The Candles Are Burning (Into Shadow, #6)

by Veronica G. Henry

The only people who were truly dead were those who had been forgotten.

Jackson raised a shapely dark eyebrow. “I always told your husband if he didn’t hurry up and marry you, I would.”

There is no greater terror than hearing the scream of someone you love.

“She has the forbidden knowledge,” a voice hissed as soon as Jackson closed the door.

“They call me Death. I prefer the name Reaper, if you will. I am the keeper of the candles,” the creature said, gliding over to the candles like a farmer tending his flock. “One for each life in the world. The candles are burning, ever burning.”