Dark Kiss Of The Reaper

by Kristen Painter

  Sara glared at the woman, who immediately retreated to her sandwich and drink.

  He wanted to jump up and shout, even though the thought of doing something like that shocked him. “It’s a great idea. Don’t worry about my schedule, it’s very adaptable.”

  Sara laughed. “You’re smiling like a kid at Christmas.” She shook her finger. “Don’t get any ideas. Nothing gets unwrapped until I say it does.”

  “I would never assume otherwise.” He tried to smooth his grin but couldn’t. She was coming to his home.

  And of course, Saturday night took forever to arrive. There was only so much instruction to give his staff and preparation to be done before he went to get her – especially since his home was never untidy or unkempt. He did want to be sure he had everything she liked, including coffee. She seemed to have a particular fondness for the stuff, and he knew most mortals, her included, couldn’t function in the morning without it.

  He was early to her apartment, so he kept his Reaper form. An unknown man hanging around a woman’s apartment door might arouse suspicion.

  At last, her car pulled into the parking lot. Finally, she was done with work and all his. He used the shadows of the stairwell to take on his human form. She winked when she saw him, but didn’t say anything as she headed toward the stairs. Once they were hidden by the stairwell he pulled her into his arms. He kissed her hello, the taste of her adding new fire to the anticipatory heat that had been building in him all day.

  “Hi to you, too,” she whispered when the kiss ended, her lids heavy with what he hoped was her own anticipation.

  “Ready to go?”

  “You bet. I just need to change and get my bag. C’mon up.” He followed her into the apartment, relaxing on the couch while she changed.

  She came back out dressed in jeans and an ivory top. She plopped a small overnight bag on the arm of the couch. “Okay, I’m all yours.”

  He’d never heard sweeter words.

  His low whistle brought Pallidus through in a portal of mist. Squeezed between the sofa and dining table, the horse overwhelmed the small apartment.

  She laughed. “I hope none of my neighbors can see in. Horses definitely violate the no pets over twenty pounds rule.”

  “Don’t worry. Just like the way only you can see me, you’re the only mortal who can see him.” Azrael took her bag and held out his hand. “Your ride awaits.”

  He helped her onto Pallidus’s back, then mounted behind her. “Shall we?”

  Sara nodded. “I’m really looking forward to this.”

  “So am I.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and she leaned back. He brushed the top of her head with a kiss. Tonight had to go well. He needed her in his life. Wanted her to be a part of his world in whatever way possible.

  And if she’d let him, he’d give her everything she ever dreamed of.

  * * *

  Mist enveloped them as Pallidus took flight and Sara knew there’d be nothing to see until they came closer to their destination. And as eager as she was to see Azrael’s home, she found contentment in the moment, in being back in his arms. The irony of finding a sense of safety with Death himself wasn’t lost on her.

  The mist swirled away sooner than expected. The land beneath them unfolded in a bruised wash of umber fields and amethyst hills. Twilight dusted the horizon with muted violet and heather.

  She leaned forward to get a better look. A mansion sprawled across the land below, all curves of gray stone and rounded turrets like a Disney-inspired castle. Intricate gardens surrounded the home. Hedge mazes that seemed to have no solution wound out from the west and east ends of the building, their ordered lines tightly controlled. A wide, half-circled path in the front served as a sort of drive. In the fading light, it luminesced like a river of moonlight.

  It was all very peaceful and yet a sense of melancholy lingered in the air with the perfume of old roses. His home was both beautiful and haunting.

  “This is your home?” She asked not because she wasn’t sure, but because she needed affirmation that he truly lived in this place.

  “Yes.” His voice held a note of uncertainty.

  He must wonder what she thought of it. “It’s beautiful,” she reassured him, meaning the words down to her heart. “Like something out of a dream.” And that was exactly what it was. A dreamland. No place like this could exist anywhere else but here. She couldn’t wait to see it when the sun came up.

  Pallidus set down on the luminous circular path. Beyond them stood the mansion’s great arched double doors. Azrael slid off first, then helped her down. Gravel rolled beneath her feet. She glanced down at the odd, rounded stones that seemed to hold their own light.

  “Isn’t that odd?” she asked, mostly to herself. She bent and scooped up a few, rolling the soft shapes in her hand for closer inspection. Her jaw fell open. “Are these what I think they are?”

  “Pearls? Yes.” Azrael hefted her bag, then patted Pallidus’s hindquarters. The horse trotted off toward the fields.

  “You paved your driveway with pearls.” She let the precious gems trickle out of her hand and back onto the ground. His driveway was wide enough for two cars and easily as long as a football field. Creating the pathway must have taken hundreds of thousands of pearls. Pearls that somehow didn’t slip or roll under foot.

  He shrugged. “I like the light they give off.”

  “You must have to replace them all the time. One big vehicle and...” She paused, realizing she had no idea what kind of automation existed in his world.

  “I have no visitors.”

  “None?” A ghostly figure without much real shape drifted past, the barely visible face drawn and anguished. She pointed to the thing as it disappeared around the corner of a hedge. “What was that?”

  “A Shade.” Before she could comment further, he swept the hand holding her bag toward the double doors while offering her his other arm. “Welcome to my home.”

