I hate it.
I don’t want to face anything waiting for me.
I want to crawl back into that bed and pass out.
But who cares what I want, right?
We make our way down the hall anyway.
Right before we reach the stairwell, Cassian helps me stand while Nathaniel dresses me up. He slips a navy hoodie over my head and then guides my limbs into black, shiny leggings. Then he kneels—actuallykneels—and slides navy socks onto my feet.
We head down the stairwell. Voices drift upward from below.
One of them is Talon’s, unmistakably shaken.
The others… higher. Younger. Multiple. Grim Reapers; you can hear it in the cadence. That soft echo of being half tethered to a world that doesn’t belong to them anymore.
“Can you walk now?” Nathaniel murmurs.
I nod.
I’m not sure I’m telling the truth.
I try anyway. The floor tilts. My knees buckle, and Cassian catches me with a muttered curse. His hands grip my hips, thumbs brushing dangerously close to places that are still wet from Nathaniel.
Nathaniel steps into the room first, shifting aside just enough for Cassian and me to appear behind him.
Three girls stand against the far wall.
All of them are way younger than me. One has long braids falling like ink-soaked ropes down her back. Another has a buzz cut and a jagged scar splitting her jaw. And the third… the third looks like she should be in a classroom somewhere, doodling hearts in the margins of her notes or something.
What the hell is this?
Overhead, perched on pipes and metal beams, are their ravens. Three dark little birds that look just like Pain used to, back in the day.
Talon paces the length of the room, one hand raking through his hair, the other flexing at his side. He looks like he’s about to crawl out of his own skin.
When we walk in, his gaze snaps to me, flicks to Cassian’s arm around my waist, then slams into Nathaniel.
“Thank God,” he breathes. “This is way too fucking much. I can’t do this.”
“Would you look at that?” one of the Grim Reapers says—the one with the buzz cut. “Someone’s having a breakdown.”
“Cry us a river, Talon,” the one with the braids says, flat.
“He needs his friends to take over,” the youngest supplies.
And goddamn, there’s venom in their voices that spooks me from the start. As much as I hated Rhea showing up and threatening me, she did seem to restrain her disdain compared to these three.
The first thing I register when I see them is a whole lot of unfiltered hate.
Most of it aimed at Talon, it seems.
“What’s the matter, Talon?” Buzz Cut drawls. “Talking to three dead girls is too much for you? Rhea says youlovetalking to Grim Reapers.”
“Apparently only if he can touch them,” Braids says.
The youngest tilts her head. “Aren’t you a manwhore?”
