Chapter 5
Iwas never good with a tough crowd. But this might be the toughest one yet.
“Is this a joke?” Cassian asks.
I think it’s rhetorical on his side. There’s nothing light or hopeful in his voice. Nothing that suggests he’s praying I’ll say, Yeah, just kidding, guys. The only thing we need to worry about is Nathaniel’s god-awful coffee. Gotta confirm it until it lands, I suppose.
“Unfortunately for all of us,” I say, “this is not one of my funny moments.”
And that’s when all hell breaks loose.
Talon throws his head back and laughs. Yeah, laughs.
Nathaniel stands from the couch and disappears down the hall, while Cassian fixes his gaze on a single spot on the floor, a vein pulsing at his temple.
His jaw works back and forth. I think I black out for a second because the shift is so sudden it’s overwhelming.
“Be fucking quiet, Talon,” Cassian says. “Shut the fuck up.”
Talon doesn’t. His laughter dies into a long, pained exhale, like he’s trying to push every ounce of humor out of his lungs before it poisons him.
“Yeah, I was prepared for a lot. But this? Yeah, no,” Talon says, dragging a hand down his face. “So what? You’re still here because there’s still a job to do, yeah? That’s it?”
He lowers his head and looks at me, that same kind of craziness in his eyes as the last time he lost it. But wait a damn minute… Why is this the thing he’s latching onto?
“I, uh… I don’t know,” I say slowly. “I had to tell you guys, right? And apparently I just can’t disappear before I get this done, so…”
His lips twitch, like he’s fighting the urge to laugh again, but the sound that comes out is closer to a scoff.
“Figures. You’re just Death’s little errand girl, aren’t you? Unbelievable.”
I don’t get it. I don’t know where this is coming from. I knew neither of them would be thrilled about the other wraiths, but this isn’t the reaction I expected. It’s not anger at the job, or even at me for telling them. It’s anger at the idea that I’d… accept it?
“What, do I have a choice?” I ask. “It’s my job, not some fucking volunteer program.”
“That’s not what this is about,” he says. Then he snorts, pushes up from his chair so fast it skids back a few inches, and leaves the room too.
I’m confused. Irritated. Pretty freaking sure I just got mistreated by him again.
“What the hell was that?” I mutter, mostly to myself.
Cassian doesn’t answer right away. He’s still in the same position—hands braced on his knees, head tipped down, eyes fixed on the floor. The muscle in his jaw won’t stop flexing, and the vein at his temple looks about one second from bursting.
“We all nearly died because of that fucking wraith,” he says finally. “You did die. For a whole day. And now you’re supposed to fight more of them?”
He lifts his head, and the look in his eyes tells me this is about more than just the job.
“Yeah, I know it’s not perfect, but Death told me—”
“Death can go fuck himself,” he snaps.
I blink. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Cass—”
“No.” He cuts me off, leaning back and pinning me with that stare that makes the air in the room feel thinner. “You think I’m just gonna sit here and nod while some smug, cosmic parasite decides you’re expendable? No. Fuck that. He doesn’t get to pull your strings like you’re—”
“Like I’m what?” My voice spikes before I can stop it.
He exhales hard, dragging both hands over his face, like he’s trying to wipe the words off his tongue. “Like you’re not yours. Like you don’t get to decide whether you burn yourself down for his little agenda.”
“I don’t get to decide!” I shout. “That’s the point. This isn’t optional.”
His mouth twitches somewhere between a grimace and a smile that’s too thin to mean anything good.
“Then we make it optional.”
I shake my head. “You can’t just—”
“Skye.” His voice drops, low enough it’s almost a warning. “I need you to hear me.”
I take a breath and let it out slowly.
“Everything we do here, Nathaniel, Tal and I, it’s because we hate injustice. I watched a psycho kill my sister right in front of me. I nearly died just watching it. And that’s when I realized there’s no divine power that gives a damn about punishment.”
His eyes lock on mine.
“I had to make it happen myself,” he continues. “And it wasn’t clean. It wasn’t noble. It was ugly and cruel—and exactly what he deserved. And no, it still wasn’t justice. But it was the closest thing to it. For Sabine. For my mother. For me. For every other girl he’d have done that to.”
He stands, crosses the room, and drops to his knees in front of me.
Before I know what’s happening, his hands find mine. My palms are slick with sweat, but he doesn’t flinch.
“I tainted myself a long time ago to do what’s right.
What needed to be done,” he says, and the way he says it makes my pulse spike.
