“It’s my crest,” he said.

“I didn’t know angels had crests.”

“We don’t. It’s more of an adopted crest. There are many legends surrounding ravens. One that I particularly like is the myth that they steal souls. The story goes that if you spot a raven watching you, your soul is his to claim. Many cultures believe ravens are physical omens, bringers of death and ill will.” Dorian walked further into the room, stopping just beside me. He looked up and continued, “So many people fear death when it’s just as natural as birth. They’re unable to see the resemblance through the cloud of their sadness. I am the raven and he is me—the soul stealer. When spirits first see me, they realize their lives have ended and Death has come to collect them.” He stopped talking as if he realized he’d revealed more than he wanted to.

“You should get to bed. We have an appointment early in the morning.” He turned to leave.

“Dorian?”

He stopped, but didn’t turn to look at me or say anything. Walking up to him, I moved around his body so I could see his face.

“You said by saving me there was a price to pay. What was it?” This question had nagged my mind since he told me, but I’d been a little preoccupied to ask.

Dorian hesitated, finally looking up at me. “You are shielded from me for as long as you live. I will not be able to sense your soul or your death.”

I thought about his words for a moment. “But you said you tracked my soul to Jackson Square and you weren’t able to see my fate before you saved me.”

Dorian took a ragged breath as if annoyed I’d found holes in his story. “I had a spirit follow you when you left the restaurant, a local ghost I’ve dealt with before. And the reason Amara shielded you from me is because…” He stared at me, his mouth tightening into a hard line. “Because I care about you. I went against the nature of the universe by not allowing you to die.” He laughed harshly. “I just got done saying how people fear death because it means loss and when I was about to lose something I care about, I did everything in my power to ensure I didn’t.” He looked away, his hand scrubbing over his face. “I was shielded from you before because Amara knew my feelings and knew I would do everything I could to save you from your fate, and she was right. I did exactly what she expected. It was a test and I failed. Now your death will forever be a blind spot to me.”

“But you can still sense my soul. So I’m not completely shielded from you.”

“If you’re close,” Dorian said. “But if you get too far away I cannot latch onto it. As soon as you’re away I lose all sensation of you.”

His earlier anger made sense now. If I were to leave with Aiden he wouldn’t be able to feel my soul or know if I was alive or dead. The fact that he even cared that much was heart wrenching.

“Dorian, I—”

He held up a hand, his lips straining to form a small smile. “You know the truth now. No need for explanation to console me. I’m fine, and if you chose to leave with him, then I will wish you the best. Goodnight, Gwen.”

Chapter Sixteen

The clanging of cabinet doors woke me up. My eyelids lifted slowly and I blinked against the sun streaming through the French doors. My cat was curled up next to my chest. I propped myself up and looked over the back of the couch. Dorian was in the kitchen, his hair damp from showering. He was dressed in worn jeans and a white t-shirt. Damn if he didn’t look scrumptious.

“Oh good, you’re up,” he said, his cocky grin in place. At least he wasn’t still in a bad mood.

“You had a lot to do with that,” I told him. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine. Get up, we have stuff to do today.”

I pulled my legs around, sitting on the edge of the sofa. I had accidently fallen asleep in the living room again. My cat jumped off, scurrying away. Dorian walked into the living room and sat down a bag that read Café Du Monde and a tall Styrofoam cup of coffee.

“Best beignets around. You haven’t experienced Nawlens until you’ve tried these.” He sat on the opposite couch, leaning back and resting his ankle on his bent knee. I reached for the bag, opening it and smiling as the smell of fried dough and powdered sugar greeted me. I slipped a beignet out and didn’t hesitate to take a bite, closing my eyes from the sensations of sugary goodness coating my taste buds.

“What do we have to do today?” I reached my hand up, squeezing my shoulder. I spent last night watching reruns and thinking about Aiden and Dorian. Falling asleep on the couch had put a crick in my neck. By the time I fell asleep I was confident with my choice and ready to execute it.

“We have an appointment at Marie Laveaus’ at ten. Eat up.”

I took another bite, praying the moan in my mind didn’t slip out. “The voodoo shop?”

“That’s the one.”

“You think a little voodoo is going to slow down the Veil?” I took a small sip of my coffee and then popped the rest of the beignet into my mouth.

