by K. D. Worth
I pulled back and glanced at him and then away. “Yeah, but it kinda hurt a little.”
Though it only hurt after I realized what was happening. When I was relaxed and in the moment, I hadn’t even noticed. My body had accepted him, like that was how it was supposed to be. But saying that felt far too personal and intimate, so I shrugged, not meeting his eye. “I just need to relax. And maybe we need more practice.”
Kody touched my face until I looked at him.
Sharing a tender, secretive smile, we didn’t say anything; maybe we didn’t have to. We just held each other, me still straddling his lap and feeling sticky on both sides now. I reached behind me, curious if my body felt different, but it didn’t. I didn’t really feel that different on the inside, either, although I expected I should have, right? I mean, Kody and I just had sex.
Like real sex.
Granted, I don’t think more than an inch or two of him was inside me, but it was legitimately official now.
I thought I’d feel different afterward, more like a man, an adult. But I didn’t. Maybe because I loved Kody and he loved me. Or maybe every single moment I had with him I cherished because I feared he might move on to bigger and better things without me. As if our love, our relationship, and every part of it was temporary.
Slade said Kody was a direct conduit to God—which was no doubt why he heard prayers. Kody promised he would always be with me, but everything was changing. The world, me. Us. Nothing was certain anymore. Shades were no longer the bad guys, and maybe neither were the wraiths. Our destiny had irrefutably changed our lives. But in this moment, everything was good and perfect. Us together like this. Our love.
“Max?”
I looked up, surprised Kody was blurred by tears. I hadn’t realized I was crying.
He looked very worried as he brushed the wetness from my cheeks. “Are you okay? I’m sorry.”
I kissed him quiet. Then I pulled back and smiled. “Never be sorry for anything between us.”
“Are you sure? We never talked about it first.” His long neck was exposed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “It just kinda slipped in, and it felt so good that… I should’ve pulled out, I—”
“Shh,” I whispered. Then I gave him a shy smile, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment as I met his blue eyes. “Maybe it’s better that we didn’t talk about it first. Because I was relaxed, and it didn’t hurt until I realized what was happening, and then I tensed up.” While I spoke the very words that I’d been afraid to say a moment ago, I didn’t want to be afraid of anything with Kody ever again. I wanted us to be honest… always.
“You’re not upset?”
I gripped his face in my hands. “No. It was just a surprise. But a good surprise.”
“You said I hurt you,” he insisted, his voice cracking. “I never want to hurt you.”
“Only when I tensed up. Before that, it just felt… um? Like you fit.”
“It did?”
Rolling my lips, I bit back a smile and nodded. “But we might need more practice.”
At that, Kody grinned. “And I’ll have to figure out how to get you nice and relaxed next time, huh?”
“Yeah, you will.” My belly trembled with excitement about a next time. “I love you, Kody.”
“I love you too, Max.”
With all of the insane things happening in the world, the wraiths, and the shades, I knew nothing would be the same again.
The one thing that would always remain?
My love for Kody.
No matter where either of us ended up, we would be together, forever.
KODY—Chapter 15
“IT WASN’T far from here,” Kelli told us, face urgent and hopeful.
I’d noticed Kelli acting very unusual lately, so sad and mournful. Her sadness had been palpable in the air to me. Apparently one of her charges had refused to go to heaven—a father who’d died on the way to his daughter’s wedding.
Now that Max and I knew what happened, we understood her morose mood.
Max was excited about helping her today, surprising me somewhat because he had never been a fan of Kelli… yet it didn’t really surprise me.
After everything we’d learned and shared the past few days, I didn’t know if my magic made my snarky boyfriend sweeter, or maybe I was just rubbing off on him—well not just that way, I thought, stifling a giggle. But the longer we were together, the more we became like the other.
Every day I spent with Max, I grew stronger, more confident.
And it seemed Max was becoming softer… or at least allowing others to see the gentle side he’d only ever shown me.
“There he is,” Kelli declared and we both turned. She looked at me, her green eyes shining with a painful futility I felt in my bones.
An amazing thing happened to me after I helped Laurence cross over.
I could see the shades.
And I didn’t even have to try anymore.
They were just there.
And they weren’t scary shadows like that nightmare I’d had as a child. Yes, they were darker than a normal spirit, and yes, they were shadowy, as if somehow only an imprint of their true personality remained.
But I could see them.
Kelli’s shade was a middle-aged man in a tuxedo, wringing and pulling at his hair as he paced in front of a church.
Instantly my empathy swelled for him, his heart-wrenching sadness and guilt striking me like a bucket of water in the face.
I wasn’t fully prepared for it, but with the strength of Max’s love, our soul-deep connection uniting us, I was hastily able to create that barrier to keep the man from taking my strength. It came as natural as breathing.
Hey, I might not fully have the hang of this, but I was getting there.
Beside me, Max squeezed my hand. “His feelings aren’t yours,” he whispered.
“I know.” I smiled, appreciating the reminder as much as his bolstering presence.
I studied Kelli’s charge, and the longer I did, the more his thoughts came to me in sharp images. He’d been on his way to walk his daughter down the aisle, but he’d been rushing, texting them at this church. He ran a stop sign, killed instantly on impact.