  She rested her hand in the crook of his arm and walked with him toward the house. The Shade was a little freaky but his earlier confession still rung in her head. No visitors. What a lonely existence he must live. “So I’m the first mortal to see your home?”

  “You’re the first to ever step foot in my world. No mortal could be here uninvited.”

  The doors opened as they climbed the marble steps. He nodded toward the pale figure in the doorway. “Vitus, my butler, is a Shade, as are all the other staff, although they’ve been granted much more substantial forms.”

  He turned to her at the threshold and brought her hand to his mouth for a kiss. “My home is yours. Anything you need, you have simply to ask me or any of my staff.” He squeezed her hand and smiled. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Thank you for inviting me.” Treading where no human had ever been before gave her an odd thrill. If this was the Underworld, it wasn’t all that bad. In the bright light of day it would probably be a very lovely place.

  Vitus bowed and opened the doors further, revealing her first glimpse into Azrael’s home.

  “Oh...” she whispered. “Oh my.”

  The foyer beyond was awash in silver gilt moldings and decorative trim. An enormous chandelier hung from the high, frescoed ceiling like a crystal wedding cake. She stepped through the door still holding Azrael’s hand. Unable to keep her gaze from roaming, she stared unabashedly, trying to take it all in. The subtle scent of spice permeated the air.

  The plaster walls were the color of pale blue slate and as smooth as glass. A thick wool runner spanned the hall’s length in a woodland scene of deer and pheasant. The floor itself seemed to be tiled with great squares of mother of pearl. Delicate strains of chamber music floated in from another room.

  “This is gorgeous.” She tore her gaze from the room long enough to meet Azrael’s eyes.

  He grinned, clearly pleased. “I’m glad you like it. Would you like to see the rest?”

  “Yes, definitely.” If the foyer looked like this, how much better
could the rest of the house be?

  He handed her bag to Vitus, who clutched it like a priceless object. “Take that to Sara’s room, then see that dinner is underway.”

  The Shade nodded and disappeared.

  “He doesn’t talk much, does he?”

  Azrael’s dark gaze stayed on the spot where Vitus had been. “He doesn’t talk at all. None of the Shades do. They can’t.” He blinked, then offered her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Come. I’ll show you the rest.”

  She didn’t budge. “Do all souls turn into Shades?”

  “No, mostly those taken before their time.”

  “Like the ones Kol reaps.”

  “Yes.” He gestured down the hall, clearly done with the topic. “Shall we?”

  But she had more questions. “What happens to the other souls then?”

  He dropped his hand to his side. “Some pass on to a heavenly paradise as a reward for a faithful life well lived, some pass on to Hades’ Underworld—what mortals think of as Hell—to be punished for their evil ways. And some, the very youngest, are sent to the Fates to be reborn into mortal life for another chance.”

  “Hades? As in the god Hades?”

  “Yes, but his portion of the Underworld doesn’t touch this one.” He raised a brow. “Any more questions?”

  “No. Not for now anyway.” She took his hand, her head stuffed with the information he’d just given her. “Lead on.”

  Each room in Azrael’s house was more impressive than the last, but it reminded Sara of a museum after closing hours. The home bore little evidence of being lived in, no signs of any human touch. She chided herself for that thought. What human touch could there be in such a place? With every new and beautiful room, her heart broke a little more for Azrael. Beauty was no substitute for companionship, and clearly his mute staff couldn’t supply much of that either.

  They stopped at the end of a long hall filled with grandly framed mirrors and stood before two opposing sets of elaborately carved double doors. He moved to the pair on the right, rested his hand on the knob and inclined his head slightly. “Your room.”

  She lifted her chin and slanted her eyes to the other set of doors. “And those?”

  “Mine.”

  He turned the knob and pushed the door open, letting her in first.

  “I hope you find the space to your liking.”

  Her hand went to her throat. The room was a morning sunrise of blush and ivory and rose. Thick cream carpet latticed with gold covered the floor. Pale pink silk shot through with gold thread swathed the canopied bed and walls. An impressive star-shaped chandelier hung from a ceiling frescoed to resemble a dawn sky. Pinpoints of light set into the plaster picked out the constellations. Bouquets of white and shell pink roses unfurled their decadent scent into the air. If she’d designed the room herself, she wouldn’t have done anything differently, not that she would have ever imagined something this beautiful.

  “It’s a fairytale,” she breathed. Her bag, looking completely mundane and out of place, rested on the plush bed. She twisted to face him. “If you never have visitors, how is it you have a room like this?”

  “It’s for you.” He shifted uncomfortably, not quite making eye contact.

  “I understand that, but why even have such a room if no one ever comes to visit.”

  “It’s only for you.”

  “You don’t mean that this room was created for me, do you?” That couldn’t be right. Would he do that? The possibility was too overwhelming. Her breath caught at being the focus of such attention.

  His gaze stayed on the floor as he pointed toward a single arched door. “The guest bath is through there.”

