His Soul to Take

by C. M. Torrens

  The memory of his beginning sent a painful ache through him. Fear and pain had made him desperate. His lover lost, his life's blood slipping away. He'd cursed the gods with such venom... but that had been a long time ago. Those gods were gone, that life more dream than memory.

  He found himself in front of a hospital. The white building shone like a beacon, filled with souls crying for release. He stepped inside the long halls, finding his way through doors. The doors unlocked at his touch as he willed them open. He wandered the halls, looking for the souls that called to him. Just two today.

  He found his way to the children's ward, where a line of beds filled the small ICU. He turned his attention to a little girl, not more than six, at the far end of the room. Her head bandaged and tubes running out of her tiny body. Her mother sat holding her hand, whispering to her, telling her the day's events. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she spoke.

  Death slipped to the little girl's bedside and stroked her cheek, releasing her soul from the motionless body. A tumble of red curls framed her round face. It was hard to see what she looked like beneath the tube that kept her breathing. Her mother didn't look up at him. Her eyes focused on her child and fingers clenched tight to a tiny hand.

  He stepped back and waited on the far side of the room. Within minutes machines began to beep and doctors rushed to the child, struggling to keep her alive.

  Death smiled as the little girl sat up, her spirit whole and sweet. She smiled back at him and he held out his hand. Grinning, she skipped to his side, bubbly and filled with energy. Red curls bounced around her round face and bright eyes glittered with life. Her hand slipped into his. Her soul tingled against his skin, less substantial than flesh, but more electric.

  He started to lead her away but she stopped and turned to look at her mother. Tears poured down the older woman's face as a nurse kept her away from the frantic doctors.

  "Momma will be sad if I go,” she said.

  He looked down at her, waiting. This was not a decision he could make, even for a soul as young as hers.

  "Will momma come too?"

  "She'll be along eventually."

  "Promise?"

  "Everyone has to leave at some point."

  "Okay,” she said, and Death led her out the door and down the hall. “Where are we going?"

  "On a grand adventure I think,” Death said, leading her through the hospital to another room at the far end of the hall. “Someone else wants to go too. She's a very tired soul."

  "Ooh fun,” the little girl said and skipped happily at his side.

  Death stopped them in front of a door, and they both walked into a room where an old woman lay sleeping. The little girl watched as he stroked the old woman's cheek and they stepped back to wait.

  Several minutes passed and the machines began to beep. Again, doctors rushed in to try and help, but the old woman was already sitting up, ready to be away from her aged and frail body. She smiled at them both, her soul so much younger than the shell that had once housed her.

  Death stepped out the door with his two charges. Nurses passed through the spirits as he led woman and child out into the hall.

  "Simon?"

  Death turned to see Robert in the hall holding a handful of magazines. Machines beeped behind him as the doctors struggled to revive the old woman. “Hello, Robert."

  "We keep bumping into each other.” Robert turned to watch as the doctors gave up on reviving the old woman. “Did you know her?"

  "No. But I do have work to do.” He hesitated torn between duty and wanting to see Robert again. He glanced at the two impatient spirits waiting for him. “I'll catch up with you later?"

  Robert nodded. “Sure."

  Death led the old woman and child off into somewhere more private and opened the portal. He watched as they smiled and stepped through the gate. He wondered what was beyond and why he was never allowed to enter. He shook his head, trying not to think about it and suddenly needing some fresh air.

  * * * *

  Robert stared after Simon. His face looked worn and his long black trench coat billowed around his knees as he disappeared down the hall. The beeps from the room brought his attention back to the old woman, but the activity had come to a close. A doctor shook his head and pronounced her dead moments later. A nurse stopped in front of him, sympathy in her eyes.

  "Did you know her?"

  Robert shook his head, and the nurse closed the door behind her.

  He turned his attention in the direction Simon had disappeared, his mouth going dry as a thought struck him. That was twice now that people had died while Simon was around. He said he hadn't known the old woman, so why had he even been in the room?

  Robert took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was freaking himself out for no good reason. People died all the time. Could be any reason he was in the room. It could have been the wrong room, or maybe he'd delivered some flowers or something. He was a delivery person after all. People delivered flowers and such to hospitals constantly.

  He smiled at his stupidity and continued toward Maxine's room. Although more a friend of Jerry's than his own friend, he could at least cheer her up some.

  Maxine's room was crowded with friends and relatives as she recounted the story of the club fire. Robert grunted the occasional confirmation and eventually slipped from the room. He didn't find the club fire as exciting as everyone else. The memory still gave him a shudder.

  Robert found Simon waiting for him outside the hospital. The twin glass doors framed him as he stood propped against one of the pillars outside the entrance. Simon's dark eyes gazed up into the sky, his profile striking in the evening sun. The light creases of age around his eyes seemed a little deeper and the sharp planes of his face more grim in the dying sun.

  A man walked past him and flicked his cigarette away, striking Simon's leg.

  "Hey, that was rude!” Robert stepped out of the hospital.

  The man blinked with surprise and shook his head before walking into the hospital.

