CHAPTER1
CASSANDRA
The fog is thick, like a wool blanket. I blink, trying to see through it, but for what feels like hundreds of heartbeats, there is nothing but the fog. The fog and my feet, trudging forward, unstoppable,as if my body had been ordered to walk and never halt. It’s the strangest feeling. Being in your body and unable to control or understand it.
Where am I? What happened?
The fog thins out until I glimpse a wide field stretched out in front of me. A huge, gray field with the silhouette of hundreds of people scattered across. The closest figure turns around and looks straight at me. My brain is so muddled,it’s hard to think. The figure stretches out an arm, motioning for me to walk closer. Not that I have any choice. My legs still move on their own accord.
My step is unrelenting as it brings me closer to the mysterious person. A girl my age, dressed head to toe in black. Black boots, black pants, black top. Her inky-black hair falls in a curtain behind her, all the way to her hips. What catches my eye, though, is her face. She’s not pale like me, who always spent too long cooped inside. She’s white like a sheet of paper. White like a skull. There’s no hint of redness to her lips or cheeks, and the sight is beyond unnerving.
“Welcome,” she says in a monotonevoice. “You’ll feel confused for a while. It’s normal.” She whirls away from me, her hair swishing behind her back. “Follow me.”
My feet do the job of obeying. The ground slopes down, becoming rocky and rough. I raise my eyes to the immense field ahead of me again. Darkness keeps me from understanding the silhouettes I see in the distance. What is this place? And why is everything so dark? I slide a glance at the girl taking the lead. Now that I pay attention to it, she looks like she’s walked out of a fifties TV show. As if she’s in black and white, orasif I’m inside an old movie.
The hold on my body releases. My feet stagger, and I have control over them once more. I keep following the mysterious girl because there’s nothing else I can do. I don’t know where I am or what I’m doing here. At least she didn’t sound threatening. I raise my hands, curious about her lack of color, and a gasp escapes my lips. My skin is as white as hers, but that’s not what surprises me the most.
The bracelets are gone. And they’re not the only thing that disappeared.
My tattoos are gone. My hands are perfect and unblemished, the exact hands I had weeks ago before everything started. Before... I narrow my eyes, the memories trickling back. A migraine pulses between my brows. Before...?
With a burst, the memories come back, water flooding past cracks, breaking through walls. Giulia and the portal stones, the Little Palace, the Collector. Our fight. My bracelets going off. Blood, so much blood.
Holy shit. It can’t be. My throat rasps, and I open and close my mouth a couple of times before I’m able to speak again. “Am I dead?” I murmur.
The girl walking in front of me stops and throws a dubious look over her shoulder. “That was fast. Mortals usually take longer than that.”
I blink at her, letting my hands fall to my sides. “Is that a yes?”
She smiles. “Yeah. You’re dead. Dead and gone. The last adventure.”
My head hurts. I press my knuckles to my temple, then meet her eyes again. “Shit...” What else am I supposed to say?
She smiles softly at my confusion. “It’s the place every mortal eventually goes, no matter how powerful.”
“I know, but...” And I shake my head, trying to dispel the confusion. “But I can’t be dead. My mates. They need me.”
The girl twists her lips. “I’m sorry, Cassandra Blake. Death isn’t supposed to be fair. It’s just a part of the natural cycle.”
“You don’t understand.” And I approach her, my pulse racing in my ears. How odd it is that I have a pulse. Yet, it flutters, making me light-headed with nerves. “We were facing the Collector, and there’s also Kayn out there. We weren’t done. My mates are in danger.”
She raises a hand to stop me. “I’m a reaper.” She presses the hand to her chest. “And I can promise you I’ve heard all sorts of stories through my years. Mates left behind. Young children. Dreams about to come true. Duties.” She opens that same reassuring smile that still feels stiff and professional. “Death doesn’t care. It just happens. The ones who stayedbehind will find a way to move on.” And she turns to face forward again, motioning for me with a hand. “Come on. I’ll take you to your final resting place. Mortals always give up on going back after they see what’s expecting them.”
I chew on my lower lip. “So, going back is an option?” I don’t know much about anything, and after learning about the supernatural world, I would not be surprised to find out that going back is a possibility.
But the Reaper shoots me an amused glance. “Of course not. That’s why reapers exist.” And she points behind me to the place where we came from. I stop and look over my shoulder at it.
The fog I crossed is entirely otherworldly now that I left it behind. It’s not a wall, but more of a hurricane, spinning on the same spot, reaching toward the heavens. Not that there are heavens. I crane my neck to look up, but there’s only darkness wherever I look. The surrounding place is black and white and the hues in between, but the fog is something else. The hurricane swirls in a mass of greens and golden, bursting with purple and yellow lightning. No sound comes from it, but the monstrosity of color in that blackness makes my stomach plummet. It’s beautiful and terrifying. Several other figures stand at the edges, perhaps reapers guiding others like me.
Okay. Okay. I take a deep breath, focusing on the reaper leading me away. So,I’m dead. The Collector blew up my hands and I bled to death. Amazing way to go. I wonder if he’s here. I wonder if I could punch the Collector if I could find him. Anyway. I have to find my way back to the others. Gods, I can’t imagine what they’re feeling. Seeing me die like that, unable to do anything to prevent it. The pain, the grief they must be feeling.
Going back now is not an option. Not with this reaper following me so closely. I need to ditch her. Let her take me wherever she’s taking me, then find my way back here. Sneaking in the shadows, avoiding detection. Maybe then I’ll manage to get into the fog again and appear on the other side... As a ghost? It’s not like my body would take me back again.
My head hurts. I should stop thinking for now. The whole transition from woman to spirit was a bit too much.
“Why is everything black and white,anyway?” I ask the reaper, searching for any hint of color in the landscape. The only one I see is in the hurricane of fog behind us.
The reaper lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “Beats me. It’s just this part of the Underworld, though. Like a waiting room. Maybe because it’s an adaptation before the souls move to their resting place?” And another shrug. I wonder how long she’s been working as a reaper. Is she as old as Donatello? Older?