Death Collectors: Ember Part 15

Is he asking what I think he is? My eyes travel to Raven's second-floor bedroom window. The light is on and I can almost hear her voice: Do it, do it, do it!

"You want to come in?" I involuntarily glance at his l.u.s.trous lips.

He nods slowly, his compelling gaze penetrating me. "At least until someone comes home-you shouldn't be here alone."

I look back at my house. "Let me just run in and check first. My brother might be here."

He smiles and releases me. I run inside and flick on the light. "Well, the power's back on." I check in the living room, half expecting to find the Grim Reaper waiting for me. But it's empty and the house is quiet. So is my mom's bedroom, Ian's room, his studio. I trot back downstairs and wave Asher inside.

He climbs out of the car and strolls up the sidewalk. He watches me with every step and I realize how happy I am he's staying. If he wasn't, I'd probably wake up in a few hours, dripping with the sweat of death. I'd grab my notebook and go to the cemetery, where I'd jot notes about loneliness and pain. Asher has the ability to distract me from death.

I shut the door behind him and he scales up my house. There are photos of me as a baby hanging on the foyer wall. Some I'm with Raven, some I'm with Ian. There are even a few I'm with my mom and dad, back when life was all rainbows and suns.h.i.+ne, or at least when I believed it was. But life was just waiting for me to pa.s.s it.

"You look like your dad." He squints at a photo of me as a two-year-old sitting on my dad's lap. My mom is leaning over his shoulder whispering something in his ear. Ian is in the back, swinging plastic nunchucks at an inflatable Santa Clause. There is a Christmas tree in the background, flas.h.i.+ng with red twinkling lights. The picture's candid, and we look happy.

I want the moment back.

I head for the stairs and Asher follows. I'm aware of everything as we ascend the staircase; the movement of his body, the slightest elevation in temperature, the rhythm of his heart.

I open my bedroom door and he glances at the drawings on the wall, the poems, the pictures of the dead poets. He gives a lengthy gaze at the Reaper and then at the angel on the wall across from it, before he focuses on a picture of Edgar Allan Poe tacked to the closet doorframe.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you have a crush on him," he says with a drop of amus.e.m.e.nt. "But then again, I really don't know you." He faces me with a smile tickling his lips. "So is this my compet.i.tion?"

"I'm not in love with him," I reply, picking up the raven feather off my dresser. Weird. I thought I put this away. "I'm in love with his work."

"I remember from the party. You practically fell into my arms when I quoted the only line I know of his poetry." He teases me with a smug smile.

I narrow my eyes and try not to smile. "So you were playing me."

He shrugs, still grinning, and takes the feather from my hands. He spins it in-between his fingers and his eyebrows furrow as he stares at the feather. "Is this a raven's feather?"

"Yeah, why?"

He shakes his head and hands the feather back to me. "Where'd you get it?"

"From the ceme-the park." I set the feather on my dresser, wondering what an angel feather would look like. "They're a pretty common bird."

The seriousness in his face fades into mischievousness. "I was just wondering how hard you went looking for it-how deep your obsession is with Edgar Allan Poe."

"Ha, ha," I say sarcastically, giving him a playful shove. He traps my hand against his chest and the mood takes an impulsive s.h.i.+ft. "Am I allowed to kiss you in here?"

"No one's home," I say. "You can do whatever you want."

"Can I?" He steers me to him. Our lips and bodies collide and liquefy with l.u.s.t.

We fall onto my bed with our bodies entangled. My heart races with rapture and my skin flames with a burning need. He rolls us over, so he's on top of me, and his tongue ring inspects every single inch inside my mouth. My legs snake around his waist and he lets out a low growl as he sucks at my bottom lip. He traces kisses down my neck and my breath hitches. I slant my head back as his lips trail lower and lower. But my mind panics with self-doubting thoughts, not about Asher, but about myself, and I pull back.

He doesn't look mad or angry. In fact, he looks grateful. "Why don't we lie down?" He gently kisses my cheek and I s.h.i.+ver. "And I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

"Let me go change into my pajamas first," I say, only to allow myself time to cool down.

He rolls off me and I climb off the bed, ignoring the thunder of my heart. I grab some pajamas out of the dresser and duck into the closet.

