Death Wish (Reaper Reborn Book 1)

by Harper A. Brooks

  He took my hand to help me up, but the moment I tensed my muscles in my legs to push myself upright, exhaustion swept me up in a merciless embrace. This time, I couldn’t fight the darkness when it called my name and dragged me under.

  As the lull of sleep entwined me like a serpent, images floated to the surface of my mind.

  I was a boy no older than six, looking at my face in the reflection of a river’s shallow edge. My skin was the darkest shade of brown and perfectly smooth in my youth. Although I knew from some distant memory I had been told to stay away from the waters that had been flooded from a recent heavy rain, the desire to jump in and ride the current was overwhelming. Especially since I was being teased a lot from the other village children for not knowing how to swim. At least, that was what they claimed. I thought I could swim just fine. And I was determined to show them they were wrong.

  But the moment I stepped my muddy bare feet into the icy water, the world around me shifted. The forest vegetation and river were lost to a blur of colors.

  When the picture before me reformed, a crowd of angry faces stared back at me. Men, women, and even children sneered my way. Some cursed, calling me a harlot and witch in another language. Something hard struck the side of my face. I cried out as sharpness sliced across my cheek.

  A rock? Someone had thrown a rock at me?

  When I tried to tug at my wrists, I found them bound behind my back and tethered to a pole. Even more horrifying, I was sitting on top of a pile of wood and straw.

  These people were going to kill me. And watch my death for entertainment.

  As a scream crawled up my throat, the faces before me blended together, and the scene changed again.

  This time, I was running. My bare feet flew over a forest floor, my breathing coming out in short, frantic bursts in the frigid night air. I kept glancing over my shoulder. A giant lumbering man followed me, and it seemed no matter how fast I ran, he was closing the distance. There was something in his hand, too. Something long and solid. A branch? A bat? Who knew what he’d grabbed this time in his drunken rage.

  Like with the other visions, bits and pieces of information came floating back from the recesses of my memory. This man wasn’t a stranger. He was my stepfather, and like he did when he drank too much, he wanted do things to me that weren’t allowed. But now that I was older and getting stronger, I fought him. Mostly, I ran or hid. But that made him mad, and his anger had turned physical. Brutal. Deadly.

  The absolute fear churning inside told me that this night wasn’t like those other nights. This time, if he caught me, he’d kill me. If I could just get to our neighbor’s house down the hill, I could ask for help. I could be safe.

  In my panicked thinking, I misjudged my next step and tumbled down, down, down the steep angle of the hill. Everything spun. Sticks and rocks bit into my skin all over. It felt like I was falling for eternity, but then I suddenly stopped.

  Everything hurt. My fingertips on my right hand were numb. The pain radiating from my shoulder down was excruciating—dislocated, I assumed, but I knew despite all my pain, nothing would compare to what my stepfather would do if he caught up to me.

  I looked up at the glowing lights and smoking chimney of my neighbor’s house like a beacon from God. So close. Salvation was just a few feet away.

  I just had to get up and knock on the door.

  The crunch of boots by my head tensed every muscle in my body. The pinching, sour scent of liquor confirmed all my fears. And his voice sent chills all over my skin.

  “I tol’ you not to run,” he slurred, but I could make out the threat to his words just the same. It was my fault. Everything he did was my fault.

  A scream bubbled up my throat, but before any sound escaped, the scene went black again.

  Then, like rapid fire, faces passed in front of my eyes. Women, men, children of all shapes, skin tones, sizes, and ages flashed across my mind in quick succession, like someone was flipping through one of those old flip books or clicking through a vacation photo reel too fast to really see the pictures. Who were all these people? And why did they feel familiar to me?

  Why was I seeing them at all? That was the biggest question.

  Was this like the old saying? My life flashing before my eyes? But I was seeing other people’s lives instead. Not one or two. Dozens—no hundreds, all flying by in rapid succession.

  I didn’t understand. What were they trying to show me?

  “Jade?”

  My name floated to my ears from a distant place. A voice I knew, too. It was a kind, gentle voice, but one ebbed with concern. Like a mother coaxing a child to their side. Or a friend.

