LEX

I admit, I’m not usually one for dramatics.

I’m a logical sort of girl. I much prefer stoic, polite, even-tempered kinds of responses. They’re more responsible. Less messy. I don’t enjoy getting into the nitty gritty of things. Keeping things surface-level is just so much easier.

But suddenly seeing the ghost of the male I’ve looked for, grieved for, been out-of-my-head confused over, and most recently declared that I will kill for is enough to make even the most level-headed girl lose her mind.

So my reaction is to scream.

Loudly. And it’s…okay. It gets quite high-pitched.

Belren winces, though he doesn’t move from his spot on the boulder. “Must you do that?” he asks through his grimace. “We already have a screamer on Ghost Island, though I think you can give her a run for her money.”

My mouth clamps shut, but I have no idea what he’s saying, can’t even comprehend the words. I’m too busy staring at him in disbelief.

“This isn’t happening,” I whisper to myself, head shaking with denial. “I’m sleeping. Dreaming. Gone delusional. This is absolutely not happening.”

He tilts his head curiously. “What’s not happening?”

“You!” I shriek, exasperated. “There is no way you can just be here after all this time!”

His lips tip up, as if my mental break is amusing him. “You’re yelling again.”

Barely hearing him, I start wringing my hands and moving away. “Did I do this?” I say to myself as I look around the island, at a loss. “Did I somehow…bring him here? Because this is crazy. He can’t be here. He just can’t.”

When he sees me backing up, he jumps down from the rock and makes his way toward me. “Did you see that trick?” he asks, hiking a thumb over his shoulder. “Finally learned how to sit on top of the boulder, though I can’t get inside of it. Still, it’s progress.”

I blink. Goodness. We’re both crazy.

“Anyway,” he continues. “Why can’t I be here?”

All of a sudden, I’m terrified of him getting nearer. Sure, I searched for him, all my thoughts have been consumed by him, but did I ever really think I’d come face-to-face with him again?

Apparently not.

“Stop coming closer!” I shout, making him stop in his tracks.

“Why?”

My nerves are frazzled, my emotions gone haywire. “Because, I just…I need to think for a second. Just…just stay there. I need a good seven-foot radius of clear thinking space.”

He snorts. “So…you’re incapable of thought when others are in your think-radius?”

“What? No. I mean, yes!” I finish with a blurt when he starts to move forward again. My voice is flustered, my mind even more so as I try to adapt to the fact that I’m actually speaking to him.

He’s here.

Like a phantom, his silvery skin and white hair give him an uncanny masculine beauty. It’s an innate radiance, even amidst the shallowness of his form. The thick gray horns that curl up from the top of his forehead and stop below his ears are the darkest part about him, apart from his tunic, pants, and boots. But his eyes, those tin-gray eyes, are so sharp that they almost don’t look as translucent as the rest of him.

How is this possible?

But then my mind immediately zeroes in on my declaration. It can’t be a coincidence that he showed up right when that lightbulb went off and I realized what I needed to do with Soora. That has to be it. Why else would he suddenly appear?

Which means…killing the ex-princess really is what I have to do.

Gods. I really should’ve thought this through.

My mouth opens and closes several times as I continue staring at him. “How are you here?” I ask him, hoping for some clarification.

Belren glances around the island, his white brows lowering. “How? Well, I’m dead, and this is my deathplace, so…” He shrugs and turns his attention back to me. “Awfully boring place, though, isn’t it?”

“How did you find me?” I press.

“Find? You’re hard to miss, seeing as you’re the only one here alive.” His gaze casts over me with interest. “Nice trick, by the way. You look like a ghost, sound like a ghost, but you’re not a ghost. Care to enlighten me?”

I frown at him. For the first time, I pause enough in my shock to really study him. I see the curiosity in his gaze, the loose posture, the way he keeps glancing around, and something is…off. Something isn’t registering.

Admittedly, I don’t know Belren very well, but I tend to have obsessive qualities. Shocking, I know. So when I say I have picked apart every previous interaction with him in hopes of understanding why he did what he did, I mean it. He should be calling me Sixty-Nine. He should be cracking more jokes or talking to me about Emelle, or demanding answers.

