LEX

Never, since he first appeared to me on Ghost Island, has Belren ever looked this…ghostly.

His body is completely transparent, lacking every bit of the more substantial edge he’d had. His eyes no longer seem alight and vivid, his silvery skin now lusterless and drab.

Just since he came into this room, he’s faded so much. It’s almost hard to see him, his sheer body like a barely-there wisp of evaporating smoke.

It terrifies me.

“She’s your unfinished business,” I say, more to myself than to him, but he nods anyway.

Every time he glances at her, it’s like he can’t believe he finally found her. “I feel it,” he tells me, passing a hand over his chest. “The pull is gone, and something just feels…settled.”

It was never about the princess or revenge. His goal in life was always finding his sister, so of course it carried through in his death. It makes sense.

But then…why was he able to stick around with me?

Was it because I was a means to an end? Did the fates let him stay with me because they knew I would lead him to her?

I don’t know how to feel about that.

I’m also trying really hard not to encroach on this moment with his sister, even though all I want to do is rush across the room to be closer to him. It’s hard to hold myself back when I feel like he’s slipping away, but I do it.

“I can almost see you…almost hear you perfectly,” Benicia says reverently, finger coming up to trace the shape of his silhouette. “But it’s like looking through a gauzy fabric and my ears stuffed with cotton.”

“That’s because I’m in the Veil,” he tells her.

I have no idea how she’s able to see him, but I’m so happy for them, because they deserve to have this moment together.

But as happy as I am…I hate it too.

Because this means that he’s finishing his unfinished business, and I don’t want him to fade away and disappear forever. I want him to stay, no matter how faded he may be.

“Can you see my brother?” Benicia asks Soora.

The princess shakes her head. “I can’t.”

An anxious look crosses Benicia’s face. “But you believe me, don’t you?”

“I do,” Soora tells her, and I don’t think it’s just lip service to appease Benicia’s delicate disposition. For whatever reason, she seems to be convinced.

As a cupid who is used to being in the Veil, unseen by any of the people I work my magic on, I can appreciate someone who believes in what they can’t see.

Love and hauntings. Two of the most profound, invisible things. And sometimes, they happen at the same time, with the same person.

“What are you thinking?”

I blink, startled that I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t even noticed Belren come over. Hastily, I sniff and use the crook of my arm to wipe away the treacherous tears that fell. Hopefully, he’ll just think it was happy tears for him finding his sister.

“I’m thinking that this is a lovely room.”

Belren smiles. “What happened to that moral compass of not telling lies?”

Guilty.

Swallowing hard, I ask, “Is this it?”

A frown forms between his brows. “It must be. It feels like it is, although…”

“Although what?” I cling to his hesitation.

He studies me for a moment, like he’s debating how forthcoming he wants to be. “Why aren’t I disappearing?”

My hands wring anxiously in front of me. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true though, isn’t it?” he persists. “If finding my sister was it, then I should go poof now…right?”

“I don’t want you to,” I say fiercely, hating that more tears are already springing up in my eyes.

Belren’s expression softens to something heartbreaking. “I know, Pinky.”

Suddenly, there’s a loud bang from somewhere in the house, making us all jerk to attention, heads swinging toward the noise. “Princess Soora! There’s someone here for you!”

The shout sounds like it’s coming from downstairs, from the sitting room we were in before Belren disappeared in the wall and Soora led me through her secret door.

At the commotion, Benicia cowers and practically leaps back onto her window seat, where she presses herself against the glass, looking wild-eyed and scared. Belren rushes to her.

“It’s alright,” Soora tries to soothe, but I’m not sure Benicia hears her.

“Princess!” the same voice calls, and then there’s the sound of running up the stairs. Magic crackles in the air when Soora throws up a barrier.

I instinctively back away from the door. “What’s going on?” I ask, my nerves jumping.

“I don’t know—”

In the next instant, the door bursts open, and my eyes nearly bug out of my head when I see who topples inside.

