Reaping Havoc

by AJ Rose

Nate’s life for my freedom.

  As if reading his mind, Nate grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close, pressing his forehead into Mitch’s cheek. “Love me enough to be with me, happily, on our terms, for five years, Mitch. This is your way out. Let me do this for you. Let’s do this for each other.”

  “What happens if we get married in those five years?” Mitch asked Katherine.

  “The choice you make today stands.”

  “Zero do-overs,” Nate whispered, kissing him. “Zero regrets.”

  Mitch closed his eyes, and a tear tracked down his cheek. “Can we let you know tomorrow?” He spoke to Katherine but didn’t look at her, too afraid breaking his contact with Nate would sever the intensity of the moment between them.

  “I can give you twenty-four hours,” was her reply.

  “Okay,” he croaked, burying his face in Nate’s neck.

  “Nate, one more thing.” Katherine’s tone was soft, almost sad.

  Nate tensed beneath him, and then hissed at the pain the muscle contractions must have caused in his ribs.

  “Yes?”

  “Your sister is linked to you because of the strength of your relationship when she was alive. She chose to stay with you, and that choice has consequences.”

  Nate pushed against Mitch until he could see the angel. “What consequences?”

  “Her door.”

  “What about it?”

  “She has made herself a beacon to us. To all of us.” Foreboding crawled all over Mitch like spiders dancing on his skin. “Her soul force is so strong, she was able to alter her afterlife at will. She has come to the attention of both Heaven and Hell.”

  Mitch went cold. “What do you mean?”

  “The battle for her soul, when the time comes, will be fierce.”

  Nate’s eyes widened in terror. “What does that mean, battle for her soul?”

  Mitch glanced up at Tate, who seemed almost green with fear.

  “My dad told me a little about it,” Mitch started, choosing his words carefully. “When a soul passes through their door, Heaven and Hell wage a contest for where the soul belongs. I know nothing of the details, but for reapers, we absorb a little of each soul we help cross over. When we die, the battle is said to be epic, because we have more power in our soul than normal humans.”

  “Correct,” Katherine said. “Tate’s apparently got a different sort of power. We’ve seen it a handful of times in the past, but the demons don’t usually know the importance of those battles until they’ve won or lost. This time, they know.”

  “O… kay.” Nate drew the word out.

  “In other words, her contest will be as difficult as it is for a reaper because the demons know what they’re fighting for.”

  “That’s not good,” Nate whispered.

  Tate’s edges shuddered, and Mitch gave her a sympathetic look.

  “The longer she’s here, the better prepared the demons will be, and the harder the angels will have to fight to win.”

  “So she needs to go soon.”

  “Yes,” Katherine confirmed, determination crossing her features. “I believe if she’s seen to her door by Mitch, his strong feelings for her as the sister of the man he loves will help fortify her power to be able to make the right choice and avoid a demon win.”

  “But if she knows it’s coming, she can choose Heaven and be done with it, right?”

  “It’s not that simple. Angels are bound to tell the truth, but we are not allowed to show the soul which choice leads to Heaven and which to Hell. Demons are not bound to the truth, so what they promise during the contest is what the soul wants to hear, but not what will happen to them in Hell. The demons know this and give the soul a choice that looks like the path to Heaven, so the soul is faced with two options where both paths seem righteous. Only after they pick do they learn their fate.”

  “How is that fair?”

  Katherine’s smile was deprecating. “It’s not.”

  “But I thought reapers aren’t supposed to help those we know to their destination?” Mitch asked.

  “Tate is one of only five souls who has ever chosen to stay with a twin, defying their connection to a reaper.” So Mitch’s dad hadn’t found them all when he studied Tate’s circumstances. “There’s not a lot of precedent to go on here,” Katherine intoned, looking grim. “We need every advantage in our arsenal to help her through. In this case, an exception has been made for you to see her through.”

  “Within the next twenty-four hours,” Nate said.

  Katherine nodded. “If you choose option three, the five year plan, Mitch will no longer be a reaper, and Tate’s chances become that much weaker.”

