? Part angel? Seriously?”
The coffee started percolating, and he joined her at the table. “My father was a demon, my mother was an angel. I don’t know why my wings are black instead of white. They just are.”
“Is that what a Revenant is—half angel, half demon?”
“No. I’m the only one like me.”
“But there are other Revenants out there? Just not like you?”
“The other Revenants are reapers. When the earth was first formed, there were originally six teams to help with reaping human souls. Each team was made up of one angel and one demon. To make sure heaven and hell were equally represented.”
“Originally?”
The coffeemaker beeped, and he stood up. “Over time, humans started multiplying like rabbits, and the six teams of reapers weren’t enough. So they started working exclusively with Shades. Shades are the only humans allowed to stay on earth after they’ve died. They’re keepers of sacred burial grounds, cemeteries, sanctuaries.”
He pulled down two mugs from the cabinet and poured steaming black liquid into each one. “Shades have to find their other half during their lifetime in order to do their job as guardians. After they find their partner, Revenants help them cross over after death to become these gatekeepers.”
Cyn reached for her cup, shrugging away his offer of milk and sugar, and wrapped her hands around it. “But you said ‘originally.’ Does that mean there are more than six teams of Revenants now? Are there different Revenants?”
“When the original teams got tired of doing their job, they recruited Shades to take their place. So there are more than six teams of Revenants now, but none of them are the original angels and demons.”
“And you were never part of these teams. That’s why you’re Thirteen. You were the odd one out.”
His grip tightened on the handle of his cup. “I was just a mistake made when a demon seduced an angel. Two Revenants fucked up, and I was the end result.”
“So that makes you . . .”
“Very old.”
“Wow.” Cyn took a sip of her coffee. Then she said, “So why don’t you do the Revenant job too? Help these Shades cross over?”
“I stay out of their way, and they stay out of mine. To say there’s no love lost between me and the other Revenants would be an understatement.”
“Why?”
“Because they don’t like that I do my own thing. But if they’re not going to neuter the vamps, tramps, and demons that are out there, then I will. Someone has to.”
“So you hunt monsters? Judge, jury, and executioner style?”
“You could say that.”
“Anything that’s supernatural you just . . . get rid of?”
“Not everything. I make exceptions.”
“I guess that’s why you wear black all the time, then.” She grinned at him. “To match your soul.”
“I wear black because it hides bloodstains better.”
“Ah, I should have known.” Cyn went to set her cup down on the table, but it slipped out of her hands.
Thirteen caught it before it fell.
“Thanks.” She glanced down at his outstretched arm. It was the one covered in ink. A small “13” was tattooed near his wrist. The word treize was above it, tredici below it. Other words and symbols crisscrossed his arm: Tretten, dreizehn, tizenhárom, treisprezece, treze . . .
“Do these all mean ‘thirteen’?” Cyn asked. She knew some French and Italian from the eight high schools she’d bounced around between while her mom chased boyfriends.
He nodded. “One for every language that I know.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she looked at his completely covered arm again. “I know a lot of languages.”
Cyn snorted and took the coffee cup back from him. Standing, she took it over to the sink and rinsed it out. “So, since you know so much about languages and Revenants, do you know anything else about Echos? More specifically, what I have to look forward to? Is it just going to be one soul popping in after another and frequent blackouts for the rest of my life?”
She turned to face him. “Declan said something to me about following me the night I went to the gas station and seeing the gun. He said I had it to my temple. Like I was going to pull the trigger. Did you know about that? Did you see that in my memories when you read me?”
He gave her a hard look. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.”
“Oh, I want to know. Believe me, I want to know. So, is that a yes? Do I have a death wish or something? Did I try to commit suicide?”
“It was the soul inside you. He wants out.”
“He? Do you know who it is?”
“His name is Grifyth, but he likes to call himself Vincent now.”
Something twitched in the back of Cyn’s brain, and she tried to place it. “I know that name,” she mumbled. “I know that name from somewhere. I know that name. . . .”
“He said a Shade crossover in Sleepy Hollow went wrong, and that’s when he found himself inside you.”
Sleepy Hollow. Where my fucked-up memories include a bridge and a dead girl named Abbey. “How do you know all of this?”
“He told me.”
Cyn almost dropped her cup. “He told you?” Her voice rose. “When was this? And why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“It happened when you blacked out in the kitchen. And I’m telling you now.”
She glared at him. “So you’ve known all along who this soul inside of me is and that he wants to escape so badly, he’s willing to get rid of me to do it, yet you figured you’d just wait until now to tell me.”
He shrugged.
“Why does he want out?”
“Because no Echo has ever been able to withstand more than seven souls passing through them. It’s too hard on the mortal body. You’ve had four souls inside you. He’s number five.”
“Seven? And I’m already on number five?” Cyn started to pace. “What can we do? I don’t want him to just keep taking over and making me try to hurt myself.”
He was quiet for a moment, and Cyn felt her desperation growing. Finally, he said, “There is one thing I could try. But it involves going back to the last place he was corporeal.”
Cyn bit her lip. Go back to Sleepy Hollow? Where the cops might still be looking for me? I could end up in jail. . . . Then again, if I don’t at least try, I’ll be stuck with him until the next soul comes along. Or until he finally manages to finish the job. . . .
“What would you have to do?”