A horrible sinking sensation drags down my hope, making me swallow thickly. “Are you… Do you know who I am?”

The question feels like the heaviest I’ve ever asked, burdening the very air between us. But it has nothing on the weight of his answer.

He tilts his head. “No… Should I?”

I can’t help but stagger in place, can’t help the tiny bitter laugh that crawls up my throat.

How incredibly stupid I am. I was so caught up in his sudden appearance that I forgot for a second how ghosts are. Of course he doesn’t remember me. He couldn’t. This is just some mean twist of the fates, of the Veil cruelly giving me what I asked for.

I finally found him—or rather, he found me—and he doesn’t even remember who I am. How’s that for luck?

My eyes close tight, blocking out the emotion that tries to well up inside of me. I can’t cry in front of him. I can’t.

I’m not sure when he floated closer, but when I open my eyes again, he’s right in front of me, studying my expression. “Do you know, there’s something strange about you…”

I have no idea what that means, but I forget to ask when his hand tentatively comes up in front of my face. Even though we’re both in this in-between place where we can’t touch or feel, a gasp escapes my lips as the back of his fingers trail down my cheek. It’s a single second, a solitary blink, but I swear I can almost feel him.

Then his hand drops, and I’m left bereft. Maybe that’s why I let out a moment of weakness when I quietly say, “I wish you remembered.”

He frowns. “Remembered?”

“Yes,” I urge hesitantly. “Can you try to remember?”

He gets the strangest look on his face and quickly glances away as if my request made him go deep in thought.

“Belren?”

His body goes very still, and I see him murmur something under his breath.

“What did you say?”

He mumbles again, and then all of a sudden, his gaze lifts to mine, all previous confusion gone. “Pink hair, red wings!” he shouts, making me flinch in surprise. For a split second, something like recognition flashes over his expression. “I—”

His voice abruptly cuts off, a pained noise bursting from his lips just as his eyes widen in horror. Before I can so much as move toward him, his ghostly body lurches back, and then he seems to be sucked right out of the air. He disappears with an audible crack, and all I’m left to look at is empty space in front of me.

What just happened?

“Belren?” I whirl in place, looking around wildly, but he’s gone. “Belren!” My shout echoes through the barren island, my call left on the oblivious ears of the other ghosts. I leave the Veil for a second and then go back in, thinking that maybe that will fix this. Kind of like turning a cell phone off and then back on. But when he still doesn’t reappear, I really start to panic.

I shoot around the island, wings snapping in the Veiled air as I call to him over and over.

This is all my fault.

I pushed him. Tried to force him to remember, and something happened to him because of it.

Turning in place, I desperately seek him, knowing that I might’ve just messed up my one shot at fixing things, at seeing him. “Where are you?” The call tears out of me, carrying all my frustration and desperation with it. “I said I was going to kill Princess Soora!”

“What did I tell you about yelling? We already have a screamer on Ghost Island.”

I yelp and accidentally pop out of the Veil, nearly tumbling to the ground when I forget to flap my wings. I land with embarrassing clumsiness, but the relief I feel is so encompassing that I take a shuddering breath. Tears well up in my eyes before I go back into the Veil again. Whirling, I find him forty feet away, lying down on the ground with his arms and legs splayed like he’s getting ready to make a snow angel.

“You’re back!”

“Nice trick, going from alive to ghostly again. How do you manage that?”

I fly over as he sits up, looking me up and down as I kneel beside him. “Are you okay?”

He arches a brow. “I’m dead.”

“Right. Umm… What are you doing?” I ask, watching him carefully as he continues to lie there.

“What do you mean? I’m relaxing on my deathplace. I keep getting sucked back here for some reason. Wicked annoying.”

My eyes drop down to the ground. This really is the spot.

“Nice ambience, isn’t it?” he drawls.

