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Xen easily caught up to him with two wide strides, hands still in his pocket. “The Old Temple.”

Evan halted abruptly in his steps before his wide eyes trailed to Xen. “We’re going to theOld Temple? Now? Why?”

It was nearly evening, and that place was infamous for being extremely haunted by notjusthuman spirits.

Creatures of the dark, bloodthirsty monsters, and beasts from hell lurked in its periphery—or at least that’s what the townspeople warned overexcited tourists about. That was the reason the area around the Old Temple was deserted, houses dating back to over a hundred years abandoned for good.

Among the many tales of the fantasy-rich history of Emberlyn, a recent addition stood out: the story of the last priest who’d looked after the Old Temple some seventy years ago. He’d died mysteriously at the age of ninety-eight, leaving behind a cryptic note. His body had been found in bed, lying in a peaceful sleeping position—with a broken neck. The note clutched in his fists read:

Light from heaven, fire of hell,

Ashes of a beast under a spell.

Broken in part, his head and heart,

Like a burning star, he fell.

Hush, don’t make a sound.

Hush, don’t lift the veil.

Lest the beast of beasts

Rises to hail.

There was still some debate whether he was really gifted with clairvoyance or just delusional beyond cure. Perhaps he had a vivid imagination, and the last note was a product of his mind reeling on his deathbed.

But if what the tales read was true and the clairvoyant priest had witnessed a premonition before death, it was still a mystery what exactly he saw. And how far away in the future it was. Because it’d been over seven decades since his death and nothing like abeast of beastshad risen from hell yet.

“The relic,” Xen said, eyes narrowed at the sky like he was internally cursing the heavens. He didn’t provide any further information on what this relic had to do with the Old Temple, so Evan decided to add one plus one.

“Is that relic inside the Old Temple?” Evan asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay. But can’t this wait?”

“No,” Xen turned and continued walking on.

“Why not?” Evan quickly followed, trying to coax the moody guy. “You’ve waited this long, can’t we put it off for another week?”

“No.”

A vein bulged on Evan’s temple, and he gritted his teeth before blowing out a breath to calm himself. Reasoning, logic, a kick in the guts—somethinghadto get through the demon’s thick skull.

Reining in his irritation, Evan fell into step beside Xen, discreetly glaring at him. “Look, for all we know, Aaron might be…dying right now. You’re the one who found his phone and brought it to me, so you must understand how important this is to me. And if something happens to him becauseyouwere too stubborn to—” Evan sucked in a breath as his voice rose involuntarily, then dropped his tensed shoulders with a sigh. For a long moment, he bit his tongue, then let out the words he’d been suppressing. “He is my only friend. I have to find him, preferably before the Reaping Moon.”

Delos must have prompted it for a reason. It was like a warning sign, glowing bright and red over Evan’s head, threatening to slip off the hook and crush him.

“What do you know about the Reaping Moon?” Xen asked.

The sudden question dissolved some of Evan’s anguish over Xen’s noncooperative attitude. “Is there anything I should know?”

The sky darkened quickly under the influence of the upcoming storm clouds as the two approached the riverbank. “Several portals to the Dark Realm open during Reaping Moons. Makes it easier for reapers to deliver souls.”

The Dark Realm—commonly known as Hell—was different from the Demon Realm, which lay between the human world and Hell.

“So, it’s true about grim reapers walking the land of the living with lanterns to harvest wandering souls on the Reaping Moon?” Evan’s eyebrows twitched with renewed interest. He couldn’t help it. His curiosity about such things had driven him into troublesome situations, but like an innate reaction, his senses bloomed to receive more intel about the matter.