Cinder (20 page)

“Yeah, you’re right,” he mutters, turning around in his seat and tilting his head to check out the side window. “Just drive up on the grass.”

“You want me to hot rod it over the front lawn?” I question, eyeballing down the perfect path just between the house and the edge of the group.

He places the book on his lap and puts a hand on top of it like he’s afraid to let it go. “If you don’t feel comfortable enough doing it, I can trade places with you.”

I tap the gas pedal, giving it a little throttle. “No, I’m good. In fact, I’m sort of looking forward to doing it.”

His pierced brow shoots up as his head whips in my direction. “I’m a little surprised you’re not slightly afraid, considering you crashed your car into a lake.”

I pump the gas a few more times and the car starts to inch down the driveway. “My dad loved working on cars,” I say. “And hot rodding them.” I crane the wheel. “He actually used to steal them with me in the car.”

“Seriously?” Asher gapes at me.

I give a little shrug. “As embarrassing as it is, it was sort of like a father/daughter bonding thing.”

I rotate the wheel in the other direction when the back end reaches the people. They don’t even move out of my way. Then, pressing on the gas, the tires squeal as the car lurches forward. I burn rubber; the tires tear up the grass, splattering mud and rain all over the windows. I have to flip the wipers on from the sheer magnitude of debris that suddenly covers the windshield.

I’m enjoying myself a little bit as I pull away from my house, not too surprised that I’m sort of relieved to be leaving the stillness of it behind. Then I spot someone in the crowd that makes me slam on the brakes. The car lurches to a stop and my hands start to shake as I stare at my mom standing just to the side of the car in the midst of the horde of people. She’s dressed in old jeans and an overly large t-shirt, her hair pulled back in a messy bun and her skin bare of makeup, looking pale. There’s no doubt it’s her, though.

“Mom,” I whisper and my foot that’s holding down the brake starts to tremble, causing the car to roll forward again. I quickly reach over and shove it into park then take my foot off the brake.

Asher tracks my gaze to her standing in the crowd. “That’s your mom?”

I slowly nod, my fingers fumbling to find the buckle of the seatbelt. “Yeah, but what’s she doing out there with them…” I trail off as the buckle unclicks and then suddenly, I’m moving in fast motion, reaching for the door handle, ready to jump out.

“Ember, wait.” Asher snags my arm and stops me. “Don’t get out.”

I jerk my arm, but he doesn’t let go. “Asher, let me go. It’s my mom out there…” I look at her through the windshield and she’s looking at me, her expression not numb like the rest of them, however it is horribly morose. “Please, I need to see her, to see if she’s okay.”

My mom lifts her hand and waves, though there’s something robotic about her movements, something about it shatters me inside. Then she places her hand on the base of her neck and that’s when I see the marks. Or more like wounds that look like they were inflicted by a knife or a rope. There’s also an X on her forehead. When I realize what that means, I start to freak out, pushing and shoving at Asher to let me go, but he keeps holding onto me with unbreakable strength. I hear him say something, but I’m veering towards shock because it looks like my mom is dead.

“Asher, let me go. Please!” I start to cry, hysterically sobbing as he pulls me against him with the console between us. Mascara is running down my cheeks. “Oh, my God, she’s dead… Please tell me she’s not dead.”

Asher doesn’t respond and I lose it, tears cascading out of my eyes. These last couple of days she’s been missing and I’ve been walking around, thinking she was out on the streets somewhere, but the entire time, she’s been dead.

God, no.

My shoulders heave with each sob as I continue to cry, losing touch with reality, drifting into a state of devastation as I stare out the window at her. The people start to close in on the car, narrowing the space around us, taking the upper hand. Then through the rain, shadows appear, flying and soaring around the car. They look just like the ones I saw in my room; wisps of darkness that gracefully soar. Asher starts to curse when he spots them and it feels like I should be terrified, but the pain of my mother overrides it and all I feel is sorrow.

I can’t take it anymore.

I can’t breathe.

I need to help her.

With more strength than I thought I possessed, I shove Asher away from me. He startles back, his back hitting the door. I seize the opportunity to hop out of the car. Rain slams against my skin, like icy needles, and I shield my eyes, searching for my mom. I find her standing just at the front of the car, a neutral expression on her face.

“Ember, get in the car,” Asher orders as he jumps out of the other side. He looks at me from over the roof, blinking fiercely against the rain. “I’m sorry this happened, but you have to remember that she isn’t really your mom anymore.”

I look at him and then my mother, torn on what to do. I want to go to her, but at the same time, I know Asher’s right. I know that’s not really her, just what’s left of her.

God, I can’t believe she’s dead.

I tell myself I can do this and start to turn back to the open door of the car. Asher seems relieved, lowering his head to get back in, but then my mom calls out my name and I freeze.

“Ember, help me,” she says. When I look at her, the vacancy in her eyes has dwindled and she resembles the same mom I saw right before I took her life. Helpless. Lost. Possessed. Under no control of her own. “Please, don’t let me go like this,” she begs.

