Reaping Havoc

by AJ Rose

  “Oh?”

  “A soul is someone a reaper has a full, healthy connection to. We have to be able to keep them near us through their final goodbyes until their doors arrive to take them to the next big adventure. A ghost is a soul that has had their connection with their reaper severed for some reason. Ghosts haunt the same places because it’s the only connection they have left. They re-forge the tie to somewhere meaningful to them, usually their home, where they feel safest or know they’ll stay with their loved ones. Tate’s one of the few in Divinity’s written history to attach to a person.”

  “Divinity?”

  Mitch laughed deprecatingly. “I’m just a cog in a wheel, man. Someone else calls the shots.”

  “So there is a God. And Heaven and Hell.”

  “As far as I know, yes.”

  “You don’t know for sure?”

  Mitch shrugged. Nate bent his knee so Mitch scooted closer and took his hand, needing the contact. “The doors are too bright for me to see what’s beyond them. Only the souls recognize what’s coming. I won’t know until it’s time for me to go through my own door.”

  “Wait. You’re not immortal?”

  “I will die when I’m three hundred years old.”

  Nate’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. When I turned twenty-four, I stopped aging. That’s why I tried to end things between us. Anyone I’m in a relationship with will age normally, and I won’t. I’ll look like this for the next two hundred and twenty-six years. At two hundred fifty, I’ll age normally.”

  “Nice.” Nate leered, waggling his brows.

  “Not so much when the man I fall for looks old enough to be my father… or grandfather, and I’ll eventually be witness to their death. I vowed not to fall for anyone until my aging period kicks in again, and I can have a normal lifespan with that person. But you fucked all that up.”

  “Me?” Nate said, surprised.

  “Yes. I couldn’t help it.” Mitch lowered his head so Nate wouldn’t misinterpret the miserable expression on his face. “It was either stay knowing we’d have this fucked-up life together, moving around every dozen years so people wouldn’t get suspicious when I didn’t change, keeping friends at arm’s length so they wouldn’t wonder when I had to leave for reaps at all hours of the day, regardless of plans. Or I could stop it before it got too hard to leave you.” To his embarrassment, his eyes filled with tears and he decided, fuck it. He should know how I feel about him. “You should take it as a compliment it was only two-and-a-half weeks before I realized I was in too deep.”

  Nate bit his lip, thinking. “But it was finding out Tate was my sister that sent you off. I don’t understand.”

  “When I met you, I thought she was a soul you’d reaped, who hadn’t gone through her door yet. I would never have let my guard down if it hadn’t been for that. I thought you were like me.”

  “So not only did she save my life, she made it so you’d give me a chance.”

  Mitch nodded, sniffing.

  “Shit. I’m going to owe her big time, and she’ll never let me forget it.” Above Nate, Tate crossed her arms and beamed smugly at them.

  Mitch couldn’t help his wobbly laugh. “You said she was your sister, and knowing reapers aren’t allowed to handle the passing of their own relatives, I ran. I’m sorry. Nate, I’m so sorry for putting us both through that.”

  “Hey,” Nate said, voice gentle as he used his good hand to pull Mitch closer, then trailed his fingers across Mitch’s cheekbone. “I’m not sorry. I may have tried to forget you, but I would have failed. You running just made me recognize how much you already meant to me. Given how alone I’d been feeling….” He swallowed, eyes sad. “I probably needed to back off so I didn’t get clingy and try to sub you in for the family I no longer have. I know how I feel about you is real and not just plugging the gaps in my life.”

  Mitch nodded. “You know most of it now.”

  “Most of it?” Nate’s expression went wary. “What’s the rest?”

  “You have a choice to make,” someone said from the door. A tall, curvy woman with long brown hair and warm, good-humored blue eyes strode into the room, shutting the door behind her. Mitch caught a glimpse of the officer posted in the hall as it closed and wondered why he hadn’t heard any warning of her arrival.

