The Beautiful and the Damned (22 page)

“I don’t like people who step on graves,” the guy said. Joe looked down and saw he
was standing on top of a cracked tombstone buried in the ground. Swearing, he took
a step back. The guy smirked, then nodded at Cyn. “Hey, Cyn. Abbey will be happy to
see you again.”

A brief image of black curly hair and blue eyes flashed through Cyn’s mind.

“He’s one of the Shades that guard the cemetery,” Thirteen said to Joe.

Suddenly, a female voice drifted over from the iron-gated plot behind them. “See you
tomorrow, Mr. Irving. Caspian? Where are you? I have an idea for this new perfume
I want to make, but I need some—”

A girl holding a basket of flowers stepped through the gate and onto the path. She
was wearing an old-fashioned lacy black dress and had a red ribbon in her dark, curly
hair. Her blue eyes grew huge when she saw them standing there. “Cyn! What are you
doing here?”

Dropping the flowers, the girl ran to hug Cyn.

Cyn was almost knocked over by the force of her excitement, but as soon as they touched,
memories started flooding back. “Abbey? I don’t understand. . . . I have all of these
memories of you, but it’s like . . . two different things happened. You were alive,
and we went to school together. But then everyone thought you were dead. That can’t
be right.”

Abbey pulled back and smiled. Then Caspian came over, wrapping an arm around her waist
to pull her closer to him. Abbey tilted her head back to glance up at him. The look
that
passed between them spoke of a love that was stronger than time.

Cyn had to glance away. It reminded her too much of Hunter.

“Both memories
are
right,” Abbey said. “We became friends at school because my best friend, Kristen,
died. Vincent Drake was the one responsible for her death.” A dark look crossed her
face, and she scowled. “The other Revenants helped me cross over and reversed time
so that Kristen could come back and I could take her place. On the night that Caspian
and I completed each other, Vincent tried to use you to stop me. But it didn’t work.
Caspian and I ended up together. Here.”

“The other Revenants . . .,” Thirteen said. “Let me guess, Acacia and Uriel?”

Caspian nodded. “And Kame and Sophiel. Even Vincent’s partner was here, Monty.”

“Actually, I think I remember seeing
you
before,” Abbey said to Thirteen. “When Cacey and Uri took me with them to go find
Monty at the insane asylum, Gray’s Folly. I remember thinking it was strange because
you were acting like you worked there, but you wore black leather pants.”

Caspian raised an eyebrow at her. “You noticed his
pants
?”

“Well, he’s . . . uh, he’s wearing them now.” She gave him a weak smile. “So it sort
of just jogged my memory. And you have to admit, it’s pretty weird for a nurse’s aide
to be wearing leather pants.”

“I was looking for a psychic who was supposed to be there,” Thirteen said.

Caspian bent down to whisper in Abbey’s ear, but Cyn could hear what he was saying.
“I can get some leather pants.”

Abbey blushed and shook her head. “Trust me,” she whispered back. “You don’t need
them.”

They shared another look, but Thirteen interrupted them. “So, you’re telling me
five
Revenants were here? To take care of one Shade crossover? That’s a lot of firepower.”

“They were supposed to be taking care of Vincent, too,” Caspian replied.

“Yeah, well, they didn’t. Because he ended up in her.” He pointed over at Cyn.

Abbey inhaled sharply. “How did that happen?”

“Apparently, I’m an Echo,” Cyn said. “Which means I’m a conduit for souls of the dead,
and it just so happened that he was one of the dead. Lucky me.”

“We need to find out exactly where the Shade crossing happened. The last place that
Vincent was corporeal,” Thirteen said. “So we can remove him.”

“It happened at the river,” Abbey replied. “We can take you there.”

Thirteen stepped to the side. “After you.”

Abbey and Caspian led them down the hill and across the grounds, moving with the easy
confidence of two people who were familiar with every inch of the cemetery. They walked
hand in hand, and Cyn followed behind. But eventually, Abbey started falling back
until she and Cyn were walking next to each other.

“Hey, how’s Ben?” Cyn asked. “I haven’t seen him since graduation.”

“He’s good. He and Kristen are together now, actually. She opened a bath-and-body
shop downtown called Abbey’s Hollow. They stop by here a lot. It’s nice to still have
the chance to see them, you know?” She laughed. “Even if they can’t see me.”

“You and Caspian just . . . stay here, then?”

“We live here. There’s a cottage on the far side of the cemetery. I wish you could
see it. It’s
amazing
. Right out of a fairy tale.”

“Fairy tales were never my thing,” Cyn said. “Judging by the looks flying between
you and Caspian, though, it’s definitely
your
thing.”

“It’s weird.” Abbey paused for a moment. “I almost feel like I was born for this.
Born to be the caretaker of this cemetery and to be with Caspian. Did you ever have
a feeling that you were just meant to do something?”

Cyn looked down. “No.”

“If you ever do get that feeling, grab on to it and don’t let
go. No matter what anyone says. It’s worth it.” They walked in silence for a while
longer until Abbey said, “So, what’s the deal with him?” She gestured over her shoulder
at Thirteen. “He’s ridiculously good looking, but
wow
. Intense.”

