Dark Kiss Of The Reaper

by Kristen Painter

  “No. Right now, we exist on a different plane.”

  She tried not to think about what that meant exactly. “Why doesn’t he just carry his son out of here?”

  Azrael didn’t have to answer the question. The father pulled the blanket back.

  A rusty stain covered the mattress beneath the younger man’s torso. His clothing was torn away, revealing a dark, angry wound. The father dipped a rag in a bowl of water, rung it out and gently wiped at the injury. His son moaned.

  Sara put her hand to her mouth. Liquid heat burned her eyes. “He can’t move him. Would the son...pass on his own anyway?”

  “Yes.” Azrael’s wings unfurled as much as possible in the low-ceilinged room. “But it is better that I take the son now, sparing him further pain and setting the father free to reunite with his remaining family.”

  He looked at her, holding her gaze with his dark one. “You understand this? What I do?”

  She nodded. She understood perfectly. He was truly the Angel of Death. The Reaper of Mercy. And knowing who he was only made her like him that much more. A man who put the needs of others first. Who cared about people’s pain and suffering.

  So his brothers were scary and creepy. Manda’s younger brother worked as a female impersonator and she didn’t have a problem with it. Sara could learn to deal.

  The father finished tending his son and recovered him, returning to his prayerful rocking. In the distance, gunfire echoed like corn popping.

  Azrael stepped away from her and stood beside the father. He reached down and took the son’s hand, pulling a wavering, transparent likeness of the son to his feet. The likeness stared at Azrael, then at his father. He mumbled something, nodded to Azrael, and then drifted into nothing.

  The father’s head came up. The rocking stopped. He laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Emir?” He shook his son gently. “Emir?” His voice was louder this time.

  He laid his head to his son’s chest and went very still. After a few moments, he closed his eyes and began to weep.

  Azrael turned, blocking her sight with his wings. “Our time here is up.”

  Sara rose up on her tiptoes, trying to see the father. “Will he be okay? Will he get out of here safely?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t see the future, only what I’m given.” He lifted his hand toward the doorway. “We must go.”

  Pallidus was right where they’d left him. This time, Azrael helped Sara up first, then settled in behind her. She wanted to say something to him, to tell him that even though everything he’d shown her had been horrific, she understood that he wasn’t responsible for the people’s deaths. She saw clearly what his role was and how good he was. How kind.

  But as they ascended, she just couldn’t find the words. None of the sentences forming in her head seemed to fully capture what she felt, or what she wanted to tell him about everything she’d seen. And the way she understood who he was and what he did.

  Maybe he knew. Maybe words weren’t necessary.

  She leaned back a little, just enough to feel the hard wall of muscle behind her. Ray always told her she was a lousy communicator. That he never understood what she was thinking.

  Clouds spread out like a field of snow beneath them. No way of telling how quickly this experience would end.

  “Azrael?”

  “Yes?” His voice sounded from near her ear, as though his head was dipped to be closer to her. One simple word and she nearly shivered with the delicious things it did to her. He spoke it so it meant a million more things. Like he was offering himself to her.

  She dismissed the heady fantasy that a being like this could want her. He could have any woman. Probably did. Still, she wouldn’t give up this opportunity since she’d had so few recently.

  “Thank you...for taking me with you. It wasn’t easy to see a lot of what you showed me, but I understand now. About you. And what you do.” There was so much more, but she couldn’t bring herself to say how wonderful it would be to see him again without sounding like some foolish, lovesick teenager and she really didn’t want to look foolish in front of him.

  He was silent for longer than she’d expected. Crap. Had she said something to offend him?

  “I’m glad,” he said, instantly relieving her. “I apologize if my brothers frightened you.”

  She laughed softly. “You can’t choose your family.”

  “Sometimes you can.”

  Tipping her head, she glanced up. He was looking straight ahead, his eyes unreadable. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head. “We’re almost back.”

