Haunt_A Grim Reaper Romance

by Tricia Barr

  “But the Gate has already been locked for seventeen years,” I said, trying to buy more time, knowing I was horribly selfish. “Would another handful of years really make much of a difference?”

  I hoped he would agree with me, say that we could stay here, steal just a bit more time to enjoy each other. He’d spent the last thousand years pining for me from afar. He deserved more time with me. And I only just met him in this life. I had wasted the last few weeks pushing him away, and now all I wanted was to get to know him as fully as I could.

  “It’s not just about the balance,” Killian said, his brow furrowed in obvious struggle to reject my plea. “Luca and his horde are getting too powerful. If we don’t get a handle on them soon, they will cause irreparable damage to the world. They won’t stop at killing you. They all have axes to grind, vendettas to fulfill, and they will pursue them literally to the end of the world. They have to be sent to their rightful place.”

  “Okay, well what if we just find someone else to take over for me?” I asked, getting more and more desperate to escape this fate. “You can teach me how to do it, and we’ll give this curse to someone else, someone better suited for it.”

  Killian closed his eyes in bitterness and breathed out through his nose. “It doesn’t work that way. If the curse, as you call it, were so easily transferable, then no one would ever complete a thousand-year term. Once you are selected as Gatekeeper, there is no way to get out of it until your thousand years have been completed. Think about it, Lorelei. I gave it to you just by reaching out and touching you. How many people have you touched in your life? Not a one of them has traded places with you. You are still the Gatekeeper, and unfortunately must remain so for a full millennium.”

  This night had gone quickly from the best night of my life to the worst. I was locked into a destiny that I had no say in accepting. And now I was going to have to give up my life, all of my goals and hopes, all my friends and loved ones—which, honestly, was only at a grand total of three right now, but the lack of digits didn’t make them any less difficult to part with.

  “I’m so sorry, Lorelei,” Killian said, hanging his head in regret. “I’ve ruined everything. If I had only let your soul pass through to where it was supposed to go, you wouldn’t be going through any of this right now. You wouldn’t have lived such a cursed life, and I wouldn’t be asking you to sacrifice it. I just didn’t want to lose you. I have spent the last thousand years watching over you from the Gate, hoping that you would gain enlightenment and move on to Heaven so that you’d be waiting there for me when my time came. I couldn’t bear the thought of sending you to Hell. I wouldn’t be able to reach you, especially once I went on to Heaven. That would have been the end for us, and I was too selfish to let you go.”

  I sat back down and put my hand on his. “Then let’s be selfish one last time,” I beseeched him. “Let’s spend just one more year here. You were able to push off Luca and his ghost goons. You can teach me how to do it and we can hold them off, just long enough to get to know each other again. I have been so paranoid and stupid ever since you came into my life. If I had known who you were to me, I would have grabbed on and never let go. That’s what I’m trying to do now.”

  A light burned inside his eyes. I could see how badly he wanted to say yes, to shirk his otherworldly responsibilities for just a tiny bit longer.

  He was so close, I just had to give him one last push. “If we steal this small moment in time, you’ll be able to move on to Heaven without any unfinished business, and I’ll be able to give up my life knowing I got to enjoy it to the fullest at the end.”

  I could see the light change in his eyes when he decided, and my smile erupted before he even spoke.

  “Okay, one year,” he agreed, true happiness practically shining through his pores.

  I was so happy, I threw my arms around his neck and rushed my lips up against his, reveling in the knowledge that his deliciously soft lips were going to be mine for a whole year.

  One last year, before they were taken away for a thousand times that.

  That one elated, celebratory kiss opened the gateway to so much more. His lips responded to mine, opening and closing in the most delightful rhythm. The taste of him was thrilling, intoxicating, and somehow nostalgic, making me feel at home. Our tongues danced with each other, caressing lips and teasingly flicking teeth that playfully threatened to bite.

  Our bodies had inevitably come together, and in the melee of exploring his talented mouth I found my torso pressed against his, found my hands flat against his firm chest, loving the feel of warm soft skin over hot hard muscle.

  He closed his strong arms around my back, planting those meltingly warm hands on the small of my waist, and we fell together into the bed, tangling further into each other.

  Everything I had ever felt for him all my life coalesced and released. All the panging, unfulfilled desire from the countless dreams of kissing him, the sorrow from the countless dreams of losing him, the pent-up sexual tension from pushing him away the past few weeks, and the penitent guilt at having done so, and the gleeful gratitude for the truth of who he was to me—it all collided in the most powerful emotional cocktail, making me drunk on this act of claiming him.

  Oh, and the way he kissed me! Hopeful yet possessive, tenderly aggressive. He wasn’t just ravishing me, like I’d seen men do in movies. There was no clumsy pawing or groping. He was treasuring me. Every gentle caress, every feather-soft kiss, was deliberate, and all with the purpose of both savoring me and pleasuring me. To be handled with such care, such devotion, made me quiver with elation from head to toe.