“Emelle!”

Looking completely ruffled and pink-cheeked, my cupid boss struggles to fit her wings through the doorway as she shoves inside the room.

I barely have time to register her appearance before two more males are barging in right behind her, with about five guards hot on their heels, bottlenecking on the stairway.

The room suddenly feels very small.

“What is the meaning of this?” Soora demands, going full royal-tone again.

“Hi, Princess Soora,” Emelle chirps after blowing pink hair out of her face and trying to elbow the two males behind her.

My eyes widen when I realize who it is.

All three Veil Majors are standing in this tiny room.

The head of all angels, Raziel, my own Madame Cupid as head of all of cupidity, and Jerkahf, head of all demon kind. Life, love, death. AKA kind of a big deal for them to all be standing here together.

I’ve seen them before, of course, but giving the proper amount of respect is never a bad thing. So I give a quick but respectable curtsy. I know it’s respectable, because I’ve practiced in front of a mirror many times.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” Soora demands, purple butterfly wings suddenly popping from her back. I suppose there’s a lot of Big Wing Energy in the room right now, so they feel the need to compete with the demon’s smoking wings and the angel’s glowing ones.

My own even ruffle up a little.

“Hey,” Emelle says, giving an awkward side wave. “Could you call your goons off?”

Soora’s sharp eyes consider her for a moment before she finally glances over her shoulder to the guards. “You can go.”

Werenz looks at her like she’s insane. “But, Princess, I think…” He swallows nervously but forges on, dropping his voice lower as if it’ll help the entities in front of him not hear. “This one said he was a demon,” he says, pointing a crooked finger at Jerkahf.

The demon snorts, smoke tapering off the edges of his leathery wings.

“Yes, well, I suppose it wouldn’t be smart to try to toss him out of the house then, would it?”

With a nod, the guards retreat, and Emelle kicks the door closed behind her with her foot before turning and clapping her hands together. “Great, now it’s just us.”

Raziel crosses tanned arms in front of him, glowering at her. The shininess of his golden hair makes him a little less intimidating. Or it could be the toga.

“I cannot believe we let you talk us into going through a faerie portal,” he seethes.

“Hey, they like to be called fae, not faeries,” Emelle tells him. “And I didn’t know you had a soft stomach and would get transport-sick.”

Jerkahf laughs at the angel’s expense. “I always knew angels were weaker than demons,” he says, patting his stomach currently covered in a black leather jacket. “I have a much stronger disposition.”

Raziel’s eyes narrow on him, arms flexing a bit. Either he’s purposely flexing them to seem more intimidating or they’re jumping in agitation. It could be both options, really.

“It wasn’t the portal that made me ill. Your wings smell like rotten eggs cracked over the pits of hell, and I’m sick of smelling them.”

Jerkahf grins and lets his wing stretch, and Raziel swats it away on instinct before frowning down at his hand. “I need to wash.”

Emelle rolls her eyes. “Gods, can you two just get along for five minutes?”

“No,” they both answer at the same time.

“And anyway, you’re the one who tricked us into coming here with you in the first place,” Raziel points out.

Emelle looks incredibly proud of that fact. “It had to be done.”

Raziel and Jerkahf both shake their heads but seem to look around to study the room for the first time. Jerkahf’s eyes land on me, and he shoots me a wicked smile. “Hello, little love dove. Aren’t you a gorgeous slice of Librarian Lust?”

Why do people always say things like that? Is it the hair bun?

I clear my throat a little nervously at the amount of heat coming off him that I know has nothing to do with hell. “Hi there.”

Belren is at my side in an instant. “I don’t like him.”

“Finally, someone I can relate to,” Raziel mutters, and both Belren and I whip our heads in his direction.

“You can see him?” I ask in surprise.

Now Raziel looks affronted. “I’m an angel. Of course I can see him. He’s a spirit.”

Oh. Alright.