I run to her, unable to control myself, unable to admit that this is her ghost and not her. Asher shouts out my name, but I don’t care. My feet hammer against the ground and raindrops sting at my skin. As I get closer, the mob surrounds her, packing their bodies tighter together, like their trying to block me from getting to her. I shove each one out of the way, feeling their death course through me, all of them the same.
Blackness. Pain. Good-bye. Please don’t leave me. I can’t. Everything hurts. Capes and feathers showering from the sky. All over the town. Blood filling the streets that are filled with bodies. So many bodies. So many deaths. Thousands.
I can feel them pouring through me like a river of needles.
One Reaper stands in the middle of it feasting off the souls of the bodies, growing more powerful. Broad shoulders, blonde hair, a scraggily jawline, he stands tall in the center of the blood, craving more souls. More power. More control over the town he runs.

I can’t stay on my feet as the death replays in my head. I stretch my hand out to my mother, wanting her to reach me as the people bump and touch me from all sides. She just gazes at me, though, sort of the same way she looked at me when I killed my grandmother, like she hates me. Fears me. Wants to disown me.

“You know, I always knew you were going to be trouble,” she says as I’m lurched around, glowing eyes everywhere, smothering me as the rain slams down against my skin. “The moment I found out I was pregnant I was disgusted. I saw what being a Grim Angel made your grandfather. A monster; the same thing it made your father, crazy and killing innocent people. No wonder you’re alone in the world. No one can stand you. The messed up girl that can see death.” Each one of her words hits me like razors under my skin, the pain wanting to escape, but it’s stuck inside. “No wonder I didn’t come home. I’d rather rot in a ditch somewhere than be near you.”

Her words strangle me as though they’re invisible fingers wrapping around my neck. It hurts, but at the same time, I can’t entirely feel the hurt because it’s mixing with the horrid images of the entire town’s death as the mayor stands in the middle of it all.

I can’t breathe. Think. See. I go down. Hard. My knees sinking into the dirt. Legs slam into me. Feet stomp on me. Elbows jab me in the head. Something stabs at my neck, trying to tear off my necklace, but I smack them away.

“Help me,” I whisper, but I’m not even sure I know who I’m speaking to. Someone hears me, though, because I’m abruptly swept up into a pair of very strong arms and cradled against a very sturdy chest.

I think its Asher, but when I look up, I swear I see gleaming eyes beneath a hood and a speck of blonde hair peeking out. I must be hallucinating because Cameron would never help me like this. Moments later, I feel myself being carried away while the feeling of death diminishes with each step. I shut my eyes and let the fall of rain wash away my internal agony, let the quiet seep into my unsettled heart.

“What are you doing here?” Asher asks, but I’m not sure who he’s talking to.

“Saving your ass.” It sounds like Cameron, but again, that can’t be possible. He would never help me nor would he speak to Asher in such a way.

“Give her to me,” Asher says coldly. There’s a pause and then I feel myself being transferred into the arms of another.

I open my mouth to protest, but the feeling of the death omen has worn me out, drained me passed the point of being able to open my eyes. Footsteps thud against the ground and warm lips brush against my head. I hear a door open and then feel myself being lowered into the car. I think they’re going to set me down, though instead they climb in, still holding me. A door slams. Then another. The feel of rain leaves my body and warm air kisses my skin, yet I still feel unbelievably cold inside, like ice has surrounded my bruised heart and soul.

Banging starts to fill up the air around me and the cab of the car gets darker and darker as it begins to vibrate. I clutch onto Asher, feeling his heart thrashing inside his chest. Somehow, through my numbness, I start to cry; tears shed in an attempt to try and alleviate some of the agonizing pressure wearing a hole in my heart.

“It’ll be okay,” Asher whispers in my ear as he pulls me closer to him.

More tears fall. More pain stabs within me, splits me open, and I’m not even sure if it’s from seeing the death of the town or if it stems from my mother’s cold words. Or maybe it’s because she’s dead and that’s the last thing she’ll ever say to me.

“Please, try to relax,” Asher utters, smoothing his hand over my wet hair. “I know it’s hard, but I’m here with you. You’re not alone.”

The feel of the heat of his body and knowing he’s here with me calms me down enough that I don’t want to move, crying tear after tear, telling myself that wasn’t her out there. That it was the Anamotti’s words. However it’s hard to convince myself when she’d said stuff to me like that when she was alive.

Still, wanting to be stronger, I eventually stop crying. I clutch onto the front of Asher’s shirt with my eyes closed, breathing in and out as I focus on that instead of everything else going on, yet still, the ache slips through.

“It hurts,” I whisper as Asher rubs my back.

“I know,” he replies, his voice hoarse as he places another kiss on my head. “Just try to breathe.”

I want to tell him that even breathing seems hard, but then I realize that the car is moving and that, unless Asher is holding me while he’s driving, someone else is in the car with us. I already think I know who it is; the person that pulled me out of the crowd.

Cameron.

What I don’t get is why. Why he tried to help me. Why Asher’s letting him help me. It takes a lot of energy to lift my head, but I manage to do so, and then my swollen eyes snap wide. Cameron’s in the driver’s seat, grasping the wheel as he speeds the car down the street of our neighborhood, which is lined with people. All the while, Asher seems perfectly content with it.

“What’s going on?” I mutter, instantly slammed with a spout of exhaustion, my head bobbing around like a bobble head.

“Get out of the car, Cameron.” I hear Asher say, but I can’t see him or anything, my eyelids lowering of their own accord.

“You seriously want me to stop? In the middle of this?” he asks. “They’ll end her if I do. Now that they’ve gotten her whole family to give into the Reaper side, they’re going to torture her until she breaks. And you know as well as I do that right now she’s going to break very easily.”