  “Can you bring her door to her?” Mitch asked.

  “I can. It’s not common, but I can influence it in her case. The sooner the better. But Tate has to be ready to leave, or all the influence I possess won’t bring her door. Her unfinished business has to be truly completed.”

  Mitch looked at Tate, whose head was lowered, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

  “So we do it quickly,” Nate said, oblivious. “She can say goodbye to me, and Mitch can help her through, and her soul has the best possible chance. Then he and I make our choice.”

  Katherine was watching Tate with a melancholy expression. “Theoretically.”

  “Why theoretically?”

  “She has to want to say goodbye and allow herself to be disconnected from you. We can’t force her.”

  Tate gazed at her brother, misery etched in every line of her being.

  “She has heard the entirety of our conversation, Nathan,” Katherine said gently. “I don’t believe she will agree to anything until she knows you’ll be happy. So you have twenty-four hours, but I would advise you to make the decision as soon as possible, so she can make hers.”

  “Or she runs the risk of spending eternity in Hell,” Nate said, his eyes wet.

  “Yes. I’m sorry.” Katherine stepped back from the bed. “Mitch, you know how to reach me.”

  And with those words, she was gone, a single silver feather seesawing through the air to the floor the only evidence of her presence.

  Chapter 24

  Zero Do-Overs, Zero Regrets

  “You okay? Can I get you anything?” Mitch asked as they entered Nate’s apartment.

  “I’m fine. I want to talk to Tate,” Nate answered, shuffling to the couch and sitting gingerly. Wiggling slightly to find a comfortable position, he couldn’t manage it and looked at Mitch sheepishly. “Maybe a pillow to prop myself on?”

  “Coming right up.”

  Mitch had been overly solicitous since Katherine had poofed, and shortly after that, the neurologist had come to tell Nate his brain scan showed no anomaly, so he was being discharged. The slow wheels of hospital paperwork had kept them for a few more hours, until night had fallen. They’d stopped for food on the way home, but neither of them was very hungry.

  Returning with two pillows from Nate’s bed, Mitch stacked them behind Nate and hovered, wringing his hands.

  “Sit down. You’re making me nervous.”

  Mitch barked a laugh. “Finding out your boyfriend is a reaper, having a conversation with an angel about getting married, mind-wiped, or dying in five years didn’t make you nervous, but me standing over you does?”

  Nate swallowed. “No, those things terrified me. I don’t need any more stress. Sit.”

  “Okay,” Mitch said gently. Without Nate having to ask, he opened the laptop and booted it, bringing up a blank Word document.

  “Tate?”

  Yes?

  “Are you okay?” Nate had many things to ask, but he didn’t know where to start.

  Yes. No. I don’t know.

  “What do you want me to do?” When it all came down to it, that was the crux of the entire situation. He had to make a choice that affected all three of them, and while it wasn’t only his to make, the burden rested with him. He held his sister’s fate, the length of his life and
Mitch’s, and his boyfriend’s reaper status in his hands.

  I want you to be happy. I want you to live a long life. I want you to be in love.

  “I can’t promise the long life, but I am happy, and I am in love,” he said, a soft smile spreading over his lips. He took Mitch’s hand in his good one and squeezed. “Pros and cons. Go.”

  You get married, and you’re happy for a while, but over time, that gets harder for both of you. You don’t get married and you lose all awareness of Mitch. No pro on that one. You don’t get married, Mitch doesn’t have to be a reaper anymore if he doesn’t want to, you both live happily ever after for five years, and you die far too young.

  Mitch sighed and rubbed his face. “That about sums it up.”

  “If it’s simply a numbers game, door #3 wins. Two pros and one con.”

  “This isn’t a numbers game, Nate,” Mitch warned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  Nate focused on him. “You okay?”

  “Headache.”

  Nate smirked. “Well, you did cave your head in yesterday.” Mitch snapped his gaze to Nate’s face. “I know what I saw. You were going to die, and suddenly, you were fine and pulling me out of my snowy grave. Care to explain that?”

