I sniffle. “So…Russell’s alive?” I ask.

“Yes,” he replies.

“And you think that I healed Russell?” I ask, wiping away a tear.

“Yes,” Reed says.

“And there is a downside in that I had to transfer his wounds to myself?” I ask Reed for clarity.

He nods briskly. “I will say there is a downside, Evie,” Reed says. Leaning over, he gently unbuttons my shirt and shows me the brutal looking scar on my chest. It is right in the same spot that Freddie had stabbed Russell with his knife. The necklace that Reed had given me rests just above it. Reed then pulls back my blanket, showing me the small, red scar from a wound in my thigh. It appears to be in the same leg and the same place where Russell had been stabbed.

As I touch the scar on my leg, I wince at its tenderness. “Russell is really downstairs?” I ask him softy.

“Yes. Do you want me to go and get him for you?” he asks with a deflated sigh.

I shake my head. “No, not yet. I don’t want anyone but you right now,” I whisper honestly. “Is he okay?” I ask as Reed tucks the blankets back around me.

Reed’s reply is stiff, “He is better than okay. You healed every wound he ever had. You even straightened out his nose for him. He looks different. I might have to break it for him again,” he grumbles, holding me tightly in his arms. “Brownie and Buns are downstairs, too,” he adds in a softer tone. “They wouldn’t leave you. They are worried about you, so I let them stay here.”

My eyes widen as I inhale deeply. “They’re angels! I didn’t know they were angels! Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I ask, astounded by their deception. “And their wings! You should see their wings! They look like butterflies!” I exclaim.

A small smile touches Reed’s lips. “They are Reapers,” Reed says, but when he sees fear enter my eyes, he quickly adds, “They are not Fallen. They both collect souls for Paradise. Reapers have different wings from ours. Some are like butterflies, and there are others that look like ladybugs and beetles,” Reed starts explaining to reassure me.

An ache in my chest makes my voice sound hollow as I murmur, “And…some look like dragonflies.”

Reed frowns. “Yes…until I find Alfred, and then he won’t have any wings to speak of,” Reed says calmly.

A shiver shakes me as I think, Freddie… he isn’t Freddie anymore—my Freddie is dead. All that’s left is Alfred.

Feeling my heart beating heavily in my chest, I ask, “How did Brownie and Buns know that we were there?” If it hadn’t been for the girls, I would’ve been without a soul, and Gaspard would’ve had a new toy to break.

Reed’s eyes darken as he frowns. “They weren’t aware that you were there at first. They became curious when they felt the souls that had been released by the massacre. Alfred made a mistake when he allowed Gaspard to kill all of those humans. He should have made his lieutenant wait until after he had taken your soul to kill the humans,” Reed explains.

“But he didn’t…” I say, feeling sicker as I remember the dead lying strewn on the floor.

“No, he didn’t,” Reed agrees as his mouth forms a grim line. “Buns and Brownie were there to do their jobs and collect the souls, but then they found you there with Alfred and Gaspard. Apparently, the girls seem to believe that you are their girl, and they did not take it well that Alfred and Gaspard were killing you. Reapers are usually non-violent.”

I remember everything now with a clarity that makes me tremble in fear and loathing. I try to tell Reed everything I can remember, and some of what I have to tell him is so difficult for me that my throat burns in pain as if someone is choking me. I have to stop several times so that I can sip some water before I go on.

The hardest part is telling Reed that the fallen Seraphim know about me and had sent Alfred to watch me. I’m not exactly sure why I feel so much shame in telling him that, but I suspect it is because I am afraid of what it means. If they know that I exist and had sent someone to watch me—watch me, not kill me, does it also mean that they had a hand in my very existence? I don’t know, and neither does Reed, but the thought makes me nauseous.

Reed, seeing worry and pain in my eyes, squeezes me tighter as if he will protect me from my own fears. “I’m very sorry. I should’ve never let you go out,” he says self-effacingly. “I should have known about Alfred. The Reaper is right; I am blind when I’m with you. I can see nothing but you, and that makes me ineffective,” Reed says, bringing his hand to his forehead and rubbing it.

“Reed, the only reason I’ve made it this far is because of you,” I say incredulously. “If it weren’t for you, Sebastian probably would’ve made a pillow of my bones by now, or whatever it is that those vile things do.” I shudder, having seen firsthand what the Fallen are capable of doing.