  Was this another vision?

  “Jade, please wake up.”

  No. Not a vision. This was real.

  Recognition tingled at the nape of my neck. Friend. It was a friend talking to me now.

  Kay?

  “Is she dead?” Another voice chimed in—a male’s, also familiar. A bit shaky with nerves but sweet nonetheless. His name snapped forward. It was Laurence. “Can reapers…die?”

  “I-I don’t know,” Kay whispered.

  The memory of the night with Xaver and all his Halflings crashed into me like a semitruck, bringing back all the aches and pains to my limbs and head. Nausea rolled through my stomach, and every inch of me was weak with exhaustion. Something as simple as opening my eyes was a struggle.

  “Jade, wake up. This isn’t funny.” This voice brought with it a wave of emotions. Conflicting ones. Desire was one that surprised me. There was also relief. Hurt. But anger, mostly.

  Suddenly, a hard pressure seized both my upper arms. The feeling of fingers digging into my flesh grew clearer, more painful, as the man shook me hard.

  “Get up, Jade. Dammit. Get up!”

  Masters. Cole Masters.

  As his name shot across my mind, my eyelids snapped open.

  Blue eyes rimmed in red stared back at me, and instantly every worry line around his lips and brow softened. The one side of his luscious mouth curled up for a model-worthy smile that could have made any normal woman swoon on the spot.

  Lucky for me, I wasn’t a normal woman by any means. And I definitely wasn’t a fool. Cole had betrayed me. I remembered that part, too.

  I sat up, perhaps a little too quickly because my head spun. Holding my forehead, I waited until the earth stopped swaying.

  “Whoa there. Give it some time,” Cole said, as if nothing had happened between us—as if he hadn’t been using me for a paycheck all this time. But I guess he didn’t know I had discovered his little plan, did he? To him, I was still blissfully ignorant. Trusting.

  Boy, was he going to be sorry.

  “You just blasted a full-blooded demon to bits and sent his Halflings back to Hell. It’s expected for you to be a little lightheaded.”

  Damn, he was good at this faking-concern thing. Move over, Tom Cruise. Cole was gunning for an Oscar.

  I shook off the grips he still had on my arms. He moved back to give me space, but suddenly, Kay was there, touching my face all over.

  “Good, you’re still h-here with us. Not a spirit.” She pulled me into a fierce hug. “I’m still iffy on all the rules when it comes to this reaper business, but I felt like I lost you. Really lost you. I couldn’t sense your soul while you were out of it and…”

  For a minute, it felt like I had lost myself, too.

  When Kay pulled back, she sniffed, her eyes misting over.

  “Hey, I’m okay,” I told her. “I’m here.”

  She smiled. “Hormones, I guess.”

  I took my time to stand, ignoring the pain clinging to my body. Cole and Kay stood, too.

  “So,” I began, rubbing the side of my face, “what did I miss? Where’s Sean and Wyatt?”

  “Good question,” Laurence said. “We just got out of the trailer after we heard the explosion and saw the coast was clear. We haven’t seen them.”

  I glanced at Cole, who shook his head.

&
nbsp; Angel’s loud barking shook the silence of the night.

  Laurence sighed heavily. “Dang dog. We tried keeping her inside when we left, but she snuck out.”

  More barking in the distance, closer to the woods where the light of the trailer didn’t quite reach.

  I headed that way.

  “Where are you going?” Laurence called out behind me.

  “I bet you wherever she’s barking is where Sean and Wyatt are, too.”

  “She’s got a point.” Cole said, and then a scurry of footsteps followed in my wake.

  At the edge of the woods, three shapes came into view. As expected, there was Angel, whose bark turned into a low whine the moment she saw me, and two shadowed figures huddled together at the base of a tree.

  It wasn’t until I was a few steps away that I noticed the blood trailing onto the ground and Sean had something draped across his lap. Soft sobs came from Sean as he stared down at the frail-looking man cradled in his arms. His father. Wyatt. Lying deathly still but with eyes open.