  Simon's eyes turned to him, and a small smile touched his lips. Robert's heart skipped just a bit under his gentle scrutiny. The way his eyes softened and the sadness in his face made a sweet tingle spread through his gut.

  "Bad day?” Robert asked.

  "A long one."

  "And you waited out here for me?"

  "I didn't have anything else to do at the moment.” He nodded toward the hospital. “Are you ill?"

  "Me? No. A friend was burned in the fire. I just brought her some magazines. Nothing serious."

  "That's good."

  They fell into step and started toward the parking lot.

  "So, tell me about yourself."

  Simon hesitated. “What would you like to know?"

  "Do you have any family?"

  He shook his head. “No. They're all dead. Long dead. What about you?"

  Robert frowned. “Maybe family wasn't the best subject to start on. My mother's dead, and let's just say Dad and I don't get along well."

  Simon smiled and changed the subject for them. “Where did you learn to dance?"

  "You liked my dancing?"

  "I like everything about you. You're unique beyond measure."

  Robert laughed. “Do lines like that work on most men?"

  Simon shrugged. “I've never made such a statement to anyone before."

  "Truth?"

  "I can't imagine lying to you."

  Robert cleared his throat as heat crept across his neck. “That's sweet."

  "No, just the truth."

  The manicured lawns of the hospital gave way to the sparse tree lined streets. Tiny leaves and fresh greenery gave life to the grim paved streets and block buildings.

  "So, if I asked you anything, you'd tell me the truth?"

  Simon stopped and studied him a long moment. “Yes."

  Robert started them back on the path toward his apartment. “How many lovers have you had?"

  "Recently? None. I was wi
th a man a very long time ago. It seems like forever ago."

  Robert waited and bit his lip expecting a similar question in return. He wasn't sure how he'd answer. His need to find someone steady was a recent urge. The empty apartment he had so loved felt more like an empty cell these days.

  "Would you like to do something? I don't have to work for awhile yet."

  The question surprised Robert. Did Simon really not care? All of his exes had asked. All had eventually gotten jealous of his work. All had asked him to stop. Simon seemed different.

  "You mean a date?"

  Simon smiled suddenly as if surprised with himself. “Yes."

  "Do you have something in mind?"

  "Yes, but you have to stay very close to me and not make a sound."

  Robert grinned at the mysterious request. “Lead the way."

  They chatted about simple things as they walked. The way Simon listened to him as if craving to hear every useless word that came from his lips thrilled him.

  Evening turned to dusk as they reached their destination. One of the best theaters in the city loomed in the distance. Simon moved close and led him around the back of the building. Junk littered the alley and Simon took his hand, pulling him closer as they stopped in front of the stage door.

  "Are you sure—"

  "Shh,” Simon said and reached for the door. The door opened under his touch and a security guard jumped out of his seat a few feet from the door as they stepped inside.

  Robert's heart leaped in his chest. Fear and excitement raced through his nerves. Simon's hand touched his lips and pulled Robert closer. The press of Simon's body molded around Robert's back and firm muscles hinted at a chiseled form beneath his nondescript clothes. The security guard stared past them a moment before shaking his head and sitting back down.

  Confused, Robert shot Simon a questioning look.

  His date's expression rippled with sad amusement, but he said nothing and moved them past the guard. The bustle of actors and stagehands that crowded the backstage area ignored them as Simon led him through the mob. Every time he tried to speak, Simon's hand came up to silence him. The wickedly mysterious smile that graced his features sent a thrill through Robert's stomach. God, he loved a mystery man.

  The heat of Simon's skin so close made him lightheaded. Robert swallowed hard and let Simon lead him back to a set of stairs leading high overhead. Lights and other equipment littered the long narrow catwalks and the steel grating beneath their feet rattled as they walked.

  Robert looked down at the stage and the mass of shrunken chairs. A stagehand fiddled with props behind the curtain. He gasped and squeezed his eyes shut as wave of dizziness struck. His heart jumped in his throat he grabbed Simon's arm. Everything looked so small from up here.

  "I won't let you fall,” Simon breathed in his ear. “I promise."

  A shudder ran down his spine, the heat of Simon's breath washing away fear. Strong arms led him through the maze of ropes and cords and lighting fixtures. He peered down through the metal grating of the catwalk, both excited and scared.

  "What if it falls?” Robert asked.

  "You don't believe that I could catch you before you fell?"

  Robert grinned. “You'd keep a catwalk from falling?"

  "If that's what it took."

  Robert studied him a long moment. Simon seemed so serious, as if he could do such a thing with ease. No trace of jest or teasing in his words.

  Simon motioned down the catwalk. “That is the best spot in the theater. We can watch the show here."

  "They won't mind?"

  "They won't know,” Simon said and led the way to a small portion of the catwalk just off the main path. “Here, sit down. The show will start soon."

  He let Simon lead him back to a spot at the end of the catwalk. Simon shrugged out of his jacket and laid it down on the steel mesh for them to sit.

  "What's playing?"

  "Les Miserables."

  The play was just beginning as Robert sat down, smashing something soft under his weight. He gasped and stood back up. “I think I crushed something."

