It shrieked and dove out of his path. The man in white leapt past the soul, crashing into a black cloaked figure the soul had not known was there—one that had snuck up behind it.
“Leave it,” the white figure said. “You can’t cut them down without warning.”
“Of course I can,” the reaper said, brushing himself off and standing. “Besides, look at it. It’s barely human anymore. These souls that have wandered too long alone up here…”
“That doesn’t mean it’s beyond redemption.”
The soul crept along the side of a building, but it stopped when they both turned to look at it huddled there. The figure in white stepped towards it. “That hair, though…wait…Is that…?” He tilted his head sideways and studied the soul, his brown eyes searching its eyes. As if against its will, the soul’s muscles began to relax, but something deep in its gut trembled. It had felt this before, had seen those eyes…but impossible. It had never seen a figure in white.
“Hello?” the soul said.
“It’s obviously one of ours,” the reaper said. “Look at that soul. That can’t get into heaven.”
“You’re right, but... Let me talk to her.”
“I don’t think so. She’s…strange. How did you get up here?” he asked the soul. “Are you from hell?”
“Are you the no-name reaper?” the white figure asked.
“Hello?”
The reaper laughed. “She’s no reaper.”
“What did you do to her?” the man demanded, turning to the reaper just as his blade cut towards the soul.
“No,” the man cried, diving for the reaper. The soul had just time to see him crash into the reaper as the blade sliced it back into darkness.
Chapter 8
The Last Soul
This time, it did not move beyond reaching for its wrist, where it had wrapped the lock of hair. It held it to its face, rubbing its cheek against it over and over, for what could have been eternity or an hour. When finally it moved, it turned around once and stumbled onto the street again, the exact place it had left. Choking smoke filled its lungs, but it remembered this time, remembered more than it had. It fell to its knees, relishing the biting pain, relishing the deafening roar of the world. It saw only red, though it kept its eyes squeezed shut.
It lay flat and gripped the earth, rubbed its skin on the cold asphalt until it bled, and spoke aloud, over and over, the only word it remembered how to say. It opened its eyes and stared blindly at the sky overhead. But as the sky darkened, its shivers turned to wracking tremors. Bloody scrapes covered its body, and it ached with an icy cold that made its bones reluctant to move. It huddled against a brick building behind a pile of rubble that blocked the icy wind. There, it curled into a ball and cradled the lock of white silk in its bloody hands, mindlessly stroking it until it turned red. It could not remember why it held this, or what it was, but it knew it was important.
“You’re back.”
The voice startled the soul and it froze, every muscle tight.
A figure crouched over the soul, silhouetted in the remaining light. “I’ve been waiting here at the portal to hell for a while. I didn’t know how much longer they’d let me stay. Almost all the souls are gone now.” He paused and studied the soul. “Do you remember me?”
The soul wanted to run, but it was too cold. It curled tighter into itself and whimpered. The man in white reached out and touched the soul.
Heat bloomed from his touch like a flower opening. She saw it, a red flower unfurling, blossoming, and bees dancing over the petals, a warm glow emanating from him, a woman draped over his arms, an ache of need all the way into her bones, in every pulse of her blood. Warm tears pooled in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks, but she couldn’t form words.
“I’m an angel,” he said. “Kinto. Remember? You cut down the last living soul from under me. You were the lady reaper. I told your demon what you did so you could be released. I bet this isn’t what you thought being released would look like. Tricked into something, I bet. Am I right?” As he spoke, he removed his jacket and laid it over her trembling body. Then he removed the white shirt under it. His chest was golden, and when he lifted her, the warmth made her dizzy. She rested her cheek against his skin, such a deep longing filling her that she thought she might implode.
He would wrap them in the swirling light, and they’d ascend into someplace warm and peaceful…what was it called?
“Take me there.” Her tongue was thick and didn’t cooperate fully, so the words sounded garbled and square-edged where they should be smooth.
He stopped walking and looked down at her, and those liquid eyes filled with such a deep sadness it seemed he’d taken it from her bones and reflected it back. “You’re not allowed in heaven,” he said. “You know that.”
Kinto continued walking, and she curled into his arms, trying to soak through his skin, to be absorbed by it. She wanted to crawl through it, to be him. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She turned her face and bit him.
“Ouch,” he said, laughing. “No biting. Good thing you’re not a demon.”
Up a flight of stairs, and more, and more, until at last, he set her on a couch. She sat and looked around at the room, which looked vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t say why.