"You know that curtain is pretty thin," he says, humor hinting his tone. My iPod flips on and the sound of "Hands Down," by Dashboard Confessional drums through the room. I quickly slip on a tank top and a pair of plaid shorts. I unclasp my studded bracelets and drop them in the corner of the closet floor, right by the insane drawing of X's. I barely remember drawing it, like how I barely remember being rescued from drowning. Feathers all over his crime scene. I shut my eyes and try to summon more details. Dark water. My necklace floating away. The black ma.s.s-the Grim Reaper.

I open my eyes. Am I losing my mind just like my dad? Or is everything real, just confusing?

I return to the room in a miserable mood. Asher is lying on my bed reading a book with his boots kicked off and his jacket thrown on the floor. My smile breaks through, until I see what he's reading.

"Wait a minute... is that..." I reach for the book, but he rolls to his side, laughing as he reads a line from Raven's romance novel. "'And then he takes his hand and slides it onto my-'"

I hop on him and steal the book away. "This is not mine. It's Raven's." I chuck the book across the room and it lands in the garbage.

He laughs and situates his hands on my hips as I straddle him. "So you don't want me to slide my hand on you-"

I conceal my hand over his mouth and shake my head. I wait until he stops laughing and then I remove it. He situates on the bed and then steers me down beside him. I rest my head on his chest.

"So won't you kill me, so I die happy," Asher sings quietly along with the song in an angelic voice. "You should get some sleep." He plays with my hair. "I'll leave when you do. That way no one will walk in us."

"You don't have to worry about that," I yawn. "No one ever checks in on me..." I lift my head up. "Won't your mom worry about where you are? It's late."

He shakes his head. "She's gone for the weekend, back to New York to close up one of her... accounts."

I press my cheek against his chest and his heart skips against it. "Asher, why did you take off the other day? After you got Garrick away from me?"

"That's another question you may really want to think about and make sure you want me to answer it."

I deliberate. "I want to know."

He lets out an uneven breath. "Because if I didn't leave I would have chased Garrick down and killed him."

Perhaps I should have got up and ran, but the silence of his body is my sanctuary. "Why would you have killed him?"

"For a few reasons," he whispers. "One of them being because he tried to hurt you." He pauses. "Does that scare you?"

"Do you think it scares me?"

"No."

"Then you're right."

Stillness takes over, along with the sound of the music. Moments later, I drift off to one of the most peaceful nights of my existence.

Chapter 12.

I open my eyes to the warmth of Asher's arms wrapped around me. A rare smile graces my lips, and I'm glad he fell asleep and never left. The scent of freshly fallen rain and a bird's melody flows through my open bedroom window. I sit up and spot a raven suspended on a tree branch. Its black eyes watch me and I stick my arm out the window, trying to coax it closer.

"h.e.l.lo, little minion of death," I whisper with my eyes narrowed. "Why won't you leave me alone? Are you trying to tell me something about my death? Because I'm sorry to break it to you, but I already died and now it looks like there is no death in my future."

That's when I notice Cameron's Jeep parked in front of my house.

I glance down at Asher sleeping in my bed and then back at the Jeep, remembering the date with him. Carefully, I slip out from under his arm and sneak into the hall. I soundlessly close my door and walk to the top of the stairs.

Cameron and Ian are chatting in the foyer. Ian is telling him about this slammin' new art exhibit tonight in Jackson.

Cameron's ash black eyes instantly find me and a smile curves at his lips. "Good morning, princess."

Princess? I smooth my hair down and trot down the stairs. "What are you doing here?"

Cameron is dressed in black jeans, a grey Henley, and boots, with leather bands on his wrist. But with his blonde hair and tan skin, he looks more vintage than gothic. "I came to see you."

The beanie on Ian's head covers his eyebrows and his jeans are smudged with charcoal. He looks uncomfortable, standing next to Cameron, who's about six inches taller than him. "Well, I'll let you two chat or whatever." He raises his eyebrows at me and something in his eyes flash. He doesn't like Cameron. I find it odd because Ian usually is "all about the love."

"If you need anything, just holler." Ian heads upstairs and seconds later the door to his studio slams shut.

"I thought we weren't going out until later," I say quickly and run my fingers tensely through my hair. "And I was actually going to call you. Something came up and I don't think I'm going to be able to make it to the poetry slam tonight."

"Are you blowing me off?" His tone is clipped.

