The Exodus Read online

  Nivian shrugged off the distraction of her thoughts with the release of a slow breath. Running her fingers through her chocolate locks, she changed them to the snowy white color of her true form. Her clothes simultaneously transformed from her human outfit to standard reaping attire as she wrapped her cloak around her shoulders. Nivian flicked her wrist, throwing her hood over her head, and vanished.

  The sun hung low, setting the sky on fire in the early evening. Nivian stood outside a white house in a small suburban neighborhood just outside city limits. Two trees stood tall in the middle of a perfectly manicured lawn of the unmemorable house. Her mark crossed back and forth in front of the large window, waving his arms wildly. During her study of this assignment, she’d come to know the man as boorish and quick to anger. These assignments bored her, but they were usually over quickly. There was nothing she’d wish to learn from a mark such as this.

  Light rain pattered gently against the pavement with a soft, rhythmic sound as a light wind blew in the remnants of a dying storm. The sound of each drop echoed off her hood, but she hardly noticed. Her attention was on the branches and debris that lay across the sidewalk, littering the ground.

  A flickering light overhead caught her eyes. Glancing up, she noticed a weakened power line with a thick branch weighing it down. In a fluid motion she’d made countless times before, Nivian waved her hand. Her fingers wove through the air guiding the tool she would use. The broken limb shifted and fell, taking the loosened line with it and sending sparks showering all around as it hit the ground. The impact caused leaves to shift and fall back into place. Though the wire was live, it lay unmoving, mixed among the detritus blocking the path to the mark’s car. It would go unnoticed in the dimming light of the cloudy skies.

  “Yes, darling, I’ll be sure to stop and run your errands before I go meet the guys. It’s not like you could have done them while I was at work all day!” The man yelled over his shoulder as he stalked away from his house, slamming the door behind him.

  He yanked keys from his pocket as he grumbled to himself. “Damn tree, almost hit my car.” He cursed looking up at the broken stub above him.

  His fingers fumbled when he neared his car. The steady ticking of the watch in her hand counted down his final moments. Nivian flicked a finger and the keys slipped from his grasp. The mark bent down to retrieve them, his foot coming down directly on the hidden wire. His body dropped to the ground in an instant and lay perfectly still.

  Nivian walked to the man’s side and loomed over him. She waved her hand, calling forth his life thread. The glowing energy obeyed her command, floating above the body. She reached back and gripped her scythe, bringing it forward. She swung, severing the man’s life. The thread gathered over her palm that held his watch and swirled before sinking into the now still timepiece. Snapping the lid closed, she placed it in her pocket along with the scythe that was now the size of a pen.

  “What just happened? Why are you in my driveway? Get out of here before I call the cops,” the mark snarled at her.

  Leaning over, Nivian wrapped her hand around her mark’s forearm and lifted him up, separating his soul from his physical body. “Rick Stephanson—”

  “Who are you, and how do you know my name?” he demanded interrupting her.

  She hated when her marks did nothing but talk before she could get more than a few words out. In the beginning, she’d tried to reassure them that everything would be fine, but had since cut down her speech considerably. “You’re dead now. Wait here; your spirit counselor will be with you in a moment.”

  Rick’s mouth dropped open. No doubt to demand more answers he wouldn’t wait for her to give. But she didn’t stick around for the next barrage of questions.

  By the time Nivian reached her apartment, it was late, having to stop at G.R.I.M. Headquarters to turn her mark into Caspian had taken longer than she had expected. They had talked for several minutes before he dismissed her. Something had been distracting him throughout their conversation, but she was unable to put her finger on it. Whatever it was, he seemed to be under a great deal of stress. Caspian’s mind was far from his duties. Twice, he had attempted to dismiss her before she even had the opportunity to hand over her completed assignment.

  Nivian massaged her temples with her fingertips. The fight was over, and the balance restored. Everything should have been back to normal, though things didn’t feel right. Her bottom lip was tender and swollen from chewing on it as she did when she was deep in thought. She hated leaving Caspian to sort out what was bothering him on his own, knowing he wouldn’t hesitate to help her in any situation. But what if he didn’t want her help? What if the situation was way above her position? Nivian fought the urge to confront him and remind him what friends were for. He knew she was there if he ever wanted to talk.

  The wooden floorboards creaked as she paced across the length of her room, unable to decide what to do. Perhaps she would ask Kain for his opinion—

  Oh, no. Kain! She’d forgotten to meet him after turning in her assignment. Glancing at the clock on her nightstand, it was already ten o’clock at night.

  Wrapping her cloak around her shoulders, she paused and wondered if it was too late. There was only one way to find out. Pulling the hood over her head, his words echoed though her mind. This is why people knock...

  Kain had explained ‘personal space’ a few weeks back when she showed up at his apartment. He’d been in the shower and she had only meant to be helpful by handing him a towel. It’s not as if she’d seen anything—he had just been taking so long to get ready, and she wanted to speed him up. Now she knew it was frowned upon to intrude like that. The habits of mortals were still foreign to her, but Kain was patient in teaching her about the endless little details as they cropped up.

