Ha stands, hands me the folder and scroll, and then places a heavy hand on my shoulder. “For what it’s worth, Kyrie, I’m sorry that the Fates are testing you with this soul for your first. We assemble tomorrow night at 10:00pm to go to the pickup site. You’ll need your scythe.”
I shudder and a fresh sob rips through me. Dmitri looks distinctly uncomfortable and leaves the room, the grating sound of the sliding door to the back patio following behind him.
It feels like the weight of the world has settled heavily on my shoulders. Santos offers me his hand and helps me out of my chair before pulling me into a warm hug.
I stiffen for a second, unsure of what to do, but his arms around me feel so comforting that I sink into his embrace and allow myself to melt into him and cry. I hear a rustling noise and look up from where I am soaking his shirt and all I can see are iridescent white feathers surrounding me.
He murmurs something I can’t understand as he holds me, his hand stroking my hair and pressing small kisses to the top of my head. His wings have extended and wrapped around us, as if they are protecting us from the horrors of the world for a short while. I tuck my head under his chin and press my body closer to his. One of my fingers reaches out to stroke one of his feathers and a shudder rolls through him. His arms tighten around me and he exhales deeply.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… it’s just—your wings are so beautiful. You’ve never let me see them before.” I say, tremulously.
“I’ve never had anyone touch my wings before,” Santos whispers finally, “I wasn’t prepared for that feeling. It feels… good. Surprising. New.”
His voice has a hint of vulnerability and I hug him tighter, each of us lost in our thoughts.
Chapter 3
Images of Thane dying haunt my dreams and prevent me from sleeping at all night. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling and reliving every aspect of our relationship.
I think of his parents and his friends and family and it makes my heart hurt. Dmitri and Santos tried to help, reassuring me that a familiar face can be very comforting for a soul about to be Reaped, but it doesn’t help. The reality of my new role as a Reaper weighs on me heavily. This will be the first of many souls that I will carry for an eternity.
When I tire of staring at the ceiling, I drag myself to my corner desk and start on the dusty pile of books that Santos had given me about the history of soul retrieval. Page after page, some written in intricate calligraphy and languages I don’t understand, but nothing pops out at me that gets me out of my duty. It physically hurts to think about Thane being dead, even if we haven’t spoken in six months.
My alarm goes off but I woodenly silence it and type out an email to my professors. I don’t care that it’s only the third day and skipping class is not the best way to make an impression. There’s no way I can just go about my daily life knowing that Thane dies tonight. Instead, I roam aimlessly through the apartment, filling my coffee cup and returning to the solace and mystery of the books.
I read about Reapers who tore the very fabric of Creation when they failed at their duty. Or the Reapers who were derelict in their duty and then were forced to exchange their own souls for the ones they let escape. It really put the grim in Grim Reaper.
Hours of study. But nothing I read gave me any hope of changing my fate or that of Thane’s. The Fates have spoken and Thane’s time is done. The only thing I can do is give him a peaceful journey to the Underworld.
I grit my teeth and blink back tears. Dmitri and Santos watch me from their perch on the couch but they say nothing. I think they are trying to give me space. If I were in a better place, I might appreciate the effort but right now it irritates the ever-lasting fuck out of me.
I am a Reaper trainee. There is nothing I can do. I want to rage. To scream. To beat something in protest. Instead, I stare off into space in silence and every so often, a tear drips down my cheek and I don’t bother to wipe it away.
Finally, in a fit of frustration, I lace up my running shoes and tear out of the apartment like a death-dealing bat out of Hell. The burning of my lungs as I run makes me feel better and I focus on that pain. It fuels me and I push my brutal pace, relishing the burn in my legs and the gasps of air. It feels like penance being paid on behalf of Thane. I don’t have a destination in mind, I just run until I can’t anymore. When I finally stop, my chest heaves and sweat drips down my face. I’m outside the city limits and in front of the old Sacred Heart Cemetery. Ivy climbs the wrought-iron gate and the ancient trees shade the generations of tombstones and scrape the sky with their barren limbs.
