“Kochanie,” he whispered, seconds before they blinked out of her condo.
The world around her disappeared, replaced by cool air, until they appeared in Cleg’s condo one story down. The contemporary furnishings were replaced with more traditional surroundings that had a touch of modern mixed in. Other than the furnishings, the condos were entirely the same, expect Cleg’s didn’t have a loft. The two bedrooms were just off the living area.
“Not hard if you just focus.” The coolness disappeared as they stepped away from Thanatos.
“What the hell?” Cleg stood before them, his service weapon pointed at them.
“Cleg, it’s me.” She turned in Death’s embrace to face her brother, holding up her hands as she said a silent prayer he could see her in the dark condo. A bullet wound because she snuck up on him wasn’t in her plans for the night.
“Damn it, Jael! You scared the shit out of me.” Cleg lowered his weapon. “What the hell are you doing here anyway, and since when can’t you use the door?”
“That would be my doing. I’m trying to get her used to her abilities.” Death’s arm was still around her waist, holding her to him.
“Fine, then tell me what you’re doing here.”
“Get dressed and then we can talk.” She nodded to the towel tied around Cleg’s waist.
He looked down at himself as if he’d just realized he was almost naked, water still dipping from his body. “Give me five minutes. I just got out of the shower when I heard you.” He turned on his heels and stalked back to his room.
She wanted to relax against Death’s body, to feel the comfort and safety in his embrace. Was her own body confirming her destiny? She wasn’t sure and wouldn’t give into temptation in the middle of a hunt for a serial killer. Once things were over, the killer was captured and the spirits got the justice they deserved, she would consider her feelings for Death.
“Do you think Lucifer knows there might be a Pishacha killing people in this town?”
“There’s very little Lucifer is unaware if. I suspect it might be a challenge to see how Cleg, even you, will handle it. Cleg is the heir to the underworld throne, he’ll rule over demons, if he can’t control them now then he’ll never be able to control Hell.” Death’s fingers played along the small of her back in an intimate way, slightly unnerving considering what they were discussing.
“Lucifer?” Cleg asked from the doorway of master bedroom, buttoning his shirt.
“Death believes you’re looking for a Pishacha for the murders. I asked him if he thought Lucifer knew there might be a demon killing women here.”
“Trust me, if that is the case not only does Lucifer know, he most likely is allowing it or at least looking the other way. Do you have any evidence that it’s a Pishacha?” Cleg stalked toward them. The dark circles around his eyes had lessened, making him look healthier than he had the last time she’d seen him.
“There was something about the scene that pickled my scenes. While Jael was showering, I went back to Johnsonville Road to see if there was any trace of something I could pick up on. That’s when I recognized the scent, from many years ago when I came across one.” Death’s fingers stilled just above the waistband of her jeans. “Pishacha are voracious flesh-eating demons that are caught in a limbo between Heaven and Hell, somewhat like the spirits you help, Jael. A Pishacha were at one time human, unable to redeem themselves for the terrible sins they committed during their lives. They are cursed to limbo, eating flesh to survive pain free.”
“How do we kill a Pishacha?” Jael inquired.
“The only way you can kill one is with a blessed sword, either decapitation or thrusting the sword through the heart. Seeing that we don’t have a blessed sword we will have to make due with trapping it in a spirit box.”
“Spirit box?” She wasn’t sure that she liked the sound of what that implied.
“Some spirits no matter how hard you try will not find the justice they seek. It can make them, how shall I put it…unruly. That leaves us with no other option but to contain them for our safety as well as others.” Death looked at Cleg for a moment before returning his gaze to her. “Other spirits might have evil intentions, they don’t completely deserve Hell but Heaven isn’t an option either. They are left to roam Thanatos until they’ve earned their way into one or the other. This can also make for dangerous spirits.”
“So you trap them in a box for all eternity?” The very thought turned Jael’s stomach.
“Until there’s another option, yes, but they are unaware. It’s like a permanent sleep for them, they’ll dream a life they want. Would you rather we allow them to stay here, turning into a poltergeist to harm someone?”
She glared at Death, disappointed that he could think she’d want such a thing. “No. You said the spirits couldn’t harm me.”
“Harm you, that’s correct. If they become a dangerous spirit or poltergeist, they can harm others. The Grim Reaper has a natural protection against all types of spirits. The only exception is when a demon is backing them, feeding them powers to attack. That normally only occurs when a spirit is trying to earn their way into one of the eternal places.”
“Now that you two have all that cleared up, can we get back to the reason you popped into my home in the middle of the night?” Cleg glared at them. While Death gave her a lesson on Reaping, Cleg had added his shoulder holster, gun, and badge without her noticing he’d left the room.
“Yes, the Pishacha. Do you even have a spirit box?” She looked back at Death.
“I have them in Nightscape, we’ll get one and be ready for the next attack.” Death looked down at her. “Accompany me?”
“Nightscape?” She answered his question with her own.
“Ready?” Cleg interrupted. “That means we have to know where and when before he can kill the next victim.”
