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The glint of understanding behind her umber stare. The glossy ringlets that cascaded to her cheekbones when her fingers went to grip mine. The way her voice seemed to soothe me and challenge me at the same time—and I’d never hear it again. I thought back to the first session we’d had—did she get enough time with the goddaughter she’d mentioned?

I’d thought this would bring closure, but confusion scrambled my thoughts. Why did she have to die? Did the Night Stalkers take her out, or was it the demon posing as her replacement? The demon the guy I would not name or ever think of again was working with. A slow exhale hissed past my teeth. I mentally swatted at the images of him flooding my brain, especially the one from the Boardwalk when he seemed to willingly hand me my necklace.

Anger seared my veins, manifesting into something as vital as blood. It numbed my other senses, but it also nourished an animalistic part of me that wanted to scream and claw at the dirt. He’d snapped my heart in two as if it were a fawn’s leg, and?—

A faint command echoed across my mind. Take a deep breath. I stopped spiraling and let Dr. Fairmore’s last words to me sink in, as the inhale filled my lungs. I held it and counted to ten. This wasn’t even about him.

Massaging my temples, I released a slow, controlled exhale. The anger threatened to bury me deeper than the dead. But I needed there to be meaning. I needed to understand.

Was Akosua behind all this? Why? What did she see in Chthonia that made her denounce the Watchers, especially when she was so insistent about the potential fallout if one of them left? How could there be any good in Chthonia’s vision if it meant innocent people hurting and dying? I couldn’t deny the sting of responsibility that came with this line of thinking. If my mom hadn’t followed her stupid, smitten heart, none of this would be happening. Dr. Fairmore wouldn’t be in a grave. Javi wouldn’t be in a coma. I wouldn’t be nursing a broken heart. Demons wouldn’t be trying to take over Mortal Earth. And I wouldn’t be left here wondering how I could possibly rectify my mom’s actions when I couldn’t do something as simple as pass high school econ.

I couldn’t even hold a job at this point—no-showing my shifts over these past few weeks gave Tom all the reason he’d been looking for to fire me.

Why was everything so fucked up?

A tepid gust wove through the gnarled oak trees that lined the pale gravel paths, shaking the leaves and acorns free. Orange flickered before my eyes. I held my hand over my brows to shield the glare and tracked the flash of color up into the sky. To my surprise, my lips twitched upwards as I watched the monarch butterfly coast on the breeze. I lifted a shaky finger as I rose, offering it a perch. It floated nearer, its toothpick-thin legs tickling my skin.

I actually smiled at the sun reflecting off its wings while it opened and quickly closed them.

My insides fluttered as the butterfly drifted to the rounded top of the headstone. And as my eyes narrowed in on its intricate pattern, my brain also picked up on all the other intricacies of the grounds I’d initially looked over—the white puffs dotting the air not dandelions at all, but winged spirits that seemed to be forged out of light. They hummed, bobbing between the dead and the mourning in blessing. And there was a reason some of the stones caught the glare more than the others, forcing my hand to my brows—tiny hobgoblins, so round and gray they could have been passed off as rocks, polished the markers until their little nubs blistered and bared their fangs at any that tried to breach their plots.

I blinked, and it was like a film rolled over my eyes, making the cemetery perfectly quiet and solitary again.

A fissure of hope cracked my hardened heart. I’d never be able to undo my mom’s actions, but she’d made a sacrifice for love. For me. While I couldn’t change the past, I did have a future, one I’d been all too willing to throw away. There was Chet’s tribunal, which I still hadn’t technically committed to, and even though it’d be hard, not showing up would be letting him win.

A shiver snaked its way up my spine at the thought of facing him on the stand. But I’d do it. Not just for me. For Shanley—my friend.

And there was Javi, who…my front teeth punctured my bottom lip as I imagined him lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to all those machines in a room so dull and colorless, the antithesis of him. I’d be by his side until he woke up—or until the nurses booted me, which was usually after only an hour. Today they’d let me stay for two.

And there was the scrap of paper with the other watchtower coordinates I’d shoved to the bottom of my hamper, in hopes it’d end up in the wash with my dirty clothes. Yet somehow, it always seemed to make it through laundry day unscathed. I didn’t know where they led or what I might uncover; after the night at the Boardwalk I still hadn’t mustered the courage to face the one in town, but it could be a starting point for finding Akosua. I knew she had the answers, even if Chthonia claimed her as one of theirs.

Of course, I couldn’t forget, there was also school. Perhaps the least exciting thing, but I’d be damned if I let myself fail again.

Black-and-orange wings lifted off, capturing my attention. My neck craned, following the butterfly’s invisible trail into the vista of blue until the light burned my eyes, and it became just another speck amongst the sunspots.

I glanced at the grave once more when something struck me. The epitaph—it had no dates. That seemed like critical information to forget. Strange…

A prickling sensation swept across my shoulder blades, igniting my scars. I awkwardly bent my arm to reach behind me, the tips of my fingers brushing against the burning skin, alight with intuition. I broke my gaze and walked to the car.

Maybe this wasn’t my end.

Maybe this was my beginning.

River’s journey continues in volume II of the Book of the Watchers: Angel of Earth & Bone. Read on to get a sneak peek at Chapter 1!

Angel of Earth & Bone Chapter 1

“Alright River, now climb onto his back.”

I stared at Shanley, then back at the werewolf—the one I supposedly needed to climb. “Ex-excuse me?”

“Haul yourself up his side and situate yourself between his shoulder blades. Here…” Shanley tilted her head towards the beast’s jowls—which I wouldn’t be caught anywhere near—and pitched her very human voice to the low whine of a canine, giving what I assumed to be a command.

With a chuff from his snout, the wolf crouched a little lower.

Wide blue eyes, freckled honey-beige cheeks, and golden-brown hair reflected in his midnight stare, the only pieces of me that might have remained the same after discovering I was half-angel—Nephilim—and the heiress of the Angel of Water.

“There, should be easier now.” Rolling up her sleeves, my friend dropped to a knee and interlaced her fingers, the cup of her palms ready to hoist me up. Her skin was dry from long days at the coffee shop, and calloused by the repeated transition from hands to paws.