by Tara Fuller
“I don’t need your pity or your apologies.”
“I know that. But you deserve the apology. If I hadn’t asked you to wait, you wouldn’t have almost lost that soul.”
His entire body tensed, and a chilling darkness flared in his eyes. He stepped forward until the heat of him sizzled in the air between us.
“Let me make something very clear, Red,” he said. “I didn’t do anything for you. I don’t do anything for anyone besides the man who tells me which rotten waste of flesh I need to pick up next.”
My father.
The thought caused a knot to form in my chest. The man who had shown me nothing but kindness and love and guidance was the one who sent this reaper into the fiery pits of Hell every day. He had condemned him to this existence. I’d always known Balthazar’s place. He was the supreme puppet master in a world of death. The commander behind every reaper, the decider of every soul’s fate. But here among a world of peace, where souls were ushered home, it was so easy to block out the darker side, to see only the good in the identity that was carved out for him in this afterlife.
Maybe it was just my nature, to bring light to those trapped in the dark. Maybe it was the undeniable guilt that came with knowing my father may have been the cause for the sadness in this soul. Or maybe Sky was right: I felt too much. I wanted too much. And now that Tyler and April were gone, I needed a new challenge. Whatever the reason, I felt an unquenchable need to bring this reaper joy. To erase his torment, even if for only a moment.
I reached up and touched his cheek, forcing the calming joy in my fingertips to flow into him. I fought past the burn of his skin and reveled in the way his soul greedily began to drink in the light. Tension melted off his muscular shoulders, and he shuddered as his eyelids drifted shut. In exchange, the darkness and torment in him bled into me, searching for something to destroy. I whimpered as it filled me to the point of pain. The sharp, fiery sensation battled the joy within me. He’d endured so much. Death and heartache and loss. It was a living, throbbing thing inside him. Abruptly, he jerked away from my touch, eyes wide with panic. He scrambled away as if I were made of poison.
“What the hell did you do?” He rubbed his jaw where the glittering imprint of my fingers still lingered like a glowing tattoo. “Why did you touch me?”
“I was just trying to help.” I flexed my fingers, trying to stop the shaking. “I was taking some of the pain away. There’s so much…”
He dropped his hand to his side, where I noticed thick black smoke swirling up from his scythe. He shook his head as an ominous pit of shadows and screams spun into existence below him.
“I don’t need you to take it away,” he growled. “I earned it.”
“But—”
He held his hand up and his chest heaved with anger. “Stay away from me.”
In an instant, the ground dropped out from under him, and the dark pit swallowed him whole.
Chapter 5
Easton
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I tapped my ash-covered boot against the tile floor of the hospital, waiting for the bleeding waste of space hooked to the monitors to give up already. It was too quiet here. Too still. Even the screams of the dead had faded into the back of my mind, making room for a skull full of thoughts that I’d been trying to avoid. I rubbed my hand over my face, where Red’s touch still lingered, as if I could scrub the memory of her away. I gritted my teeth, thinking about the calm that her innocent touch had left behind. It hadn’t lasted long, had taken only seconds for the fire inside me to burn the serenity away, but the ghost of it haunted me, waging a losing battle with the darkness that owned me.
And I hated it.
I didn’t deserve that kind of peace. And I sure as hell didn’t need some do-gooder angel’s pity. Almighty! I needed out of this room. Off this planet. I needed the heat of Hell. A little pain to ground me. I wrapped my fingers around my blade and closed my eyes, trying to remember the quick slice of pain that would take the peace away. It wasn’t there. The only thing I saw behind my closed lids were calming, bottomless blue eyes intent on taking away the only thing that kept me in my skin. Screw Cyril’s help this time. I was taking this one into the pits myself.
“Come on, you miserable bastard,” I groaned, leaning back in the chair beside the bed. “Give up!”
I stood and jerked my small curved blade from its holster at my side, watching the wrinkled human in front of me suck in his last greedy breaths.
