The Wounded Heart by K.D. Worth

Author:K.D. Worth [Worth, K.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: young adult
ISBN: 978-1-63533-782-2
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2017-12-12T05:00:00+00:00

KODY—Chapter 12

WHY IS there a water stain on my bedroom ceiling?

I’d been staring at it for an hour, asking myself that question over and over. A water stain meant faulty plumbing, but our dorms didn’t have plumbing. We had showers and taps—no toilets—but I’d looked under the sinks once and found no pipes. The water just appeared.

So what was with the water stain?

Was it Slade’s way of subliminally telling us the world wasn’t perfect? That there were imperfections and mistakes everywhere?

Or was I just bored out of my mind?

Heaving a sigh, I rolled onto my side. A tiny Eiffel Tower statue sat on my nightstand. After we’d “climbed” to the top, we took an elevator down rather than teleporting, and it was pretty cool seeing the city through all that iron as we traveled down one of the four legs. Once outside, street vendors had accosted us, carrying large rings full of Eiffel Tower statues. Though cheesy, I conjured a few more euros and insisted we each get one to remember our perfect morning in Paris. The memory brought me happiness, but I was too weary to smile.

Would I ever get a chance to have fun like that again?

No, our life’s too complicated for leisurely strolls in Paris.

Slade had been keeping Max busy with training, and from the way it sounded, it was going really well. I supposed that was a good thing. When the wraiths eventually attacked me, it would be nice if he could keep us alive.

I shivered.

What could the shades want with me? Did it have to do with this supposed higher purpose I was destined for? Were they going to use me for something? What would happen if they were distracting me when the wraiths came? What if the wraiths were too powerful for Max? What if he wasn’t there?

“Stop thinking about it!” I scolded myself out loud.

Snatching up the deck of cards beside the little Eiffel Tower, I shuffled them absently. Though nowadays I could do real magic, the tactile feel of the paper in my hands soothed me, but even the act of shuffling cards sapped what little energy I had left. I was totally exhausted. The biggest highlight of being a reaper—aside from Max—should’ve been the joy of taking people to heaven and helping them find peace.

Lately it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Our last charge had been a middle-aged orthopedic surgeon who absolutely refused to believe God existed. The longer I spoke with her, reasoned with her, the more exhausted I became, like she was literally sucking the energy right out of me. If it hadn’t been for Max opening the door and saying, “Look, lady, why don’t you just walk through the door and see for yourself?” I wondered if the woman would have turned into a shade like all the stories in Ed Carter’s journal. Either way, she’d utterly exhausted me.

Thankfully Max didn’t notice what a lousy reaper I was turning out to be.

Not only did it physically

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