  My fingers got a mind of their own and stealthily slid up under his shirt, only making me aware of their roguish actions when the feel of the hot flesh of his abs jolted me. I let them explore, roaming my fingertips up and over each hill and valley of his abdominal muscles, and then smoothing out over his chest to glutton my senses with his delicious heat. My hand continued to roam under his shirt, exploring every inch of him, and he let out the most exciting whimper, sighing through our lips.

  That separation of our mouths encouraged me to pull his shirt completely off. I curled my fingers around the bottom of the fabric and tugged upward, and he eagerly obliged, pulling it the rest of the way over his head. And there he was, gloriously bare-chested under me. My eyes ravenously devoured the site, satiating themselves on the most perfectly sculpted golden chest they had ever seen. My eyes burned across his broad muscular shoulders, down the dip of his collarbone, over the plain of his pecs—making me blush as they trained on his dark pink nipples that begged to be nibbled on—and down his washboard abs that so handsomely framed his belly-button and disappeared under the fabric of jeans.

  And he just let me stare at him for as long as I wanted, gazing at me adoringly, patiently, all the while. I couldn’t return his patience. It felt like I had waited an infuriatingly long time to have him in my arms, and every part of me demanded every part of him right now!

  I hurriedly pulled off my shirt, getting frustrated when it got stuck over my head and then yanking it off and throwing it away with a huff of impatience. My mouth closed over his again and I was blind once again, letting my sense of touch be my vision. I slid my hands around his naked waist and pulled myself as close to him as I could get, needing to be even closer. When it wasn’t enough, I rolled over, tugging him to roll over on top of me. The thrill of having his large body crushing down on mine was inebriating. And when his mouth trailed down my jaw, my chin, and nibbled into my neck, I was so overwhelmed with raw sensation that I nearly ceased to exist.

  It suddenly occurred to me that we both still had too many clothes on, so my fingers aptly maneuvered to remedy the problem. They nimbly trekked down the length of his smooth back and scooped down the front of his waist to find the button of his jeans. When the sound of his zipper coming down broke the fevered silence of the room, his whole body stiffened, and he let out a tortured groan. The stiffness that responded in one
particular area drove me completely wild, making a sort of primitive drive take over, and it encouraged me to proceed. I hooked my thumbs under the top of his jeans and tried to pull them downward.

  Another even louder groan escaped, this time followed by his hand wrapping around my wrist and gently pulling it away. He lifted his head away from mine enough for me to see his face fully, and then shook his head.

  I gave him a pleading, questioning look.

  He rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. “You have no idea how badly I want to,” he said, his voice deep and raspy with tense restraint. “How badly I have missed you for so long.” He squinted with his own frustration. “But this is just too fast, my love. I want to do this right. And now, we have time.”

  And suddenly, the demanding need wavered, as my heart was struck by his words. My love. He called me my love. It made me realize that there was no need to rush things, and that I didn’t have anything to prove to him. He really did love me, more than any fairytale romance I had ever read about or seen in a movie. His love had withstood a thousand years of waiting for me, and it didn’t need a physical act to glue us together.

  He rolled off of me and lay beside me, draping an arm across my bare torso to caress my other arm. I tried to hold it back, but another set of fresh, raw emotions forced itself out, and warm tears spilled down my face.

  Killian was immediately alarmed, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at me.

  “No, please, don’t cry,” he cooed, wiping at my tears with the pad of his thumb. “It wasn’t my intention to reject you, please don’t think that’s what I’m doing—”

  “No, it’s not that,” I said with a sniffle. I took a breath and tried to wrangle in these emotions, to put them into words. “It’s just…all my life, I thought that I was cursed, that I was some demon sent here for wicked purposes. I have hated myself for so long.”

  Killian frowned. “I’m so sorry for that. It’s all my fault. I cursed you with this life.”

  I shook my head. “No, Killian.” I cupped my hand gently around the curve of his face, stroking his cheek with my thumb. “I now realize that this life is not a curse, that I’m not cursed. In fact, I’m the luckiest person in the history of the world. Because of your undying love for me, I got to have one last chance at life, and now one last chance…with you.”

  He smiled and closed his eyes as he nuzzled into my palm.

  “I think that my love for you might be just as strong,” I confessed, my voice smaller. “Did you know that I’ve dreamt about you all my life?”

  His eyes popped open and looked at me in genuine surprise. “You have? What sort of dreams?”

  I smiled at his reaction. I had been wondering if he was somehow behind them, but now I knew he did not know about them. It proved that these dreams meant something.

  “It’s always the same dream,” I said. “A compilation of moments. You were running to me in grassy field outside of a castle, picking me up and kissing me. And then, the two of us fighting with swords and army against a bunch of armed men, and…you die…”

  My eyes darted away at that part, always trying to run away as if they could escape that inevitable outcome. But they returned to Killian’s face, needing to read the emotions this bit of information incited.

  He looked bemused, with just a hint of excitement sparking green in his grey eyes. “That’s incredible. I never once thought you’d remember me. Of course, I always hoped that some part of you was still mine, that even though you loved other men in your lives, your heart and soul still belonged to me.”

  Curiosity drove me. “Does this sort of thing happen often?” I asked. “I mean, you’ve gotten to watch the world for the last thousand years. Do people often dream of lovers from past lives?”