Soora interjects. “Let me break this up, because I’d love to know why you’re here, in my house, and how you even found me, and what you want. You’re upsetting Benicia.”

I peel my attention away from the trio, finding Soora patting Benicia’s back. The horned female is watching the angel with rapt attention, but she’s no longer cowering, which I take as a good sign.

“I’m okay,” Benicia murmurs, gaze never straying from Raziel. “Your wings are very nice.”

The angel puffs up a bit, looking pleased.

“I’m sorry to barge in on you like this,” Emelle interjects.

“I was wondering when you’d finally come and find me, though I must admit, your company is troubling,” Soora replies, eyeing Jerkahf warily.

“We weren’t looking for you, per se,” Emelle admits somewhat sheepishly as she holds up her glowing head cupid mark. “Lex called me earlier, right when I was…in the middle of something. I came as soon as I could, following her call, and we rode a portal to get here. It was Raz who saw through your barrier magic.”

“I’ve asked you repeatedly not to call me Raz,” the angel complains.

Emelle pats him on the shoulder. “I know. You should really stop wasting your breath.”

“You’re my favorite Veil Major,” Jerkahf tells her.

Emelle levels him with a look. “You threatened to set Cupidville alight with the fires of hell when I tricked you into coming here with me.”

The demon shrugs. “I take it back.”

Being in the presence of these three is a little bit like watching someone try to herd cats.

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Soora cuts in, looking more and more frustrated. “If you aren’t here for me, then what are you doing here?”

“Right.” Emelle looks to me. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come find you. Since I left you, I’ve been working night and day trying to come up with a solution to our umm…problem.”

“It’s okay,” I tell her, because every moment I’ve had alone with Belren has been worth the wait.

“But I figured it out.”

I go still at her words. “You…did? You can fix him?”

A beaming smile spreads across her face, and she even jumps a little, like she can’t contain her excitement. “We can fix him!”

It feels like wind is suddenly rushing through my ears, so loud I have to shake my head to clear it. I’m worried for a moment that I heard her wrong.

“You…you really can?”

Emelle walks forward and clasps my hands. “It took me and Sev and a lot of cupid interns round-the-clock researching, but we found the answer. A wayward spirit, AKA a ghost, can be sent back to processing in only one very specific situation: all three of the Veil Majors have to combine powers to send him there. He won’t be a ghost anymore. He’ll have a second chance.”

My heart raps against my chest like an incessant knocking.

He won’t be a ghost anymore.

When I’m sure that I’m not hearing this wrong, that I’m not simply hallucinating, a surge of ecstatic hope rises up and practically lifts me off my feet as I spin around. “Did you hear that?” I exclaim. “They can fix you! You won’t be a ghost anymore. You won’t fade away into nothing!”

Belren looks as shocked as I feel, eyes darting between Emelle and me.

To say crying comes quickly is an understatement. I already have happy tears falling down my cheeks before I even get the first sentence out.

I never truly comprehended the weight of the worry I was carrying until this moment, when it seems to buoy right off of me. I’ve been so afraid every single second since he found me, that he was going to disappear—that he would just disintegrate into nothing—or that his mind would fail him. But now, Emelle can reverse his status as a ghost. She can give him a real afterlife.

Forever.

“Is this true?” Belren asks, voice tentative.

Emelle can’t see him, but Raziel moves forward with a quizzical look on his face. He stops right in front of Belren, ethereal eyes skating over him. “Curious.”

“What’s curious?” I ask.

Raziel continues to study him for a moment before he says, “Most ghosts have unfinished business. They’re usually the ones who hold out the longest when it comes to not losing their minds. But I’ve never come across a spirit with two forms of it.”

I blink in surprise. “What do you mean two?”

Raziel’s gaze moves to Benicia. “Ahh. I see the tie here clearly. Another curiosity. Not many spirits actually finish their unfinished business. Well done,” he tells Belren.