“Nightscape is my homeland,” Death told Jael. “Like Thanatos it’s a different plane, and traveling between the two is no different than coming here.” Death looked to Cleg before answering his question. “Between the two of you, finding the Pishacha can be done.”
“What?” Jael couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice or her expression.
“One of your abilities is to see unscheduled deaths—murders. Cleg should be able to track demons that are part of Hell’s regime. Any outcasts would be harder, but he might be able to catch a faint trace of them.”
“I’ve got to check in with Jaz, see where the investigation is going. I want you to take Jael to Nightscape, get the spirit box, and get her ready to find the next scene before he kills the woman.” Cleg grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch, and slipped it on. “We need to catch him before we have another dead body at our feet.”
“Be safe, Cleg,” she called to him as he neared the door.
“It’s not me he might be after.” Cleg opened the door and disappeared to the other side before shutting it behind him.
“What did he mean by that?”
“It’s possible the Pishacha was released by your father, possibly to make you scared enough to embrace your connection to him, or worse to kill you if you rejected him. Now shall we go to Nightscape?”
She shook her head. “First tell me how I will know when there’s an unscheduled death?”
“You have to focus, you’ll feel the life slipping from them, the fear. No matter how far away they are, you can feel it. This will be closer so it will be easier. There’s also a physical pain for some Grim Reapers, normally a stabbing in the stomach, others feel what the victim is going through.”
She took a step back, out of Death’s embrace, her eyes wide. “I might feel everything that happens to them if I do this? To feel their skin sliced from their body? You can’t ask that of me, it’s too much.”
“It’s your choice. You know the consequences if you don’t.” He leaned close to her, bringing his face to just above hers. Before she could ask what he was doing, he kissed her. Pressing his lips to hers, the heat blossomed
until it was a raging fire. Their kiss was anything but sweet and timid like a first kiss normally is, instead it was hot and heavy. They kissed with a frenzy, each drinking the other in as if they were dying of thirst. She couldn’t get enough of him.
He broke the kiss, leaving her weak in the knees. “See what you can have with me, kochanie?”
Oh, crap!
“Now can we go to Nightscape?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.
“Tell me about it.” She refused to take his hand. Answers were needed before she could travel to a world that could hold more danger.
“Nightscape isn’t a place to be fearful of. No harm will come to you while you’re there. Nightscape is a plane that things like myself have made their home.”
“Things?”
“Beings brought into this world by a thought. Those of us who still serve a purpose reside in Nightscape. We’ve made our homes throughout the plane. Growing up, children believe in Santa, Cupid, the tooth fairy, Mother Nature, and everyone else.” He slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “We have all divided the plane into our own areas. I promise you’ll come to no harm.”
“You’re telling me they exist?”
“Why not? It’s people believing in them that keeps them alive. Once people stop believing, they disappear or possibly change to something new if there’s something that is needed. Now is not the time for any of this. We need to get the spirit box before he attacks again. It’s getting late so we need to be quick in case he attacks tonight.”
“What about you? If people stop believing in you, will you vanish?”
“No. We are a key part in how life and death works. Even if no one believes in me I serve a purpose. I will always be here.”
There was another nail in the coffin as to why they couldn’t be together. When she was nothing but dust in the ground he’d still be here, training another Grim Reaper. Unlike him she wasn’t immortal, eventually she’d die, and there was no way around that.
Chapter Eight
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to her new surroundings, to see through the gray and blue streaks. The heat hit her, making it hard to breathe. I’m in hell, Death lied to me. Shit, I made a mistake. She pulled away from him in fear.
“Damn it, Thunder!” Death hollered, vibrating the walls around them. “Thunder is always playing tricks on people. He knows some of the Reapers in the past have thought they were working for Hell at first, and this is his way of freaking you out.”
“Thunder?”
“He’s Mother Nature’s son.” He slid his arm around her waist. “Welcome to my home.”
The beautiful white marble floors had silver swirled through it. The walls were a deep shade of wheat, with an accent wall the color of warm brandy. Everything was homely and welcoming. None of it was like she pictured. It was too bright, too airy. She’d imagined lots of black. After all, that was what Death seemed to favor.
The whole place was completely open, a large king size bed dominating the far wall. The bed was more surprising than the rest of the space. It was covered in a sapphire comforter that matched his eyes, blue, white, and silver pillows decorating the bed. Amongst it all the black headboard had silver swirls mixed in, and it caught her attention the most.
“Not what you were expecting?”
“I’m that transparent?” She spun around, taking in everything. “It’s beautiful, just so unlike you.”
“You called, my Lord?” A man with shoulder length black hair with what looked like bleached strips through it appeared just off the kitchen area. The white in his hair gave him an aged look, but he couldn’t have been older than his early thirties.
Death stalked toward the other man. “Thunder, I can’t believe you, and don’t call me that. We go through this with each new Reaper, leave Jael alone.”
“But…my Lord.” Thunder bowed, a full one nearly in half.
“Thunder, I’m warning you.”