My feet move of their own volition and I dodge through the broken gates to wander through the rows, stopping to read the epitaphs occasionally. Each of these tombs represents a soul that was once living on the Mortal Realm. Every single one of them was escorted to their Afterlife by a Reaper.
“Your job is to set them on the path. Whether they go up or down or stay in limbo, they can’t move without you. We don’t know until they test you but we suspect that they will have an easier journey because you are Angel-borne, sweetheart.” Santos appears beside me and rests his hand on my shoulder. I know he’s been with me the whole time, but he and Dmitri have been good about letting me feel my emotions over the last few days and that includes utilizing their ability to be invisible with discretion.
“You are also descended from the Ruling Houses of the Underworld, zvedza. I can’t understand your human feelings about your duty, but I can say that you are uniquely qualified and you will do a service that cannot be done by anyone else.” Dmitri places his hand on my other shoulder and a desperate laugh escapes me. Both of them look at me with questions in their eyes, but I just shake my head and turn my weary body back towards the gate to walk home. I don’t think they would understand the amusement of talking about eternal duty with an angel and a demon on each shoulder. That’s a human thing.
Santos takes pity on me once we cross back out of the cemetery and gathers me up in his arms. “Do you want me to fly you home?” he asks, gently. I nod and throw my arms around his neck. Both Dmitri and Santos have blinked/shifted me places, but I have never flown and the idea excites me.
“We’ll see you at the apartment,” Santos nods at Dmitri before hoisting me up, pressing me against his chest while my legs lock around his waist. His wings pop out and I gasp in his ear, reaching out to stroke them again. The shudder moves through his body again and I can feel the strong cords of his muscles flex. I want to rub my body on him like a cat, but I resist. Barely.
“Hold on tight, sweetheart,” he whispers to me, wrapping his arms around me while his wings flap and we rise in the air. The wind rushes as we rise higher and higher, I bury my face in his neck. For the first time since they arrived, I feel free. Together, we soar through the clouded skies and I feel some of the stress that fills my body release, replaced with a tingling awareness of every place my body is touching Santos. Without thinking, I lean forward and press a kiss to the side of his neck. An electric buzz runs through my body the second my lips touch his skin and I jerk back in surprise. Apparently, I am not the only one who feels that buzz because his whole body jerks suddenly to the left and we drop several hundred feet in altitude, causing me to scream.
What was that?!
The muscles of his shoulders flex, and he works to correct his flight and even us out. Heat flushes my cheeks and I’m glad he can’t see my face. Neither of us speak for a moment, both of us lost to our own thoughts. I should probably apologize. I crossed a boundary or at the very least, startled the shit out of him. I don’t even know if they allow Angels to kiss me back. Probably not. Although, my existence proves that some Angels definitely interpret the rules differently. His arms tighten around me and I feel his hand cradle the top of my head, keeping me pressed against him and hope blooms alive in my chest.
I spy the campus below us as we circle down towards my apartment. I wish we could freeze time and stay like this forever. As if he could he
ar my thoughts, Santos suddenly dives and touches down on the roof of the library. His wings flex and then return to rest up against his back and I know I should let go of him, but I can’t. From the grip he has on me, I am not sure he can let go of me either.
“Kyrie…” he breaks the silence and his breath is hot next to my ear. He sounds almost tortured. I pull my head away from his shoulder and lean back to look up at him.
His dark eyes blaze with confusion and something else, something I recognize instantly: heat. He wants me too.
Gently pressing my palm against his chest, I hear the reassuring thump-thump of his heart. I lock my eyes on his and an intense feeling of longing rushes through me. Everything in me wants to take this confusion from him, to satisfy this need that I have, but I can’t. Not when he looks so tortured. My job is to protect souls, not break them.
I push back, carefully unlock my legs, and slide down his body, keeping myself pressed against him as much as I can. I can’t help but enjoy the closeness for the rest of this stolen moment in time.
“Shh,” I press a finger to his lips and prevent him from saying anything else. He stiffens for a moment before returning my embrace and wrapping us both in the cocoon of his wings.