“But what’s the second one?” Belren asks.

To my shock, the angel lifts his hand and waves it at me. “Her, of course. I can see the tie as clear as day. Though, this one hasn’t been completed. It looks like it’s her side that’s blocking it from completion.”

I rear back. “My side? What do you mean?”

For the first time, Raziel actually loses the arrogant expression on his face and gives me a look of sympathy. “It’s quite common for the living to be unable to move on from the death of a loved one. But it’s uncommon for them to actually see the loved one haunting them because of it.”

His words filter in slowly, like hardened honey trying to drip from a spoon.

“Are you saying that I’m Belren’s second unfinished business, but he can’t finish it because I’m holding him back?”

Raziel nods. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

I don’t know whether I should be horrified or pleased.

On one hand, I’m holding back a spirit from being able to move on. But since moving on is just disintegrating into nothingness, I am relieved as heck that I’m keeping him here.

But…I’m his unfinished business.

Me.

That’s why he’s been able to be with me all this time.

A fresh set of tears spring up like daisies, and Belren steps up into me. “Don’t cry, Pinky,” he says softly. “I hate seeing you upset.”

“I’m—It’s just…you cared enough about me that I’m your unfinished business,” I weep. “How could I have mattered that much to you when you died?”

“How could you not?” he counters.

He loves me.

I don’t need my cupid powers to tell me that, I can see it in his face. And I must love him, because I wouldn’t be subconsciously keeping him here with me otherwise. I wouldn’t get butterflies every time he looks at me, or have my heart break any time I think about losing him again.

“It had nothing to do with your muck in my quiver.”

Across the room, the demon snorts.

“They can fix you,” I whisper, relief streaming out of me. “You can stop being a ghost.”

Belren smiles and looks over to Raziel, like he’s ready to get started right this second.

I share the sentiment. “Let’s do it,” I say, spinning toward the trio. “How does this work?”

Emelle shares a look with the others and twists her hair around nervously. “Umm, Lex…there’s something I need to tell you first.”

“What?”

Her multi-colored eyes fill with troubled emotions. “There’s one catch.”

I hold my breath, willing for it to be okay.

“When we use our joined powers on him to send him back to be processed…it will wipe his memory, just like death does.”

It will wipe his memory.

Wipe his memory.

His memory.

As in, every single moment we’ve shared since he found me. Every single scrap he’s gathered since he’s been with me.

I’m shaking my head before I even come up with a response. “But…I…”

“I know,” Emelle says, touching my arm slightly. “I can tell.”

“Everything?” I ask, voice cracking. “I know he’ll forget his mortal life, but what about this?”

I hate the pitying expression that settles over her face. “I’m sorry.”

The almost happy ending crashes around my ears, and I can’t breathe. My eyes stare down at my shoes, my wings trembling against my back as I dig my fingernails into my palms.

I never considered that by restoring him physically, I’d lose him mentally. Emotionally.

How can I lose him all over again? How could the fates be so cruel?

“You said that she’s my unfinished business,” Belren intervenes. “So I could just…never finish things. I could stay with her and my sister, memories intact.”

Raziel bobs his head left and right in thought. “Sure. For a time.”

My stomach curdles.

“Why not?” Belren demands, anger on his faded face. “You said she was keeping me here.”

“Spirits are not meant to stay forever. They will eventually fade, whether they still have unfinished business or not. In fact, most do fade, without ever fulfilling theirs.”

“But that could be years from now. Decades even,” he argues.

Raziel tips his head. “It could. But you’re lucky that you’ve kept your mind as sharp thus far. Most spirits are not so fortunate. You might lose these precious memories anyway. Plus, if you fade too much more than you already have, it doesn’t matter how many Veil entities you have at your disposal, pretty soon, we won’t be able to reprocess you. So really, this is your only chance.”

Only chance.

That phrase just repeats itself over and over again in my head.

This is his only chance.

