Page 20

Story: Samael

Am I dead or alive?

What she’d seen wasn’t possible. Not in any rational world. Sam had come seemingly from out of thin air. Tyrell had shot him at point-blank range. Had shot him…

Her legs were shaking too much to walk, so she crawled toward him. How was he still standing? She needed to get help. She needed to call the police.

“Sam?” Her hand landed on something hard. Some instinct made her pick it up. It was smashed, as though it had hit something hard, but there was no mistaking the bullet slug.

There was no emotion on his face when he looked at her. He held a long-handled scythe in his hand. There was no blood on the blade, no blood on his shirt. Beyond him, Tyrell lay on the ground. There wasn’t a visible wound on his body.

“Is he…” She swallowed heavily. “Is he alive?”

“No.”

Her vision began to dim. Pressing down hard on her hands, she bowed her head and sucked in much-needed air. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. Nightmare or reality, she wasn’t sure. But she was alive, and Sam was here.

He crouched beside her but didn’t touch her. She wanted to crawl into his arms and cry, but he made no move toward her. Pulling herself together, she raised her head. “Thank you for saving me.”

His jaw tightened, and he gave a curt nod.

“Ah, what exactly happened?” It was all so surreal.

“What did you see?” His voice had a hollow quality that had every fine hair on her body standing on end.

She pushed herself upright, grabbing the trunk of a nearby tree for stability. Every survival instinct screamed at her to lie, but she couldn’t, not to Sam. “You have a scythe.” The weapon was as tall as him, the handle a dark wood, the curved metal blade sharp and deadly.

“Yes.”

I’m a fucking reaper.

Sam’s words echoed in her head. “I don’t understand.” What he’d said made no logical sense.

“What did you see?”

“You came out of nowhere. You swung that thing”—she pointed at the scythe—“at him. You didn’t touch him, but he’s dead.” She rubbed her eyes.

Overhead, a large black crow squawked. The clearing grew darker. A cold shiver raced down her spine. It was like something straight out of a horror movie. Sam stepped in front of her in a defensive stance, the base of the scythe on the ground.

The wind whipped up, making the ends of his hair flutter while sending hers into a frenzied dance. She shoved the curls out of her face, her heart in her throat as a swirling circle appeared out of thin air. Her blood ran cold when a massive, cloaked figure stepped out. Like Sam, he had a scythe in one hand, only his was even larger.

“What have you done?” The wind died as quickly as it had whipped up. The world went silent. It was as though time itself stopped.

“I take full responsibility.” Sam stepped forward, went down on one knee, and laid his weapon on the ground in front of the stranger.

“I sent you here on assignment. Your entire purpose was to let Adrianne Sharp’s fate play out. She was to die. You were to escort her to the afterlife. You were to learn empathy and compassion, not to interfere, and certainly not to change the timeline of the world itself.”

Wait. What? None of this made any sense…unless what Sam had said was somehow true. That he really was a reaper. The impossibility of it made her head spin.

The newcomer slowly lowered the hood of his long, black cloak. She steeled herself, expecting to see a skeletal face. That’s how Death was depicted in most literature. And if anyone had ever fit the bill, it was this man. Instead of bleached white bone, a handsome face was revealed. One with sharp features and eyes that pierced the gloom to view into her soul.

There wasn’t enough saliva in her mouth for her to swallow. Even her sweat had evaporated. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe.

“All you’ve done is to postpone the inevitable. Human lives are short. She’ll have a few decades at most. Your rash action has caused a major ripple in the present and far into the future. It was not Tyrell Smith’s time to die. It was hers.” He pointed one long, accusing finger in her direction.

He spoke of her death with cold detachment, as if she were no more to him than an ant he could step on. This was a man who could kill her without a second thought, more dangerous than any stalker. However implausible, she was deathly afraid this was real, that Sam really was a reaper and the stranger was Death himself.

“I told you what would happen if you failed this assignment.”

Sam raised his head. “Loss of my powers and exile to Shadowland for all eternity.”

Eternity? She couldn’t wrap her head around that.