  Blood dribbled down his chin, but his lips moved, his words coming out too gurgled and soft for me to hear. Whatever he was saying, Sean could hear him, though, and he leaned in closer as the tears slid down his face.

  My heart clenched. I knew what I was witnessing here. I was all too familiar with it. Wyatt was dying. From the looks of it, he might have pierced a lung or two and he was slowly drowning in his own blood.

  Sean seemed to know it, too. Because even though Wyatt tried to smile up at him as he whispered to his son, the tears kept flowing.

  Oh, how I regretted following Angel’s barks. I didn’t want to see this. Even though I’d only known the two for a little while, I still cared for them. Watching Sean hold his father like he was frailer than a newborn and shaking with grief was heart-wrenching.

  My feet started pedaling backwards, but then Kay’s gasp reminded me they had followed me here. Sean’s head snapped up, and when he saw us, desperation clung to his watery gaze.

  “Cole. Jade,” he choked out. “Please. Do something. Anything. Help him. Please.”

  Cole hurried to Wyatt’s side and examined him, looking for a way to save his life, but I already knew the truth. He wasn’t going to survive this. His body was already shimmering, his soul readying to leave the body.

  When Cole realized he couldn’t help, he glanced over his shoulder at me. “Jade,” he whispered. “What can we do? There has to be something.”

  My voice lodged in my throat, and tears prickled the backs of my eyes.

  What could I do?

  Nothing. There was no way to cheat death. Unfortunately, I had learned this many times during my year as a reaper. If I didn’t deliver the death touch, the soul would leave the body on its own, like it had with Marla. Without a reaper to direct it, the spirit could be lost, forced to wander a world it was no longer a part of forever.

  And that also meant Wyatt would have to keep suffering until he passed. Drowning was a terrible way to die. I couldn’t let that happen to him. But to kill a friend? To kill a father in front of his own son? How could I do that?

  “Jade, please…” Sean’s desperate tone stabbed at my chest. “Don’t let my father die. He’s all I have left…”

  I glanced down at Wyatt. His body shimmered again, warning me he didn’t have much time.

  “Sean, I—”

  Wyatt’s lips moved again, but this time no sound emerged. Blood leaked from the side of his lips, and he coughed, splattering more of it all over Sean’s shirt.

  I took a deep breath. As much as I hated to do this to Sean, I had no other choice. To secure Wyatt’s afterlife and make his passing easier, I’d have to touch him. Even if it killed me to do it.

  “All I can do is help him cross over,” I said. “I can assure his soul is put where it needs to be.”

  Sean shook his head frantically. “No, no, no. There has to be another way. A spell. An incantation. Something. Pop, you know! You have to know. Tell me what to do. You can’t leave me. You’re all I have left.”

  The ghostly glow pulsed around Wyatt’s body. The soul was readying to break free.

  “He doesn’t have much time, Sean…” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  Sean glanced at Cole, who only nodded solemnly.

  “It’s what Wyatt would want,” Cole whispered.

  Then, through his sobs, Sean agreed.

  I knelt beside them, and with my eyes closed, I lifted my hand to Wyatt’s neck. I said a small apology to him for allowing this to happen before pressing my palm against his bare skin.

  Immediately, Wyatt’s spirit rose out of his earthly body, looking like a more polished version of himself. Brushed and newly braided hair, a clean plaid shirt, jeans, a shiny oversized belt buckle, and a big leather cowboy hat to top it all off. He stood beside his son, who didn’t see him, and smiled my way.

  “I know it was hard for you to do that,” Wyatt said. “But thank you. It was getting a bit too tight in there.”

  Cole didn’t notice Wyatt standing in front of him, either. He and Sean only stared at Wyatt’s chest, looking to see if another breath would lift it again. Behind me, Kay gasped, obviously seeing Wyatt’s spirit form.

  “Ah, the little lady can see me, too, huh?” Wyatt said, and tipped his hat her way.

  “She’s a Medium,” I replied. “I think I told you that before.”

  “You probably did.” He tapped the side of his head. “Old man memory.”

  Sean and Cole stared at me.

  “Are you talking to him now?” Sean asked, seeming amazed.

