He huffed. “I’m getting a room at the next town. I’m not dealing with your attitude the entire time I’m risking my ass for you. You at least owe me a good mood and a continental breakfast.”

I rolled my eyes and ignored his remark. “There better be a room with two beds. If we have to spoon in a double, I’ll be even grumpier.”

“I hog the blankets anyway.”

“I kick crotches in my sleep.”

A small smile curved his lips and he caught me watching him from the corner of my eye. I pinned my gaze back to the road. “So we sleep for a few hours, grab a bagel in the morning, and head out. Deal?”

“Deal.”

He managed to find us a moderately not-seedy motel in a small town with a few stoplights. Once we checked in, I dragged my duffle bag into the room and tossed it on the bed closest to the heat register and put the vents on full blast. It was almost June, and yet Colorado hadn’t caught on.

I hugged my arms to my chest and, exhausted, flopped onto my bed.

“You need the shower?” Cadan asked me.

“Not yet,” I grumbled. “I want to just lie here for the rest of my life.”

He huffed a short laugh. “All right. I’ll be out in a few.”

I must have drifted off because I opened my eyes what seemed like seconds later and he was already out. He was bare from the waist up and ruffling through his bag for a shirt. I tried not to stare too hard, deciding then and there that reapers just automatically came with Photoshopped chests, arms, and abs. Ridiculous.

“All yours,” he said without looking at me.

I grabbed the baggie filled with my shampoo and stuff, and before I disappeared into the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of Cadan’s muscled back out the corner of my eye. My breath caught. Burn scars were shredded down his back, a marbled and gleaming slash of them. They mirrored Marcus’s scars almost exactly, and I knew only divine fire could cause such a permanent injury. Cadan wore scars from angelfire.

He glanced over his shoulder at me before tugging a shirt over his head. “Don’t forget that I know what we’re about to walk into,” he said, understanding what I’d been staring at. “I never fear anything unless I have a good reason to.”

I said nothing, or rather I could think of nothing to say, and I closed the bathroom door behind me. I paused for a minute, absorbing what I quickly began to understand. Only angels could wield angelfire, and the only angel Cadan knew besides me was Antares. She had done that to him, nearly killed him.

I undressed and ran the water as hot as I could stand it before hopping into the shower. The water practically scalded me, but I savored it. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t think of anything else but what would happen tomorrow. Only when we found Antares would I know if I could save Will’s life. What if Antares wasn’t there? What if she refused to or couldn’t help me? What if Marcus or Ava called to tell me Will had died in the night? As tears fought to break free, I stood under the water and let it hammer my face, the stinging heat and pressure keeping me from concentrating too hard on the horrible thoughts. If I cried, Cadan would surely hear me with his stupid super reaper hearing and then he’d bug me with questions. Why was it that people always asked you about why you’re crying? If you’re crying, then something shitty happened and you don’t want to think about it. In this case especially, it was better for me to be left alone.

The hot water had turned my skin pink, but it didn’t hide my puffy eyes and generally crappy appearance as I’d hoped. If I was lucky, Cadan would keep his questions to himself. I combed out the tangles in my hair and let the damp curtain fall over my shoulders. My pajamas never felt more comfortable. I felt so sore and tired everywhere, but my journey had barely even begun.

When I left the bathroom, I plopped onto on the edge of my bed and Cadan turned off the TV from his seat on his own bed. He moved to sit across from me and rested his elbows on his knees, peering into my face studiously.

“It’d be stupid to ask if you’re okay,” he said softly.

I gave him a pathetic smile. “Good thing you’re not stupid.” I waited for him to respond, but he was quiet. “Would it be stupid to ask if you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I promise. And everything else will be fine too. Antares will be where I left her. It’s been a few years, but I’m sure she’ll remember me.”

“You left that big an impression, huh?” I joked.

“In a way.” His tone was serious.

“What did she have that you tried to kill her for?” I was just as grim that time.

“I didn’t want it,” he replied. “Bastian did. He wanted the grimoire. She didn’t have it, but I thought she was lying. Bastian ordered me to bring him the book and I’d been tracking her down for years, so there was no alternative, and I was desperate. Of course she beat me to a pulp, but she’d tossed me beyond the reach of her bindings and couldn’t finish me off. I was even luckier to walk away alive from Bastian after he was through disciplining me.”

“It couldn’t have been easy growing up with him, and then working for him.”

He wore a distant look, licking his lips as if tasting for the response he wanted. “I suppose. A birth to any reaper is rare, but things are different for the demonic. My mother worked for Bastian, following the Christian armies invading the Holy Land. She had a taste for the most pious of souls. It was easy for her. She was good at hunting humans and fighting the angelic. When I was born, she went right back to it and I was handed off to others to be raised, as most demonic children are. Bastian believed that his fatherly duties stopped at teaching me what he deemed important life lessons. He taught me how to fight, how to kill, and how to use what power he gave me through his blood. He was cruel, but if he hadn’t been, then I’d have died in battle a long time ago. But then again, look at Will.”