“And arrogant and annoying and thinks he’s right about everything.” Cyn shook her
head. “You don’t know the half of it. He’s not even really all
that
good looking. He’s freakishly tall, and he only wears black. And a motorcycle? He
drives a motorcycle, by the way. A rusty, old junk bucket. But it’s vintage. Supposedly.”

“Mmmmhmm . . .” Abbey glanced down at the ground, trying to hide her grin. “Sounds
like fun.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it fun. I’d call it—”

“It happened there,” Caspian suddenly said, pointing at the edge of the river.

Cyn came to a stop. She remembered it now. This was the place where Vincent had tried
to take her hostage.

Abbey leaned in and gave Cyn a hug. “Come back and see us anytime. Good luck with
everything. ” She glanced over at Thirteen. “And good luck with
him
, too. Something tells me you’re going to need it.”

A
s Abbey and Caspian headed back to the cemetery, Cyn’s stomach tightened into knots.
It was pitch black, and she could only see a couple of feet in front of her. She started
pacing back and forth.
God, I need a cigarette.

“So, what now?” she said. “Is it going to be like a séance? I’ve done those before.”

Joe sat his orange toolbox on the ground and started digging around in it.

“It’s not like a séance,” Thirteen said. “But you can sit down. It won’t take much
longer.”

He sat down too, closing his eyes. A look of concentration came over his face, and
the burn marks on his arms
started rising to the surface. His horns started growing too.

“Hey,” Cyn said. She glanced over at Joe. He was pulling out some long-ass needles
and a bunch of little glass bottles from the toolbox. A set of white jumper paddles
were next. “What are those for? What are you going to do to me?”

Thirteen opened his eyes. They were red. “I’m going to restart the count.”

Comprehension suddenly dawned on her. “That means you have to end it first. Right?”

He didn’t answer.

“Which means . . . you have to kill me.”

“And bring you back,” Thirteen said. “That’s why I brought Joe. He’s an EMT.”

Cyn gave him a doubtful look.

“It’s the only way.”

So I’m going to die. But if I don’t do it, I’ll end up dying anyway. After the seventh
soul has passed through me. Or after Vincent finally succeeds in getting rid of me.

Joe tested the paddles and then nodded at Avian. “All clear. We’re good to go.”

Thirteen stood up and walked over to Cyn. His hair was loose around his face, and
he was dressed in black leather pants and a long black duster. He would have looked
like an average
biker if it wasn’t for the fully grown horns, red eyes, and scars covering his arms.
It was only slightly terrifying to look at him as he stood over top of her.

“Ready?”

Cyn closed her eyes.
This is it. You can do it. This is going to work, and everything will be fine. Once
Vincent’s gone, you’ll be back to normal.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m ready.”

She opened her eyes again and he leaned over her, both hands outstretched.

“Wait!”

He pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

Cyn glanced over at Joe. “Can you give us a minute? We need to speak in private.”

Joe let out an aggravated sigh. “Seriously? Do you have any idea how late it is? I
have to work tomorrow, and I need to—”

“Joe!” Thirteen growled.

“Fine, fine. I’ll be right over here.” He moved a couple of feet away and turned his
back to them.

Cyn looked up at Thirteen.
He deserves to know what you did to Father Montgomery. And if you don’t come out on
the other side of this, then at least he can have some peace.

“I want you to know . . .” Her mouth went dry, and she had to try again. “I want you
to know that in case this doesn’t work,
I—I really like your wings. They’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.” She
closed her eyes again and then opened them. “No. That’s not—”

Her voice died off, and he leaned closer. “What?” she heard him say.

But it sounded like he was far away, not right beside her. Darkness blurred the edges
of her vision sharp and fast, and Cyn realized she was losing herself again. Vincent
wanted out, and he wanted out
now
.

I have to tell him. What if I don’t get another chance?

Cyn cleared her throat. She was losing sound again. And were her eyes open or closed?
It was too dark to tell.

All she knew was that right before Avian pressed his hands to her chest and filled
her with a thousand volts of electricity, she finally got the chance to say, “I was
the one who killed Father Montgomery, Avian.” She didn’t know why she called him by
the name Father Montgomery had used, but it felt right. “I’m sorry.”

A
s Avian pressed his hands to Cyn’s heart and prepared to shock it into cardiac arrest,
she whispered her confession about Father Montgomery. And the demon side of him slipped.

All the hellfires of rage and hatred and pure damnation boiled over and poured straight
out of him in a jolt of electricity so strong that it leapt from his hands and seared
the flesh from her bones. A blue-white spark arced between them and popped loudly.
She convulsed violently beneath him, and he was thrown backward.

Avian flew through the air and landed hard about twenty feet away. His left arm was
twisted at an impossible angle, and he could tell right away that it was out of the
socket. Sitting up,
he used the ground as leverage to push it back in and ignored the screaming pain inside
his head.

One bone-crunching sound later, his arm was good as new again.

“Joe,” he called. “Is she okay? Is she back yet?”

Joe was bent over Cyn, frantically working on her. He stabbed her with a needle from
a bottle marked
ATROPINE
and then switched to another bottle marked
EPINEPHRINE
. “It’s too much,” he yelled back. “It was too much! Too many volts.”

He tried the paddles, but they didn’t work either, so he started manual compressions
on her chest, counting the rhythm out loud and stopping to give her breaths. He did
this again and again, but Avian realized that it was taking too long. Too much time
had passed.