  I nodded.

  When Wyatt reached for Sean’s shoulder, his hand passed right through, and he sighed, turning to me. “I was never afraid to die, you know. I just thought it would be the cigarettes that did it.”

  Despite the sadness of the situation, his wittiness still rang true.

  “What is he saying?” Sean asked. “Can you tell me?”

  “He says he thought it would be the cigarettes that killed him,” I repeated.

  Cole sputtered a laugh. “That’s Wyatt all right.”

  A flicker of a smile touched Sean’s lips. “Is he okay?”

  “Better than okay,” I said.

  “Not a single ache in my bones!” Wyatt twisted and stretched his arms like an athlete might do before a run to prove his point. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve felt like this.”

  “What is he saying?” Sean pressed.

  I looked at Kay. How did she deal with this back and forth? It was annoying.

  “Make sure you bury me with my hat on,” Wyatt said. “I need my hat. It’s part of me.”

  I repeated that part for Sean. His smile widened.

  “You got it, Pop,” Sean said to the area next to him where Wyatt stood.

  Reaching for the chalk in my back pocket, I waved Wyatt away from the others, deeper into the woods.

  “What’s going on?” Sean asked. “Where are you going?”

  “I have to help your father cross over.”

  “Already?”

  “Tell him it’s time to be strong. It’s time for me to find his mother and be with her again,” Wyatt said firmly, but I caught a glimpse of a tear in his eye.

  I did.

  Sean sniffed and nodded.

  “Oh, and take care of Angel, and she’ll take care of him, too.”

  I passed the message along. Sean patted the dog’s head. She continued to whine nervously at his side.

  “I love you, kid. I’ll see you soon—but not too soon, you hear me?”

  As if Sean had heard him, he said, “I love you, Pop,” to the emptiness beside him.

  “It’s time to go…” I whispered, and together, Wyatt and I walked into the privacy of the woods. I walked until I found a tree with a wide enough trunk and drew the symbols for the spirit door. When the lines glowed orange, signaling the opening of the door, Wyatt turned to me.

  “I know what you’re thinking, and don’t you dare,�
� he said.

  That took me off guard. “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t feel guilty for this. Me dying wasn’t your fault in any way.”

  I blinked. Was I really that predictable?

  “I can read it on your face,” Wyatt explained. “I know that look, and there’s no reason for you to feel that way. It was my time.”

  “After you’re processed, I’ll come look for you. Make sure that whatever afterlife they give you, you’re comfortable.”

  He waved that away. “Eh, I’m sure I’ll be fine. But I’ll never turn down a visit.”

  “I’ll bring beer. The expensive kind. Arrogant Bastard is what it’s called, right?”

  He winked. “You got it. Just like me.”

  Wyatt stepped closer to the shimmering door but paused. “One more thing,” he said. “The box. The one my wife found with your tattoo symbol on it? You can have it. Maybe it can help you find out who you are in some way. Maybe Sean can help you, too. The kid’s smart. And he knows all that technology stuff.”

  “Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say. Even though I knew quite well that his soul’s “life” didn’t end here, I couldn’t help but feel like I was losing him somehow. My chest ached terribly.

  “I know everything about supernaturals. I made it my life to know. Yet I’ve never met anyone like you before.” Wyatt offered me a warm, reassuring smile. “Whoever or whatever you are, Jade, you’re something special. Something this whole damned world and all its damned people may need.”

  I was about to protest such an outrageous statement, but like a parent, he tsked the excuse away.

  “Take my word for it,” he insisted and tapped the side of his nose. “I am an expert in this area, after all.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle at the crazy old man. “Goodbye for now, Wyatt. Thank you for all your help.”

  “See you soon,” he said, and with a tip of his hat, he stepped through the spirit door and disappeared into the afterlife.

  I stood there for a while, staring at the radiant orange glow of the spirit door against the inky darkness of the night. I had done the right thing, hadn’t I? There was no way I could have saved Wyatt’s life. Especially when his soul was pulling away before we had found them near the woods. But even with all the facts, I couldn’t help but feel I should have done more.