“Is she worth your life, my son?”

Son? Holy shit, did he mean that literally or was it how he referred to all reapers? Surely he wouldn’t condemn his actual son to eternal prison.

“Yes.” He offered no other defense. If she understood correctly, Sam had willingly chosen endless punishment to save her.

Maybe this was nothing more than a nightmare. Maybe she was home asleep in bed. Perhaps she’d died and was in Hell. Either way, she couldn’t stand there and do nothing while Sam was condemned to some eternal prison. Maybe it was foolish on her part to intervene. No, scratch that. It was downright idiotic, but she had to try.

A twig snapped under her foot when she took a step forward. Two sets of black eyes swung toward her. Sam pushed upright. Seeing them side by side, the resemblance was apparent.

I have to save him.

“He’s right.” She waved a hand in the direction of Death—or the Grim Reaper or however he referred to himself—and focused solely on Sam. “I’ve got another four or five decades, six if I’m lucky. That’s nothing when compared to eternity. As much as I want to live, I won’t buy my life at the cost of yours.”

Loving Sam, she finally understood she should have come back to Redemption rather than staying away to protect her granny. When you truly loved someone, you stood beside them, no matter how hard the situation. They could have shared the burden and strengthened each other. That’s what you did when you loved. If nothing else, they would have had that time together that had been lost.

She’d made mistakes with her granny. She refused to make the same ones again. There’d be no peace, no happiness, if she bought her future at Sam’s expense. It didn’t matter that he’d lied to her, that all she was to him was an assignment.

“Adrianne.” The harsh expression on his face softened. “It’s done. I made my choice.”

“Why?” It made no sense. “You were sent here to reap my soul, right? It’s what you do.” She’d witnessed it with her own eyes when he’d taken down Tyrell without blinking an eye.

Emotions stirred in his midnight eyes. “Being with you, I knew peace for the first time in my endless existence. Always, there’s been something missing, an empty void that no amount of adventure, money, or power could fill. That’s priceless. That’s worth everything. That’s a gift that can never be repaid.”

The raw truth of his words touched her heart. A tear slid down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb. His touch grounded her, gave her the courage to do what was right. She turned to the silent watcher. “Um, what should I call you?”

“I have been called many names—the Pale Horseman, Thanatos, Azrael, the Grim Reaper, Death. The name matters not. I am the same. I was here before the beginning and will be here after the end.”

There was no bragging or posturing. He was stating a simple fact. It wasn’t what he did or said, it was who he was—timeless and powerful beyond imagination.

Facing him was terrifying. “Sir.” She figured that was the safest form of address. “Can you turn back time?” Her voice quavered but she pressed forward. “If Sam doesn’t kill Tyrell or take his soul or whatever he did, there wouldn’t be a need to punish him, would there?”

Survival demanded she save herself. God, she wanted to live. There were so many wasted, lost years. For the first time in her life, she knew what she wanted, and it was too late. Love demanded she rescue Sam. If it was truly her fate to die—and who would know better than Death himself—it wasn’t right for her to evade it. She’d read enough books, seen enough movies, to understand even a single death could change the course of history.

He’d called it a ripple in the present and far into the future.

“No.” Sam caught her by the shoulders and spun her around. “I won’t let you do it.”

She took his face in her hands. She’d been right to call him a man of mystery, but even she’d had no idea how much he’d been hiding. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Why would you make such an offer?” He lowered his forehead to hers. “Your life is fleeting. I’ve lived longer than you could fathom.”

In the end, it was surprisingly easy to say aloud. “I love you. It’s not logical. It’s not smart. It’s certainly the most reckless thing I’ve ever done. Every ounce of common sense warned me not to stop for you on the road that day, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.” Even now, the impulsive act surprised her.

“You baffle and intrigue me, annoy and delight me.” That drew a quick chuckle. “But the heart wants what it wants.” She brushed her lips over his. “Our time together was short and intense—maybe it never should have happened, but it did. Even knowing what I do, I can’t bring myself to have regrets. What you did for me, what you were willing to sacrifice—” She shook her head and pressed her lips together. Now was not the time to break down and bawl like a baby. He’d never spoken of love, but his actions screamed it.

