by Tara Fuller
His Gwen. The day the Almighty gave me to Balthazar my fate had been sealed. I would never be my own. How could I be when I was his only link to peace? He would never risk losing me. Losing me meant losing a piece of himself, the only piece keeping him human. Because of this, I would never bring comfort to a land torn apart by war. I would never be responsible for bringing someone back from the brink. Not again. I’d been lucky he’d let me help Tyler. The look on his face said he’d never let it happen again. Which meant he’d never allow me to get close to someone like Easton. I belonged to him, and for the first time in my short existence, I resented that.
A humming sound saved me from having to say anything in return. It was for the best. I just would have angered him more. He sighed, the weight of the world in the sound. He pushed to his feet and crossed over to his desk. Behind it, a cloudlike chair materialized, and Father took his seat before pulling a gold tablet out of thin air. My breath caught in my throat. It was the tablet. The tablet that listed the death of every living being on the planet. Had Tyler been on there? Or had he been unexpectedly added when I’d interfered? I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to that, but I needed it.
Father peered up at me and raised a brow. “What is it now?”
“Was he…was Tyler on your list today?” I asked, heart in my throat.
He tapped a gold pen against his glass desk, inspecting me, trying to see through me again. “He’s dead. Why wouldn’t he have been on my list?”
“I interfered,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to. I was only doing my job, but I kept him there. He wouldn’t have been there if…”
I didn’t finish. I didn’t even know why I felt the need to explain. Father knew all of this. He owned me. He knew everything I did.
“No,” he finally answered. “He was an add-on. An unexpected death. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
He was calmer than I’d expected, but a dangerous electricity told me I wasn’t out of the woods. I knew Father would never harm me, but I also knew he could be creative when proving a point. None of that assuaged the dark, soul-changing guilt eating away at my insides.
I bit my bottom lip and shook my head. “I’m sorry,” I said. “But…he’s at peace, right? He’ll never know pain again. He’s with the person he loves.”
“Is he now?” Father seemed surprised, as if he’d expected Tyler’s soul to take another route to eternity. He didn’t know Tyler. He’d only seen the ugly parts. But that’s what Father did. He was a man surrounded by death and destruction. He didn’t know how to see the good. It’s why I’d been sent to him. He tapped on his tablet and a dark expression spread over his face as he read the text there.
“Father?”
He held up a hand to quiet me and rose from his chair. He swiped a hand over the starlit glass wall behind him. Images of the dead and dying and damned appeared, and he sifted through them. Did he remember I was in the room? I stepped back toward the door, away from the awful display spread out before me. There was so much death. So much darkness. They were only pictures, but even across all that space I could feel their pain. It reached for me, luring me, trying to pull me under.
He stopped on one image that suddenly filled the wall. A jolt of blue current crackled along the walls, and tension filled his wide shoulders. I inched around him trying to see what had him so upset.
“Gwendolyn, leave the room,” he growled.
I would have left. I should have left. But I couldn’t hide from the image staring back at me. It was a broken, sobbing mess of a boy. A horde of creatures dragged him through a bed of thorns, tearing at him, pulling him apart. He screamed, and they cackled with sick, unrestrained glee. My stomach lurched with an unfamiliar feeling so strong I fell to my knees. A choked sound tore up out of my throat, one that didn’t sound like me at all.
Oh God…I was feeling it. His pain. His torment. Across whatever Hell he was trapped in, it infected me like poison. Why would I feel this? Pain like this, across this much space, could be felt only when you’d bonded yourself to a soul. Guardians experienced it, but not one of us. I grabbed hold of the desk and peered through blurry vision at the boy on the wall.
“Gwen!” Father rushed around his desk and touched my shoulder. I flinched under his touch, and he swiped a hand through the air to clear the screen. He didn’t clear it fast enough. In an instant the pain drained away with the image, and Father’s fear took its place, heavy and insistent. I blinked it all away and scrambled away from his hands. Away from the truth.
