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18

Bianaca

When we landed, we were no longer in the infinite darkness.

Instead, we appeared to be in my living room, of all places, directly in front of the glass coffee table.

The room was exactly how I remembered it, with a floral sofa resting side by side with a gray armchair, a glass coffee table, and a flatscreen television mounted to the wall. The armchair had a Steve-sized hole in the cushion, since the asshole did nothing except drink alcohol and watch football. Over a dozen clocks hung on the peach-colored walls, each a different size. Some were large and bright red, while others were small and wooden. Mom used to collect clocks back when my dad was still alive, but his death crushed her spirit. She still possessed her collection, but she no longer added to it, content to live her life as an empty shell.

“What the…” I trailed off as my gaze latched on to Heath. He stood against the far wall, his arms crossed over his muscular chest as above us, a cuckoo clock chimed. He no longer wore the robe from before and the scythe was nowhere to be seen, but the memory of what I’d seen had been indelibly tattooed onto the backs of my eyelids.

“You…!” My voice shook with betrayal and accusation.

Unlike me, Heath appeared almost nonchalant, his expression decidedly placid, but I couldn’t help but believe it was almost too modulated, as if he was consciously remembering to breathe in and out. He wore his stoicism like armor, but right now, that armor was crumbling, one piece at a time.

“You have questions.”

“You’re damn right I do!” I screamed. “Where’s Tanner? Oh god. We need to go back. We need to—”

“Relax.” Heath took a step forward, and I automatically took one backwards. His shrewd gaze dropped to my feet, his brows furrowing, before he sighed heavily and returned to his position against the wall. “I got Tanner out of there before I was able to find you.”

Hope wormed its way into my heart, inflating it until I thought it would burst. “Tanner…Tanner’s all right?” I whispered, not daring to even breathe.

Heath wets his parted lips with his tongue before nodding once. It was a curt nod, the barest dip of his chin, but warmth blossomed in my stomach like a butterfly escaping its cocoon.

“And the others?”

“They’re here,” he answered simply. “You just can’t see them yet.”

I swallowed as the nerves I’d felt earlier came back full force. “Because of you.” It wasn’t a question, yet my voice still trembled. “You did something, didn’t you?” I wrapped my arms around my waist, almost as if I could ward off the chill I knew his answer would bring.

“I did.” His chin dipped once more in a semblance of a nod, though his eyes were flinty chips of stone in his handsome face.

“Because you’re a reaper.” The words hung between us, stagnant and heavy. When he didn’t immediately refute the claim, I knew in my heart that what I’d said was the truth.

Heath had been a reaper this entire time.

I didn’t know why I was so surprised. It wasn’t like this was some massive plot twist. A part of me had always distrusted the striking, smiling man standing before me. Our trip through Purgatory had inexorably connected us, but that connection didn’t equate to trust. Heath wore his secrets the way Aiden wore his anger. I had to wonder if he ever grew tired of all the lies and deceit, of all the secrets pilling on top of him.

Heath glanced up at me through his fringe of dark lashes. “It’s not what it seems.”

“It seems…” My lips curled away from my teeth in a snarl. “It seems as if you lied to us this entire fucking time.”

“I saved your life.” Heath pushed himself off the wall but didn’t take a step closer.

His words were like a cold slime coursing down my arms and legs, tickling the back of my neck. I knew he wasn’t just talking about Dylan, but…

I shoved all thoughts of my step-brother aside, even as my body continued to tremble and shake. My breathing turned uneven, sawing in and out, and I struggled to get it under control.

He’s gone for good now, Bianaca.

He won’t hurt you again.

Heath waited until I got my emotions under control, not saying a single word. I couldn’t quite read the expression on his face, and that terrified me. Heath was an enigma, and just then, I couldn’t tell what team he was on.

“Why did you help me?” My voice was nothing but a whisper, though it broke through the silence as if I’d been screaming.

If what Heath had said about reapers was true, they worked for Death himself, guiding poor souls to their ultimate demise. All of the professors at Tory’s School for Troubled were reapers, choosing to wear masks so they didn’t become attached to the students.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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