  Not wishing to upset him when she needed his advice, she transported to the floor below, appearing right outside Kain’s apartment.

  Nivian raised her hand, knocked lightly, and then waited. Moments later, she could hear rustling sounds through the door, then the scratching of something across the floor, followed by muffled speech.

  The door swung open. Kain stood smiling and barefoot, dressed in jeans with a long-sleeved sweater over a collared shirt. Relief swept through her that he was still up and expecting her.

  “It’s about time you showed up.” He bowed her in, making a large sweeping motion with his arm.

  An old man shuffled down the hallway and turned his scowling face toward Kain, grumbling.

  “Good evening, Mr. Mataskey.” Kain waved and the man returned the gesture dismissively, and continued shuffling along.

  Nivian gave Kain an apologetic shrug. “I got caught up at Headquarters.”

  “You know, he probably thinks I’m crazy now.” Kain motioned with his head toward the man. “For all he knows, I opened the door to bow to him.” His tone was light and full of humor.

  “Sorry,” Nivian said smirking as she stepped inside the dimly lit apartment. When Kain was around, it was easy to forget that others couldn’t see her unless she was in human form. She took in the inviting atmosphere as she removed her cloak, hanging it up on a hook next to the door. A blanket lay spread out across the floor with two plates, utensils, and two short ramekins filled to the top centered on the fabric, framed by two half-melted candles.

  “Oh, Kain,” Nivian whispered, noting the thick layer of wax that coated the candlesticks. “Have you been waiting long?”

  “It’s okay,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the blanket. “I made dessert. I hope you like it; it’s crème brûlée.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  They took a seat on the blanket across from each other. “Dig in,” Kain said, lifting his spoon.

  Nivian looked down at her small dish and picked up the spoon sitting next to it. She broke the crispy top layer dipping into the dessert as she scooped a small portion of the creamy custard onto her spoon. She peeked up at Kain. He was watching her intently, not eating yet.
Nivian took a bite and closed her eyes as the light sweet flavors of caramelized sugar and custard mingled, seeming to dissolve in her mouth. “Wow…” she said breathlessly, “That was amazing.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” he beamed. “I used to eat this every year on my birthday.”

  Nivian blinked at him. Birthday? “Kain?”

  “Mmm?” he murmured around a bite.

  “Today’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

  “Not today, no. But I figured it was a bit soon to take you home to meet my mom.”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond, so she busied her mouth with another spoonful.

  After finishing their desserts, Kain stood and took the empty dishes into the kitchen.

  Nivian eyed the back of his head as she sat cross-legged on the floor, wondering what was so important about meeting a person’s parents. Mortals were very complex and it amazed her at the amount she still had to learn. She wondered if there would ever be enough time in her immortal life to understand all the intricacies and knowledge they seemed to have been born with.

  “I was thinking we could give bowling a try, if you wanted,” Kain offered as he joined her on the blanket again. “Don’t worry; it has an element of danger to it. Throwing heavy objects across the room on a waxed floor can be precarious, if you aren’t careful.” He winked.

  “All right, let’s do that.” She paused, remembering an earlier conversation. “What about the zoo? Is that dangerous?”

  “Only if you’re afraid of fluff,” he chuckled.

  Nivian raised an eyebrow. That was an odd comment. She had no idea what he meant by that and was almost afraid to ask.

  “Why are you so obsessed with danger?” he asked. But before she had a chance to answer, music blared from his pocket. Kain shifted as he pulled his phone out and looked at the display. The happy expression that had been on his face seconds before disappeared, replaced with a frown. Letting out a heavy sigh, he answered, holding up an index finger to her as he stood.

  “Hello?” asked Kain as he walked to the far corner of the room.

  Nivian tilted her head to the side. The distance he put between them and his hushed tones were unusual. She fidgeted in place. Her fingers found a loose thread on the blanket and she tugged and twisted it as she contemplated his actions.

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you then,” he mumbled and hung up the phone, walking back.

  The light mood they had shared was gone, replaced with a sense of anxiety. “Is everything all right?” Disappointed that a phone call had cut their time together short, Nivian stood when he didn’t rejoin her.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just need to get some things together for tomorrow. I’ll see you Saturday though.”

  She crossed the room, grabbed her cloak, and wrapped the soft material around her shoulders. Before she could pull the hood over her head, Kain’s hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her. Nivian turned around to face him, startled when he pulled her into his chest for a hug. He kissed the top of her head then dropped his arms.

  “I’m really sorry, Nivi. I’ll make it up to you this weekend.” His warm smile was back as though it had never left. Whatever had been said during the call to make him seem tense was probably nothing for her to worry about. After all, it was late and he was probably just tired. At least that's what she tried telling herself. Nivian chewed her lip; she was probably just overreacting.

  Pulling her hood over her head, she transported back to her apartment, but not before she’d noticed his smile slip from his face again.