I’m kneeling over him now, just like I was before on that awful day. That day when his body was splayed out and his heart had already stopped. When power still crackled over his silvery skin, scorching the earth beneath him. I still remember the way my tears steamed when they landed on the ground.

I get yanked out of the memory when he quickly leaps to his feet and pretends to dust himself off. “Well, that was jarring. Now, where were we? Oh, yes. I heard you talking about leaving to commit murder. Let’s get on that, shall we?”

That’s all the confirmation I need. He remembered that, and he appeared both times when I said it.

“Do you…remember anything else we talked about?” I ask carefully as I stand up beside him.

“Mmm, no. Don’t remember anything much really. Should I?”

I quickly shake my head. “Nope, no, not at all. There’s nothing else to remember.”

He gives me a funny look, but the last thing I want is to set him off again. I should consider myself lucky that he remembers anything at all. For whatever reason, he seemed to reset back to his deathplace when I tried to get him to try.

“Does that…happen a lot? Getting sucked back to your deathplace?”

He looks at the ground with disdain. “A fair few times that I know of, but if it’s more than that, I can’t remember,” he replies, mouth pinching in confused aggravation.

I can only imagine how frustrating this must be for him. Still…

“You’re not like the other ghosts,” I note, nodding in the direction of the graveyard. “You might not remember everything, but you’re not like them. They can’t even really talk.”

He follows my gaze to watch the despondent ghosts before he shrugs. “It’s probably only a matter of time before I’m as boring and tedious as that lot.”

I frown, not liking that thought at all. Not remembering me is one thing, but to see him become like those other ghosts, mumbling incoherently, too far gone to even make eye contact? That would be devastating.

“Anyway, let’s hear all the details.”

My brows pull together. “Details?”

“Yes, you’re the murderess, so you must have a plan. If you’re going to pull this off, you need to have a good one.”

I let out a huff. “I’m not a murderess.”

“Come now, don’t be shy. It was the most entertainment I’ve had in…well, I don’t know how long, to be honest. But who are we killing?”

We? You mean…you want to come?”

Both hands come up as he gestures around. “Of course. You’ve seen this place. You wouldn’t be so cruel as to leave a despairing ghost out of a good revenge mission, would you? Screamer over there is giving me a headache.”

“Ghosts can’t get headaches.”

“Well, an annoyance-ache, then.”

“There’s no such thing.”

He gives out a long-suffering sigh. “Are you always this literal?”

“Yes.”

When he starts to laugh, I shake my head. This is a strange conversation. “Listen, you can’t go off gallivanting around the realm.”

Belren cocks his head and walks closer to me, and it’s hard not to back up because of the intensity of his attention. “That’s the thing, I’ve tried walking off the edge of the island, but I get this feeling like I can’t leave. But for some reason, I think I could leave with you.”

My mouth opens and shuts. I have no idea what to say.

For a moment, he’s quiet and deep in thought. “I know—it’s because of that trick you have of going solid. Maybe I can latch onto you?”

“Latch onto me? Like a leech?”

He rolls his eyes. “Like a ghost.”

“How in the world would you do that?”

Belren looks around for a moment in thought before his gaze stops on our feet. A grin overtakes his expression. “You’ll take my deathplace with you.”

“Take what with me?”

“My deathplace. It’s the perfect loophole,” he says, kneeling down to gesture to the dirt while excitement rushes through his words. “This spot keeps sucking me back, so you can simply take it with you! Do your little trick with going anti-ghostly, and scoop up some of my deathplace. You can stick it in your haversack.”

My lips turn down, hand going to the strap around my shoulders. “This is a quiver. It holds my Love Arrows, thank you very much.”

Love Arrows?

“Yes, I’m a cupid.”

Belren pauses. “A cupid?” For a moment, he’s quiet, and I worry this will trigger him again, but then he simply shakes his head and says, “You mean to tell me you’re in charge of love and mating, that sort of thing?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s surprising.”

“Why?”

He waves a hand up and down my body. “I’d have thought that someone with the job of seduction would be dressed a bit more…seductively.”