  The clouds rose up around them, obscuring her view. When they cleared, Pallidus stood in the hospital hallway where they’d started out.

  Azrael slid down and held out his hands to help her. She reached for him, settling her hands on his solid shoulders, his hands grasping her waist. Bittersweet warmth filled her in that moment knowing they’d already begun to say goodbye.

  The time they’d just spent together had been interesting a way she could never explain to any of her friends. More than that, the sense of calm she felt being with him...no man had ever made her feel that way.

  No man.

  Her hands slipped from his shoulders and down his arms as her feet touched linoleum. How amazing those eyes were...obsidian and silver and magic. His hands stayed at her waist, which was fine with her. Death was much warmer than she’d have guessed.

  “I guess this is goodbye then.” She bent her head to stare at his chest and the weave of his robe.

  His grip loosened. “Only if...yes, I guess it is.” His hands fell away.

  She looked up as her hands went to her sides. “I won’t see you anymore?”

  Lines bracketed his mouth. “I don’t know how long your ability to see me will be allowed.”

  “Allowed? Who’s allowing me to see you now?” She propped her fists on her hips.

  “The Fates.” He rolled his eyes heavenward, shaking his head in obvious disgust.

  “You mean like the Greek mythology Fates?”

  “Something like that, yes.” He sighed.

  “Are you telling me they’re real, too?”

  He nodded. “Unfortunately.”

  She raised her brows. “Not your favorite people, I take it?”

  “Let’s just say we don’t always see eye to eye.”

  Sara tipped her head back. “We don’t either.” That got her a smile. A bright, knee-melting smile.

  “And yet you might be my most favorite person of all.”

  Now would be a good time for him to kiss her. Especially since she might never ever see him again. “What if I don’t agree with the Fates either?”

  His forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

  “What if they don’t want me to see you again, but I do?”

  New light sparkled in his eyes. “You want to see me?”

  “It’s...kind of neat to be able to see you.” That was lame, but telling him she thought he was hot was out of the question. Better stick to the sheer novelty of being friends with the Angel of Death, for now. She shrugged as nonchalantly as she could manage. “You could stop by when you’re not, you know, reaping souls. Say hi, that kind of thing.”

  He sighed. Seeming to deflate a bit. “Oh. Sure.”

  Ray was right. She was a horrible communicator. She laid her hand on Azrael’s arm. “What I mean to say is that I...like you. And I’d like to see you again.” She paused. “I want to see you again. If that’s okay with you.”

  A smile curved his full mouth. “You’re asking me on a date.”

  “No!” She slapped her hands over her face. “Yes.” She peeked from between her fingers. “Is that even possible? You and me dating, I mean?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “What about you being invisible to everyone else? You don’t think that might be an issue?” She could see it now. Having imaginary friends as a child was one thing, but imaginary dates? Not a
good idea. Manda would have her signed into the psych ward in a hot minute.

  He leaned forward, eyes twinkling with something new. “I have a human form. No one will know who I really am except for you.”

  “Really?” Hope sprung eternal.

  “Yes, really.”

  “So I guess we could go out then. At least once. I mean, we could try it.” Her hands started trembling. She took a deep breath and tried not to think too much about what had just happened. But then, her first date in seven months was a night out with the Angel of Death. A little trepidation was to be expected.

  She twisted her hands, bit at the inside of her cheek. “How do we do this? I’m guessing you don’t have a phone or email.”

  He gave her a little half-smile. “Freeman Square, the general’s statue, seven o’clock. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “You know Freeman Square?”

  “I know a lot of places.”

  She bet he did. “Seven o’clock tomorrow?”

  “Is that all right?”

  “Yes.” She’d find a way to be there. Maybe switch shifts with another secretary. “I’ll be there.” She was going on a date. With Death. Even her skin felt twitchy now.

  He laid a hand on Pallidus’ shoulder. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me too.” And she meant it, despite the new nerves.