  “Right now?” Mitch looked impatient.

  “Cliffs Notes version.”

  “I can’t get sick. I can get hurt, but I heal in minutes.”

  “So how badly were you hurt after you hit that tree?”

  “I don’t know,” Mitch admitted. “I was unconscious for most of it. I know I was paralyzed. Lost all feeling and control in my legs before I hit the tree.”

  Nate loosed a low whistle. “Wow, so no devastating injuries for you to slowly claw through recovery from, huh? That’s kind of cool.” He paused. “Sure you hate being a reaper so much you’d give that up?”

  “How do you know I hate being a reaper so much?”

  Nate leveled him with a look that said he wasn’t stupid. “You vowed a life alone because of it. You were so skittish of new people when I met you that you thought I wanted you out of pity or charity. People don’t get that down on themselves without hating the reason for it.”

  Mitch bowed his head. “It’s true. I hate it.” When he raised his gaze, his eyes were glazed with moisture. “But I don’t want you deciding something like this because you think you’re doing me a favor. I want nothing more than what Tate wants.” He gestured to the screen. “For you to be happy.”

  Nate put his palm to Mitch’s cheek. “You make me happy.”

  The computer’s keys clacked, getting their attention. That’s door #2 crossed off the list.

  “Yeah,” Mitch marveled. “I guess it is.” The smile he gifted Nate melted his heart.

  “So we’re comparing marriage to five years.” Nate swallowed. “What I said earlier stands. I want to grow old with you, not in front of you.”

  Mitch’s lips thinned. “But you won’t grow old at all if we pick the five-year plan.”

  Nate grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “But what a five years we can have, huh? I have some money saved. We can pick up odd jobs here and there and travel the world. We can have a bucket list and cross everything off it. And we go out in a blaze of glory together.”

  Adrenaline junkie.

  “Don’t make light of this,” Mitch scoffed at them both.

  We’re not. Listen to him.

  “Thank you, boss,” Nate muttered.

  “If we get engaged, we can stretch it out for a year and a half. In that time, we might be ready for it by then,” Mitch tried.

  “But then there’s Tate. She knows I don’t want to do that to you,” Nate predicted.

  Bingo.

  “You want your brother to die?” Mitch snapped at the screen.

  Of course not. I want him to do what’s right for you both, even if it means he dies sooner rather than later.

  “Look,” Nate said. “Katherine didn’t say if we pick option one, I’ll get ninety years. I could be hit by a falling toilet seat from a Russian space station in three weeks. My last words could be, ‘Ah, shit!’ Then where are we?”

  Mitch stared at him, unmoved. “Really? A reaper joke from a TV show when we’re talking about you dying before you turn thirty?”

  “I’m just pointing out I’m not guaranteed to live as long as you seem to think I deserve. Look what happened yesterday,” he finished quietly.

  “You think you can’t still get hit by a toilet seat in three weeks if we go with the five-year deal?” Mitch countered.

  “She said she could make it so we die together. If I get obliterated by a flying throne, so would you. Going together sounds good to me.”

  You guys are so cute together.

  “Shut up,” Nate grumbled. “We are not cute.”

  Yes you are.

  “Tate, what’s the option you’d be most comfortable with?”

  Nate recognized him changing tactics. If anyone would sway Nate one way or the other, it was his sister. But he wouldn’t let Mitch do that to her. He exploded as much as his battered body would allow, flailing the arm not plastered in a sling.

  “Do you think I want to live knowing I’ll leave you eventually? Do you think I want to go through my whole life knowing after I die, you’ll go back to the life of a monk because being alone doesn’t hurt as bad as losing someone you love? I have lost people I love. I wasn’t lying when I told my parents losing Tate felt like chopping off a limb. My family is gone, Mitch, and yeah, they chose it and are still out there somewhere, walking and breathing, but they’re also dead to me now. I got lucky getting a few extra weeks with Tate, but her death punched a hole in me blacker than any you can imagine. And I’m sorry, Tate, but that’s nothing compared to what I’m afraid losing Mitch will feel like. Alone sucks.” He clamped his hand to the side of Mitch’s neck, forcing him to look him in the face, misty eyes and all. “Do you think I want to do that to you?”

