“But am I?” Loise interrupted, raising her eyebrows.

  “Okay!” Defeated, Greg threw his hands up. “I like some romance books, I admit it! Are you happy now?” He glared at Loise and then turned to Emily, “She didn’t mean, like…”

  “Porn.” Louise grinned mischievously from behind the counter.

  “Yeah, thanks Loise, I don’t read Pornographic stuff. Just books with a good love story, usually a mystery that needs to be solved or something … and generally those have sex in them. Sue me.”

  By the time he finished, Loise was cackling with laughter. “Oh my goodness, boy, you are sooo easy to mess with.”

  He shook his head, anxious for the heat flaming in his cheeks to cool down. “Let’s go get that ice cream.” He slid his hand over Emily’s lower back. He expected her to stiffen, but she didn’t, she let him guide her over to the counter in the back where the soft serve machine was located.

  “Okay, so they have chocolate, vanilla, or half and half,” he told her.

  “I’ll take the half and half,” Emily told him without hesitation.

  He nodded. “Good choice. That’s what I usually get as well.”

  He got a cone from the holder beside the machine and made her a good sized ice cream. After handing it to her, he did the same for himself. “Okay, let’s go sit over here.” He gestured to the two tables over by the windows. It wasn’t a big store, so they were lucky there were tables in there at all.

  Emily led the way and sat on one side. He slid into the other side and licked his cone. “This is so good,” he said. “I haven’t had ice cream in forever.”

  “Me either,” Emily told him, working on her own cone. Then, after a brief moment of silence she said, “You play so beautifully. I really enjoyed seeing you perform. I’m glad the girls made me go.”

  Greg shook his head. “First of all, thank you, that means a lot to me. Second, they should not have forced you to if you didn’t want to. I’ll talk to them.” He couldn’t believe his sisters had pulled that bullshit. They needed to back off and give Emily some space.

  “Oh no, please don’t. I’m actually very glad they did. If I hadn’t, I would have missed out on seeing you play. Also, it’s … it’s good for me to test my comfort levels. I should be able to be around people more.”

  “Emily…”

  “No, it’s okay. I want to. The more I do something I am uncomfortable with, the easier it gets. I really want to be able to be in crowds, I just … I’m not that good at it yet.”

  He was still going to talk to his sisters. “Listen, you tell me if they get too persistent. We are talking about Estmond women. They are pushy, headstrong and hate not getting their way. They will walk all over you if you let them.”

  Emily shook her head. “Oh no, they’re great. They didn’t make me feel used or anything, I wouldn’t have gone if I didn’t really want to, deep down. I think your sisters are amazing women who mean well and want the best for me.”

  “Well just because they think it’s best doesn’t mean it is. Just tell me if you need me to intervene.”

  She tilted her head and met his eyes. “I will. Thank you.”

  He knew she was just saying that to placate him. She had zero intention of telling him if the girls pulled anything like this again. “Okay.”

  “I loved hearing you sing, though, so I’m glad that I went.”

  He couldn’t deny it, the compliment fed his ego. It made him more than happy that he could impress her. “I love that you were there to hear it,” he told her in a soft voice.

  For a long moment, they sat there in silence, eating ice cream and staring out the window at the cars that passed by. Then, Emily turned back toward him and said, “Tell me more about growing up as a Keeper here in Summer Hollow.”

  He obliged, telling her stories about himself and his siblings. He told her about how Ethan came to be with them and about David and Hannah and how they were high school sweethearts.

  She listened and laughed, apparently enjoying spending time with him. They stayed in the store until around 1:00 AM and then headed back to his car that was still parked at Knight’s.

  When they got back to the house, he pulled into the drive, his tires crunching over the gravel, and put the car into park next to Jack’s big black truck. Before Emily could get out, he turned to her and said, “I am a pretty forward guy. You’ll probably learn that if you haven’t already. So, I’m going to ask you if it’s all right if I kiss you goodnight before we go in there.” He nodded toward the house.

  With every fiber of his being, he feared that she would jump out of the car and run from him. She didn’t like touch, he knew that, but he wanted to kiss her … badly.

  Emily’s hand was on the handle and paused at his words. Her eyes widened as she turned toward him. “You … you want to kiss me?”

  He smiled and nodded. “Yes. But I won’t without your permission.”

  She tilted her head, shifting her body toward him. Right then, with the moonlight shining through the darkness onto her face, she looked more beautiful than he could put to words. Though, he knew he would figure out a way to put it to words, in a song.

  “Yes,” she breathed out. “You can kiss me.”

  Needing no further permission, he leaned over and cupped her chin, running his thumb over her jaw bone. “I like you Emily.”

  “You don’t even know me,” she whispered.

  “I want to.” And then, he leaned in further and let his lips lightly graze over hers. She sucked in a breath, as if surprised by the contact. He lingered a moment, then placed another peck on her lips. It took will power, but he forced himself to pull away. He still had his fingers on her chin though, so he let their gazes meet and said, “Thank you for spending the evening with me.”

