The sound of a body landing next to me a few minutes later told me Wren had spotted me from the sky. “I’ll just be a minute. Wait here.” He shoved my chest, backing me further into the trees. Maybe he could sense the urgency spilling through the tension in my shoulders—it was a strange thing, a draw similar to what I felt when the dying called me.
Or maybe it was simply the fact that in all the time we’d known each other, in the countless moments our paths had crossed… he’d never seen me act like I wantedanything.
Wren was in and out of the building in a rush of wings, and as soon as his feet hit the ground and I saw the vial of white shimmering liquid in his hand, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go back.
I was really doing this.
The hospital was only a few blocks from the hotel. When I told Wren where we were going, I watched the curiosity on his face deepen before I disappeared.
He met me on the roof of the hospital and followed me as I led him inside.
“What are we doing here, Sephtis?” His fingers wrapped around the vial of Ardor, drawing it close to his chest. Close to the pendant he’d slipped around his neck, half hidden by the dark button-up he wore.
“You’ll see.” It was the only answer I could give as I led him into Caiden’s room, letting my presence wash over him so no one saw either of us. As soon as we stepped through the door, his eyes widened and he paused. I kept moving, drawn back to thebedside. My fingers spilled forward almost helplessly to trace the frail line of Caiden’s hand.
I could stave off death for a short time, but I could still sense it lingering around him. What I was doing had already defied all nature. Why not one more sin?
“He’s dying.” I said it carefully, and Wren’s head tilted as he looked over the body on the bed before closing the door behind him.
“Obviously.”
“He…” I paused, my fingers drifting to his chest, to his heart still beating. “I need to understand him.”
I need to feel him.
I didn’t say that part aloud—it seemed too much, tantamount to insanity.
“Sephtis…” Wren twitched his fingers, and the vial in his hand shimmered in the low lighting of the room. “I don’t know if it’ll work on you. When we drink it… it mingles with our?—”
“Pull an arrow.” My voice was calm, even though his eyes widened again.
“What?”
“Pull an arrow, Wren.”
His expression was doubtful as he reached behind him, and an arrow manifested at the snap of his fingers. It twisted in a soft haze of white light.
It wasn’t an arrow that brought soulmates together… but it made sense, didn’t it? If I had a soul, it was stagnant in my chest. We were made from the essence of the dead, so maybe something close to a soul lingered beneath our skin, but…
“What’s that one for?” I asked in a hushed voice. Wren looked at the white mist and shook his head in confusion.
“I’ve never pulled an arrow like this.” But we could both see that it had the same shimmer as the Ardor in his hand. I’d heardit said that a cupid could only pull the arrow they needed. I’d thought maybe it would be an arrow of Fate… but this…
This was different.
And it seemed to be the arrow more than anything that made up his mind.
“He doesn’t have much time left.” It was as close as I would get to rushing him, and Wren blew out a slow breath, twisting the arrow in his fingers.
“I don’t know what this is going to do to you.” Wren’s voice was a warning.
“He’s already lingered longer than he should. I don’t know if Death will send another Reaper or the soul hounds soon, but I?—”
“Sephtis, I don’t know if this will kill you, if it will change you. I don’t know if it willwear off. Ardor is made for cupids, to be drunk bycupids.I…” He looked at the arrow in his hand, and I saw it there, lingering on the edge of his expression.
Concern.
Did Wrencareabout me? I hadn’t thought he cared for much other than the hunt and the kill. But maybe I’d been wrong about him.