How can I hold him back from that? It was my fault that day. I didn’t stay in the Veil like he cautioned me to. I was too preoccupied with helping, and I never imagined anything bad would actually happen because, well, I’m a naive cupid. I thought about love, not death.

Not mourning.

I press a hand to my chest, as if I can feel the tie of unfinished business knotting us together. Every moment we’ve had with one another has been a gift. I asked for closure from the fates. Demanded it, even. And maybe this was their way of giving it to me.

They let me find him, have time with him. Time that I never had while he was alive. The fates let a cupid find out what love really means. What it feels like, and it’s so much more powerful than I ever realized.

With wet-tipped lashes, I look up at Belren’s handsome, pallid face. “You should do it,” I whisper, the words falling out of me haltingly, stinging my throat on the way out and making my lips burn.

Belren looks at me like I’ve grown another pair of wings. “What?”

I nod, and it takes everything in me not to cry again. I have to be strong right now. I can’t let him see me waver. Because I know, if I show the heartbreak on my face, that he’ll do it—he’ll give up this chance and choose to stay a ghost.

Shoring myself up, I try to appear straight-backed and confident. I even tuck my hands behind me so he won’t notice my fingers twisting together. “Staying like this—constantly worried that it’ll be the end…it’s no way to be.”

“No,” Belren argues, head shaking with agitation. It’s worse when he tries to run a hand down his face, only for his hand to go right through it. He lets out a frustrated growl that tears through my stomach. “This isn’t what you really want.”

My lip threatens to quiver, but I bite down hard on my tongue to make it stop. “This is what I want.”

“But I’ll forget you,” he seethes. “Again.”

Benicia’s soft voice sounds out. “You can’t stay a ghost, brother.”

He stares at her, and then a humorless laugh crawls up his throat as he tips his head back to shake his head at the ceiling. “You too, Beni?” he asks jokingly, but I can see the hurt in his eyes.

She gets up, uncurling her legs to stand in front of him. She’s at least a head shorter, but they look so much alike that it’s endearing. “You found me,” she says quietly. “You didn’t give up on me, even in death. I can’t let you give up on yourself.”

“Beni—”

“It’s okay, brother,” she says, voice low and soothing, a sad smile curling her grayish lips. “We’re going to be okay, because we’ll know that you’re okay.”

She’s right. So long as I know that Belren exists somewhere in the Veil, be it an angel or demon or one of the Veil minors, I will be okay.

I have to be.

Benicia gives him a smile and then backs away, clasping Soora’s hand.

With an agonized expression, Belren shakes his head, “I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can,” I tell him.

“But what will you do?”

My throat wants to close up, but I force myself to reply. “I’ll go back to work.”

“There’s a chance that I could never see you again. You get that, don’t you? I could be shoved down into hell as a demon.”

“You have much more angelic tendencies than demonic,” Raziel cuts in.

Both Belren and Jerkahf seem insulted.

“I do not,” Belren argues. “I was a thief all my mortal life.”

Raziel shrugs. “Angels do not lie, spirit. I see what I see. Besides, you would be lucky to be under my rule.”

“Oooh luck! Belren would be very good as a Lady Luck,” Emelle pipes in. At Raziel’s bewildered look, she says, “Oh, right. A Lord Luck. Whatever.”

Shaking his head, Belren shifts his body left so that I turn with him, giving us a semblance of privacy as he searches my face. “This is ludicrous and we both know it. Tell me right now not to do it.”

I swallow hard, trying to find the strength to convince him, but I can’t, so I shake my head instead.

A flash of anger crosses his face. “Why are you doing this?”

I can hear it.

The heartbreak.

His heart may not beat, but it still loves.

That’s apparent with the way he looks at his sister, and right now, with the way he’s looking at me with a different sort of love.

