"So you test all the humans?"
"Yes." His voice was final. "And if they fail…"
"They die."
"They're simply eliminated before the natural order of things happens. Eventually they die. Take Mason's mate, for example. Lovely girl, obsessed with the wolf — dead."
My eyes burned with unshed tears. "Ara…" I hated saying her name. "She didn't love Ethan."
"In her selfish heart, I believe she thought she was in love with him. She loved him in the best way she knew how. She loved herself more."
I nodded, sadness piercing my chest, making it hard to breathe.
"More questions, or shall I simply touch you and be done with it?"
Ignoring him, I shoved another book in its place. "Stephanie says you aren't bad."
He said nothing.
I thought he'd left, but when I glanced over. He was staring into the space above my head as if in a trance. "Stephanie." Her name sounded different on his lips. But as soon as he'd uttered it, he closed his eyes and shook his head as if he didn't want to talk about it anymore.
"I'm not bad." His eyes turned white. "But I'm not good either."
"What? So you just hang out in the middle?"
"When it suits me." He smiled then stood. "Tell me, do you believe yourself strong enough to resist a Dark One's touch?"
"I did before." I stepped back from him. "Before I was mated to Ethan."
"His blood makes you strong. His mark… stronger than before." Cassius tilted his head. "But the human heart is the strongest of all. It surpasses all immortal claims."
"My heart is my own."
Cassius sighed, his eyes sad. "And that is the problem with humans, is it not? They continuously lament not being able to find love, and when they do, they still refuse to relinquish their most prized possession. Oh, they give their bodies, their souls, but their hearts?" His chest almost grazed mine. "They keep for themselves."
"Why?" I blurted.
He stilled, tilting his head to the side, making himself look more predatory, like an animal ready to pounce. "Fear."
A gasp escaped my lips.
"Fear," he repeated, "is not welcome here."
And suddenly my world made sense.
"I wonder," Cassius whispered, his breath freezing the air in front of me, "when the time comes, will you also choose yourself? Give into fear, or finally sacrifice the one last shred of humanity you have in order to gain immortality?"
I opened my mouth to answer.
"About done?" Drystan called then appeared around the corner.
My lips were freezing, probably blue, but Cassius was nowhere to be seen.
"Genesis?" he repeated. "Are you alright?"
"Yes." I found my voice. "Fine. I'm almost done."
"Good."
He walked back around the corner. I lifted another book just as the barest of whispers flew past my ear.
"Until you sleep…"
Ethan
I knew he'd visited her the minute her eyes met mine. She should still be on fire for me; instead, she felt — warm.
Yet her heart still pounded for me. That was all that mattered. That's what I told myself as I gripped the steering wheel and drove us toward her mother's residence.
"Cassius." I hated that she said his name with such familiarity. "You said he's like your king?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Who does he report to?"
"The archangels." I sighed. "When they care enough to check in on us."
"Are they bad?"
"Humans — and please don't take offense to this — like to categorize things so they can better understand them. If something is bad, they stay away. If it's good, it must be safe. But is chocolate really good? Perhaps to you, but what if someone's allergic? What's worse, what if you gorge yourself? Then something that was once good in your eyes is suddenly very bad because it has the power to kill you. The same goes for immortals. Are all Dark Ones bad? No. But they aren't good. Are archangels bad? Yes. In a way they can be very bad, but they also have such goodness that it's blinding. What you should concern yourself with is not trying to understand, because you never will."
Genesis let out a frustrated sigh. "Easier said than done."
"If I told you he was bad," I reached for her hand, "you may stay away longer, but it may also cause fear to grow in your heart, and fear is not an emotion I want you to feed."
She nodded. "I'm afraid now."
"Of me?"
"My mother." Her eyes were distant, locked on the house I'd just pulled up to.
It looked better, as if someone had made repairs. The shutters no longer fell from the window, and the porch had been rebuilt.
"Say the word, and I end her life," I vowed. "Now hold your head high."
Genesis nodded wordlessly and followed me out of the car to the door.
Her mother was by herself; I picked up only her scent. I knocked.
Footsteps creaked against the wood floor. And a short woman with graying brown hair appeared in the door. Her eyes were bland, her skin wrinkled. Life had been hard on her, or maybe that was humanity's punishment for being such a horrible mother.