Wrenching away from him before he could try to change her mind, she nodded at the silent watcher. “Can you do it? Can you undo this?”

“I destroyed Smith’s soul,” Sam stated with finality. “There’s no coming back from that.”

The Grim Reaper glanced at the large crow watching the proceedings. “That’s not quite true. I was forewarned and captured his spirit before you could obliterate it.” He raised his hand and began to circle it in a counterclockwise motion. It was like rewinding a movie. Her body moved without conscious thought and at a dizzying speed until she was flat on her back with Tyrell’s hands wrapped around her throat. For a brief second, they were frozen in time. Then the clock began to move forward.

The brutal and sudden change was disorienting. She was choking, unable to breathe. His fingers tightened, his blue eyes filled with gleeful malice as he strangled her. Digging her feet into the ground, she bucked upward to unseat him, but he was too heavy, too damn strong. She drove her hands up between his arms and shoved outward, managing to break his grip. Sucking air into her starving lungs, she gouged at his eyes.

He howled when she struck one of them. His fist clipped her jaw, snapping her head to one side. Two dark figures watched from the shadows. The larger one had his arms wrapped around the other, holding him captive.

“No!” Sam’s roar of fury echoed in her ears.

In a replay of before, Tyrell was yanked away from her by some unseen force and sent flying backward. Not as far as last time, but enough to allow her to move. Maybe she’d hallucinated what had happened, what she was seeing now. Whatever the truth, her destiny was in her hands.

Tyrell got back to his feet, holding one arm tight by his side. He reached for his gun with the other. “I’m going to kill you.”

Caw! Startled, she looked toward the crow pecking at a hefty rock lying in the dirt. It would fit perfectly in her hand. Diving, she grabbed it, turned, and threw it all in one motion. Tyrell fired his weapon.

Something slammed into her and sent her tumbling back. Beyond her, Tyrell was also down, blood streaming from his head. She’d hit him! But he’d hit her, too.

Pain radiated through her shoulder and arm. When she grabbed it, she almost blacked out. Her fingers came away wet. When she tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness forced her to stop.

She needed help. Digging into her pocket for her phone, she came up empty. It must have fallen out somewhere along the way. Think! All cops had a radio or phone. Ignoring the blood running down her arm, she dragged herself over to Tyrell. Having seen too many suspense movies where the heroine wasn’t smart, the first thing she did was remove his handcuffs from his belt. Using her feet, she shoved him unto his stomach and shackled his hands behind him. Then she found several plastic zip ties and used them on his ankles.

Sweat poured down her face. She blinked as the edges of the world began to close in until all that was left was a dark tunnel.

Is this it? Am I dying?

Screw that. She fumbled around, slapping her hands on his body until she struck gold in his back pocket. A cell phone. Only it was locked, and she didn’t know the password. Tears of frustration rolled down her face. It was getting harder to focus, the adrenaline dump leaving her shaky.

She toppled forward and caught Tyrell’s belt to keep from landing on him. Her hand hit something hard—a radio. She pulled it out, and it took her several long, frustrating moments to figure out how to turn it on.

“Hello?” There was nothing but static. She pressed another button and tried again. “Hello?”

“This is Officer Jones with the Redemption Police Department. Who is this?”

Relief made her dizzy. Or maybe it was blood loss. A hysterical laugh escaped her.

“This is Officer Jones,” he repeated. “Please identify yourself.”

Concentrating with all her might, she pressed down on the button. “Cal. Cal, it’s Adrianne. It’s Tyrell. Tyrell Smith is my stalker.” There was no answer. Then she realized she was still pressing down on the button and released it.

“—on the way. Where are you? Adrianne?”

Pressing down once again. “In the woods. Somewhere behind the house.” Her thumb slipped off the button.

“Hang on. We’re almost there. Are you hurt?”

With her last bit of strength, she pried the gun from Tyrell’s hand and gripped it in her own. Sirens sounded in the distance. As her eyelids fluttered closed, she prayed they’d get here in time.