  “Are you here with my scan results?” Nate asked, uncertainty written on his entire body. They were still in the hospital only because the test results hadn’t been interpreted prior to clearing Nate’s discharge. He winced, tensing, and Mitch wondered how Nate sensed this wasn’t something normal.

  “No, Nate. I’m not affiliated with the hospital. My name is Katherine, and for lack of a better word, I’m Mitch’s boss.”

  “A visit in person,” Mitch said when he found his voice again. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  Katherine grinned at Nate. “He’s so polite! I love the polite ones. They’re so much fun to tease.” She winked at Mitch, coming to stand at the foot of the bed.

  “Mitch’s boss,” Nate repeated, narrowing his eyes. “So you’re from Divinity?”

  “I am,” she confirmed. “More specifically, I’m one of the angels in charge of overseeing the US reaper population. I run interference between the reapers and higher-ups when that pesky little thing called free will mucks up the plans.”

  Nate’s eyes widened comically to the size of saucers. “You’re an angel?”

  Katherine turned to the side and struck a pose. “What, don’t I look it?”

  Nate stammered. “I don’t know. I, um…. I would have expected someone… brighter.”

  She laughed. “Oh, I could walk around with a spotlight trained on me, but that would draw unneeded attention in a place such as this. I can only get away with that when I’m dithering in New York City near Broadway. It gets them every time.”

  Mitch cleared his throat. “You were saying about the choice?”

  Katherine sobered. “Yes. You see, Nate, we have laws concerning how much is known by humans about our intervention, and you knowing Mitch is a reaper without the laws having been observed puts all of us in a bit of a sticky situation. Divinity requires all humans aware of reapers be on the path to a lifetime union with one, thereby triggering our divine safeguards.”

  Nate stared at her, confusion plain in his eyes.

  “It sounds hokey or like witchcraft, but there’s a binding charm in place, holding a human’s tongue anytime they’re even kind of tempted to spill the beans on a reaper’s secret. Most humans in serious relationships with a reaper have no interest in endangering that relationship by spreading the truth, but we don’t like to take chances.”

  “So a human who knows would physically be unable to speak if they were about to talk?” Nate asked.

  “That’s right. But you’re not in a serious relationship with a reaper, are you, Nate?”

  Red spots bloomed on Nate’s cheeks as he looked at Mitch, causing Mitch’s heart to gallop. He searched Mitch’s face for a moment before defiance and sureness set his features.

  “I would say we are. We haven’t said as much out loud, but I think Mitch and I are on the same page.”

  Katherine clucked her tongue. “It’s the not-out-loud part we have a problem with. Divinity doesn’t like unspoken declarations. It’s kind of why we’re so big on prayer. It brings the honesty out in people.”

  “So we have to say it out loud?” Nate asked.

  Mitch looked for signs of hesitation or fear and only saw the quietest discomfort cross Nate’s gaze. He’s really thinking about this. But it wouldn’t serve Mitch to get ahead of himself, because Nate didn’t know what was required.

  “Not exactly.” Katherine’s words were spoken in a mild tone, as though to soften their blow. “Your choice is to make vows and pledge yourselves to each other in holy matrimony, or we will be required to remove the knowledge of Mitch’s existence from your memories, Nathan.”

  Nate’s jaw dropped, and Mitch cl
osed his eyes, not wanting to see if his hopes, his love, would be snuffed out like a flickering candle in a strong breeze.

  “We have to get married?”

  “Yes.”

  “But, but…,” Nate spluttered. “I thought the church was against gay marriage!”

  It was Katherine’s turn to harden her features. “The church may be against it, but God is not. He made all creatures in His image, and God does not make mistakes. He wouldn’t create a human attracted to someone of the same gender and then forbid that attraction. He is a loving God and does not wish to restrict any love between humans.”

  Nate fell silent, and above him, Tate watched the proceedings with undisguised fascination, her focus volleying back and forth between him and Mitch, watching their reactions.

  Mitch held his breath. Would Nate be the one to run this time? He had no idea if the rules on length of engagement were shortened or if they could agree to get married at some point and call it good.