  “I…”

  That was all she said, she seemed to be speechless. He laughed, and leaned back into his seat. “I’ll take that as a good thing. Let’s go get some sleep.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  CAMILLE

  Camille could hear the pounding of running footsteps in the hallway outside her bedroom door. She had been sleeping, sort of, but she was a light sleeper anyway and would have heard the sound regardless.

  There was only one reason someone would be running through the halls in her wing at this hour of the night.

  Ephraim.

  She threw aside the covers and bolted from the bed. She grabbed the silk robe that lay draped over a chair near the dresser and slipped it on as she hurried to the bedroom door and flung it open.

  The guards had just stopped the nurse and one of them was arguing with her. “Ma’am, you need to step back,” he ordered in a firm voice.

  “But… I need … Mr. Walker…” she breathlessly tried to explain.

  “Let her be,” Camille ordered her guards. “Mary, what is it?” she addressed the nurse next.

  “Oh, thank God, you need to come quickly. I don’t think we have much time.” And with that, the nurse took off running back the way she had come. Camille was right there with her, running barefoot over the cool marble floors, her silk robe billowing out behind her. The whole way, she pushed away the thoughts, but she knew that she might be running toward the final goodbye to her husband.

  When she got to the room, she found the other nurse helping Ephraim sit up. He was coughing violently, his frail body wracking with each cough. She could tell it was painful and cringed at the sight, hurting for her husband.

  Once his cough calmed, the nurse helped him lay back onto the pillows. Camille immediately went to his side and gripped his hand in hers. “Ephraim,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

  He opened his heavy eyelids and stared back up at her. With a gravely voice that seemed to take all of his strength to use, he said, “I know I have not always been a good husband. I am not a nice man, but I do love you, my dear Camille. Thank you … for everything.”

  She tightened her grip on his hand and fought the tears that threatened to surface. “And I am not a nice woman. It made us a perfect match, and I do love you Ephraim Walker.”

  He nodded that he understood and acknowledged. But then, he drew in a long, ragged breath and after releasing it, asked, “Jackson?”

  “He’s not here,” she said simply.

  The look on his face was more than she could stand. She hated her son for not being here. She hated him for everything that he had become after she’d worked so hard to train him. He was supposed to lead their Empire. She had thought for sure that he would realize his decision was wrong and come back to them before they lost his father. She had thought that, but she was wrong.

  “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I know he would be here if he could.” The lie ate at her, but could not be heard in her voice. She would not let him hear it.

  “Tell him … I love him. I did not say it enough … or show it, but I do.” Another coughing spell took him. Camille looked to the nurse, who was already rushing over to help. She lifted him to a sitting position again and when she lay him back down on the pillows, his eyes were closed. He gave Camille one last gentle squeeze on her fingers and then he simply stilled.

  She knew he was gone.

  Tears silently slipped from the corners of her eyes and spilled down over her cheeks. She didn’t break down into sobs, she was beyond that, having expected this for a long time. But she did allow herself the tears. This man had become part of her life, a life she wouldn’t have had without him. And now he was gone.

  She sat there for a long time with him afterward. The nurses let her be, knowing better than to argue with her. It was harder than she thought it would be to let go this final time. Her hand rested over his, and she lay her head down near his on the hospital bed, knowing that after this night, she would never again touch him or be near him.

  His words to her were the truth, he had not been an emotional man. He wasn’t the kind to say I love you and sprinkle doting words on anyone, even his wife and child. He was stern, and harsh at times, but she knew that underneath he was more than.

  Her words were not a lie either. She was not a good woman. She was like him in all of those same ways, which did, indeed, make them a perfect match. She was not afraid of what would happen without him. She could lead, but she would miss the man that she had spent most of her life with. That kind of time with someone created bonds that only death could break.

  Perhaps she waited with him hoping to see his soul, but the glittering blue mist of a soul’s presence did not appear. That meant he had moved on and, she told herself, that was a good thing. She had never lost someone this close to her, so she had never wished to see their soul. She wouldn’t have fed on him of course, not to mention that a Reaper should never feed on the soul of another Reaper, but seeing the soul could mean that she might get to talk to him again if he could solidify.

  If he had moved on, she hoped that whatever he had moved on to was better than life and better than being stuck here as a soul. What was beyond death, no one knew, but it had to be better, it just had to.

  Eventually, she knew that she had to get up and leave the room. There were preparations to make, people to notify, and plans that Ephraim had made when he got sick that needed to be put into motion.

  So, she lifted her head and removed her hand from his cool skin. She rose to stand and then placed one last kiss on his cheek. “I will miss you, dear Ephraim, and I will do right by your Empire.”

  Dragging her fingertips over the sheets, she turned away and strode out of the room.

  After returning to her wing of the mansion, she stripped out of her robe and nightgown, tossed them onto the bed and pulled a pair of slacks and a loose top out of her closet. After dressing, she slid into a pair of sneakers that were only worn when she needed to feed. She had more sense than to wear heels … or even her flats, into a graveyard. The ground was often too soft for heels and if she needed to run for some reason, she’d prefer to be wearing the sneakers.

  “Let’s go,” she muttered to the guards as she exited her room. They followed along, not needing to be told where they were going, they could tell by her choice of shoes alone.