"No." I'm thrown off by his sullen att.i.tude. "I just had something come up... My mom needs my help with something."

"That's funny, because your brother just told me your mom's out of town." He sounds irritated.

"Did he..." I search for another excuse.

"Does this have anything to do with the owner of the GTO in your driveway?" he asks bluntly.

"Um..." I don't know what to say.

Thankfully, the front door swings open and Raven pops her head in. Her pink hair is fluffed up in the front and pulled up into a ponytail. Neon pink eyeliner frames her eyes and she's wearing a black dress trimmed with pink leather.

"Hey, chica," she chirps. "Thanks for letting Asher and I meet at your house. It totally sucks that my brother doesn't approve of him." She gives me a secret wink, then grabs my hand and says to Cameron, "Can you hold on, hun? I gotta borrow her for just a second."

Cameron motions at the stairway and smiles. "By all means go ahead. I can wait."

"Thank you, sweetie." Raven drags me up the stairs and stops once we're in the hall out of Cameron's sight. She slaps my arm. "You s.l.u.t. Please tell me he's still naked in your bed."

"What are you talking about?" I play dumb.

She rolls her eyes. "The hot s.e.xy guy who had his car parked in your driveway all night."

"I didn't sleep with him." I lower my voice. "Well, not in the way you're thinking. We just fell asleep in my bed."

She eyes me like a cop trying to break down a criminal. "So nothing happened at all?"

"We kissed," I say. "And that's all."

She frowns, disappointed. "Okay, well here's what we're going to do. I'm going to get Asher to agree to come with me and then Cameron won't ever have to know about this."

"But I don't think I want to go out with Cameron," I protest. "I really like Asher."

"So," she says baffled. "It's not like you're dating. You've been out with him once."

"And he saved me from drowning in the lake." I let it slip it out.

She slaps my arm again and I flinch from the spark of her death. "Why the h.e.l.l didn't you tell me?"

I rub my arm and shrug. "You were talking about how much you wanted him and I don't know..."

"You just kept your mouth shut, like you always do." She takes me by the shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes, as if her next words are the most important thing I will ever hear. "Look, Em, I love you so much and that's why I'm going to do you this favor. You're going to go out on a date with Cameron." I open my mouth to argue but she shushes me. "You owe it to yourself not to get serious with anyone yet. Serious relations.h.i.+ps mean things I don't think you're ready for."

The door of my bedroom opens up and Asher walks out, slipping on his jacket. He's got bed-head, but it's ridiculously s.e.xy. "So that went a little differently than I planned. I don't even remember falling asleep." He shoves up the sleeves of his jacket, ignoring Raven. "So I want to take you somewhere today, if that's okay."

I open my mouth to say yes, but Raven interposes. "Em's already got plans."

I glare at her and she fires one right back at me.

Asher looks at Raven. "With you?"

She aims a conniving look at him. "No, with Cameron. You know, the other new kid."

Asher scowls at her. "I know who he is."

"Good, then I don't have to stand here and explain it to you." She links arms with him. "You can hang out with me today."

She leads him toward the stairs and I'm surprised by how little of a fight Asher puts up. When Asher and Cameron see each other, the air chills. We all stand awkwardly in the foyer.

"Well, you two have fun," Raven singsongs, tugging Asher toward the door.

Asher won't meet my eyes. "I'll see you later, Ember," he says, like we're acquaintances.

I open my mouth to tell him to stay, but my lips are incompetent. The pair leaves and Asher takes my calm and peace from death along with him. I'm dumbstruck. Thoughts of the two of them making out infest my brain.

"So I thought we could spend the day at the lake," Cameron's voice intervenes my thoughts. There's something about his demeanor that's off today; the sadness and pain he so often carries has evaporated into an intimidating level of c.o.c.kiness.

"Yeah... I just need to change first." I withdraw toward the stairs, wis.h.i.+ng I'd never agreed to the date in the first place. Cameron can't touch me without driving me insane, so what's the point of doe-eyed looks and flirty conversation? That's not what I want.

What I want is Asher.

I hurry up to my room and throw on a pair of black shorts, knee-high sneakers, and a maroon top tied together with a ribbon. I clip on my bracelets, grab my leather jacket and meet Cameron downstairs. He's looking at the same baby photo as Asher did last night.