  Instead of asking again, she nodded and walked through the door to see what other wonders might exist. The adjoining bath was a study in opulence. Sunk into the marble floor was a pool large enough for three or four bathers. Or one average sized mortal and one large Reaper. Steam rose in lazy swirls from the crystal blue depths, heating the room with a sensuous, inviting warmth. The urge to shed her clothes and indulge was nearly irresistible. She didn’t doubt he’d follow her lead.

  “It’s fed from an underground hot spring.”

  She jumped, not so much startled by his presence as she was at being caught with her head full of wicked thoughts.

  “Oh.” She giggled nervously. She was alone. With him. In his house. In his world.

  Every muscle in her body thrummed with the night’s potential.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He leaned against the doorframe, filling the passage.

  “I was just lost in how beautiful this all is.” Her fingers trailed the marble ledge holding thick white towels. She ran her hand over them, not surprised by their velvety softness. Everything in his world was the best of its kind.

  So what was she doing here?

  He tipped his head toward the adjacent wall and the robe that hung from a hook there. “That’s for you, too.”

  The snow-white robe bore an elaborate calligraphy S over the breast. She traced a finger over the silver embroidery. “You did do all this for me, didn’t you?”

  His jaw tightened, then relaxed. “And if I did?”

  Was he worried he would scare her away with so much attention? Moving away from the robe, she stepped closer to splay her hand over his heart. “Then I’m a very lucky woman.”

  He covered her hand with his own. The contact made her want more.

  “Luck has nothing to do with it.” His mouth crooked. “I should probably stop cursing the Fates, though.”

  If he kissed her now, they’d end up in that sinful nest of a bed in the other room.

  “I love you, Sara. I know you’re not ready to say that back to me...maybe you’ll never say it to me, but it doesn’t change the way I feel.”

  The fullness in her heart made her head spin. Being loved like this was an intoxicating thing. She leaned in, letting him support her, and stared at their joined hands. “I think I do love you, but it scares me.”

  “I scare you?”

  “No, not you. Loving you. I barely know what it means to be in love, let along with a man like you.” She met his shining gaze and understood something new had begun between them in that moment. A course of action set into motion she was powerless to stop.

  “What do you want it to mean?”

  “Safety. Security. Joy. Passion. A life of happiness and contentment.” She smiled. “I want it all.”

  He raised her fingertips and brushed them across his lips. “I can give you that and more.”

  She wondered about the truth of that. Not that she thought he lied, just that what he meant and what she wanted might be two different things. What about children? Were they included in his ‘more’? She didn’t want to delve any deeper for fear she’d ruin the time they had together. What she wanted at the moment was something far more temporal.

  More physical.

  More wicked.

  “So...” She held his dark gaze, let her deepest desires rise into her eyes. “Your room is across the hall?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The heat in Azrael’s belly had nothing to do with the temperature of the guest bath. Sara’s heady gaze had kindled a fire so fierce, it could burn them both down. He shoved open the doors to his chambers, waited for her to enter, then secured them again.

  He tried to see the room through her eyes. His personal space was nothing like the rest of the house. No heavy tapestries or ornate gilded mirrors hung from the walls here. Clean, simple lines dictated the few pieces of furniture, his bed, the leather chaise before the fire, the writing desk and chair. Even the pattern of the rugs was simple. The colors here were born of shadow; soft grays, muted blues, some black.

  She drew her hand along the leather chaise, nodding as she drifted toward the balcony. “It’s very you, I have to say.”

  Firelight flickered in the panes of the balcony doors, outlining her where she stood peering into the dark. Night had arrived, rem
oving the last of twilight’s soft glow.

  “Is that a good thing?” He moved to stand behind her, wanting to touch her, but knowing when he did, he wouldn’t stop.

  “Yes,” she answered without turning. “I think it is. What’s beyond these doors? What’s the view? I’m so turned around I don’t know what direction I’m facing anymore.”

  He reached past, turned the knob and pushed. “The back of the house overlooks the fields and beyond to the river dividing my land from my brothers.”

  She walked out to the carved stone balustrades, leaning forward with her hands planted and her shoulders drawn up. “I didn’t realize you all lived in the same place, but I guess that makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  After a few steps, he stopped with enough distance between them to assure they made it to dinner. “There is only one Underworld, but my brothers’ lands are very different from mine.”

  “I like your home.” She tipped her head back to the star encrusted sky. At least his world had that much to offer her. “They look close enough to touch,” she murmured. “So much bigger and brighter than at home.”

  “You outshine them.”

  She laughed softly. “You say the sweetest things.”

  He stayed were he was, although he longed to pin her against the balustrades and discover the wonders of mortal flesh. He swallowed hard. “We should go down for dinner.”

  She turned, replanted her hands on the rail and stared into him as though she knew he struggled to keep from ravishing her and didn’t care. Maybe she didn’t.

  Maybe she struggled too.

  “Hmm, yes, dinner.” She glanced down at her clothes. “I don’t think I’m dressed appropriately for dinner in a house like this.”

  “You look fine.” Better than fine, and speaking of dinner, good enough to eat. He wanted his hands on her skin, his mouth on her—

  Her head snapped up. “Did you just growl?”

  “Must have been my stomach.” He motioned back toward the doors. “Shall we?” The sooner they ate, the sooner they could have dessert.