“I must be more disciplined in the future. There can be no more mistakes,” Reed continues. “I have to find Alfred soon. I’ve let him go, and he could be anywhere by now, but…I don’t think he will stray too far from you. He will be desperate, if what he said is true about not being able to go back to Sheol a failure. He needs your soul now, more than ever.”

I twist my hands together as I think of him. “Alfred said that he had a legitimate reason for being here. What do you think he meant by that?” I ask him, because I don’t quite understand everything that transpired. My head is beginning to ache, and I want to close my eyes, but I fight the urge.

Reed covers my hands in reassurance, saying, “He is a Reaper, just like your friends. They usher the soul to Paradise, or if it is damned, then they take it away to the abyss. The angels of death go where they are called. We as Powers don’t pay particular attention to them because, even if they are evil, they are here to do a job that is not disputed.”

My eyebrows rise, “You’re saying that, if a human is bad, then someone like Freddie will come to get his soul when he dies?” I ask, and Reed nods.

“You are not safe until we find Alfred and destroy him,” he says darkly.

In a small, panicky voice, I whisper, “That means Russell isn’t safe either. We have to protect him, Reed. Alfred knows all about Russell. That’s why he used him to get me to go with him to the Seven-Eleven.”

“And, you were willing to give away your soul in order to protect Russell,” Reed says in a hush tone of pain. “Evie, why? You promised me that you would do everything to survive. I thought I was watching you die.”

Seeing the raw, aching hurt on Reed’s face, I realize something. “You think I chose Russell over you?” I ask him, seeing how it must look to him, after all the promises I had made.

“Didn’t you?” he replies with a quiet kind of bitterness that runs deep.

I shake my head. “No. Never. I will never want anything as much as I want you. I will never love anything as much as I love you,” I say passionately.

“Then, why did you do it?” he asks in bewilderment.

“Because I had to, and I hoped that one day you would forgive me for it,” I whisper, and I begin to cry again because I know that I’ve hurt him badly.

“Then…you are still mine?” he asks me searchingly.

“That is never in dispute. I will always be yours,” I wipe at the tears on my face. “I’m so sorry,” I cry harder.

“Shhh…my brave girl…my love. You have to rest now, or you will make yourself sicker,” Reed whispers comfortingly. He pulls me closer, drying my tears with the corner of my sheet.

“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make you so happy that you’ll have to forgive me eventually,” I whisper hoarsely, trying to ease the ache in my chest.

“You don’t need to be forgiven for anything…and I am happy. You are alive, and you love me.”

“Reed,” I say.

“Evie,” he says back, the way I used to do to him when we argued, before I knew he was an angel. He smiles at me.

My eyes droop, and I know that I am falling asleep. “Don’t leave. You look very tired. You need to rest. Sleep here with me, okay?”

“Sleep, love,” Reed says, and because I can’t fight it anymore, I obey.

“Why didn’t anybody tell me I missed finals? I’m going to lose my scholarship!” I say, panicking and attempting to get out of bed. I feel a restraining hand on my shoulder, holding me down. Reed, sitting next to me, is apparently ready for me to freak out over the news that I’ve been in bed for, not days, but weeks. I have missed my finals and we are well into the winter break, fast approaching Christmas.

From the armchair next to my bed, Buns says, “Sweetie, we took care of it for you. I wrote a letter to the administration stating that you’d been very sick. When you’re better, they’ll let you take your exams.”

Brownie, standing by the window, chimes in, “I’ll help you study for your art history exam, since I’ve met several of the artists you’re studying.” My eyes must be really wide because she laughs at my expression.

“And I will help you with your History of Western Civilization exam,” Zephyr says firmly.

Buns gives him a skeptical smile. “Do you really think that’s a good idea, Zee?” Buns asks.

“Of course.” Zephyr says, frowning. “Why would I be a bad choice to help her?”

“Sweetie, you have a slightly different perspective on history than the humans do,” Buns tries to say gently. I see she is trying very hard not to smirk so Zephyr will not be offended.

Zephyr growls from the corner of the room, before he crosses his arms over his chest and leans up against the wall, looking sullen. “I will be correct with my facts. It’s not my fault if the humans get it wrong in their history recordings. I should know because I was there.”