  Reaching into the pocket, he pulled out the white rose he'd tossed to Simon at the club. The white petals showed no signs of wilting, and the scent was as fragrant as the night at the club. The idea that he had saved it despite the chaos of that night made a soft glow rush through him. “You kept it?"

  Simon studied him a long moment. “Why wouldn't I?"

  Robert smiled down at the rose, a glow growing in his chest. His breath quickened as he studied the man beside him. The warmth of his body so close was such a distraction. He tried to pull his attention back to the play, but the scent of the rose in his hand kept drawing him back to the man who'd kept it.

  A light touch on his shoulder caught his attention and Simon pulled him a bit closer as the light crew rushed around after the first act. Only a few feet from their perch, the crew went about their business, adjusting lights and tugging at ropes. Robert wondered if Simon knew them or if he had paid them for the bit of privacy and fantastic view. He could make out actors racing for new costumes and props being pushed into place behind the curtain. The bustle behind the curtain reminded him of weekend shows at the Cream Dream, as everyone tried to get ready for their turn in the spotlight.

  He wondered if he'd ever get more than a two-bit job as a professional dancer. He liked being on stage, he just wished it were something more than stripteases.

  "Your thoughts have gone dark,” Simon said.

  Robert pulled his eyes from the stage. “Just thinking."

  He swallowed hard as Simon leaned close, and their lips brushed in a light kiss. An electric wave washed over him. Simon's light musk lingered in the air as he pulled away. All dark thoughts evaporated and Simon's dark eyes glittered with pleasure.

  "I prefer that expression in your eyes."

  "And what expression is that?"

  "I'm not sure, but I find it pleasant."

  He forced his eyes back to the stage but Simon's steady breath only inches from his ear was too tempting a distraction. He wasn't sure what Simon had seen in his eyes earlier, but one look from him now would scream lust.

  "Do you like the play?” Simon asked.

  Robert looked back down at the rose in his hand and held it out to Simon. “I like the play just fine."

  Simon's hand wrapped around his, capturing Robert's hand and the rose. Robert felt his heart spike as a hot thrill surged through him. He turned, leaning into those lips. The passion that met him erased the play from his mind. His hands worked their way under Simon's shirt to feel the hard muscles beneath. He wanted to see, to feel, to explore.

  He bit back a moan as hands found their way under his shirt to tease his skin and pulled him closer. Their kiss grew deeper, more electrifying. The rasp of rough skin against his cheek and neck sent a tingle over his nerves. He reached for the skin under Simon's shirt. The hard muscles and the tickle of fine hair that crept down his stomach—he longed to see just where that trail led. His cock ached, pressing painfully against the front of his jeans. A hand pinched at his nipple and he shuddered, a deep ache growing inside him. He let his hand linger lower down the taut muscles of Simon's stomach and the bulge in his pants, the impressive shape of Simon's thick cock so enticing under the thin slacks.

  Lips found his again. Hands lingered over his skin and worked their way down in slow motion over his chest. Robert pressed into the touch, eager for Simon's hand to move lower until he could feel the heat of his hand through his jeans.

  Applause interrupted their moment, and Simon pulled away smiling. “You missed the ending."

  "I've seen it before,” Robert said.

  Simon looked back down on stage his eyes distant, his eyes on the lead actor. “Valjean dies in the end."

  "Yes, but his suffering is over."

  The sadness returned to Simon's face and Robert reached out and stroked his cheek. “Are you okay?"

  The emotion cleared from Simon'
s eyes and a small smile touched his lips again. “I'm much better when I'm around you. You're more special than you know."

  Robert grinned.

  "Come on. I'll walk you home."

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  Chapter Four

  They walked in silence through the night. The sounds of cars passing and laughter filled the air. Death took a deep breath to calm the nervous energy that filled him as they reached Robert's apartment. He had hopes for a kiss. The sweet memory of their kisses had left him hungry for more. Were there rules to such things?

  Thoughts of Reaper's warning crept into his head and he shook them away. He wanted a moment in time, just a moment. After such a long time, he should be allowed this one pleasure. Another kiss, another touch....

  Robert cleared his throat as he unlocked the door. Death swallowed hard and leaned in close for a kiss. Robert met him half way and their lips touched. Soft lips grew hungry and demanding. Death responded in kind, eager to take all Robert had to give.

  Death pressed him into the door, needing to taste him again. Their tongues tangled, the light hint of something sweet lured him deeper. A wondrous ache washed over him as Robert pulled away with a gasp.

  "Want to come in?"

  Death hesitated, suddenly worried if they would be interrupted. “I might have to go to work unexpectedly."

  "But not right now."

  Death smiled. “Not right now."

  Robert leaned up for another kiss. The hunger in those lips took Death's breath away. Robert pulled him inside and the door closed behind them.

  Uneasiness quaked in Death's gut as he watched Robert lock the door. Dim lights flooded the tiny apartment, shedding light on the bare surroundings.

  Robert bit his lip and motioned around the room. “It's not much to look at."

  "Very practical."

  "Boring and cheap, you mean."

  "No, you're far from boring. And I would never call you cheap. Never.” Death moved into the living room to get a better look around.

  Robert stepped close again. “Let me take your coat."