“This is where you were staying,” Kinto said. “I searched the city while you were gone. I didn’t go too far, because I wanted to see you if you came back. You used to be…exciting, I guess.” He smiled and shook his head. “I always looked forward to running into you. But I can’t stay much longer. I have to get gather any remaining souls that I can before they’re gone.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m an angel,” he said. “That’s my job.”
“What’s…my job?”
“I don’t know,” he said, that sadness back in his eyes. He reached out and touched her face, then dropped his eyes to her hands, folded in her lap, the lock of hair still clutched between them. He reached for her hand then, unfolded one finger at a time. For a minute, they sat looking at the blood-streaked hair, neither speaking. Then he folded her fingers back over it, tucked her hair behind both ears, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against hers.
His kiss was warm, and a thousand memories rushed through her. Someone throwing her on a stone floor, cold and naked; her lips bitten to shreds by a reaper woman; a reaper man with bloody teeth grinning while he ground her onto a chunk of coal; a pitchfork descending and the laughter coming from a gaping maw of that sharp face with thick lips—Lucifer, that was him; her body ripped through with pain. Her breath hitched and came faster, and Kinto pulled away. She clutched at him, wanting to slip into his mouth and down his throat.
He held her face between his hands like something fragile. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could take you with me.”
“Then stay.”
“I can’t do that, either,” he said. “Unless I was expelled from heaven, and then… No. I can’t. I might go to hell. I’m sorry…what should I call you?”
“I…don’t know.”
“You didn’t have a name. But you should. It will help you remember who you are. Like the hair. And stay here for a while, until…until all the souls are gone. Then the reapers will go, and they can’t take you back to hell.”
“I can come and go as I please.” The words came out like a chant, though she didn’t know what they meant.
“If you can find the way out, right? Or something like that?”
“Don’t leave me here.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll stay for the night. I’ll bring you clothes in the morning. And you can stay here for a while, until the reapers are gone. And then the whole earth is yours. You’ll be the queen of the world.”
She had a flash of memory then—Kinto leaned over a tiny demon, the same sadness and pity on his face that she saw now.
“What name befits the queen of the world?” His smile widened into something familiar and beautiful, and war
mth filled her whole soul. “Himiko?” he asked.
“Will you come back and see me?”
“I’ll try, Himiko,” he said, his smile vanishing. “But once the souls are all gone…You’ll be the last one left. You can’t go to heaven, and Lucifer can’t make you stay in hell. Maybe I can visit. I don’t know the rules for that.” He lay on the couch and patted the space in front of him, and she slid into it, into his arms. Her body fit inside his like something nesting.
“I tried to get you to watch me release a soul to heaven once, but you said no,” he said after a while. “But you watched from the shadows. I knew you were there.”
“Why?”
“I wanted you to see what it was like. What you were denying souls when you cut them down. And condemning them to…this. Whatever happened to you. I’m sorry, Himiko. I couldn’t save you, but I wanted to save others from you. But none of you are evil, are you? You’re just stuck. You have to do what you’re commanded. Because none of you have free will. Only angels have that.”
“And me?”
“And you. But you can’t be an angel.”
“Why?”
“You gave your soul to Lucifer,” he said. “Even though he released you, I don’t think it can go to heaven. It’s very…dark.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know what you did,” he said. “I could find out, if you want to know. But I don’t think you’d want to. I don’t want to know.”
“I don’t know anything,” she said. “I don’t remember things.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” he said. “Start over. You can be someone else.”
“I can be Himiko,” she said, the new word stumbling off her tongue.
The angel tightened his arms around her. “That’s who you are,” he said. “A soul, who used to be a reaper. A woman, and the queen of earth. Don’t forget who you are.” He kissed her forehead and sighed, his body melting around hers like a clay mold. “And don’t forget me.”
“I won’t,” she whispered. “You’re Kinto. I’m Himiko.” At first, the word was sharp, but she mouthed it again and again, until it sounded like music, like all she had ever been.
She knew, as she lay there, that queen of the world was not what she wanted to be. But it seemed too late now to change things. She would be alone in the morning, alone the next night, and every night after. Forever, she would wander the world alone, the last soul on earth, blowing through the city streets, unable to join Kinto and the souls above and unwilling to join those below. But she could, if she wanted. She had free will.
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About the Author
Lena Hillbrand writes slightly twisted tales in many genres, but she’s mostly harmless in real life.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to everyone who made this book possible. My parents and sisters, for encouraging my love of stories. My family, for giving me time to write. Delani and Lior for beta reading and giving me such helpful advice. And of course my readers. I couldn’t be a writer without you!
The Last Soul: A Reaper Novella (Reapers Book 1) Page 4