While I saw his death playing out, with Max by my side, holding my hand, and that warm shield he physically created around my heart, yes, I felt his pain.
But it did not hurt me.
Don’t get me wrong, it hurt, it was sad, and it was awful, but I maintained control of my emotions. I was sad for him—death was a sad business—but I tried to imagine watching his death on TV, not living it as if it were my own.
My desire to help him superseded his fear.
Was I learning to balance this give-and-take that Slade tried to explain to me?
I’d like to think so, yes.
Kelli looked on the verge of tears, so I placed my hand on her arm, looping her into the warm sensation of hope that Max filled me with. “It’s going to be okay, Kelli.”
Her face softened and she nodded. Then she flinched. “What is that?” she asked, looking at my hand on her arm.
To my surprise, my hand glowed.
“It’s Max’s light,” I answered, grinning back at Max. Yet another evolution in our powers—his light literally traveled through me and into Kelli.
So cool!
I smiled at Kelli and explained. “It gives me the strength to help the shades cross over.”
Her eyes widened and she gaped at Max.
He squirmed and said nothing.
When Kelli’s anxiety lessened, I let go of her. I hadn’t asked Max for permission to share with Kelli, so I met his gaze. “That was okay, right?”
He gave me the sweetest half smile and nodded once. “Yeah, I trust you, Kods. Always.”
Confident, I led us all up to Kelli’s charge.
“Mr. Jameson,” Kelli said, voice more self-assured due to the love we’d shared with her. “Do you remember me?”
The wild-eyed man had l
ost some of his solidness, but I could hear his thoughts—he didn’t remember Kelli.
Until she materialized a door.
“No,” the man cried, recognition coloring his countenance. “No! My daughter is getting married today. I have to walk her down the aisle.” I’ve lost so much time with her, wasted so many chances, he thought. I can’t take this away from her too. “I can’t miss out on this too!”
He was babbling, and while I knew Kelli and Max didn’t hear everything, and I only understood some of the words as they played out in his head and mine, I imagined they understood the situation. Divorce, his neglect, his daughter’s stepfather being the father he’d never been….
Never letting go of Max’s hand, I stepped forward.
“Mr. Jameson, your daughter was married last week. Your funeral was today. You’re not meant to stay in this world any longer,” I told him, kind but firm.
Wild eyes met mine, and he froze.
I felt him fighting me, pulling desperately to stay in this mortal realm, to finish his unfinishable business. It was the same obsession consuming Chad, wanting to capture the thing that had killed him. The same obsession I’d had to be a good Christian and to be forgiven, while I’d been living. I’d found my peace, helped Chad to do so too. And I knew Mr. Jameson needed to find his as well.
Wanting him to find that in the bosom of our Lord, I opened my heart to God’s power, reached out, and touched his hand.
Immediately a fissure of electricity and energy ripped out of my body, but Max’s light fast replaced it, stealing nothing from me. I felt this man’s fear, but none of it changed me, other than a general sympathy for his loss.
That new, wonderful power of holy spirit moved through me, washing over me like a baptism, cleansing away any last lingering fear that I couldn’t do this, that I couldn’t live up to the higher purpose God had entrusted me—and Max—with.
I did not let go of Mr. Jameson, sending him my healing energy and plenty of Max’s strength as the holy spirit flowed through me and into him. The three of us were fused—two reapers and one lost soul. Just like we’d helped Laurence—and even Kelli—the strength of our love and God’s grace helped this man see the truth.
The holy spirit moved through me, side by side with Max’s power. I didn’t think about it. I just let it happen as I locked eyes with Mr. Jameson. Slowly, he began to absorb the healing power of hope God gave him through us, and the wildness seemed to fade from him. Clarity filled his eyes.
I let go of him and the sharp end of the connection stole my breath. My vision swirled and a wave of dizziness went through me.
But when I stumbled back, Max was there to catch me.
He always would be.
I knew that without a shadow of doubt.
While I didn’t pass out this time, I’d have to work on severing my connection to God’s active force. Since I’d sorta known what to expect, and with Max’s light funneling freely into me, the shock faded as quickly as it came.
Kelli mouthed the words thank you. Her deep sense of relief washed over me as she reached out for her charge. “It’ll all be okay soon,” she promised.
Mr. Jameson took her hand and followed her through the door.
Once the door closed and heaven’s light faded, Max cupped my cheeks, brushing my hair back. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Can you believe it?” I said, feeling giddy. “We helped send another shade to heaven.”
“Yeah, that was super cool, but how do you feel? You okay?” His eyes roamed my face, his hands reassuring himself.
With every second he stayed connected to me, the stronger I became. “Actually,” I said with a smile. “I feel really good. I got a little woozy there for a second, but I think I severed the link too abruptly. I’ll have to work on that. But now? I feel terrific.” I thought about it for a moment. “Maybe better than I ever have.”
I’d learned to let go of my past, my earthly life, but with the spirits draining me, I still hadn’t felt confident as a reaper. It was difficult to see my purpose while being tired, both mentally and physically. But as I learned to balance all the nuances of love Slade had shared with me—and of course with Max’s help—I was finally in control, at least in better control than ever before. Once I fully mastered how to stop the drain on my natural empathy, I would be ready to do anything God had planned for me.
