"Wel , we met in London at the beginning of the sixteenth century. I was at court just after the young Henry XVI I took the throne, and I was hunting demonic reapers who'd been impersonating nobles."

I couldn't stand how grim he seemed, and al I wanted him to do was smile. "Okay, now I want you to say al of that again, only in your old accent."

He laughed and I felt so much better. "What? No, I can't. It's been a long time. It's not natural for me anymore."

"I'm sure if you tried . . ."

"I've learned so many languages over the last few centuries that they al sort of blend together after a while."

"But tel me something about your life from back then. I want to know more about you."

He let out a tired breath. "What's there to tel ? The food was horrible and our clothes were too thick and hot in the summer. Humans died a lot. People got sick. Every few decades a plague claimed tens of thousands of lives. It wasn't real y a fun time."

I hadn't thought about that. "Yuck."

"Yeah. You learn about it in school, but they don't exactly have color photos from those days in your textbooks." His look was very serious. "Be thankful."

I made a face. "Okay, stop tel ing me depressing stuff from back then."

"You lived then, too. And long before. It's not like you missed out."

"I'l tel you what I am thankful for. My amnesia has conveniently erased any memories of the Black Plague. God truly works in mysterious ways."

His laugh was soft again and his gaze fel . That quiet pensiveness returned to his eyes. "That He does."

"But I don't want you to tel me about general things from the fourteenth century that I can find in any history book." I looked down at the chain of the crucifix tucked into his shirt.

"Tel me about your mom."

He hesitated before answering, and the patch of silence made me feel guilty for probing him.

"What do you want to know?" He spoke slowly, his words forced.

I was very sure he wasn't keen on divulging the secrets of his childhood, but maybe it would help him to talk about his mother. "What was she like?"

"An angelic vir like myself. Female reapers can have a child only once or twice every century, so births are rare occurrences. Whether a vir is angelic or demonic is determined by the mother's heritage."

"Is your mother stil alive?"

"I don't think so. I haven't seen her since I was young."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"It's al right. I've had a long time to accept it. I barely remember her face. It happened when I was so young."

If his mother's death didn't bother him much, then he wouldn't stil wear the cross she'd given him, and I'd never seen him without it. "What was her name?"

"Madeleine."

I repeated her name in my head. I tried to put a face to her name, and I imagined she had Wil 's rich dark chocolate hair and emerald eyes. She must have been as beautiful as he was. "Why do you think she's dead?"

"I left home when I got foolish and decided to hunt the demonic. I went home a decade or so after I'd left, and she was gone. Nathaniel took me in. He's always been like a big brother to me. Anyway, there hasn't been a trace of her since. It's likely she was kil ed by another reaper."

That struck me deeply. I imagined coming home one day to find my mom gone forever, and I couldn't take it. My eyes grew hot and tight. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, real y. I've had a long time to get over it. A lot of people I've loved have died over the centuries. That's just the world we live in. It's dark and gritty and dangerous."

"Do you know your father?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't know anything at al about him. My mother never talked about him. I think she loved him, but she wasn't proud of it, or something like that. I don't think their relationship lasted very long."

I leaned back on my hands and stared at nothing. Emotions stirred deep within me--mostly uncertainty and a little bit of fear--as I tried to focus my thoughts. Wil was a good reaper who fought alongside me against the bad reapers. If the only thing that made him good was his heritage, then what was enough to make him go bad? What real y was the difference between Wil and the reapers I hunted? Was there a chance for the demonic reapers to redeem themselves? Was there a chance they could live alongside humans peaceful y? The car-size Ursids and Lupines probably wouldn't be easily accepted into society--I doubted anyone would want to adopt one from the pound--

but was it possible for them to coexist without kil ing people and dragging their souls to Hel ?

He reached forward to cup my cheek, the touch surprising me. "Please understand that no matter what I am or what has happened in the past, I am yours. I am devoted to you above al else, including my own life."

I exhaled after holding my breath for what felt like forever.

"That's pretty heavy, Wil ."

His expression was impassioned, and the backs of his fingers brushed the side of my neck. "It is a burden I am glad to carry."

He held his hand there for another moment before he pul ed back and looked away. I felt an urge to reach for him but suppressed it. His face was so vulnerable then, and I realized how much I cared about him. I could only remember meeting him recently, but I also knew he'd been my friend for centuries. That was something I couldn't remember, but I felt it in my bones. My eyes may have been unused to his face, but my soul knew him better than it knew anything else in the world.