“You’re special to me, Kyrie,” Santos whispers, before pressing an achingly sweet kiss to my forehead, “more special than you know.” His arms tighten around me, and then he releases me, and blinks out of existence, leaving me on the roof alone. A single downy white feather on the roof tiles at my feet is the only sign that I just had some sort of moment with an angel.
I pick it up and rub the softness against my palm. It fills me with a warm glow.
“You’re special to me too, Santos.” I say softly, just in case he didn’t blink away and is just hiding his feelings from me while being invisible.
I wish I could turn invisible.
I scuff my feet and look around, taking in the view from the top of the library. The massive bell in the campus clock tower strikes three times and I can see the scurry of students moving across the courtyard, laughing, flirting, and exploring the campus. I used to thrive in the fresh energy of a new school year but now, I feel so disconnected from them.
Even my sorority sisters have been distant. It’s like a chasm opened up between us. My subconscious laughs and I kick a pebble towards the edge of the roof.
Disconnect should have been expected. They’re busy planning Homecoming and the party-to-end-all-parties to celebrate our Senior year, and I am over here being the soulkeeper of the dead and living with temptation times two. I sigh again before walking over to the rooftop access door. I pushed against the door and groaned aloud.
Locked. Of course it is.
If Santos were still here, he would probably pop back in and rescue me. That he hasn’t appeared yet pretty much indicates that he is not here. I can’t shift yet. Dmitri says I’ll be able to do it once my training period is over. Speaking of Dmitri, that leaves me only one option of getting off this roof.
“Dmitri?” I call out loudly, knowing he is probably stalking me. He likes to do that.
I wait, but no one appears and I scowl. Melinoe told me that if I wanted to summon a demon, all I had to do was say their name three times—with intent.
“Dmitri. DMITRI.” I call out again. I tap my toes and examine my fingernails.
A cloud of black smoke appears in front of me and Dmitri steps out. He has a wicked-looking club in his hand and his eyes flare red with anger. “What’s the danger? Are you safe? What happened? Where’s that feathered freak?” his questions come out so rapidly that I can’t think of an answer fast enough. He prowls around the rooftop, seething with anger, brandishing his club as little wisps of smoke surround him. Seeing no immediate danger, he snaps his fingers and his club disappears.
I’m so freaked out that I’m actually shaking.
“What the fuck was that?” I blurt out.
Dmitri’s eyes narrow and he stalks closer to me, “I could ask you the same question, zvezda. You summoned me here. Was it not for protection? Were you not in danger?”
I blink again. Uh. Oops. Apparently summoning is like demon 911, not supernatural Uber... My bad.
“I’m stuck on this roof and I need to go home. Santos had to… take care of something, and he forgot to bring me down.”
Dmitri swears viciously in some demon language. I can’t understand it, but I get the feeling it’s quite creative.
“You called me for a ride?” His pale green eyes glitter with something that I can’t quite place. I am fairly certain he would never hurt me, but I feel a small wiggle of fear twist in my chest.
“Um. Yes?” I squeak.
He grins, picking up on my fear. “Oh, I make you nervous, don’t I, zvezda? Good. Flying with a demon isn’t like flying with Mr. Pure and Feathery. You want a ride? I’m happy to oblige you... Anytime, anywhere. But you have to ask me for it. Say the words and we can be off this rooftop in a heartbeat. Tell me you want to ride me, Kyrie.”
His words sink into my skin and wrap around my very soul. I feel shortness of breath and my skin sparks in awareness. I lick my lips and a whole catalogue of x-rated images of what it would be like to ride Dmitri floods my brain. Closing my eyes with a shudder, I nod at him.
“I want to ride you, Dmitri,” I choked out, trying hard not to react to the sensations that are erupting over my body.
“I know you do, baby.” His smile is positively feral when he steps up behind me and places his hands on my hips, pulling me back up against him. His fingers trail up my arms before he drapes his arm over my chest and hugs me from behind. He scrapes his teeth along my neck and I shiver. Blue flames shoot out of his fingers and caress my skin. I’m panting now. A single flame settles over each of my nipples, sending hot sensations rocketing through my body. I wiggle against him, freezing when I feel the hardness pressed against my ass. Fucking demon is enjoying this.
