I thought of how she’d felt toward Roth. “She kept secrets. Sometimes secrets are dangerous.”

His gaze sought mine. “Sometimes secrets are necessary.”

“She and Roth were falling for each other.”

“An angel and a demon falling dangerously in love—just like your parents.”

I blinked hard as I thought of how they’d ended—nearly exactly the same as Roth and Cassandra, but nobody had been there to hold Nathan back from following Anna into the Hollow. “Would you have tried to keep them apart if you’d known earlier?”

“Oh, I already knew.” At my look, the barest glimpse of a smile played at his lips. “The way they started looking at each other...well, it was obvious.”

I let out a shaky breath. “They would have been torn apart if others found out—just like my parents were.”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “Or maybe the all-important balance can have some exceptions to the rule. Maybe what happened with Cassandra and Roth—with your parents—needs to happen a few more times before those barriers can start to be broken down.”

My head swam as I thought about that, about barriers breaking down, and I stared at the locket for another moment. Then my gaze shot to his. “You are kind of brilliant, do you know that?”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

My heart pounded. “Incredibly brilliant! The barrier. It can be broken. Julie was right. I can help her and the others.”

He turned me to face him, his expression confused. “What are you talking about, Samantha?”

I slipped the locket into the pocket of my jeans and grabbed his hand. “We need to go back to that house.”

“The party’s over. It got raided, remember?”

“I know, but—my mother told me it was haunted. That’s why she couldn’t sell it. Well, she was right. It is haunted. And all those ghosts—those trapped souls—I think I know how I can help them.”

Chapter 29

We took my mother’s car back to the east side of the city to where Noah’s Halloween party had been held. The house was now empty, litter scattered over the front lawn.

I glanced down the street toward the exact spot where Cassandra had been taken away. In the beginning, I’d had so many conflicting feelings about the angel, but now all I could remember was how much she loved Chinese food and the red goo.

“You probably think I’m completely crazy right now,” I said to Bishop as we got out of the car and walked a block down the street to where I could see the barrier. In most spots it was invisible, but here and there it showed itself as a translucent silver mesh that stretched up over the city like an opalescent bubble.

Bishop looked up at the barrier, his arms crossed over his chest. He then sent a wry look in my direction. “Completely? No. But maybe a little. It’s okay, though. I could use the company.”

I held my hand out to him. “I need your dagger.”

He eyed my outstretched hand, studying me as if trying to figure out a riddle. Clarity shone in his blue eyes. “Now I do think you’re crazy.”

“I have to try.”

Bishop hesitated another moment before he finally nodded. “Don’t just try.”

He pulled out the dagger and handed it to me hilt first. It felt heavy in my hand—and not just its weight. This knife had killed Cassandra, Zach and countless others.

A similar dagger had killed my birth mother seventeen years ago.

With whatever supernatural abilities I had with being a nexus—the same power that allowed me to read the minds of angels and demons—I could also read this dagger’s energy, which hummed up my arm. This wasn’t just metal. It was magic.

It felt similar to the imprint of wings on the backs of the angels and demons. This was not of this world. Here it looked like a dagger, but it was so much more than that.

This, most definitely, was a physical representation of death itself.

But I didn’t want to kill anyone with it. Tonight, I wanted to help them.

Bishop already knew what I was going to attempt. He’d heard my aunt demand it of me—and then tortured him to push me to do it. It was one of the many reasons Bishop believed nobody should learn about my secret identity.

Because I might be able to do things like this.

With both hands, I brought the blade up to the surface of the barrier. I glanced at Bishop.

“Concentrate,” he said, nodding. His eyes glowed blue in the darkness surrounding us. “You can do it.”

I took a deep breath and returned my attention to the barrier, to the also now-glowing dagger, and brought the weapon downward in one slice. A shimmering line of golden light appeared where I’d made the cut. It gaped open and a whoosh of warm air blew my hair back from my face.

“It worked,” I whispered. The golden light grew brighter and brighter, sparking with fireworklike intensity. Bishop drew me back, his arm around me as we stared up at the breached barrier.

My aunt was right. I could do this.

The thought both excited me, and scared the hell out of me.

Here, close to this kind of magic, created with the powers of both Heaven and Hell, I could feel the ghosts. I wasn’t clairvoyant—or whatever Jordan really was. But I knew when the spirits sensed the opening in the barrier. I felt them move past us like a cool breeze. I felt their joy at being free.

“Do you feel it?” I whispered.

“Yes. I feel it.” His arm tightened at my waist, his attention fixed on the barrier itself.