“Somebody has their panties in a twist today,” a voice said from the doorway. I closed my eyes, summoning enough patience not to turn my blade on the jackass in the Orgasm Donor T-shirt, leaning on the doorjamb. Cash, better known in the afterlife as one of the only shadow walkers in existence, the newest member of the “undead” on the block, and the guy who had managed to seduce the most unseduceable girl I’d ever met in my life—or afterlife, for that matter.
Anaya.
Anaya, the Heaven’s reaper turned guardian, whom I’d inadvertently developed a soft spot for over the past four hundred years. The girl I was trying really hard not to resent for getting involved with this asshat and leaving me high and dry, with two territories to cover.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” I lowered my scythe and shoved it back into its holster, scowling at the other jackass in the room, clinging to life and wasting my time.
Cash waltzed into the room and sank into one of the waiting chairs, propping his boots up on the bed. “You say that like she’s my keeper.”
“That’s exactly what she is.”
He flipped me off and folded his hands behind his head. “I told her I was having a Steven Seagal movie marathon at Em’s. That was enough to buy a few hours.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
“You wish.” He grinned. “I got the call halfway through Under Siege about a soul popping up around the hospital. Apparently the poor guy missed the memo that he’s dead.”
I leaned against the wall and attempted to block out the growing screams rattling my skull. “Any luck?”
“Nah. He’s an elusive little bastard,” he said. “Figured I’d come harass you until he lets his guard down.”
I looked over at the heart monitor, willing it to die. “Lucky me.”
“Speaking of flying under the radar, you’ve been noticeably absent lately.”
A nurse popped into the room and stopped when she saw Cash. He flashed her a Hollywood-worthy grin and dropped his boots to the floor.
“Can I help you?” she said, checking her chart. “I didn’t know Mr. Owen had any family.”
“Great-uncle,” Cash covered, quickly. “I just flew in this morning.”
“Oh…” She frowned and gently placed the chart back into the slot at the end of the bed. “Would you like me to have the doctor come in and speak with you? He’s…he doesn’t have long. But maybe Dr. Lancaster can shed some light on how long to expect.”
Cash shot a glance my way and raised a brow. The screams in my skull reached an almost deafening level. She could call half the hospital in and it wouldn’t matter. In a few minutes, this guy would be dead, and his dear nephew would be long gone.
“That would be great,” Cash said, putting on his best sad face. “Thank you.”
I smirked and slid my scythe out. “You take acting classes in your spare time?”
The nurse walked out of the room, leaving the door open behind her, and Cash stood. “No classes needed. Just my natural awesomeness shining through.”
“Right.” I narrowed my gaze on him, ready to get this over with. “Seeing as we don’t have much time, are you going to tell me why you really came by?”
The humor drained from his face. “You should go see her. Finn, too.”
“I’ve been busy,” I said, inwardly cringing at the mention of my best friend’s name. He’d started it all. Falling for a human, risking everything to have an existence with her. If he hadn’t fallen for Emma, Anaya would have never met Cash. Everything would
still be as it should.
“You’re avoiding them.”
“If Anaya and Finn miss me so damn much, then maybe they shouldn’t have left me to deal with both of their workloads.” I waved my blade at the old man in the bed. “You’ll have to pass on my apologies, but my social calendar is a little full at the moment.”
Cash studied me like he saw right through my bullshit. It made me want to bolt. I didn’t owe him excuses or explanations. He was nothing to me. Less than nothing.
“Look…” I raked my fingers through my hair. “They’re better off if I stay away, okay? They’re finally happy. They don’t need me hanging around, reminding them of the life they ran from the first chance they got.”
“They weren’t running from you,” he said. “They weren’t running away from anything. They were just…running toward something. Something better.”
“Yeah, well…the farther they run from me, the better.”
“I…” He trailed off and his brows pulled together as he looked around the room.
“What is it?”