“Sam.” She whispered his name as she fell into unconsciousness.

“You can’t be here when the authorities arrive. This has to unfold as it will.”

Sam had stopped fighting to escape his father’s grasp. He was no match for him. No one was. “Why did you do it? I made my choice.” Being unable to go to Adrianne was killing him.

“Will you negate her sacrifice?”

“It wasn’t her place to offer her life for mine.” He jerked his arms and was finally set free but made no move toward her. If he did, he’d find himself bound in an unbreakable hold again.

“No, it was her destiny to die.”

His fury cooled as reality settled in. “She’s not dead. She’s not dead,” he slowly repeated. Her heartbeat was rapid and the blood loss significant, but he had no sense of impending death.

“No.” His father leaned against his scythe and studied Adrianne as if she was an oracle containing all the mysteries of life.

“Why isn’t she dead?” It didn’t make any sense. His father had come here to stop him from interfering, to allow fate to run its course.

Fathomless black eyes, the same ones he saw when he looked in the mirror, stared at him. “Because you’re my son. Because no matter what you believe, I love you. She will live, but nothing comes without a cost.”

An ominous shiver snaked down his spine. To his knowledge, the Grim Reaper had never used his vast power to change fate. What was the life of one human when stacked against all others? Yet he’d done just that. The repercussions would be far-reaching. The entire timeline would have to recalibrate, changing millions of lives and history itself.

The cost for such an action was incalculable.

Before he could process what that might mean, flashlight beams jumped through the woods as officers fanned out in every direction. Sam recognized Lamont Wilkins and several other officers.

“Over here,” Officer Wilkins shouted as he went to his knees beside Adrianne and checked the pulse at her throat. “She’s alive, but she’s been shot. How far out is the ambulance?” Wilkins dropped the pack he had over his shoulder and dug out a first aid kit. Once he’d slapped on a pair of thin latex gloves, he removed the gun from her hand and carefully handed it another officer to secure. Then he went to work stanching her bleeding.

Another officer checked on Smith. “He’s got a head wound. Possible break in his arm. Ambulance is about five or ten minutes behind us.”

Chief Johnson jogged onto the scene. His gaze flickered in their direction and away. They were unseen, but more sensitive humans often sensed the presence of reapers. And these weren’t just any reapers on-site. His father had a powerful aura.

It was gut-wrenching to stand only feet away and watch others tend to Adrianne. It was the worst torture imaginable. His restraint began to fracture. Nearby trees creaked, bending ominously under the strain of his anguish. Several of the officers glanced around, going on alert. A heavy hand dropped on his shoulder, not to restrain this time but to offer comfort. He didn’t shrug it off.

The crime scene was photographed, meticulously searched, and taped off by the others while Officer Wilkins watched over Adrianne and kept an eye on the still unconscious Smith. It seemed an eternity before the rescue team arrived and carried both her and Smith away on stretchers.

Sam followed in their wake, silently watching as they loaded her aboard a waiting ambulance and took her away…from him. She was alive, but she was lost to him. There were consequences for actions.

Nothing comes without a cost.

His father’s words echoed inside him. It was time for him to pay.

It’s worth it.

Confinement in Shadowland and the loss of his powers for eternity was a small price for his soul. For if he’d stood there and done nothing, allowed Adrianne to die when he could have stopped it, what was left of his soul, what made him who he was, would have shriveled and died, leaving only an empty husk behind.

Chester slunk by the officers and technicians called in from a nearby town to help process the evidence at the house and in the woods. The cat padded over to them—the humans might be unable to see him, but Chester had no such problem—leaned against Sam’s leg and began to purr, offering comfort. He bent down and rubbed the top of his furry head.

The sun was up before the authorities were finished and all but one vehicle left. An officer Sam didn’t recognize remained behind to keep an eye on things. After one final walk around the house, he sat in his patrol car and put his head back to rest on the seat and yawned, the growing heat and long night catching up to him.

“It’s time to leave.”