  Mounting in a smooth, easy motion, he nodded to her as the fog lifted, obscuring him. A few seconds later, the mist cleared and he was gone.

  Feeling a bit fuzzy-headed, she blinked a few times before realizing she was technically still at work. She wandered down the hall, back to the nurse’s station.

  Manda’s head popped up. “Done practicing your Tai Bo?”

  She narrowed her eyes as if looking serious might add some veracity to her statement. “I was getting water.”

  Manda looked at Sara’s hands. “So where is it?”

  “I didn’t have any singles.”

  “You want to borrow a dollar?” Manda’s cheeks bunched in a poorly contained smile.

  Smarty pants. “No, I’m good.” Water was the last thing on her mind.

  “You want to go over those schedules now?”

  “Sure,” Sara answered. Manda acted like nothing unusual had happened. Sara glanced at the clock.

  She’d only been gone three minutes.

  Chapter Six

  “Kol!”

  Azrael bellowed his brother’s name into the cold wind that perpetually scrubbed Kol’s bleak domain, trying to be heard above the reverberating thump of the mortal music Kol constantly played. Shades drifted past, plucking at him, searching for remnants of souls to make their own.

  Kol’s front door stayed closed, but the music’s pounding increased. Calling it music was being kind. Mortals named it heavy metal. Azrael knew his brother played it to drown out the cries of the reaped souls he heard day in and day out. So be it. Azrael had no room in his heart for sympathy today.

  “Kol! I know you’re in there.” The Reapers could sense each other. “Let me in or I’ll break the door down.”

  The door didn’t move. With no servants to open it, Kol would have to do it himself. Azrael growled low in his throat as he stomped up the stairs and onto Kol’s porch. His brother’s lack of hospitality was completely understandable, but did nothing to temper Azrael’s anger over his recent behavior.

  “This is your last chance.” He pounded his fist on the door. “Let me in.”

  Azrael knew how his brothers saw him. Because he was the Reaper of Mercy, they imagined him the weakest of the three. Slow to anger, quick to forgive, always there when they needed him. Certainly no one they should worry about. Time for them to think differently.

  Time for them to understand that Azrael was gone.

  He leaned back, lifted his foot and kicked the door open, splintering the casing and yanking the hinges loose with a metallic screech audible above the sound of mortal rock and roll.

  “Kol!”

  The music died away. A pale shadow emerged at the top of the sweeping stairway. “That was unnecessary.”

  Shirtless in black leather pants, Kol had obviously just rolled out of his bed, no doubt recovering from some debauchery. His dark glasses were missing as well. He shoved a hand through his long black hair and stared hard at Azrael, although his fatal gaze only worked on mortals.

  Azrael stared back. “Your actions toward my female companion were unacceptable.”

  “Female companion.” Kol laughed derisively and shook his head. “You’re such a snob, Az. Maybe getting some will lighten you up, but I doubt it.”

  Heat gnawed at Azrael’s belly. “And being like you would be better? Perhaps you’re right, but nights of indiscriminate sex with mortal women too drunk to understand who I am just isn’t my style.”

  Kol’s eyes flashed. “I don’t have a choice.”

  “You could choose not to.”

  “Get out of my house.” Kol headed toward his bedroom.

  “Not until you swear to leave Sara alone.”

  Kol turned, eyes narrowing. “Or what? You’ll huff and you’ll puff and blow my house down? Go home, Az. You don’t scare me.”

  The Darkness rose within him, a razor-clawed dragon awakening hungry after eons of sleep. He gave it sway, let it fill him.

  “Don’t I?” The words left him in a guttural snarl.

  Kol stepped back, jutted his chin out. “Our visceral forms take ages to master. You can’t threaten me with something you have no control over.”

  Taking advantage of Kol’s large entryway, Azrael unfurled his wings to their full span. Neither Chronos nor Kol had ever seen his full visceral form, but Kol’s words pushed him to reveal more.