“No, but the dagger I’m picking up may.”

I stared at him with confusion. “Since when do you need weapons? Can’t you just do that bizarre thing where smoke floats out of their bodies?” I paused. “By the way, what the hell do you do to them?”

Dorian smiled as if amused by my lack of knowledge. “The dagger is for you. I’m Death, the soul stealer. Use your imagination.”

I pursed my lips and nodded. “So, you just rip their souls out of their bodies?”

“Yes and with the rogues, if the host’s body doesn’t have a soul then the demon cannot possess it.”

Dorian had killed a few rogues, but I never even thought about the people that the demons were possessing.

“So actually you’re not killing the demons; you’re killing the people their inhabiting.”

Dorian’s head moved up and down in a slow nod. “Demons cannot be killed. The best I can do is eradicate them from their host.”

The thought of lingering demons without a body to inhabit gave me shivers. Would they just hop into another body or go back to the ones who had summoned them?

“I’m empowering my spirit walker-ness, but I will never be comfortable with demons.”

“As well you shouldn’t. Now stop stuffing your face and go take a shower. We have to be at the shop in thirty minutes.”

* * *

The sidewalks were full of people, tourists I assumed. The sun was hidden behind thick gray clouds, the smell of rain in the air. The temperature had dropped just enough that a jacket would have been nice. Unfortunately, Dorian hadn’t grabbed me one when he was racing to pack me a bag.

“When we were in the realm of the dead, and I used my magic to make those boards, I felt drained. Is that how my magic is going to make me feel from now on?”

“If you use too much, yes. Eventually it’ll leave altogether.”

I tested it, ordering what little power I had left into my hands. My skin tingled for a few seconds before the feeling faded away. Not having it would take some time to get used to.

Dorian and I walked in silence. My eyes trailed over Bourbon Street, the tall townhouses with wrought iron balconies and colorful overhanging flowers. Businesses lined either side of the road, people filling the sidewalks. Dorian wrapped an arm around my shoulders to pull me out of the way of a passing crowd. When they had passed, he dropped his arm.

“Do you still think Holly is the one who hired the Veil?” I asked after a while.

Dorian’s jaw flexed, his lips a tight straight line. “I wouldn’t put it past her, but at this point it could also be the VC. It would save a helluva lot of time if I could just storm in and wipe them all out.”

“Why can’t you?” I asked. “Not that I want you to, just curious.”

“Breaking the rules has consequences. I’m already paying the price of saving your life. I’d hate to see what the Fates would do if I started killing people before they were destined to die.”

I was trying really hard to not think of how I should be dead. It was my time to go. Had Dorian not stepped in I would be lying in a silk-lined coffin as my spirit-self watched over the grievers. He’d given me a second chance at life and I was repaying him by running off with Aiden? Even I hated myself sometimes.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “But the punishment isn’t really all that bad, and I appreciate what you did more than you know.”

Dorian snorted, glancing down at me and then away. “I do know how much you appreciate it. I’ve spent millennia listening to dead saps beg me not to take their souls.” His mouth snapped shut and I noticed his fingers curled and uncurled as if agitated by something.

“As for the punishment,” he continued. “It’s not just lost sight on some random person. I care about you and now I have no clue what will happen to you. You could end up running off with Aiden and I’d have no way of knowing if he drained you dry, unless I ran into your spirit.” He paused again. “I need to get over it, over you. Imagine, Death caring for someone. It’s ludicrous.”

I was taken aback by his words. “You’re mad because you care about me?” It made me smile a little bit, not because I was happy to hear he cared—I knew he did, but because he was pouting like a child about it. Just to mess with him I reached down for his hand, bringing it up so the palm was facing me. The motion caused us both to stop. Dorian looked down, confusion causing his brows to dip together.

“Circle, circle, dot, dot, now you have your cootie shot.” I circled a pattern with my fingertip on his palm. “The spell is broken. You are now free to not give a shit about anything or anyone. Go forth, Mr. Grumpy, and visit the beds of willing females.” I smiled for good measure, releasing his hand. I began walking again, crossing my arms to keep my hands warm. I was smiling to myself when Dorian caught up with me.

“Hilarious,” he deadpanned. “Hey, if this whole spirit walker thing doesn’t work out, you can become a comedian. It’s good to have a backup plan.”