“Death was a leech; no matter which side of the spectrum you were on, either dead or alive, it fed. It either acquired your soul or devoured all your joyful emotions.”

“Gabby,” Jenna cried. “It’s so horrible. I can’t believe this happened.”“Jenna,” I said in a soothing voice, “I’m alive and okay. No worries.”She sniffled into the phone. “No, it’s not that.”I waited a beat. “What?”“The bridesmaid dresses are all wrong!” she wailed.“Wait a second,” I said. “You aren’t upset over my being dead for four days?”“I knew you’d be fine,” she explained, brushing off the subject. “But these dresses? I don’t know what to do. They’re the wrong color, and they’re hideous!” She went into a hysterical fit of tears.”

“At the sound of her name, Lucia’s blue eyes honed in on me. She cocked her head to the side as if puzzled. “Why me?” she wondered.“Lucia, you exploded with power after Ehno was killed.” I shot Ehno an apologetic look. “I felt your sorrow before I even knew something was wrong. It hit me like a freight train of boulders. You made the sky rain fireballs with red lightning. Need I say more?”

“To see someone you love in so much pain—especially emotional pain that can’t be remedied—was the worst form of torture.”

“Hope is a demon. It convinces you to believe in something better, persuades you the outcome will be favorable, and whispers eagerly in your ear that the miracle you so desperately need will happen. Then it crushes you. Hope only leaves you fallen and bleeding in its aftermath, nothing more than a pile of misery and desolation.”

“I moved closer as I dragged myself through the frozen bracken. “Who’s coming?” My voice trembled like an autumn leaf in the wind.“Your Angels,” he replied breathily right before he crumpled to the ground in a great heap.My body went into sensory overload. I was hurt, angry, broken, sad, terrified, and . . . hopeful. He said my Angels were coming.”

“Death. It was something I had to think about once. Weird, right? Strange that death was ever an inevitable end, but it wasn’t anymore. Not really. I eluded it. Tricked it. It was an odd concept—the world aged, moved forward, yet I . . . didn’t.”