“Gwen…”
I looked over his shoulder at the wall, and in that moment, my tiny corner of the world collapsed. It hadn’t just been a boy. It had been Tyler. And he was in Hell.
“What was that?” I gasped. “W-why was he there? That has to be a mistake. Tell me it’s a mistake, Father.”
He leaned against his desk, eyes wary. “It was a mistake.”
“How?”
Thunder rumbled overhead, and the air crackled between us. His brow furrowed. “I intend to find out.”
“We have to save him, Father,” I pleaded. “We can’t leave him down there. Send someone. Send me!”
“No.” His answer was hard, unwavering. I couldn’t accept it.
“But he doesn’t deserve—”
“Do you have any idea what you are asking?” he hissed. “He is in Hell, Gwendolyn. Hell.”
“Of course I don’t know!” I threw my hands up. “You never let me see anything that doesn’t involve rainbows and happily ever afters!”
His arctic gaze narrowed on me, pressing me to back down. I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not this time.
“You want to know darkness, Gwendolyn?” he asked. “You want to know death and pain?”
“I’ll never be the angel I’m meant to be if I don’t.”
He exhaled harshly and moved around his desk, grabbing his tablet and tapping something on the surface. “Fine. I’ll show you darkness, Gwen. If that’s what it takes to rid you of this fascination, to prove to you that you are not meant for that world, then so be it. But the obsession with the human ends now. He is lost. That’s the end of it. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” I watched him tap furiously onto his tablet and bit my lip. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you a guide.”
“A guide? What kind of guide?”
“A reaper,” he said. “You said you wanted to know death. I’ll introduce you.”
Hope bloomed inside me like a living thing, taking root and spreading through my insides. Easton. It was a long shot, but he was the one responsible for getting Tyler to Heaven. Surely he wouldn’t want the demise of an innocent on his conscience. How could he? I stepped forward, trying not to appear too eager, and touched Father’s desk.
“Can I make a request?”
Chapter 7
Easton
I pulled my boots out of the swirling vortex behind me, still shivering from the violent flash of ice that had flooded my veins. That kind of anger could come only from Balthazar. Why he felt the need to pull my ass, involuntarily, across the universe, was beyond me. The almost electric feel of the air around us told me I probably shouldn’t be too eager to find out. I shoved my scythe back into its holster and winced at the barrage of angry screams in my head. They hadn’t gotten what they wanted. I hadn’t gotten what I wanted. I cut a cold glare at Scout, who watched with open amusement as I shook the glitter of light from my duster.
“What the hell is this?” I stood and realized we were at the steps to the Great Hall. The mirrorlike walls stretched up to the sky, reflecting the empty gray nothingness of the Inbetween. This was the place where misplaced souls came to rot. There were very few reasons Balthazar would bring a reaper to the place where he orchestrated the death of every human on earth. None of those reasons were good. “I just saw you a few hours ago. What happened?”
“How should I know?” He folded his arms across his chest and sneered. “I’ve spent half the day in Hell, knee-
deep in God knows what thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me?” I raised a brow. “Don’t even try to drag me into whatever you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”
Scout turned to me and scowled. “I nearly became the main course on a barbecue buffet for your little demon friends downstairs doing you a favor,” he said. “It would be nice if you could drop the dickhead routine for like five minutes.”
“Doing me a favor?” I laughed, incredulously. “Please. If you hadn’t—”
The words lodged in my throat and dread crawled up my spine, intent on choking the truth out of me. No…no, no, no. He wouldn’t. He didn’t. I stood and turned to face Scout, who was brushing ash from his shoulder.
“No…” I shoved my fingers into my hair and fisted it, wishing I could feel the pain.
“What?” Scout’s brows pinched together as he watched me unravel before him.
“Tell me you didn’t take that kid to Hell,” I demanded, voice low and dangerous, even to my own ears.
“Where else would I have taken him? He was your charge.”