Jael couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. Thunder was doing her best to make her believe she could be working for the Devil himself. The laughter abruptly stopped when the men looked at her. “Thunder, I know who you are. Your antics won’t make me run from here screaming. I have already met Lucifer and have promised him that if he wants a fight I’ll give him one.”
“Ahh, a Reaper who can handle herself, I like that.” Thunder winked. “I’ve heard what’s happening, so I’m sure you have a lot to attend to. If you need someone to watch your back you know where I am.” Thunder popped out, leaving them alone again.
“I’m sorry about him. Thunder loves practical jokes. A new Reaper is the best entertainment for him, it breaks up the monotony of eternity. Make yourself at home.” He strolled across the room to the large mahogany bookshelves, one on each side of the fireplace. As he studied the bookshelf, she realized there was something missing.
“Windows.”
He slid a book off the shelf and turned to her. “What?”
“There are no windows.”
“Correct. There’s no view as in your world unless it’s constructed. Using magic you could have a view, but I didn’t see the point since I’m between the planes so much. The best thing about Nightscape is places can be changed in a blink, views, bedrooms, anything you want can be changed.”
It seemed unbelievable to her. After everything she’d seen and heard, she was still having problems comprehending that he could change his home to fit his needs. “I found it odd, but it has nothing to do with me.”
“Actually it has everything to do with you. If you join with me, this will be your home too.”
Her jaw fell open. Every time she thought the surprises were over, the ground fell out from under her again. “Are you saying I’d have to give up everything I’ve worked for? My condo building, my job, friends, Cleg…”
“Not give up, just distance. You can travel between the planes anytime you wish, but once the bonding has taken place you would be more of a target than you are. If you choose me, Lucifer will see you as the ultimate threat, he will seek to destroy you before we can abolish him. Staying in Nightscape when possible will keep you safe.”
Slightly lightheaded, she made her way to the couch. The heels of her boots clicking against the marble was almost deafening. “No matter what I feel, nothing can happen between us. You’re immortal, I am not. There’s no escape from death. One day I’ll die, just as all the other Grim Reapers have before me. That is not fair to you. Nor is it fair for you to ask me to stand against Lucifer when it surely means my death.”
“I must see Abaddon for the spirit box.” He came to her, book in hand.
“The destroyer.” She wasn’t sure how she knew, but Abaddon meant the destroyer. Maybe it was because she understood every language, even ancient ones, or maybe she’d heard the name before. At that moment, she didn’t care.
“He’s not what you might think.” He smirked. “His name leads you to believe otherwise, but he’s reasonable.”
“Isn’t he part of Lucifer’s regime?”
“Abaddon is like you, he was Lucifer’s first child, born of mixed blood. Some folklore is just that, lore, and the information is wrong. He’s called the destroyer because he could raise the dead with a wave of the hand and destroy more than mountains. He can destroy everything anyone holds dear and more.”
“Are you picturing Abaddon in some dark underground world, with fire and brimstone? If so, kochanie, you couldn’t be more wrong. If you want, you could come with me. I just thought you’d prefer to read this while I’m away. It will answer your questions.” He held out the book to her. “We’d make a wonderful pair.”
She took the book from his hands. There was magic to the book that sang to her, warming under her touch. The smooth leather under her fingers, the rough binding and jagged pages let her know the book was old. Opening it she found the pages faded with time but the handwriting clear as if preserved for the reader. He disappeared without a word as she thought of what woul
d happen if they joined together. If he impregnated her, she would pass the gift to her child.
Having Death’s child was more than she was willing to commit to now. What kind of world would that be, stuck forever in Nightscape, no other children to play with? To be removed from all the wonderful things she experienced growing up, surrounded by immortals that her and the child would never live up to. None of it got them past the fact that she would still be dead before she could fulfill the prophecy.
* * *
Jael sat curled up on the sofa reading for what seemed like hours when Death finally returned. Completely overloaded with information and questions, she was pleased to see him. Setting the book aside, she looked up to see him holding a wooden box with symbols carved into it.
“You were gone a while, is everything okay?”
He glanced at his watch. “I was only gone fifteen minutes.”
“That’s not possible. I’ve read that book twice to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
“Sometimes time moves differently in Nightscape than on your plane. My watch is bespelled to stay in sync with your land.” He sat the box on the coffee table and sank down next to her. “Did you learn everything you wanted?”
“Is this all true?”
“Yes. It was all written when I was thought into this world. Only after the completion of the book was I made aware of the prophecy. Do you have any questions?”
She stared at him for a moment before a burst of laughter erupted. “More questions than you can believe, but I think I need to wrap my mind around this first.” She dragged her hand through her hair, tugging her way through the loose curls. “It’s hard to believe I could become immortal, let alone actually stand a solid chance against defeating the Devil. It’s so unbelievable.”
He slid his arm around her shoulders. “Has it helped you make your decision?”
Her emotions where in torment she had no idea what she wanted any longer. It was all too much, sending her heart and mind in two different directions. For the first time since she met Nathan her heart wanted someone else—Death. Her mind kept screaming it was too illogical and Nathan was safe. Was there such a thing as safe any longer?
A Touch of Death Page 7
