by Mason Sabre
The alternative way to secure death, or at least increase the risk, was to clutch the brave Human and yank him down for the ride. That was what Stephen did. With his wife off the bus and the Human’s dirty needle sticking in his neck, Stephen grabbed the rail as the Human dared to push Stephen off too, and they fell.
He guessed he should have pitied him. Anyone would think the Human would realise it would not work out so well for him, especially when it was someone like Stephen they were trying to take out. Had they not learnt? In all this time they had held him prisoner, did they still think they were in charge?
Not that Stephen was boastful … or Nick. Nick Mason as his father had renamed him to save his life. Stephen had survived more than one Human taking a chance to end his life; he would survive this.
The bus lurched, no doubt the driver wondered what the hell was going on in the back. At some point, he must have realised that his big bad prisoner was loose, for he’d experienced the indignity of soiling his trousers as he glimpsed behind him. Maybe it was the struggle that had done it; that or the small chunks of brain splattered on the exit. He crashed. Stephen assumed the bus had airbags fitted to it, but he doubted it, as the metal monster hit the steel fence at the side of the road.
Humans were such delicate creatures. They were like ants. Nothing more than a fingertip pressed against their heads and their insides popped out. But they were a whole colony. They could move the world if they wanted to, and often they did.
While mid-air, Stephen used his strategic skills to wrench himself around, and with an extra dose of luck, he hugged the Human to his body and in one final goodbye; he let the Human land on the ground first to soften the blow. It was the least he could do, Stephen figured. He had plunged silver into his body after all. It was only reasonable he should break the fall. Stephen was the grand prize, and Norton would demand the Human to do everything in his capacity to secure Stephen’s survival.
Stephen rolled himself off the Human. He was a solid wall of bulky muscle. They'd landed with a thump and a gut-churning sound as bones shattered, and brain matter flowed out like angel wings around the Human's head. Stephen lay with his arms out at the sides of him, and his breath knocked from him.
Shit in hell that had hurt.
Had he been in such a way, he might well have taken a bite from the good Human friend. Although, even if the mood came over him, Stephen was afraid he'd have to turn down that generous offer. His body was heavy. Silver ran through his veins like a hot worm eating through each part of his flesh. It slugged its course through every capillary with microscopic teeth, and had Stephen found his voice at that moment, he might have acted a little Human himself and let out a slight whimper.
Perhaps it was good he couldn’t move. Not a thing, just his eyes and the necessary functions his body needed so he could breathe.
He lay with the Human like a couple after a little adventure together. It was a shame he couldn't smoke, he thought. He would have liked to at that moment, the fine inhalation of toxins as he regarded the Human smiling at him, but then he realised, he had misinterpreted the Human’s grimace for satisfaction. Either way, it turned the Human’s mouth at the corners. Stephen preferred to believe he was smiling at him. He was delighted to have saved the tiger’s life.
Stephen sought to smile back, but the muscles that controlled his mouth didn't move. He was encountering paralysis, perhaps, but he wasn't so concerned. Whatever it was, would wear off quickly enough.
In all the planning he had done to get Helena and their unborn children from the bus, he had not thought or cared to factor himself in. It was different. Usually, he was his first thought, or at least, he would have been once upon a time. "That's love for you, big brother." He heard the chimes of his sister’s voice in his head. Gemma … He’d not seen her since … since that terrible night, when he had lost so much more than he’d ever thought. He clenched his fists just at the thought of that day.
“There’d be no Helena …” That was always his resolve to the melancholy in his head. Would he go back and change that day? He’d saved his father, saved his nephew, and now, he’d saved his wife. There was to be no self-pity with this shit. Fuck no. Hero. Yes … an award, because Stephen always saved the fucking day.
“Nick …” The distant roar of Helena reached Stephen with his enhanced hearing.
“Shit. Now we’re in trouble,” he told the Human.
There were other faint sounds, but Stephen couldn't make them out even when he strained. Everything was like he had his head in a bucket. It had that underwater echo. He tried to move but discovered he couldn’t and realised that the water in his ear was probably the Human’s blood, because he was lying in it.
It wasn’t the blood that bothered Stephen just then. It was the sudden realisation he couldn't feel a thing. Not that he couldn’t move, but that the ground wasn’t there … or it felt like it wasn’t there. Even the air was missing. They had landed in a ditch to the side of the road, and Stephen's feet remained in the water, but he did not feel wet. There was no pain, no cold. Nothing. He simply was. He glowered. It wasn’t possible he had evolved so much that he'd become a kind of super Other. Of course, that would have pleased him to discover, but no. The answer had to be much simpler and far more disappointing.
He shimmied himself back, but there was no feeling of the sludge beneath him. Off in the distance, he could hear the scared cry of Helena. Her pitch rose, laced with a desperate need that called to the protectiveness of his tiger.
Using a tree, Stephen pushed to his feet. His body was asleep, heavy. Gravity fought against him and gripped at him with fingers and claws to draw him back down, but god damn it, he got up, fought against his swaying head and the urge to lie back down. He stood there, clinging to the trunk and shaking.