  “What happens to the people who marry a reaper and end up divorcing them?”

  Mitch’s stomach plummeted. That was not an encouraging question.

  “Unless there are children involved, the human party has the memory of their relationship with a reaper removed. They are never aware of having been married at all.”

  “How do you get around the paperwork? I mean, there are court documents, mortgages, joint bank accounts.” Nate didn’t even question the ethics of such a thing, which had always made Mitch uncomfortable.

  “We have ways,” Katherine answered, “of making those things say what they must say. The reaper is transferred to another territory. Legalities such as home ownership and bank balances are compensated for in the move, and the ex-spouse ends up with everything material. Records are simply expunged.”

  Nate frowned. “So Mitch and I have to get married—”

  “An engagement will suffice, though not of longer duration than eighteen months,” the angel interrupted.

  “Or I lose all memory of having known him. And if it doesn’t work out, I still lose all memory of him.”

  “Yes.”

  Mitch made himself meet Nate’s eyes. What he saw there broke his heart.

  “Mitch,” Nate whispered. “I love you, but we can’t get married.”

  Mitch’s throat pinched, and it was a moment before he could speak. “I know we can’t, and if we rushed it, it would most certainly end badly. I don’t want to do that to you.”

  Nate’s chin quivered, and his eyes filled. “But I don’t want to be without you either. This is more than anything I’ve ever felt. Stronger than any high I’ve ever gotten in competition, bigger than any drive or passion I ever had while skiing or dating or anything.”

  “I know,” was all Mitch could say. He bowed his head as heavy silence descended in the room.

  “What do we do?” Nate finally asked, hoarse.

  Tightening his grip on Nate’s hand, Mitch shook his head, then looked at Katherine pleadingly. “There has to be something. I mean, come on! I never even asked to be a reaper. I only am one because some distant relative got in over his head with a demon. Why should I pay for his sins?”

  “Mitchell,” Katherine intoned softly. “I know how you feel.” He tried to protest but she didn’t let him speak. “I’ve known for a long time. I just didn’t think the situation would disintegrate so soon after you began your reapership. If you had more years behind you, I could plead your case to the higher ups and possibly get you a pardon. They don’t like making exceptions for someone who hasn’t yet paid their dues.”

  Mitch exploded off the bed. “Paid my dues?” he nearly shouted.

  The officer outside knocked on the door. “Everything okay in there?”

  “Yeah,” Nate hollered. “Just the TV.”

  Mitch lowered his volume, but not his intensity. “I have paid my dues since the day I was born, belonging to the Seeker family. I was the freak kid in school no one wanted as a friend. I swore I’d never love anyone because I wouldn’t survive losing them. Sure, I’d be alive, but I’d be a fucking mess. Nate’s the first real relationship in my life, and you’re telling me it’s not strong enough to warrant a special exception? I thought God didn’t want to stand between the love His children have for one another.”

  Katherine beamed at him, which was the opposite of his expectations.

  “That is exactly what I argued on your behalf.”

  A beat of silence passed. “You did?” He was stunned. She’d already gone to Divinity? “But you just said—”

  “I said I could have pled your case to the higher-ups for a pardon if you had served more time. I didn’t say I hadn’t pled your case at all. They’ve chosen not to grant you a full pardon.”

  He fell heavily to the bed, quickly apologizing to Nate when he hissed in pain. Nate waved him off.

  “What did they say?”

  “I’ve been authorized to offer a third choice if it was clear you would choose neither of the first two. There was very little leeway, but I think it has potential to be the best option of the three. I warn you, it carries a steep price.”

  “What is it?” Nate blurted.

  “You, Mitchell Seeker, will be given clemency from your reapership should both of you choose to be together. But your lives will be shortened to a period of five years from the moment you accept this choice.”

  Chapter 23

  Decisions, Decisions

  Dizziness washed over Mitch like a wave, threatening to pull him beneath emotion so confusing and powerful, he didn’t know if he’d ever come up for air.