Which is exactly what I need to solidify my motivation. “I’m doing this because I won’t let you die for me again. No more sacrificing, Belren,” I say, and I hate that my voice cracks, revealing the emotion beneath, but I keep going. “I need you to live. I need you to do this for yourself, and for us. Because we love you.” When he goes still, I clear my throat so that there’s absolutely zero chance he misunderstands. “Because love you.”

He hesitates, eyes swinging back and forth between mine like a pendulum. “You love me, Pinky?”

Don’t cry.

“Yes,” I breathe. “So please—please do this. And then I’ll be able to breathe again. I’ll know you’re okay, wherever you are, that you’ll always exist.”

There isn’t a clock in this room, but I swear, I can hear one. Every tick that goes by has my anxiety teetering from one edge to the other. I don’t want him to do it, but I don’t want him to not do it, either.

“Are you certain?”

Not at all.

My fingers twist so hard that I scrape off some of the skin as I count in my head, refusing to think. Because if I think, I’ll blurt that I’m not sure at all, that I take it back, that I want him to stay.

But that’s selfish. This isn’t a real afterlife, and he deserves better. He already sacrificed himself for me once. I won’t let him do it again. It’s my turn to show him that he’s worth a sacrifice too.

“Yes.”

One…two…three…

His lips press into a thin line. “Trying to get rid of me already, Pinky?” he teases, but it lacks his usual flair.

Four…five…six…

“Are we doing this?” Jerkahf cuts in, dusting some ash off of his leathery wing. “I have things to do, people to torture.”

Emelle wrinkles her nose. “That’s aggressive,” she mutters.

“Are you ready, spirit?” Raziel cuts in, looking at Belren.

Belren reaches up to try to cup my face, and I shudder, but when his fingers go through my cheek, my eyes burn. He curses under his breath, and then his forehead tips down toward mine, silhouette sending a cool brush of air against my scalp. “I’m glad I jumped in front of you that day, Lex,” he whispers, and just like that, my own heart shatters. Crumbles into shards and then disintegrates into dust, becoming as intangible as him.

“So do this one last thing for me, Belren,” I say, bottom lip trembling, voice choked.

Ghosts can’t cry, but when he lifts his head again, the emotion is right there in his eyes.

Seven…eight…nine…

He glances at me and Benicia again, but when he sees the matching resolve on our faces, he nods to her and presses a hand to his heart. She sobs through a smile and mimics the movement, a tear rolling down her cheeks as Soora wraps an arm around her waist.

“Ready?” Raziel asks quietly, and Belren nods.

Breathe. Count. Don’t think.

Emelle squeezes my arm as she, Jerkahf, and Raziel all come around to circle Belren. They clasp hands and start to speak in low tones, but I’m too busy staring at Belren to pay attention to what they’re saying. Benicia appears at my side and slips her arm through mine, and I realize she’s trembling just as much as I am.

Breathe. Count. Don’t think.

A glow erupts from the trio surrounding Belren, and my eyes try to track the hazy lights of white and pink and black as it slips from their clasped palms and begins to surround my ghost.

My lips part, and it’s right there on the tip of my tongue to yell for them to stop, to rush into the circle and try to plaster myself against him. But I force myself to keep my knees locked, heels dug into the floor. It’s only Benicia’s hold that keeps me from falling.

As the vaporous light wraps around more of him, I see his throat bob, his gray eyes locked on me. “I’ll find you,” he says, so fiercely that I want to believe him. “Did you hear me, Pinky? I’ll find you.”

A sob ruptures out of me, and I can’t help it when my face scrunches up, my resolve cracking, because this hurts. This hurts so much that it surpasses anything physical, and I know I’ll never recover. Benicia is the only one holding me up, because my knees have already buckled.

The light swishes up, swallowing his body, filling the room, and then it takes over his face, until I can’t see his steady gray eyes anymore, and I squeeze my own shut tight. The light burns cold and sharp like a falling star, and then all at once, it swallows him completely and dies out.

When I open my eyes again, he’s gone, and all the dusty fragments of my heart have gone with him.

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