“I think Hell may have just frozen over,” he murmured, turning full circle. “Because I have the strangest urge to hug you right now. And no offense…but I really don’t want to hug you.”
Warmth and comfort wrapped around me like a blanket. A wildflower fragrance smothered the stale scent of death coating the room. Static spread over my skin, jolting me into awareness. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of red zip past the door.
Gwen. Of course it was Gwen.
“Damn it, Red…”
Cash looked at the door and back to me, confused. “Red?”
“An angel,” I said, waiting for her to reappear, disappointed when she didn’t and hating myself for it. “I picked up one of her projects earlier today and now I can’t shake her.”
Cash snorted. “Maybe you should invest in some angel repellent.”
“I thought I was angel repellent,” I grumbled, rubbing the spot on my face that still tingled with her essence. Jesus…just the memory of her touch had me tied up in knots. This was not good. This was a freaking disaster waiting to happen.
“She must be something to have you all in a tizzy.” Cash laughed. “Anaya is going to be pissed that she missed this.”
“Screw you,” I snapped. “Don’t you have a soul to hunt down?”
“What? And miss this?”
A growl rumbled in my chest, and I slid the handle of my blade through my palm. Cash chuckled and sauntered to the door, stopping to tap his fingers on the doorjamb.
“Good luck with the angel.”
He winked and ducked out of the room just as the monitor beside me flatlined. A wave of relief washed over me. Finally.
“Sorry, Pops,” I said. “Time to go.”
I lifted my scythe over my head and plunged through flesh and bone. His wrinkled body didn’t put up much of a fight. I glanced up at the doorway, half expecting Gwen to be watching me. She wasn’t.
Screams wailed inside my skull, pressing, clawing, wanting. I raised a shaking hand to my head and gripped a handful of hair.
“Son of a bitch…I’ve got the bastard. Calm down,” I hissed at the voices screaming at me.
“Actually, I’ve got this one,” a girl’s raspy voice said from the other side of the room. I forced my eyes open and looked up to find a soot-covered girl, scythe in hand. Her black shift dress was covered in ash and her eye twitched with the telltale sign of a skull full of screams.
“A little far from home, aren’t you, Beatrice?” I gritted out.
“I wouldn’t be worried about territory lines right now if I were you.” A grin touched the corner of her lips. “You must have pissed him off good this time.”
“What are you—?”
She nodded to something behind me, just as a brutally cold blast of air knocked me forward a step. A phantom icy hand gripped my spine, and my back bowed with the force of it. I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the blinding tunnel of light that split the air in front of me.
Balthazar.
Chapter 6
Gwen
I lay on my stomach and pressed my nose against the glass-bottom floor of Father’s office, watching stars swirl beneath me. When I felt lost, this was the place I felt the safest. Watching the constellations dance beneath the floor of a man who prearranged the deaths of thousands every day. Maybe there really was something wrong with me. The fact that I could be so at ease here couldn’t be normal.
Dragging my fingers along the glass, I watched the stars, which looked like fireflies, small and bright and curious. They chased my fingertips like comets streaking across the blackest sky. Between the flickering bits of fire, I couldn’t help but see Easton’s face there in the dark. Tormented and sad and angry. I could help him. I wanted to help him. Sky always said we choose the people we help. But it didn’t feel like a choice when I thought about Easton. Tasting his pain, his hurt, his sorrow…knowing I could take that away. It felt more like destiny.
The door to Father’s office swung open, and his heavy footsteps carried him across the room until he was standing over me. I didn’t look up. If I did, he’d do that freaky mind reading thing. Not that he could actually hear my thoughts, but he’d still know. One look from Father and he could decode all of my secrets.
“Gwendolyn?” He sounded amused. “Are you going to greet your father? Or are you just here for the floor?”
“Honestly?” As if anything less than honesty were even an option for someone like me.
“Always.”
“Mostly the floor,” I admitted.
“You could use a chair,” he said, still standing over me, waiting. “I wouldn’t mind.”