  The guards sat in the front of the car, one driving and one as passenger, as they drove her to the cemetery. The parking lot was well lit with a greenish glow emanating from street lamps. Her guards cruised slowly through the lot, circling back to the spot closest to the exit and then combat parked the car.

  She could see the souls through the iron gates already and her muscles clenched with hunger. Glittering blue mist traveled in swirling wisps, weaving in and out of the trees. As far as she could see, there were no silver auras, so that meant no Keeper in close proximity.

  Though she could leave watching for Keepers to her guards, out of life-long habit she continued to scan the grounds as she moved through the entrance and into the graveyard. The trio moved deeper into the maze of headstones and tombs, into the back where the older mausoleums were found. It was best to be in a place where someone walking or driving by wouldn’t spot what she was doing. Not that they would be able to tell exactly what was happening, but it would still look strange.

  She found her target soul and moved toward the shimmering mist. She held out her hand, gracefully stepping closer and suddenly, right before she locked it in, it sensed her. The mist ebbed its light, glowing brighter and then dimmer in fear and warning. The soul was not quick enough to escape her, though. She had it secured in her magnetic grasp and it began to move toward her.

  She parted her lips and closed her eyes, ready for the fulfillment of a soul inside her. Her chest heaved, sucking the molecules of the soul into her own body. A soft moan escaped from within her, and while she should have been embarrassed to show emotion in front of her guards, she didn’t care. The soul inside her tasted and felt so good, and she didn’t care about anything else at the moment.

  As she finished, she opened her eyes and let her hands fall back to her sides. Her guards were looking away from her, into the distant darkness of the graveyard, in order to give her some privacy while she fed. Now that the soul was fully within her, her skin buzzed with electricity and her blood boiled with newfound energy that she hadn’t felt for quite some time.

  She’d needed that. It had been far too long since she’d had a soul, and with all the stress of Ephraim being sick and Jackson betraying her, her body had become weaker than she had ever let it get.

  “Feed,” she told the guards, gesturing to the glittering blue clouds of mist in the distance, “Since we are here, you may as well.”

  Without a word, both Reapers nodded to her in affirmation and then proceeded to find their own souls to devour. She watched while they did so, and watching gave her almost as much pleasure as taking one herself.

  When they were finished, she could tell that they felt much better as well. Her guards obviously fed more than she, since they needed to keep up their strength to protect her, but one could almost tell when a Reaper has consumed a soul recently. Their auras would not only glow brighter, but so would their bodies. She thought the afterglow was akin to the flush and brightness one gets when they drink a little too much. In her eyes, it was basically the same thing.

  Wordlessly, the guards led her back to the car. With each step, she found a renewed anger toward her son and that bunch of Keepers he had aligned himself with.

  He was going to be sorry he betrayed her and his father.

  They were all going to be sorry.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EMILY

  Voices from the hallway woke her. For a moment, she forgot where she was and thought the noise was coming from outside her room of the little cabin in the swamp.

  Eyes flying open, she shot straight up into a sitting position and flung the covers aside. Only then did she realize the blankets she threw were not hers. Nothing in the room was hers. Nope, she was in the home of the Estmond Keepers and they were all getting ready to go on a mission to kill the Reaper Empress.

  Another shout from the hallway snapped her back into the moment. Curious, she grabbed her worn blue sweatshirt from where it hung over the chair by the door and slipped it over her head. Sufficiently covered, she opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

  Steph stormed out of her room at the exact same moment, her hair tangled, wearing a pair of stretch pants and an oversized tee shirt that fell over one shoulder. “What the hell is going on out here? Have some respect people!”

  Lucy stood in front of the bathroom door, banging on it with her fist. She ignored her sister and shouted at the closed door, “Open up! I have to pee. It hurts!”

  Emily could hear the shower running, so it was obvious what the problem was.

  With a shake of her head, Steph shoved Lucy aside and tried the knob.

  “Yeah,” Lucy sneered. “It’s locked or I would have just went in.”

  “Have you tried downstairs?”

  “Yeah, but Ethan is in there and the shower isn’t running so I don’t even want to know what he’s doing in there. Good lord.” She rolled her eyes up at the ceiling. “Why can’t he just use his own house?” She slammed her fist into the door again. “Open up!”

  Emily watched the scene go down and couldn’t help but feel awkward. She couldn’t help and she didn’t know what to say, so all she could do was stand there looking like an idiot.

  Finally, the water stopped. “Hurry up!” Lucy shouted.

  The bathroom door flung inward and a cloud of steam billowed out into the hall. And out of the misty cloud strode James, soaking wet with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. He glared down at his baby sister. “I’m not done, so make it quick,” he told her and then stepped aside so that she could rush past him and slam the door shut behind her.

  Emily found herself unable to take her eyes off of James. Drops of water slid over his muscles, running down his chest and over his abdomen. He reached up and ran his hand through his wet hair, which happened to be a much darker red when it was damp. Her gaze slid over his body. She couldn’t help it. A girl would have to be dead not to appreciate a body like his.

 

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