Sam was surprised he’d been allowed to stay this long. Every fiber of his being cried out for Adrianne, but there was no way he’d be allowed to see her. Nor would he ask. He’d already been given more than he’d thought possible. The next best thing, the only thing he could do was to oversee the proceedings here. Invisible to the human eye, it had been easy enough to move among the officers and technicians doing their jobs.

Ignoring the order, he went into the house with Chester trotting along beside him. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he took in the damage. It wasn’t much, in the scheme of things, but these were all items Adrianne treasured.

“I failed the assignment.” Not only had he tried to destroy a soul—would have if his father hadn’t stopped him—but he’d defied a direct order. Any other reaper would have been wiped from existence for such insubordination. It was an extremely rare occurrence, but when it occurred, disobedience was dealt with swiftly and decisively.

“Did you?” Having followed him inside, his father picked a picture up off the floor, studied it, and set the cracked frame back among the shards of glass.

It would be smarter to keep his mouth shut, but he was stretched to the edge of his endurance. “What will you do?”

“No one else is aware of the situation.” He continued to wander, studying the books tucked into the shelves.

“You said it was Adrianne’s fate to die.” An icy hand squeezed his heart. “Will you take her?” It was easy enough for him to do. “Or have you already done it?”

“I made an error.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. Every reality of his world splintered in front of him. “Death doesn’t make mistakes.” That was carved in stone, immutable.

“No, he doesn’t. But a father did.”

“I don’t understand.” He stared at his father as if he’d never seen him before, and maybe he hadn’t. He was guilty of viewing him through the lens of head reaper. He’d long ago stopped thinking of him as a parent.

“I made mistakes with my sons. I distanced myself, believing it was the only way I could send you on assignments and allow you to be who you were meant to be. In the process, I lost you. Every millennium that passed, you grew colder, more dissatisfied. I thought you’d lost empathy and focus, but that wasn’t the case, was it?”

The last thing he’d expected was a heart-to-heart, but if his father could be honest enough to admit his mistakes, so could Sam. “Turning off my emotions was the only way to save myself.”

A shadow began to swirl, opening a portal. “Come.”

It was useless to fight the inevitable, nor would he with Adrianne’s life hanging in the balance. Whatever his mistakes, his father was the Grim Reaper, and balance had to be kept. Mess with one life and it could cause a cascading effect that might be catastrophic. “I’ll go with you, but for eons of faithful service, I’m asking for one thing.”

“You’re in no position to ask for anything.”

“Not to my boss, no, but I’m asking my father. If…when you take Adrianne, take my life and send me with her. If I can’t be here with her, I’ll find her in the afterlife.”

His father shook his head. “We’re guides, Samael. It’s not our place to mingle with human souls.”

He’d expected no other answer, but it still cut deep. “I’ll find a way.” Even confined to Shadowland, he’d find a way to reach out to one of his brothers. If that proved impossible, he’d wait until one of them sought him out, and they would eventually. Whatever it took, however long it took, he’d find his way back to her.

Love. He’d never thought such a thing was possible for him. Reapers didn’t form lasting romantic attachments. They took their pleasures when they chose, as he had, but human lives were fleeting to them. He’d thought the same once.

I love you. Adrianne had not only said the words but given her life for him. That she was currently alive didn’t signify. He’d been ready to lay down his life, but not brave enough to say the words.

“Come.” His father stood by the portal.

Taking one final look at the place where he’d found peace and love and everything that had been missing, he squared his shoulders and stepped forward…into a hospital room. He rushed toward the bed where Adrianne lay and gripped the railing of her bed. A pristine white bandage covered her upper arm. Bruises marred her throat. An IV line was taped to her hand.

“How is she, Doc?” Chief Johnson stood just inside the closed door, speaking with the doctor.

“The bullet hit the outside of her arm, deeper than a graze, but the bullet didn’t lodge inside. We’ve cleaned and stitched the area. There was no significant muscle damage. We’re giving her antibiotics to fight off any infection and medication to handle pain. No permanent damage to her throat. All in all, she’s a lucky lady. We’ll keep her a day or two, but barring any complications, she’ll be ready to go home by then. She’ll need to check in with her regular doctor to get the stitches removed. If she doesn’t overdo and follows through with physical therapy, she should make a full recovery.”