  Talons sprouted from the joints of his gray-feathered wings. The Darkness surged along his veins, twisted over his bones like a poison vine. It craved full release. Azrael held it in check. This was not the time.

  “Your assumptions will be your ruin, brother.” The Darkness turned his voice to gravel. Giving it full reign would erase his voice altogether. “Leave Sara alone or I will prove how wrong you are.”

  Kol nodded, his unshaded eyes large. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

  The look on Kol’s face was answer enough. Azrael swept through Kol’s ruined door. An uncommon happiness filled him. He smiled as The Darkness retreated.

  His date with Sara couldn’t come soon enough.

  * * *

  Sara threw the third outfit of the afternoon onto the bed. As if getting out of work early wasn’t hard enough, now she had to figure out what to wear. How was she supposed to do that when she didn’t know what they’d be doing or where they’d be going on their date?

  A smile played on her lips. They were going on a date. If she’d had the time, she would have gone shopping for something new. Her cable bill could wait another week.

  She grabbed her favorite little black dress. The three-quarter length sleeves and wrap styling made it a classic, but she’d hesitated to try it, wondering if it was too dressy. One twirl in the mirror and she couldn’t think of a better outfit.

  Silver filigree hoops and black peep-toe heels completed the look. Please don’t let him show up in jeans and a t-shirt when I look like this. Maybe he’d wear khaki’s and a nice shirt. Or better yet...a suit. A man in a suit made her knees weak. The thought of Azrael in one made her nearly faint and more than a little hot.

  She fanned herself. Time enough for fantasies later. The real thing was waiting for her.

  She grabbed one of her favorite vintage finds, an ivory cardigan with jet beading. The nights were getting cooler and they might go for a walk. She liked the idea of that, especially if it were hand-in-hand.

  Her small silver mesh handbag only held a few essentials but when it came to dating the Angel of Death, choosing lipstick over pepper spray seemed like a no-brainer. Besides, if he were going to try something, wouldn’t he have done it already?

  Another smile curved her mout
h as she slicked on raspberry gloss. He would try something, wouldn’t he? Like at least a kiss?

  Half an hour later, she’d finally found parking within two blocks of Freeman Square. She popped a breath mint before she got out, then locked her little red compact. The car might not be sexy, but it was reliable and good on gas. And the only thing she’d been able to afford after the divorce.

  She checked her reflection in the car window, smoothing her hair and wishing for something more exciting than straight and mouse-brown. Nothing to be done about it now.

  A few couples strolled through Freeman Square as dusk settled. A young man in a knit cap and goatee played guitar on the steps of the bandstand.

  She’d come here with Ray once, early on in their relationship. It was one of the few happy memories she had of their time together. Before she’d realized how controlling he could be.

  The melody of running water told her she was almost at her destination. The general’s statue was the centerpiece of the park’s fountain.

  Fresh nerves tingled over her skin. She checked her watch. Early by ten minutes. Would he be there yet? What did his human form look like? What had he planned? Would he think she looked nice?

  Deep breath. Dating was dating, no matter how much time passed between actual occurrences. Of course, she’d never dated a supernatural being before. She smiled. Maybe he was nervous too.

  Somehow, she doubted it.

  * * *

  Azrael materialized in the midst of some trees where he couldn’t be seen. With only a second’s concentration, he changed into his human form. It had been a while since he’d taken it on. He hadn’t had the desire.

  Still, the human male was an enjoyable form to assume. He stretched, feeling the way his muscles moved. Being human was a pleasure he’d denied himself, thinking it would drive him to the same kind of pursuits his brothers enjoyed. At least tonight, he would not have to worry about that. Sara wanted his company. If things went well tonight, she would continue to feel that way.

  He straightened his jacket, wondering what she’d think of him. His human appearance differed a bit from the way he looked as a Reaper. What if she didn’t like it? Or didn’t recognize him?