“He was meant for Anaya!” I dropped my hands to my sides and watched frost crawl up the marble steps like a living thing. “I was covering for Anaya. He wasn’t supposed to…”
I couldn’t finish. The horror in Scout’s eyes said it all. He’d delivered a Heaven-bound to Hell. Placed a pure soul in the hands of ravenous demons. Jesus…what was that boy going through at this moment? How many ways had they already broken him? I already knew the answer. I knew because they’d broken me in the same ways.
“I didn’t know,” he whispered. “You said he was yours. You specifically said ‘take mine.’ You never claim Anaya’s as your own.”
“I…” I gripped a handful of my hair trying to think back. “I did. Shit…”
Why had I called him mine? Any other day, I would call it a slip of the tongue. But this was so much more. He was in Hell because I’d used the wrong fucking word.
“Couldn’t you feel it?” I asked. “The pull?”
“Sort of…” Scout scratched the back of his head and looked away. “I was…distracted. By the time I had him out, I was just… I assumed he was yours.”
“The angels?” I clenched my teeth. “You couldn’t tell the difference because you were too busy staring at angel ass?”
I fought my instinct to pummel Scout and planted my feet firmly where they stood.
“At least now we know why we’re here.”
I turned toward the steps of the Great Hall, putting a little steel in my spine, preparing for the gigantic ass-chewing Balthazar had called us in for. Who was I kidding? An ass-chewing would be a blessing at this point. This was going to be worse. So much worse. The mirrored walls reflected the echoing emptiness of the Inbetween, and the marble steps crackled with frost beneath the lingering heat of my boots. A wall of fog closed in around us, swallowing up any of the vacant-eyed souls that lingered around the square. Scout fidgeted beside me, twirling his scythe nervously at his side.
“What are you worried about?” he asked, irritated. “This is my fault. I’m the one who carried him over.”
“You think that matters?” I faced him, and he stopped twirling his blade and holstered it. “Between the two of us, we couldn’t get one compliant soul to his rightful place in the afterlife. Besides, he was my responsibility. I…I…fuck…”
I’d promised him.
I’d promised him he’d see her again. I never made promises. I knew better, and still…I’d promised him.
“Any way you slice this…we’re both screwed,” I said.
Scout plowed his fingers through the mass of curls on his head and blew out a frustrated breath. “It wasn’t our fault. The angels distracted us.”
Distracted? That word didn’t even begin to encompass the storm Red had managed to stir up inside me.
“I don’t get distracted,” I said. “Speak for yourself.”
I turned and watched frost crawl up the doors like spiderwebs. He was close. Dread filled my hollow gut like a ball of lead. This wasn’t good. Even when Finn had pushed his limits by breaking reaper law and interacting with a human, Balthazar’s anger didn’t brew this kind of storm. And judging by the dark cloud of doom circling my ankles, I’d say his mood was nothing short of dangerous today.
“Why do you think he’s taking so long?” Scout whispered.
“Maybe he’s trying to decide how he wants to punish us. The possibilities are endless. He could toss us into Umbria, make us a meal for a hungry horde of shadow demons. Send us special delivery to Hell. Almighty knows the kinds of games they’d have planned for us there. Then again, he might just zap us into nothingness. No…that might be too easy. He could always—”
“Will you shut the hell up?” Scout hissed. “He’s probably just trying to scare us.”
“Is it working?”
Lightning sizzled in the fog around us, and Scout flinched, clutching his blade. He swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yeah…it’s working.”
“Good,” I said.
The doors flew open, and a gust of arctic air turned to steam against my skin. Our attention snapped forward while I straightened my spine, preparing for the worst. Balthazar started down the steps, the fog scattering at his feet, clearing a path. His icy blue eyes narrowed at the sight of us, and his nostrils flared.
“And here I thought the last of my trouble had disappeared along with your love-struck counterpart,” Balthazar said. “Apparently stupidity is catching.”