  FOUR

  YEVA

  YEVA MOVED SILENTLY around her dark prison, taking stock of the meager decor. Candles burned in iron sconces that cast flickering shadows across the dark gray stonewalls. A bed, a table, and a door she couldn’t open. It was cold and impersonal, regardless of the care Silas had put into choosing her bed and table. It was not enough to hide the fact that he was keeping her in a cage like a wild animal There was not even a window to let the sun shine on her face and brighten her days, only cold, unfeeling candlelight filled her days. Silas knew what this place would do to her.

  Without the sun or moon, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed since she’d arrived in this dank cell that was now her home.

  She spun on her heel, and stormed to the other side of the room. A shiver coursed through her. Balling up her fists, Yeva held them out before her, curling and uncurling her fingers. The temptation to test her powers was strong. It pulled at her, calling, commanding her to stretch her limits and return to her former glory.

  Yeva cried out in frustration and again stalked to the other side of the room. She massaged her forehead. Even her anger was wearing down on the precious energy she had managed to build up. One second she was chilled, and the next it was as if her skin could feel the heat of an unseen fire raging next to her.

  She would lose her mind if she did not escape soon. Desperation clutched at her. Yeva ran to the etched outline of the door and pounded her small fist against the stone. “Let me out, Silas, you can’t do this!” she yelled. Her voice hit the solid rock and faded. This prison was a siphon on her heart, as well as her power and strength. Drained from the turmoil of her emotions, her legs buckled and she slid down to the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms.

  Her temperature evened out. Odd, she thought. The anomaly sticking out even through her desperation. It wasn’t like her to experience changes, even in a weakened state. Did she even dare to attempt her powers again so soon?

  If she let it, the darkness of her situation would eat her alive. It would be too easy to give in to it. But letting her emotions get the better of her would do nothing to help her. She needed logic to prevail.

  Yeva closed her eyes and stood. Walking slowly along the edges of the room from corner to corner, she concentrated, focusing on the feel of the air. Her skin tingled and warmed with the heat of the early spring sun as she walked to the wall directly in front of her. Stopping where the air was at its warmest, Yeva tilted her head before she crossed to the far side. Her skin cooled as she reached the wall.

  How had she not noticed this before? Though, Silas had kept her so weak for so long, it was a wonder she had recovered enough to move around at all.

  Her eyes snapped open and she hurried back to her starting point, putting as much distance between herself and the cold as she could manage. Yeva held her hands in front of her and called to her powers.

  Snapping her fingers, a spark ignited with a bright flash. Carefully, she meandered near the door, the light hovering over her hand dimmed. Her strength was siphoned out of her from using what little power she had, leaving her body weak and shaking. But she had to know if her suspicious were correct. Taking two slow, deep inhales, she trailed her free hand against the wall for support and made her way to the coldest area of the room.

  Her breaths came in short bursts. Black surrounded the edges of her vision, advancing and retreating like the waves of the ocean. The light in her hand extinguished itself, and she sunk to her knees, panting. The power she’d gained all but vanished, save for the tiniest amount still flowing through her veins.

  Lifting herself up, Yeva stumbled to the bed in the center of the room. She allowed her eyes to drift shut and pressed a cool hand against her burning forehead. Spent, she gave in, welcoming the void of nothingness even as a slow smile formed over her lips.

  Hours later, Yeva woke with a start. The rustle of fabric startled her out of her dreamless sleep. She sat up and scanned the room with sleep-blurred vision. Everything was the same, yet something felt different.

  She shook her head and focused her eyes, glancing around the room again. Her gaze stopped on the table across from her, where a single red rose lay. The petals still wound in a tight bud, not yet ready to bloom.

  Silas had been there.

  He’d not left her a flower since the two of them were new to the world. The gesture was naïve; he wanted her forgivenes
s, but expected the same things from their youth to work on her. She scoffed.

  Yeva looked down at her waist wrapped in fresh bandages. Rubbing her hand over the aching area, she plucked at the cloth, gently peeling it away from her flesh and exposing the wound.

  Red, angry scars marred her pale flesh, making the skin ragged and imperfect. These lines would fade with time but they would never disappear, always serving as a reminder of what would happen if she trusted—if she dared to love. Everything they had been through together… how had it ended up like this?

  Yeva lay on her back with the smell of grass heated by the summer sun surrounding her. She watched the clouds coast by forming shapes, morphing as they moved across the light, azure sky. The evening sun warmed her skin and joy filled her at hearing the songs of birds. Though, she couldn’t fly as they did, her heart felt as though it soared weightlessly on the wind with them.

  Shivering, Yeva lifted her head and looked around. The young forest to her back gave nothing away. There was no movement in her meadow, no darkness, but she could feel his presence.

  “Silas!” she called out. He was there. Every time he came to her, she could feel it in her very core. The thrill of power that was the opposite of what she possessed completed the energy that flowed through her. She stood and ran into the trees.

  An arm wrapped around her waist, catching her and spinning her around. A thrill of electricity flowed through her, making the heat rush to her face. Yeva never could comprehend quite how he did it, but he knew the effect it had on her. When she least expected it, he would shock her, grinning playfully as his gray eyes swirling with the cosmos sparkled down at her.

  “Silas…” she breathed. Butterflies danced in her belly as she looked up through her lashes. A smile lit up his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mischief.