“I like it better down here with the stars. It’s peaceful.” A blue-and-silver star butted up against the glass beneath my nose. I smiled and it twinkled before blazing away to light the night.
“What’s bothering you, Gwendolyn?” he asked. “Why are you not at peace out there in the world?”
Out there. He said it like it was an entire universe of possibility. But for me it was nothing more than a box. A box that sheltered me from reality, only showing me half of what really mattered. The fact that I’d been so blindsided by Tyler’s death was proof of that. My job was curing sorrow and pain, and yet I knew nothing of what caused them. Father made sure of that. It’s why he’d chosen Sky to be my partner. My friend. While I gravitated to the most broken creatures, she always found a way to pull me back. Steer me somewhere safe. It’s why she was so upset when I’d chosen Tyler. Found peace in helping him. He’d actually needed the joy I had to give. Depended on it. Tyler wasn’t safe.
Pushing up on my elbows, I shrugged, unable to put my feelings into words. Or rather, not wanting to put them into words. I could feel him watching me, his arctic gaze demanding. He wanted an answer, and he wouldn’t like the one I had to give.
“I don’t know,” I finally said. It was the truth. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, why I felt hollow when all of the other angels felt whole, why I wanted things I shouldn’t. Why the loss of two humans made me want to fold into myself when Sky had already forgotten their names. These were things Father would never understand. They were things the Almighty would cast angels out for.
I folded my arms and rested my chin on them. Father sank down to the floor beside me, and my view of the stars fogged over. I imagined he didn’t have afternoon powwows on the floor for just anyone. No. He was doing this for me, to offer me some of the comfort I’d given him. I could feel the worry and concern rolling off him like waves. I felt guilty I made him worry. He was the leader of the dead, for God’s sake. He had enough on his plate.
His frosty fingers lifted my chin, and then I was met with his cold, honest eyes. Eyes that had seen millions meet their death. Eyes that saw right through me.
“Are you saddened by the loss of the humans you saw die today?” he asked. “I know you invested a lot of time in the boy.”
“Y
es,” I whispered. “I’d never…I just…”
“You’ve never witnessed a death before,” he finished for me.
I sat up, wrapping my arms around my knees, and nodded. It had been awful. It had been unnecessary. If I hadn’t meddled, if I’d just been able to let go like Sky had told me a thousand times, Tyler would be alive. I tried to comfort myself with the fact that Scout had helped him find his way back to April by now. They were both here, where pain and loneliness didn’t exist. Tyler deserved that. He deserved peace.
“It was awful,” I said.
Father sighed and rested a hand on my back. “I’d hoped to spare you from that. It’s not something you were ever meant to witness.”
“Don’t you think it’s strange that I know nothing of death considering who you are?”
His brows pulled together. “I wasn’t aware you were interested.”
“I’m not…I mean, I am,” I said. “I just want to understand it. I don’t like only seeing the pretty parts. The parts you allow me to see. I want to help people who need me.”
People like Tyler. Like Easton.
He sat back on his heels, the familiar hard look I’d come to know settling into his eyes. “I allowed you to see the human boy. He wasn’t pretty. He was one of the most broken, gnarled excuses for a human I’d ever seen when you found him.”
I stood, unable to control the jittery feeling in my legs, urging me to not back down. Not from this. If I backed down now, he’d never let me help anyone like Tyler again.
“Yes, and look what I did for him!” I said. “He was happy. He was in love. I could do that again. Mend someone broken. Make them new. Why do you hold me back from that?”
“Because you don’t know limits, Gwendolyn!” His voice was so loud it rattled the stars beneath us. When Father was angry, the world knew. It quaked and thundered with his presence. I flinched from his tone, and his jaw hardened as he attempted to calm himself. “You believe everyone can be fixed. They can’t. Some are meant to be forever broken. And if I let you attempt to save every miserable creature you come in contact with, you will ruin yourself. You will lose everything that makes you my Gwen.”