My lips purse. Before Emelle allowed cupids to become corporeal, we were dressed in whatever clothes we died in. Mine was something very similar to what I’m wearing now, and I haven’t seen the need to change it.

I run my hand over the silhouette of my jacket and blouse. “I’m dressed like a professional.”

“Oh, don’t take any offense, love. I happen to enjoy what you’re wearing immensely,” he says with a wink.

Nervous butterflies seem to erupt in my stomach, and I have no idea how to reply.

His gray eyes jump over my shoulder. “I suppose that explains the bow and arrows you’re carrying. Can you shoot one at me?”

My eyes nearly bug out. “Excuse me?”

Belren spreads his arms and backs up a step. “Just try it.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Pinky.”

I falter in place at the nickname but quickly realize that it wasn’t from memory. He’s just looking at my hair. I try to pretend that disappointment doesn’t swim in my gut.

“Love Arrows are not toys,” I tell him firmly. “In order to even earn their quiver, a cupid has to agree to never shoot an arrow without pure purpose.”

His arms drop. “You’re no fun.”

Oh, if only I had a fulfilled quota for every time someone said that to me.

“Alright, since you’re not going to toss your cupid stick at me, let’s get back to the task on hand.”

I grit my teeth at the term cupid stick. “What task?”

“Taking my deathplace with you so I can tag along. Let’s see if it works. Now quick, scoop up some of my muck and fill your quiver.”

My nose scrunches. “That sounds dirty.” When he flashes me a wicked smile, I immediately get flustered again. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Goodness.

“No need to blush, Pinky.”

“My name is Lex, and I can’t blush when I’m in the Veil.”

“Or gather my muck.”

My eyes narrow on him. “This isn’t going to work.”

He shrugs. “I think it might.”

I can tell that he’s not going to let this go, and I really do feel bad about setting him off, so I decide the least I can do is appease him in this. In the next second, I pop myself out of the Veil.

If anything, it helps to take a moment to try to center my spinning thoughts. Having Belren here is…confusing. I’m not quite sure what to do or think, and he makes me feel nervous and undone. Like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Ridiculous.

But even more, I’m scared that at any moment, he could be set off again. What if he gets pulled back to his deathplace again and then becomes one of those moaning and muddled ghosts? Or what if he doesn’t come back at all? This is my new purpose. To help him avenge his death. I have to try.

With a deep breath, I look at my feet before I grumble and kneel down. Since the dirt is so hard, I have to use a Love Arrow to break it up a bit. When I get enough to scoop up, I hesitate before dumping it in my quiver, because it’s just so…dirty. I take great care of my cupid tools. I even go so far as to polish my arrows most nights until they’re gleaming.

Apparently, I take too long for Belren, because an unnatural chill suddenly goes up my back. The kind of chill that happens when ghosts are about.

I whip around with a scowl. “Excuse you!” I may not be able to see him when I’m not in the Veil, but I’d bet my bow that was him.

With a sigh, I turn back around and grip the strap of my quiver before spilling my handful inside. “This is going to make my Love Arrows absolutely filthy,” I gripe. “Not to mention that I don’t see how this could possibly work.” Still, I grab another two handfuls just to be sure. After all, I’m not the sort of girl who does anything halfway.

Popping back into the Veil, I find Belren standing entirely too close. “You felt that, huh?” he asks with a grin.

I take a step back, because being so near to him makes me all jittery. “As a Veil entity, we are more attuned to ghosts,” I tell him matter-of-factly.

“Or…you are just more attuned to me.”

I frown. “No, I’ve studied a bit about cupids and ghosts. I’m sure it’s what I said.”

He seems to find this funny, because a smile breaks out and a light chuckle escapes him. “Forget what I said before. You are fun.”

The most confusing part about what he said is that he seems to be serious.

Once again jumbled, I clear my throat. “Anyway, your muck has now soiled my quiver.”

He snickers.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You know, for a cupid, you’re very easy to rile up.”

The most embarrassing part is, he’s right.

As if he can read my thoughts, he gives me a winning grin. “Time to put our money where my muck is. Lead the way, Pinky.”

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