CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

logo

As Abbey and Caspian headed back to the cemetery, Cyn’s stomach tightened into knots. It was pitch black, and she could only see a couple of feet in front of her. She started pacing back and forth. God, I need a cigarette.

“So, what now?” she said. “Is it going to be like a séance? I’ve done those before.”

Joe sat his orange toolbox on the ground and started digging around in it.

“It’s not like a séance,” Thirteen said. “But you can sit down. It won’t take much longer.”

He sat down too, closing his eyes. A look of concentration came over his face, and the burn marks on his arms started rising to the surface. His horns started growing too.

“Hey,” Cyn said. She glanced over at Joe. He was pulling out some long-ass needles and a bunch of little glass bottles from the toolbox. A set of white jumper paddles were next. “What are those for? What are you going to do to me?”

Thirteen opened his eyes. They were red. “I’m going to restart the count.”

Comprehension suddenly dawned on her. “That means you have to end it first. Right?”

He didn’t answer.

“Which means . . . you have to kill me.”

“And bring you back,” Thirteen said. “That’s why I brought Joe. He’s an EMT.”

Cyn gave him a doubtful look.

“It’s the only way.”

So I’m going to die. But if I don’t do it, I’ll end up dying anyway. After the seventh soul has passed through me. Or after Vincent finally succeeds in getting rid of me.

Joe tested the paddles and then nodded at Avian. “All clear. We’re good to go.”

Thirteen stood up and walked over to Cyn. His hair was loose around his face, and he was dressed in black leather pants and a long black duster. He would have looked like an average biker if it wasn’t for the fully grown horns, red eyes, and scars covering his arms. It was only slightly terrifying to look at him as he stood over top of her.

“Ready?”

Cyn closed her eyes. This is it. You can do it. This is going to work, and everything will be fine. Once Vincent’s gone, you’ll be back to normal. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m ready.”

She opened her eyes again and he leaned over her, both hands outstretched.

“Wait!”

He pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

Cyn glanced over at Joe. “Can you give us a minute? We need to speak in private.”

Joe let out an aggravated sigh. “Seriously? Do you have any idea how late it is? I have to work tomorrow, and I need to—”

“Joe!” Thirteen growled.

“Fine, fine. I’ll be right over here.” He moved a couple of feet away and turned his back to them.

Cyn looked up at Thirteen. He deserves to know what you did to Father Montgomery. And if you don’t come out on the other side of this, then at least he can have some peace.

“I want you to know . . .” Her mouth went dry, and she had to try again. “I want you to know that in case this doesn’t work, I—I really like your wings. They’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.” She closed her eyes again and then opened them. “No. That’s not—”

Her voice died off, and he leaned closer. “What?” she heard him say.

But it sounded like he was far away, not right beside her. Darkness blurred the edges of her vision sharp and fast, and Cyn realized she was losing herself again. Vincent wanted out, and he wanted out now.

I have to tell him. What if I don’t get another chance?

Cyn cleared her throat. She was losing sound again. And were her eyes open or closed? It was too dark to tell.

All she knew was that right before Avian pressed his hands to her chest and filled her with a thousand volts of electricity, she finally got the chance to say, “I was the one who killed Father Montgomery, Avian.” She didn’t know why she called him by the name Father Montgomery had used, but it felt right. “I’m sorry.”