A/N: Here is another update. It's getting tougher to write… But I'll make sure to finish this. I already have the plot inside my head, I just need to come up with words to convey it. Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to DottiMag. Thank you so much for that really sweet review, you actually made my day! :D

Again, reviews are welcomed and appreciated, so send them my way, guys!

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. I'm just playing inside Lauren Kate's sandbox.

CHAPTER THREE: THE GHOSTS YOU CHASE

CAM

Cam woke up to the afternoon sun pouring its slatted light through the barred windows of his room. It was his first weekend back at Sword and Cross Reform School and for once, he wasn't that miserable. He rose to his feet and yanked a black shirt and black jeans from his closet. The black-on-black dress code doesn't apply during weekends, but he wasn't really that fond of other colors.

Okay, maybe, Red… Like Lilith's hair.

Or blue, like her eyes.

He shook his head, a smile etched on his face as he made his way out of his room. They agreed to meet in the bleachers to spend time together, and he had waited for it all week. He can still remember how her eyes glinted at the mention of weekends off of classes, her smile so contagious that he felt his lips curve upward, too.

He can understand why. Lilith's last school, Trumbull Prep in Crossroads, didn't have weekends.

The Sword and Cross commons seemed brighter than usual as he passed a few kids chatting among themselves. They seemed more relaxed as they took walks, played games and the like. Color was everywhere on campus, and he can see even the tougher looking kids smile.

He was making his way to the bleachers, keeping an eye out for Lilith, when thin, smooth fingers curled under his elbow.

"Cam."

Arriane stood beside him, her smile looking forced and tired in the gold of the aging day. His brows furrowed in concern as he turned to face her. "What is it, Arri?"

"Have you heard from Ro?" she asked worriedly. "It has been a week."

He looked away from her, a feeling of guilt spreading through him. The week passed by like a whirlwind that he had not even remembered checking on Roland. "I haven't," he replied with a frown as he looked back at her.

There was a trace of sadness on Arriane's eyes even as she tried to laugh. "Oh! Maybe he's off somewhere playing his harmonica again."

Her laughter was forced that it was painful to look at her. If there was one thing Cam knew about Arriane Alter, it was this: She is a huge ball of positivity. She was the type who can laugh everything off and come up with a joke or two while she was at it. He wouldn't say it to her face, but he always admired that about her.

But the Arri in front of him felt like a complete stranger, and guilt nagged him once more. Roland is their brother, their friend… After all the things he has done for him over the centuries, especially last week, the least he could do is to make sure he was okay.

"I guess I'll go and cover Randy's office in toilet paper," Arriane said in a bad imitation of her usual jolly tone, before she started walking away. "See you, brother!" she said as she waved goodbye, not looking back at him.

He couldn't say anything for awhile as he placed both of his hands on the pockets of his jeans. He needed to check on Roland, right now. He just hoped Lilith would understand.

"Arriane," he called as he jogged after her.

The girl stopped on her tracks, a look of curiosity on her face. "Yeah?"

"Can you go stay with Lilith? She's by the bleachers. I need to check on something. Just tell her I'll see her later."

Arriane nodded immediately and didn't ask any questions. "Okay. I'll tell her."

"Thanks, sis." Cam reached out to mess her hair before making his way towards the cemetery.

"Not my hair, you dumbo!" he heard Arriane complain loudly just before he turned into a corner.

Cam could feel his wings burn with the urge to let loose. He walked faster and soon enough, he was inside the cemetery gates. He traced the path towards the larger mausoleums at the base of it and once he was there, he looked around to make sure nobody was looking.

After making sure he was alone, he rolled his shoulder and released his wings. Cam held his breath and looked at his sides. He still wasn't used to it. The setting sun gave his wings a faint rose hue, and it shimmered like thousands of crystals. It was beautiful.

He snapped his fingers, and nearby, a shadow casted by a headstone quivered and drifted towards him. A gust of cold swept around him as the shadow shrank into a small, compact sphere in front of him. He gripped the shadow with both hands and gave it a firm tug.

The shadow bulged and made a weird sound. Soon enough, the darkness distorted, replaced by various colors meshed into each other. Cam kept tugging until it was square shaped, like a television. He released it and waited.

The tangle of colors separated until it became distinct shapes. He narrowed his eyes and soon, he was able to see the recognizable mane of black-and-gold dreadlocks.

Roland Sparks was standing in front of around a hundred demons, his dark gold and black marbled wings pulsing behind him. He was talking, and the others were nodding in agreement.

He tapped his foot in annoyance as he tried to tune in to what he was saying. He watched as the demons in front of his brother raised their right fists in solidarity.

Cam's face went white as soon as he was able to hear everything.

He watched as Roland smiled confidently and proclaimed to the battalion in front of him, "My brothers, in two weeks, we fight."