  “That’s a risk in every relationship.”

  “Don’t you get it?” he shouted, immediately regretting it, doubling over, clutching at his broken ribs. “We have a chance at normal! Yeah, shortened, but normal.” His words were strained but no less vehement.

  You tell him, bro.

  Mitch rubbed his back soothingly. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

  “Fuck off.” Nate laughed viciously. “You know what pain is? Evidence I have fucking lived. You’re too afraid of the pain to even try it.” Struggling to his feet, he stalked into the kitchen to get a glass of water and take another narcotic, the last one clearly having worn off. When he returned, Tate was typing.

  Stop it, Nate. Mitch knows death, okay? He sees it far more than any of us ever do. He knows how it rips people apart. Don’t blame him if he wants to protect you from that. I can attest to the fact that death fucking sucks.

  “You’re defending him now?”

  No, just stopping you from being an asshole.

  Nate sat once more, his knee touching Mitch’s. A lump formed in his throat, and he had to swallow to be able to use his voice again. He didn’t even try to stop the tears that slipped down his face.

  “That’s just it, Mitch.” Chin trembling, he took a deep breath, seeking a way to make the man he loved understand. “You can’t protect me from death. The one thing everyone has in common when they’re born is that they will die. Even you.”

  Mitch said nothing, simply brushed his thumbs through Nate’s tears, wiping them away.

  “The five years we have together can be normal,” he pleaded, no longer caring he’d descended to begging. “They can be worth more than five decades if you just let them be. I don’t want to hurt you. Zero do-overs, zero regrets.”

  Mitch’s mouth turned up. “You’re going to use that line on me the rest of your life, aren’t you?”

  Nate laughed through brimming emotions. “It’s a good line.”

  You said yourself, Mitch, you don’t know what lies beyond our doors. Yeah, there’s that battle thing
, but maybe there’s such a thing as reincarnation. Maybe you’ll both have something better than this life over there, and you won’t have to wait for the other to get there to do it. God doesn’t stand in the way of that kind of love.

  “Oh my God, both of you stop,” Mitch groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Okay,” he agreed, voice muffled. “Okay. Five years. Even though I hate it.”

  Atta boy.

  “I can’t believe you’re glad I’m killing your brother in his twenties,” Mitch grumbled.

  You’re not killing him. This isn’t your fault, Mitch.

  “No?” he asked bitterly. “He’s in this position because of me. Because of what I am.”

  And you’re in a position to help me. Do you think he’d be anything but grateful for that?

  Mitch dipped his head in concession.

  A shiver stole over Nate, leeching out what little warmth he’d managed to get back into his body. “Are you scared?” he asked the screen.

  Yeah, Tate answered after a long pause. Any advice, Mitch? You know these Divinity people better than anyone.

  He shook his head, sad. “I don’t know anything helpful, Tate. I’m sorry.”

  Well!

  Nate almost felt her taking a deep breath, if ghosts even mimicked breathing. He knew so little about it, and questions surfaced at light speed, but time was suddenly very short. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready for another goodbye.

  It is what it is, nerd.

  “I know, dork,” he said, his chest full of all the words he’d wanted to say but didn’t get to when she died.

  Are you happy? Are you in love?

  “Yes,” he whispered. He reached out to caress the computer screen, the closest he could get to touching her.

  Dude. You’re punching your hand through my boobs. Back off.

  He tried to smile but it just wasn’t in him. “I’m not ready to let you go.”

  Yeah you are, Nathan. I can’t hang around and watch you bang each other for another five years. I love you like air, but I have my limits.

  “Stop trying to make me laugh.” His eyes were so swollen, his nose stinging with a fresh wave of tears, and if he never cried again, it would be too soon.