“So you can see it?” he said with the same amount of surprise.
“Yeah,” I confirmed carefully. I didn’t know if that was good or bad.
“Stasia, that’s awesome! Do you know what that means?” I looked at him blankly, hoping he would enlighten me. “That will help you immensely in the Underworld.” He rubbed his chin, thoughtful.
“But won’t everyone in the Underworld emit the…smoke? And why don’t you have any?”
“Unfortunately, the ‘smoke’ that you’re seeing isn’t darkness,” he said slowly, taking my hand in his, “It’s evil.” Every hair on my body stood on end as my eyes widened. I was seeing…evil?
“You can sense it too, can’t you?” he asked. I nodded my head; still in shock.
“It’s definitely the monster-under-the-bed kind of darkness - I mean evil.” I corrected myself. I still couldn’t believe what I was saying, “So what about you? Can you sense it, too? Can you see it?”
He nodded. “That’s how I knew something was wrong. I sensed her arrival,” he explained, his voice drained.
“But, I’m not connected to the Underworld like you. Why can I see it and sense it?” And how do I shut it off?
“It goes along with that ‘other sense’ that all descendents have. However, yours is apparently extremely advanced…like mine.” His blue eyes smiled down at me with pride. “One of the perks of being a direct descendent.” If by “perks” he meant harrowing abominations. I couldn’t believe I had argued with someone who was literally dripping with evil. I was suddenly thankful that I didn’t know that critical piece of information at the time. I would have needed a change of shorts.
“So, what exactly does she do in her spare time besides pretend to be in high school and crash séances on remote islands?”
“She serves under Persephone right now, but I’ve heard that she’ll be the next leader of the Nymphs. I don’t know how much of that is true though.” He shrugged and wrapped his arms around me. That’s when I remembered what Bianca had called her. I looked up at Finn with alarm.
“Bianca, the ghost, called her ‘The Reaper’. What exactly does that mean?” I steeled myself for the answer. I had a feeling that the job description of The Reaper didn’t include picking flowers or feeding unicorns.
He chuckled, sensing my fear. “It’s not as scary as it sounds - well, unless you’re a ghost.” I thought about the terror that had filled Bianca’s eyes each time Nadia had been near and shivered.
“She escorts the souls Persephone rejects back to this realm. She can control ghosts and even merge her soul with ghosts that aren’t strong enough to ward off her advances.”
“That’s how she did it…” I marveled to myself.
“Did what?” Finn asked curiously.
“Before she forced my soul out of my body, she merged with Bianca and talked to us. It was creepy.” I shivered again and Finn hugged me tighter.
“Now that you know who she is and what she’s capable of, you’ll be a little more prepared next time.” Next time?
“It wouldn’t hurt my feelings if I never saw her again,” I declared resolutely.
“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s an option,” he warned in a low voice, heavy with bitterness and distaste.
Chapter 12
“Pasha.”
The sheets beneath me were cool and soothing as I listened to the wind stirring against the window pane above my head. The night was undisturbed, but I had the odd sense that something was coming, something of great consequence and reprisal.
“Pasha.” I cracked open a sleepy eye. Finn was kneeling beside the bed; his handsome face only inches away. “Come to the beach with me,” he whispered with a ghost of a smile and mischief swirling in his blue eyes. It had to be past two in the morning, but warmth for his adventurous spirit filled my heart and I grinned at the almost boyish hope that garnished his face.
After assembling several blankets and one curious canvas bag, contents unknown, we were on our way down the boardwalk towards the deserted beach. The intoxicating smell of wet sand and sea grass filled my nose, and the roar of the ocean greeted me as I took in the captivating scene we found ourselves immersed in. The quarter moon hanging above cast a silver lining on every dune, every sleeping flower, and the shoulders of the dark angel walking beside me. It created a magical backdrop to an otherwise ordinary scene.
The tantalizing allure of the rolling ocean curled around my soul and teased me with its promise of freedom. I closed my eyes and smiled happily, seduced by its magnificent power. Finn chose a soft spot of sand to spread out the thickest of the blankets. He knelt down, absent-mindedly searching through a large canvas bag.
Maybe it was the magical moonbeams shining down on us, maybe it was the events of the weekend filling me with renewed courage, or maybe it was the way the light danced on his dark hair and strong shoulders, but either way I peered over the proverbial edge, smiled at the mysteries lurking below, and jumped. I crawled over to him and took his hand slowly; calling his attention. I threaded my small fingers through his and he turned to face me with a crooked grin, both of us on our knees.
“Come swimming with me,” I said, more timid then I had intended. My heart leapt into the air and my pulse quickened at my own courage. He glanced down at our clothes and then back at me with questioning eyes. As his answer, I kept his gaze and carefully pulled the strap of my blue tank top down my shoulder, revealing a pink bra strap. I reached up to pull the other strap down when he suddenly clutched my wrist.
Never breaking his suddenly intense gaze, he moved closer and caressed my cheek.
Assuming he was stopping me from making a fool out of myself, I felt an embarrassed grin cross my face. I held my breath as he lightly ran his fingers down my neck, and onto my shoulder. With obvious wonderment, he removed the other strap of my tank top, revealing another pink bra strap. His now hooded eyes met mine once more and I became lost in the powerful emotions I could see shining from them. He dragged a finger over the bottom of my tank top, sending shivers along the bare skin beneath.
He gingerly pulled my tank top over my head and tossed it down on the blanket. My thin undergarments did little to protect from the cool ocean breeze, but I was too nervous to notice. With trembling fingers I gripped the bottom of his cotton t-shirt and tugged it over his head, revealing his sturdy, muscular torso. The moon shined down onto his bronze skin and his blue eyes softened even further. He climbed to his feet, took my hands and pulled me up with him. Taking another deep breath, I hastily shrugged off my shorts. Unfortunately, as I stepped out of them, my big toe caught the inside seam. If you’ve ever tripped up a flight of stairs, dropped something valuable down a drain, or slipped on a patch of ice, you can empathize with the sudden mini heart attack that clutched my heart.
I saw myself crashing face down in the sand, shorts tangled around my ankles, and my butt in the air.
Thankfully, back in reality, Finn had caught my arms and righted my body before my inevitable epic fail came to fruition.
As his amused, deep blue eyes took me in: bare, vulnerable, and now completely mortified, a sudden tsunami of insecurity rushed over me. Despite my shorts mishap, I told myself this was no different than wearing a bikini. Unfortunately, the evasive wind flowing through the thin fabric disagreed.
An entirely new feeling swept over me as he let his own shorts fall to the sand, leaving only thin plaid boxer shorts. My heart hammered against my chest and my hands began to sweat as he stepped forward and touched my cheek lovingly.