“Take me home, Dmitri,” I beg.
“Your wish is my command, zvezda.”
He bites the side of my neck and everything explodes around me. I feel the wave of climax rise up and crest, sending me into a white-hot freefall of an orgasm just as we disappear in a cloud of smoke.
When we reappear in my living room, my legs feel like jelly and I collapse in a heap on the floor. The aftershocks are still running through me and Dmitri looks down on me, twirling his finger to drive his flames to different locations on my body.
I should tell him to stop but it feels so damned good.
Santos appears from the kitchen, worry etched over his face when he sees me writhing on the floor.
“What happened? Is she okay?” he cries out, stepping forward. Dmitri holds out a hand to stop him.
“You left our girl wanting, Feathers. She summoned me to her and I had to retrieve her off the top of a roof, all quivering and needy... and holding on to one of your calling cards. I just gave her what you were too afraid to. Look at her. That’s her pleasure. That’s what wanting us does to her.”
Through the fog of my orgasm, I heard what he’d said. I grit my teeth and pushed myself into a sitting position. Glaring at Dmitri, I hold up my hand. “Stop. Now.”
He does. His hand closes into a fist, and the moment the flames leave my body I miss them. There’s a pleasant ache where he bit me, but then the rest of the day sinks into me and the knowledge that we only have a few more hours left before I have to attend to Thane rips through me, taking away from the aftermath of my unexpected orgasm.
“Leave me alone.” I shout at him, suddenly embarrassed and confused about my body’s responses to him.
He gives me a courtly little bow and disappears. Santos looks uncomfortable, and it irritates me so much that I wave him off and stalk off to my room, slamming the door behind me.
What kind of person plays sex-games with angels and demons hours before the death of their first love?
Running my hands down my aching body, I let my head fall back against the door.
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I may have told Dmitri to stop and prevented Santos from making a move, but to say I didn’t want it would be a lie. The problem is, I want it too much. And that freaks me out.
No matter what I’m feeling inside, or how much I’ve tried to prepare myself for this moment, 10:00 PM arrives faster than I’m ready for.
I stand in the living room of my tiny apartment, my scythe in one hand and Dmitri and Santos on either side of me. I’m shaking, and my eyes are red from the amount of tears I have shed today. There are no more tears now, just grim determination. Dmitri has draped me in an intricate silk robe with runes embroidered all over it. Unlike the Halloween-esque Grim Reaper cloaks I’ve seen in costume stores, this one reminds of a haute couture re-imaging of a boxing robe. It’s a silvery grey that shimmers in the light. The runes are embroidered in bronze and emerald green. It has a wide hood that shields my face from view when pulled up.
With the cloak secured snugly over my shoulders, Santos places a diadem of gold and silver on top of my head, and as he presses his hand on it and mutters something in Angelic. I shudder as a golden glow covers me from head to toe.
“You have your scythe and we have bestowed the gifts of Heaven and Hell upon you.” Dmitri starts, turning me to look at him. “It’s time.”
With a shaking breath, I nod and grip my scythe tightly.
I’ve looked at all my options, and spent more hours than I care to think about reading about them, and it comes down to two conclusions: Follow through with the assignment and escort Thane to the Underworld, or be negligent in my duty and sacrifice my own soul instead.
Santos had pulled some strings and assured me that Thane had led a reasonably good life and will probably end up in Heaven... at some point. Even with the caveat, that information makes me feel slightly better about what’s about to happen.
“When you get there, the power of your scythe and the heavenly diadem will shield you. It’s like a halo for non-angels. You will watch for the soul to rise from the wreckage. I checked the schedule. This is a single soul from this site. Once you see the soul rise, you will approach. Hook the soul with your scythe and speak the words of power to it, reassure it you will not cause it harm—” Santos speaks quickly, but I interrupt him.
Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection Page 177