“Thanks, Doc.” The chief glanced at the bed. “When she wakes, tell her I’ll be back to check on her later.” The two men left.

A machine by the bed gave a beep before settling. Out in the hallway, staff and patients passed by, unaware that Death was lurking nearby. Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. “Thank you for bringing me here.” It was an unexpected kindness.

His father inclined his head.

Not wasting the gift he’d been given, he took Adrianne’s hand in his. It was small in comparison, still and cold. Her hair was dull and lifeless, her skin pasty and marred by scratches and bruises. She’d never been more beautiful. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, careful not to jostle her.

“I’ll find you. I promise. However long it takes, my soul will find yours.” Taking a deep breath, he spoke the words that lived in his heart and would for eternity, words she’d never hear. “I love you.”

Her eyes flew open. In the next breath, Sam found himself on the side of a road, back in jeans and a T-shirt, with his bag over his shoulder, and his father nowhere in sight.

What will you sacrifice to save her? The question echoed in his head—a choice and a warning. Will you let her go for all eternity to spare her life?

Falling to his hands and knees, he threw back his head and roared. This was his punishment, the terrible price of his failure. To save the woman he loved, he had to give her up. Not only for now but all time. The safety of her immortal soul rested solely in his hands. The tiny ember of hope he’d kept alive died. Souls could be reborn, but he could never seek hers out. That was the cost for saving her. Tears burned in the back of his eyes. His chest ached as though his heart had been ripped out.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself back to his feet. If this was what it took to save her, then so be it. She’d given her life for him; he could do no less.

He reached for icy control, that familiar companion that had muted his emotions for eons, but could no longer reach it. If he wasn’t permitted to block the pain, he’d damn well use it.

Head down, he began to walk. It didn’t matter where he went or how long it took him to get there. The life he’d meticulously built was lost to him. It didn’t matter. It no longer interested him. The property, the deals, the money…nothing could fill the gaping hole in his heart.

The muscles in his legs protested each step that took him farther from her. Gritting his teeth, he pushed on. Even with his preternatural strength, it was like being thigh-deep in quicksand or cement. He fought on, gaining one excruciating inch at a time. Sweat beaded his brow and ran down his back. The blistering heat of the sun beat down on him.

“Keep going.” Any hesitation on his part might be viewed as noncompliance with the terms. That would mean Adrianne’s death. Stopping was not an option.

Thirst burned his throat. His stomach growled as the sun set and the moon rose. Leg muscles knotted. Breathing heavily through the pain, he continued, drawing on memories of Adrianne for strength. There were so many. His favorite was of her sprawled across the bed, her skin dewy with sweat, her eyes glazed from passion, her lips parted. The scent of her skin filled his nostrils, the rapid beat of her heart pounded in his ears, and his skin tingled at her phantom touch.

The torture of his body was overruled by the love in his heart, powering him, keeping him moving when it would be easier to give up. Vehicles whizzed past, but he remained hidden from view—a wraith, a shadow. Time lost all meaning.

When he passed a familiar-looking outcropping of rock, he frowned. He’d swear he’d passed it sometime yesterday. Either he was losing his mind, or it was part of the punishment. Was he doomed to forever wander the area, close to Adrianne, yet apart?

If it kept her alive and protected her soul, it was worth it.

Malaki swooped down in front of him and perched on top of a sign, one that hadn’t been there moments before. “Welcome to Redemption.” The bird settled his wings and stared with small, dark eyes. There was a folded piece of paper clutched in his beak.

Sam reached out his hand, and the note landed on it. He wondered what fresh torture was in store. He’d toss it aside, but the crow would only retrieve it and follow him until he read the damn thing.

Taking a fortifying breath, he unfolded the parchment. Hands shaking, he stared at the flowing black script. His heart kicked up a beat. He glanced at the messenger, but the crow nodded and took flight now that his job was done. Carefully, Sam tucked the note in his pocket. Then he began to run.