  “I don’t get to see what goes on in people’s minds, I only get to see their actions,” he said. “While I had heard people claim they’ve dreamt of each other before, I never put much stock into it. But there have been a handful of couples during my term that repeatedly found each other life after life. When their souls cross over, you can almost see a pale, translucent strand that binds them together.” He paused for a moment, deep meaning swimming in his eyes as he looked down at me. “It leads me to believe that some of us truly are meant to be together. I have always believed that was the case with you and me, even though fate has repeatedly suggested otherwise.”

  “I think it must be true,” I said, looking into his eyes. “When I first saw you, on the other side of the field from me, I freaked out. I didn’t understand how it could be possible that the man I’d dreamt of all my life could be real. And then there was the fact that I thought you were a ghost. I thought you were somehow haunting me.”

  Killian abruptly laughed. “You thought I was a ghost? No wonder you were so leery of me. I knew that you would sense something different about me, but it never occurred to me you would think I was dead! This makes so much sense now.”

  I fought the urge to laugh with him. “I’m glad you’re finding it amusing, but it wasn’t so funny at the time. You sincerely scared the hell out of me.” I bit my lip and let the serious note reenter my voice. “But even so, there was still a part of me that was so strongly drawn to you. The pull was irresistible. It made me kind of hate you. But only because I was trying so hard not to fall for you. I didn’t realize that the fall had already happened, a thousand years before I was born.”

  He smiled, a genuinely brilliant, heart-stopping smile. “I wish you could feel how happy you just made me,” he said.

  “I think I can,” I said with hiccupping breath.

  Our lips came together for a sweet, brief kiss that said so much more than a thousand words ever could. We held our faces close after, our noses lightly brushing against one another. And then we both lay back down on the bed, and Killian tucked my head on his chest under his chin and wrapped his arms around me. This was heaven. The actual place couldn’t possibly compare to this.

  “Tell me about our life,” I said. I snuggled into his chest, a deep comfort tingling through my body from the top of my head to the ends of my toes. “What was it like? How did we meet?”

  I couldn’t see Killian’s face, but I could feel his smile through the muscles in his jaw above my head.

  “You were the daughter of the general who trained me,” he started his story. “He had always had high hopes of marrying you off to wealthy lord, but you wouldn’t have it. As a young girl, you would always sneak into his den and put on his armor and play with his sword. You wanted to fight like he did. Your mother had raised you on stories of Greek heroes, and you had romanticized the idea of battle. You didn’t want to be some man’s trophy; you wanted to be a hero.

  “Your father scolded you again and again for touching his things, for not being the little girl he wanted you to be. But I saw a fire in you, and I trained you behind his back. You were a natural. You weren’t as strong as me, but you were fast, and you fought dirty.” He rubbed my shoulder and chuckled.

  “Some things never change,” I said with a smile and a shrug.

  “It didn’t take long for me to fall for you,” Killian continued. “I wanted to marry you, but I knew your father would never allow it. As it was, when he found out I’d been training you, he nearly killed me. He banished me from his home, from his land, and sold me to the service of a different general. But that couldn’t keep us apart. Nothing could. I snuck back several times to see you over the next few years, every time I returned from a battle. We planned to run away together. I just needed to round up a few more funds. But the harder I tried to gain an upper hand, the more difficulties life threw at me, and I ended up making some awful choices.

  “One day, it seemed that fate tilted in our favor. Your father had been killed in battle. We could finally marry, with no one to stand in our way. But as it turned out, your father had secretly promised you to a Duke who he knew could take care of you, a vile man with enough money to buy his way out of every
thing. The Duke tried to take you away. He dragged you out of the castle when you wouldn’t willingly go with him. I got there just in time. The Duke and I fought, and I was forced to kill him.

  “We fled. We planned to go to the Orient and start a new life, but that was when war came. The Catholic Church needed soldiers to fight its war in the Holy Lands, promising that the heathens would bring death to the rest of us if we didn’t act soon. I was duty bound to fight, and you swore you would never leave my side. I tried my hardest to leave you behind, but you fought tooth and nail to join me. In the end, you made one hell of a soldier. We were the perfect pair.”

  “Did we ever get married?” I asked, my eyes closed, ready for sleep.

  Again, I could feel his smile. “We did. A clergyman-turned-soldier married us on the night before our first battle.”

  “Sounds like a fairytale,” I yawned teasingly.

  “It was the happiest moment of my life,” Killian said, and it was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep.

  I woke up to the touch of soft fingers caressing from my shoulder down the length of my back. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his fingers tracing long lines up and down my body, skipping happily over the material of my bra as they passed. I could have enjoyed this forever. But sun light was creeping in through a window somewhere, shining on my freshly conscious eyelids and reminding me that there were matters to resolve today.

  I reluctantly opened my eyes and tilted my head up to look at Killian.

  “Morning, beautiful,” he said, his voice like a velvet caress to my ears.

  “Good morning,” I said, arching my back in a stretch before cuddling up against him once more. “How did you sleep?”

  “I don’t sleep,” he responded.