Not so far away, through the trees, Helena was ahead of Xander and Eden. The pregnant woman was outrunning a fae and a witch. Her eyes were wide, her expression laden with fear. Blood trickled down the side of her face, but that didn’t seem to faze her.
“I’m over here,” Stephen called out, waving both arms in the manner of a maniac. Big mistake. His legs gave way, and he landed hard against the tree, the back of it scraped along his face. Yet, when he touched a hand to his cheek, nothing.
Helena didn’t hear him. Not even a whisper. He frowned at her, not that she seemed to see him do that either. He teetered forward, but it was like stumbling through water, and when he peered down at his feet, he saw he was on sodden ground.
“Helena,” he yelled. She wasn’t listening. She was too busy searching for him. “Eden,” he tried instead. He tried waving again, hoping to get her attention instead, but they were going the wrong way.
He was dead weight as he slugged his way through the mud he couldn't feel. If he could have just closed his eyes and rested right then, he would have done it too. But he went back to where the Human lay, the back of his head shattered. Stephen paused. "What the hell?" he said to no one specific as he glared down at himself. There was a dumb smile across his lips, and he was facing the Human. Both, frozen.
It had been so long since he had done this that even he hadn’t recognised when he came out of his body. His purpose, as Freya would tell him. His purpose was to send those who needed to cross over on their merry way. There would be a little Human somewhere, hiding, trembling, and not knowing what had happened to him. There’d be a soul ball nestled somewhere close to them, so Stephen could make the reaper’s decision. That was what he was, a soul reaper. His job … to catch those who died and help them move on.
He wished right then he had a pocket of treats or something, so he could search around while yelling, “Here, little Human,” as he tried to coax him out.
There was no sign of him, though. Not a sniff. There wasn't even a soul ball next to him, which was odd. One always dropped when the soul leapt from the mortal flesh. Stephen searched his jeans, patted down his pockets. Sometimes they ended up there, ready for Stephen to use. But nothing
. How was he supposed to reap the soul of the Human if he didn't have the proper tools to do it?
On the road above them, hanging over the edge and twisted onto its side was the bus. “Well, shit.” Maybe it was up there.
Even from where he stood, Stephen could see the driver of the bus was dead. He was hanging out of the front, his body still inside. His face was a mess, red, torn. He had his arms dangling down in front of him. Maybe that was what it was. He had to reap them both, and so the soul ball was up there. Made sense, he supposed. Why dot them around when he had to gather all their souls. The souls were probably on the bus too. It wasn’t unusual for someone to not realise they were dead. They’d probably be looking for him.
He was about to make the climb up the path, but then his mind caught the crying sounds behind him. Helena. She was kneeling by his body. Dirt, blood and tears marred her sweet face. He clenched his fist to his side, unable to go to her and wipe away the mess.
"I'll not be long," he said. "I need to find these souls."
Helena rolled Stephen’s head, so he was looking at her, rather than at his Human death companion. “Nick … Nick … Nick,” she cried over and over. Eden stood behind her, her face twisted with agony, her hand to her mouth. Xander came to crouch by Helena. He put his hand under her armpit to lift her. “No,” she cried and pushed him off. "I can fix him."
He glanced back to Eden, who took a deep breath, wiped her face and put a mental clamp down on her thoughts. She joined Xander, coming to the other side of Helena. "You have to leave him," she whispered.
"No. No, I won't." Helena tore at Stephen's shirt, ripping the fabric open. "I'm not leaving him. I can't." She put her ear to his mouth, her fingers on his neck.
“He’s gone,” Xander said.
“I can’t just leave him here. I …”
Eden touched her arm. “You have to.”
Close by the sound of something moving made them all look—a vehicle.
Eden gripped Helena's arm in a firmer hold. "We have to go before the Humans come."
Xander tried to angle her to him. “Nick didn’t do this, so you can get caught. Think of your babies.”
“He’s dead,” Eden breathed. “We’ll come back for him after, but we have to go, now.”
Helena’s scowl mirrored Stephen’s and, unheard to them, he thanked the witch for being his friend.
Chapter 3
Helena pressed her face against Stephen’s, cheek to cheek. “Wake up. Please, wake up.” She angled her face and placed tearful kisses along his face. She held his hand and clenched it to her as if she could push life back into him from her own body. “I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me.”
“I’m right here.” Stephen crouched opposite her. His face shone with her tears, but he couldn’t feel them on his skin, he couldn’t feel her. “I hear you.”
She rocked with every sob and clutched his hand tighter to her face. “Please, Nick. Please come back.”
Her words grated his skin; he bowed his head, his knuckles on the ground. There was no ball on the bus, no ball by the bodies. It made no sense to him, but deep inside a fundamental part of himself, as he listened to Helena's cries, he knew this was it.
Even though there had been no white light, no tunnel, no one to show him the last images of his life, he knew. Whenever he reaped a soul, he saw the details of the person’s life, their mistakes, their joys. He imagined they saw it with him too, so they would know when he reaped their souls and decided if they got a second chance or if this was their final step.
