Page 192 of Should the Sky Fall

“No. As I said, time doesn’t exist…there. There are no dates, no marks in a calendar. You are assigned souls and you follow them until it’s time.”

“How do you know it’s time?”

Cal ponders it for a moment. “You feel it. It’s instinctual.”

Not very specific, but Dawson can’t blame him. Their worlds have different rules. He’s grateful Cal is talking to him about it at all.

“You said time doesn’t exist, but you also said you followed C—uh, you followedhimfor weeks.”

“By human standards, that was probably accurate,” Cal says, his eyes growing sad. “You can say his name, you know.”

“Doesn’t it bother you, though?” It’s strange to refer to both of them with the same name. Maybe Dawson should come up with nicknames.

“It probably should, but…” Cal shrugs. “Not really. It feels natural. It feels right.”

Huh. “What’s your name? Non-human one.”

Cal averts his gaze, like he’s ashamed. “I didn’t have a name. Not that I remember.”

“Oh.” That’s…sad. But maybe you don’t need a name when you’re going around the world and, well, reaping souls. “Do you know where the souls go?”

“In Caledon’s case? Hopefully to hell.” The last part comes out as a growl.

Wow. Dawson has had many hateful thoughts about Cal—Caledon—throughout the years, but even those fade in comparison to the pure loathing in Cal’s voice.

“Did it hurt? When you took him?”

“I made it hurt,” Cal says, his eyes hard and cold. It gives Dawson chills because it feels like he’s getting a peek behind the curtain, a peek at the real Cal. “Usually it’s quick, a snap of the fingers. But I took my time.” He strokes Dawson’s hair, regret twisting his features. “I’m sorry I couldn’t step in sooner. I wish things hadn’t happened the way they did.”

Blinking back tears, Dawson says, “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” He doesn’t want to think of the past anymore. It serves no purpose, other than holding them back.

“What happens to you when you die? Will you go back to being a reaper?” Why does the idea bother him so much? It’s not like he’ll care about anything once it’s his time too.

“No. My place is with you, Dawson. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“That’s low-key stalkerish, but I like the sound of it,” Dawson jokes, trying to deflect from how much Cal’s words are affecting him. Cal would sweet-talk him into an early grave if given the chance. “Why me? You’d been doing this for ‘eons’, so why me?”

Cal gives him a look as though Dawson couldn’t have asked a more ridiculous question. “You have no idea, do you?”

“Uh, no? That’s why I’m asking.”

Cal strokes his hair, his soft gaze roaming over Dawson’s rapidly heating face. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he says, sounding sad. “There's a whole world inside you, Dawson, and it's waiting for you to discover it.”

“You're talking like you can see my soul.” Dawson chuckles, all this attention making him squirm. Something in Cal’s face gives him a pause. “Canyou see my soul?

“Not the way I used to,” Cal says, sounding disappointed. Dawson is stuck on theused topart. “The physical doesn't mean much where I come from. I could see you, your body, but it was just the surface. But your soul…” He closes his eyes, a tender smile appearing on his lips for a second. “It shone so bright, despite everything you've endured. It was calling out to me.” His fingers stroke the bridge of Dawson’s nose, the outline of his lips. “I can still see it. It's just different.”

“How?”

“It shines through you. I don’t mean just your body, butyou.Your actions, your words. Every time you help at the shelter, every time you cook for us. When you laugh. When you paint. When we make love.” He brushes their lips together, and Dawson can’t hold back anymore.

He surges forward to capture Cal’s lips, rough and unapologetic. He needs Cal’s kisses more than he needs air right now, feeling himself grow more desperate the more they kiss. He can feel Cal smile against his lips, taking everything Dawson’s giving him.

Dawson is dizzy when they finally pull apart, needing actual air now. Stupid human body.

Cal kisses his pout away. “You're beautiful Dawson, inside and out. There's nothing,no one, like you.”

Dawson lets out a groan. “You seriously need to write a book.”