  “Shortened?” Nate croaked. “As in dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “No,” Mitch immediately answered, setting his jaw. “I will not see Nate’s life shortened because of this. I will not accept anything less than a full, happy life for him, even if it means he doesn’t choose me.”

  “Whoa, don’t I get a say?” Nate demanded.

  “No, you don’t.” Mitch glared at him. “I will not pick your early death because I hate being a reaper. No. End of discussion.”

  “Not end of discussion,” Nate bit out. “This is my life, too, and I want a say. You’re not choosing to stop being a reaper; you’re choosing to stay with me. Getting out of being a reaper is a side effect. Don’t you dare pull the same shit on me my parents did this morning.” His glare was so intense, so piercing, Mitch’s breath caught.

  Is that what I’m doing?

  He didn’t want Nate to die because of him. Bile rose in his throat at the idea, and his head swam as thoughts hammered the inside of his skull like demented birds battering a glass window repeatedly. Nate had to stay safe. He had to live.

  We just don’t want to see anything happen to you. Kristen Koehn’s words echoed in his head as remnants of that conversation joined the birds, buffeting him with echoes of his own defense of Nate. We get zero do-overs. He will go to his grave someday with zero regrets.

  Someday couldn’t be only five years from now. He wouldn’t let it.

  But Nate was right. He was choosing for him, just as Nate’s parents had. Mitch dropped his head back, staring at the ceiling. Movement caught his eye, and he turned to Tate, who was gesturing wildly, angrily.

  She pounded her chest over her heart, pointed at Nate, then Mitch, mimed them kissing each other, and then jabbed a finger into Nate’s head. He flinched but otherwise continued aiming his death stare at Mitch. Tate repeated the actions over and over, until Nate finally let go of Mitch’s hand to swat the air above him.

  “Knock it off, Tate,” he barked. “What’s she saying?”

  Katherine surprised them by answering. “She’s telling Mitch to let you decide, that you’re smart enough to think it through, and she knows you love him.”

  “She’s right.” Nate was resolute. “The decision is mine as much as it is yours. If the only consideration you have is the length of my life, that’s not fair to me. I moved here after her death to live, Mitch. Knowing the r
isks. She died on the slopes. I’ve always been ready to do the same. I almost did yesterday. It’s not just skiing I’m willing to risk things for. It’s happiness. If almost dying doesn’t put things into perspective, nothing ever will.”

  “Oh, so you’ll die for me but not marry me?” Mitch asked, the words bitter.

  That stopped Nate short. He considered for a long moment, then said simply, “Yes. You know why I won’t marry you now?”

  “Why?” Mitch hated the pleading in his voice.

  “Because we’ll survive it. We’ll be happy until I start to look disproportionately older than you, and then you’ll be counting down to the end in your head. Counting the days until I’m gone, and you’ll be alone with nothing but memories. But at least you’d have them. What about me? Watching you agonize when I get gray hair, when wrinkles show up, when I need dentures. What kind of life is that for me, knowing I am torturing you with my mortality?” Nate squeezed Mitch’s hand to the point of pain. “This way, we get married in our own time, on our own terms, live blissfully for the time we’re given, and go together.” He turned to Katherine. “We’d die together, right?”

  She pursed her lips. “I didn’t make that request, but I could probably arrange it.”

  Nate turned pleading eyes to Mitch. “Neither of us would end up alone, babe. Neither of us has to forget the other or watch the other go. So it’s only five years. I would rather have five years with us as equals than a lifetime with no memory of you, or you watching me get old only to leave you behind.”

  Equals.

  The word clanged around in Mitch’s head, quieting the birds and echoes so he could think again.

  No reaps. No canceled plans. No whispers behind my back because I’ve been seen around another fatality. No lying about why I don’t age. No running from it.

  A zipper opened in his chest, letting a breath of fresh air fill his lungs for the first time in his memory. It was so clean, so promising, he was nearly overwhelmed by how free the hope of it made him feel. No more reapership.

  But the price. The price was so high.