Tension radiated from Scout beside me, and I forced my jaw to clench to keep quiet. This wasn’t the time for words. There were no words to excuse this. We’d lost a soul. We’d compromised the eternity of a pure, un-damned soul. We’d sent him to an unimaginably hellish forever. The demons of the underworld reveled in our making a mistake like this. Scout may not realize the horror of a fate like that, but I’d seen it. Witnessed the very fabric of a soul be torn and shredded and turned into nothing more than another meal for beings that were forever hungry. Letting a soul go for that…it was a waste.
We deserved whatever twisted punishment he’d prepared. After four hundred years working with Balthazar, I’d learned that your ability to keep your mouth shut decided just how twisted that punishment would be. I only hoped Scout had learned the same lesson. One snap of our leader’s fingers and he could give us a taste of the pain we’d left behind in the land of the living. I knew, because I’d felt it. In four hundred years of delivering the damned, I’d met every brand of pain and punishment imaginable.
Balthazar looked back and forth between us, irritation creasing the space between his brows. “I’ve been informed a Heaven-bound soul wasn’t delivered today,” he said. “Any idea what could have happened to him?”
“I’m sorry—” Scout began, but I laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“It was my fault,” I said. “And as long as you keep two reapers doing the job of three, mistakes are going to keep happening. I can’t be in two places at once. I can’t keep juggling the pull of two afterlives.”
“Are you telling me how to do my job?” His cold eyes pinned me, warning me to back down.
“No. I’m saying I’ll fix this, but you’ve got to make a change. You’ve got to replace Anaya.”
Balthazar descended the steps and brought himself eye level with me. His cold gaze flared dangerously, and electricity crackled around us. “And how exactly do you plan to fix this?”
“I’ll go get him.”
“That might be difficult,” Balthazar growled.
Balthazar swept his hand through the air and the fog rippled out into a wall, light and color sparking to life, weaving together until an image appeared. Balthazar stepped back and I saw the boy from the wreckage at the café. He was bound and broken with nowhere to hide. Demons circled him in the dark, biting, touching, burning. He screamed when flesh sizzled, and the horde cackled with glee. I tore my eyes from his torment and instead studied his surroundings
. He wasn’t in Nightmare Alley. They’d taken him deeper. Into the city. Damn it…it was going to be like trying to find one particular grain of sand in a desert down there.
“No…” Scout sounded sick as the wall of images dissolved back into an empty gray fog before us. “No…he…”
“It’s a fool’s mission,” Balthazar pointed out. “There are no rescues in Hell. You should know that by now. He’s lost. Our time is better spent on other endeavors.”
Punishment.
My scythe burned through my duster, but I ignored the call, knowing there wasn’t a death on this planet that was going to get me out of this. Balthazar looked back and forth between us, gaze cold and calculating.
“You’re on restricted duty,” Balthazar finally said. “You’ll work the nursing home circuit until further notice. Maybe you’ll stay out of trouble there.”
Nursing home circuit? No….hell no. I’d spent half a millennium proving I was the best. In a place like that there would be nothing but time and silence and waiting…and Scout. Jesus, I could not handle being with Scout dusk till dawn for the foreseeable future. I’d rather be in Hell.
“You can’t be serious,” I said. “One mistake in four hundred and seventy years and you’re shelving me away to watch bedpan changings and heart monitors? I’m worth more than that.”
“Not you,” he said. “Just Scout. You have another task.”
“What kind of task?”
A flash of apprehension clouded his gaze for a moment, and then it was gone. Behind him, a girl with flame-red hair descended the steps, so violently bright against the dull gray backdrop that every soul’s vacant eye turned to see.
Gwen.
Beside me, Scout jabbed his elbow into my ribs, and I scowled. What was she doing here? Maybe this was my punishment. An eternity of awkward run-ins with the one creature in existence that had managed to catch me off guard and knock me flat on my ass.
“What is this?” I asked. “What is she doing here?”
“She is your assignment,” Balthazar said, sliding his arm around Gwen’s shoulders protectively.