“Nathaniel and Talon did too. We hate injustice, Skye. We hate it so much we forsook our lives to make things right, knowing there are powers out there, supernatural ones, far greater than us. We’re just human. ”
The room feels too small. Too close. I can smell the faint trace of his cologne.
“So now,” he continues, voice rougher, “I don’t give a damn if it’s Death, God, or the universe itself handing down the orders. If they’re unjust, and they are, toward you, I’ll burn that plan down. And if I can’t burn it, I’ll tear it apart with my teeth. Whatever the cost, I will make it right.”
Something in my chest twists. It’s like someone just wrung my heart out, and I don’t know whether to drop it or clutch it tighter.
“But you helped me with the first wraith…”
“Because that was better than letting it devour you. It was sudden. We had to act. More importantly, it appeared because we fucked up.” He squeezes my hands. “Now it’s different. It’s like you’ve become Death’s errand dog or something.”
I blink at him.
“He’s doing it to me because I let you guys use the Skystone. And before that, I let you save a girl who was supposed to die. I helped you break the rules.”
“Did you really?” he asks quietly. “Did you actually have a choice in any of that?”
I think about it. I did keep saying they couldn’t mess with the balance of life and death. And it’s true—I couldn’t have stopped them physically back then. I didn’t have a body. But I was still there. I didn’t use my Reaper powers against them.
“You’re just a soul, Skye,” Cassian says, shaking his head. “Like the rest of us. You were wronged. And you’ve been waiting five years to get revenge on your murderer while working as Death’s errand girl, day and night. Death owns you. And it’s not fair.”
The word owns lands heavier than it should. It slams right into the part of me that still remembers being shoved into the ground by my ex-husband’s hands, air and light ripped away in one choking rush.
“I’m not owned,” I say, but it comes out too fast. Too sharp.
Cassian tilts his head.
“You’re on his leash, Skye. You’ve been on it since the moment you woke up with that scythe.”
I pull my hands from his, the absence of his grip sudden and cold. “That leash saved your ass. And Talon’s. And Nathaniel’s. More than once.”
He exhales through his nose.
“I’m not saying you haven’t saved us,” he says. “I’m saying you shouldn’t have to die for him again. Not even once more.”
“I don’t have the luxury of walking away from this,” I snap. “And neither do you, by the way, because if I don’t deal with the next wraith coming, Death will come for you. He will annihilate you.”
His mouth hardens. “Then let him.”
For a second, I think I misheard him. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do. I’d rather it tear us apart than watch it break you piece by piece while that fucker sits back and calls it even.”
There’s no heat in his voice now. Just something raw, stripped down to bone. It makes me want to step closer and back away at the same time.
And that’s when Nathaniel walks back in, a fresh bruise blooming along his jaw and a look in his eyes that says he’s been listening for longer than I realized.
“Sorry to break it to you, Cass,” he says, gaze flicking between us, “but this might be beyond our reach anyway.” He touches his jaw, licks his lips, and drops onto the couch beside us. “I hate it as much as you do, but Death is literally above our level.”
Cassian doesn’t look at him. Doesn’t even blink.
Nathaniel’s gaze lingers on me.
“That said,” he adds, “I agree with Cassian. The whole system’s fucked. Initially, our goal was to punish the sinners the way they should be. But maybe we should set our sights on fixing the damn thing.”
Cassian finally lifts his head. Slow, like it costs him something.
“You think?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nathaniel waves a hand. “I know you said it before.”
I look between the two of them.
“He did?”
“Yeah.” Nathaniel stretches out, crossing his ankles. “Cass has been grumbling about burning the whole deck down since the day I suggested binding a Grim Reaper. Never sat right with him anyway. He just never said it in front of you.”
My eyebrows pull together. I’d always thought, in the early days, that Cassian saw me as a thing rather than a person. I never imagined it wouldn’t sit right with him to bind me to the three of them and use me to achieve their goals.
But fuck. Turns out Cassian was more noble than I ever gave him credit for.
His methods are brutal, but he’s still been drawing a line somewhere, and apparently, that line included me.
Well, honestly, it’s messing with my brain.
I let out a slow breath.
Then I glance at the bruise on Nathaniel’s jaw.
“What happened to you?”
Nathaniel’s fingers pause there.
“Talon.”
I blink. “Talon hit you?”
“I guess I was asking for it.”
Cassian finally looks up. “Why?”
“He didn’t explain.” Nathaniel leans back, resting one ankle over his knee. “But if I had to guess, he didn’t like what I said about his little outburst.”
I frown. “Which was?”
“That maybe Skye’s not the problem here.”
Fucking hell.
Once again—what the fuck is going on here?