Her hand was nothing under his, but he kept his hand over hers. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way.” His death was meant to be victorious. He was a fighter, a warrior. His death was meant to come at the hands of war or protection. It was meant to be during a fight for something he believed in. When he was giving his life for something that mattered. Not this … not laid in a muddy stream hidden in the hedges. “This matters.” He nodded to himself and raised his eyes to Helena.
She put her lips to his and tried to force air into his lungs.
“You matter.”
"One-one thousand. Two-one thousand. Three-one-thousand …" She pumped his chest. "Breathe, Nick. Come on."
“I’m sorry.”
Back at his mouth, she tried to puff air into his lungs. Her tears dripped from her face onto his. His lips were wet from where she cried against him. A sob caught her before she switched from breathing into him to pushing on his chest to get it out, and she clutched at his chest. "You can come back. Please come back."
Stephen leant across his own body to put his face closer to hers. "You need to leave. I'm gone." Maybe this was why he hadn't found the soul balls. He wasn't ready to leave, and neither was she. He planned to get her to safety. "Leave me here." He couldn't even force the words across to her, but there had to be a way. There had to be something he could do to make her walk away.
Could he leave her if the tables were turned? No … but she had to.
“Please.”
Eden stood behind Helena. Her eyes were red, but her face was dry now. She hugged at herself and tossed glances back toward the road. The Humans would come soon.
“Helena,” Eden murmured. She put her hand onto Helena’s shoulder and lowered herself down to the same level. “We need to leave.”
Helena shook her head. “I’m not leaving him.” She shrugged Eden off and went back to blowing into Stephen’s mouth.
Xander moved away from them and stepped over the Human.
“Where are you going?” Eden asked.
“I need to see how much time we have. Maybe if I go to the main road, I can sense it.” Even he knew they weren’t going to get Helena to move, not without a fight. Xander was an air fae. He could suck the breath out of a person, quite literally. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He dashed off and headed toward the road where it dipped at the embankment and made easy access between the two. It was clearer there. Not much debris had fallen from the trees, and what was there was nothing more than the odd broken twig or trash that had blown in.
He put himself in the middle of the road and held his arms out at either side. When the air around him moved, he let out a slow breath, so slow that it went on for longer than anyone with normal breathing capacities could manage.
Stephen imagined the coolness nipped at the edges of his skin, but that was nothing more than dreams and wishes.
The pupil in Xander's eye swirled and twisted; it formed into a mass of grey and black that blended, he took the air back into his body and under his skin. Everything about him simmered like he was made from dust that would scatter the moment anyone touched him.
“We’ve probably got about ten minutes,” he said to Eden when he went back. “They’re close, but not so close. But we have to go.” He moved around to the other side of Stephen and crouched so he was opposite Helena. “We have to leave before the Humans get here.”
She bit her trembling lip. Her tears had stopped. “I can’t leave him. You two go.”
Eden sat back on her feet and shrugged at Xander. When she shook her head at him, Stephen understood they knew Helena would sit there until the Humans came. She would sit there, and this would all be for nothing.
“Make her leave,” Stephen said. “Force her if you have to.” There was no way to get the words across to them. He wished that somehow, he could push his words from his new world and into theirs. He wasn’t afraid of being dead, or what this meant for him, but he was afraid for Helena. The Humans would come, and they would take everything that meant something to him. And she would let them. She would let them for the sake of not leaving him in the woods. “I’m dead. There’s nothing you can do for me.”
Xander reached for her hand. “We don’t have long. If you stay here, the Humans will come, and they will take you and the babies. Nick did not do this for you to sit and waste it.”
She ran her fingers across her cheek and wiped away her tears. “I can’t leave him here.”
“You can. You can leave me. I’m gone. Please run.”
Xander stared at her for a long moment. Even with just one eye and part of his face covered by the patch he had to wear, his expression said everything. He was afraid too. Without warning, he got up and went around to the back of Helena. He slid his arms under hers and wrapped them around her chest, so he could pull her back.
She pulled on him, pulled against him. “No ….”
“Yes. We have to.”
Eden was around the front, and she pushed against Helena to get her away from Stephen's body. But Helena swung her arm out and kicked. “Let me go. Let me go.” She pulled, tugged, thrashed, and twisted her body. She was smaller than them, Human, weaker, but Eden and Xander were witch and fae, not shifter, and their strength was only so much against a woman determined to get out of their grasp. Helena kicked out and got a foothold ahead of her, then she half dropped, giving them a dead weight that was too much to hold. Xander held on but, in the end, dropped her.
She scrambled away. “He’s your friend, and you’re willing to leave him here?” She staggered back and almost walked into the unseen version of Stephen.
“We’re not leaving you,” Eden said.
“And I’m not leaving him.”
Xander pressed the back of his hand to his lip. Helena must have hit him or caught him when she fought to get away. His lip was dark red, swollen, and a bead of blood burst and ran down onto his chin leaving a wash of red across his pale skin. “I’ll just get the car.” He pointed back to the way they had come from. "Maybe I can get it close enough, and we can get Nick into it. We can haul him into the back and leave."