MAX—Chapter 16
AFTER WE left the church—and I reassured myself that Kody was indeed okay—the two of us strolled into the common room hand in hand. The exploding sounds of a video game echoed around. Sarah and, to her left, Jake and Dan were all on the couch playing Xbox. I couldn’t help wondering when was the last time those guys had “sucked each other off,” or how the whole thing started, or whose idea it was first.
Had they been just, “Hey, I’m bored and my dick’s hard. Wanna swap BJs?” Or was it quieter, more innocent and tender?
Though really none of my business, a shimmer of desire and curiosity went through me. I glanced at Kody, and he was looking at them too.
Kody had been as shocked as me when I’d told him about Jake and Dan, if not more.
“You’re picturing them together, aren’t you?” Kody teased in my head.
“And you’re not?”
We giggled, and I said to our friends, “What’s up?”
“You seem like you’re in a really good mood,” Jake observed, sharing a glance with Sarah.
“What?” I said defensively. Maybe I could say the same to Jake, but I didn’t want Dan to get into trouble.
“Nothing,” Jake said, casually petting Herman’s sleek orange back. “You guys just seem really happy. It’s nice. You know, after everything.”
Jake wasn’t someone I talked to very often, and I couldn’t really put my finger on why. He was always making coffee and wandering around the library. Sometimes I felt like I spent more time trying to avoid him when I was researching shades than getting to know him. I looked back now and it seemed almost silly, my obsession with shades. If I had known then what Kody and I were capable of together—if I had trusted and had faith—I wouldn’t have been so fixated on the spirits.
And heck, if I’d known Jake appreciated the beauty of naked men, maybe we could’ve been better friends than we were.
But oh well, everyone needed to learn what they needed to learn at their own pace. Totally a Slade-ism, but there you go. I guess he was our teacher, so like teacher like student.
“Maybe you’re in a good mood because you officially got laid last night,” Kody whispered in my mind.
Eyes wide, I looked at him and frowned, shaking my head for him to be quiet.
Chuckling, he playfully swatted my arm and hip-bumped me. Dan might act as if intimacy was a casual thing, but it wasn’t like that for Kody and me.
We were private, and I liked to keep it that way.
I sat on the comfy loveseat and Kody sat beside me, still holding my hand.
Sarah and Dan—the video-game obsessed of our group—were in the middle of playing a game, and we watched it for a moment while Jake sipped a coffee and petted Herman.
Beside me, Kody playfully nudged my side, trying to tickle me. I didn’t mind. I loved this jovial Kody. The fun, lighthearted boy I’d fallen in love with. The one who did card tricks for me and baked me cookies or got overly excited about some new superhero movie. But I couldn’t deny the longer we were together, the more I’d learned to appreciate the melancholy Kody who showed up sometimes. I remembered his sister telling me once, “Some days he’s gonna be sad, and you just have to let him, no matter how much it hurts. Don’t pressure him to be anybody but himself.”
Best relationship advice ever.
Sometimes Kody was sad, but lately he’d been so full of joy that he understood and was beginning to fulfill his purpose for God.
The Healer was healing himself by healing others.
I had never loved him more.
“Whoa!” Sarah and Dan declared, laughing wh
en something bloody splashed across the screen.
With a meow and a hiss, Herman jumped from Jake’s lap and landed on the game console.
The TV screen went blank.
Then, to our shock, Herman batted at the game cartridge until it popped out of the console.
“Hey!” Sarah cried when Herman picked it up with his teeth and jumped into the chair where Meegan used to sit.
When Dan reached for the game, Herman hissed, tail switching.
“Guess Herman doesn’t approve,” Jake said with a laugh. He stood and waggled his empty paper cup. “Anyone want a cappuccino? Dan?”
I didn’t know what was more curious, Jake specifically offering Dan a drink and no one else, or feline censorship.
“Thanks, vanilla, please,” Dan replied, shaking his head at Herman guarding the game.
I was a little disappointed when Jake didn’t run a tender hand across Dan’s arm as he passed. Probably why I’d never noticed anything between them. They were just friends—who sometimes sucked each other off.
I never could have that kind of relationship with another boy.
I glanced at Kody.
Not that I wanted any boy but the one I had.
“Do you think cats see us?” Kody mused as the growl of the cappuccino machine filled the kitchen. “You know, when we’re in the human realm?”
“Yes, they do,” Dan said. “Most animals do.”
We all turned in shock. He’d been here the longest.
Dan shrugged. “And in all honesty, Herman isn’t just a cat. Not really.”
“What is he?” I demanded, having always suspected there was more to Herman than orange fur and bad attitude.
“Don’t know. He was here before I got here,” Dan said, stretching his arm out across the back of the couch where Jake had been sitting. “And he was here when some of the older reapers came too.”
“Is he a dead cat’s spirit?” Kody asked.
“Maybe. And our babysitter,” Dan mused.
“Slade’s nanny-cam?” I joked.
“Could be,” Sarah said, chewing a nail. “He did just censor our video game.”