Rose Reborn (Death's Contract Book 1)

by KJ Harlow

  Gun shots echoed all around me as I fought to keep my breathing under control. A horrible thought crossed my mind: I might have to shoot Stan. Would I be able to do it? My stomach turned as I watched them turn into a dead-end.

  Tor skidded to a halt and cursed. He pulled out his Lucent Gun and faced Stan. Stan slowly advanced on Tor, his gun pointing at him.

  “You took away Rose,” Stan said, edging towards the Deliverer. “Why did you shoot her?”

  I silently stepped out into full view behind Stan. I had drawn my Lucent Gun, pointing it at the newest Tormented. Tor’s eyes flickered in acknowledgment as we exchanged looks. His eyes went back to Stan.

  “She meant you no harm. She was just trying to come home to me,” Stan continued. “I had something important to tell her.” I stopped breathing. Was he going to tell us what he was so tormented about? I couldn’t shoot. I had to find out.

  “Have you ever felt like you were born into the wrong life?” Stan said. “But that no matter how hard you try, you can’t escape the reality of what you feel?” Born into the wrong life? What was he talking about? I barely had time to think about the answers when Tor fired his Lucent Gun.

  Stan spun out of the way and knocked me off balance, my gun clattering on the ground. I stood frozen. In less than a second, I felt it again: the barrel of a gun being pressed against my temple. Mortimer’s arm closed around me.

  “I believe they call this déjà vu,” Mortimer said triumphantly. Stan and Tor had their guns pointed at Mortimer and me.

  “Take the shot, Stan. Finish her,” Stan’s gun seemed to deviate between me and Mortimer. I closed my eyes as the ringing in my ears began anew. There were two gunshots. I opened my eyes and Mortimer slumped to the ground. Stan was on the ground too. Tor lowered his gun.

  “Rose! Are you OK?” Greg ran over to me.

  “Why are you–”

  “Mortimer was coming after me, I led him this way. I guess he got distracted when he saw you lot all standing there,” he said with a crooked grin that faded as quickly as it came. “Come on. Now’s our chance to retreat!”

  Tor, Greg and I ran back out to the main road. The work site was just ahead of us. Agatha was with the rest of the group. They waved at us frantically.

  “Come on!” Agatha yelled through the Light Bug. We Rid a few errant Conflicted that tried to get in our way. Dust puffed up as I entered the gate. We were all back together.

  There was a gunshot from behind us. I spun wildly just in time to see Tor and Greg enter the site. Tor also looked back, gun in hand. Greg didn’t look back. He crashed heavily to his knees, his face landing in the dirt. There was a gaping hole in the back of his head. Stan stood behind him, Ombre Gun smoking.

  “Damn, got in the way,” he grumbled. He barely had time to aim for Tor when five Deliverers rained their wrath upon him.

  “No!” Tracy cried, running towards Greg. She fell to the dirt, cradling Greg’s head as it wept blood all over her arm. I stared down at Greg’s lifeless body, numb with shock. Walter placed his hand on my shoulder.

  “Come. Let’s go back.” He said his voice low. He got down on one knee and took out Greg’s Lucent Gun from its holster. He wrapped Greg’s fingers around the grip, placing his rigid thumb on the reload. Looking around the group sombrely, he pressed it. Tracy’s anguish screams tore into my heart as we returned to the Underworld.

  Nineteen

  I wished that the rushing sound of being transported back to the Underworld could have screamed into my ears forever. That was better than arriving back in Death’s office and hearing Tracy’s agonized cries as she sobbed into Greg’s chest.

  As I landed, I looked around wildly to see where Tracy was. She was on her knees, her back turned to me. Greg’s legs lay unmoving as I stumbled towards them. I could see the other Deliverers appearing around me and moving towards her. My eyes were starting to blur but I could make out a tall figure with auburn hair standing solemnly by the fireplace, looking down at Tracy and Greg. Death didn’t look at me as I came around and collapsed next to Tracy on the floor.

  He held his Lucent Gun to his chest weakly. It rose and fell as his breaths became labored. I placed a trembling hand on Greg’s. He couldn’t leave; I wouldn’t let him leave. As if hearing my thoughts, his eyes fluttered open. He looked up just as Tracy’s tears fell, dotting his forehead. She raked a hand through his hair, rubbing away the tears in the process. Slowly, his gaze turned to me.

  “Rose…” he said. Just saying that seemed to rack his body with pain. I shook my head.

  “You did… so well…” He croaked as he coughed. Tracy’s sobbing had subsided. She laid a finger on his lips.

  “Sssh,” she whispered looking tenderly into his face. I noticed that there was no more blood. His hair was tousled but not drenched in crimson. Tracy’s slender fingers were unmarked as she continued to cradle his head.

  A faint, white light had appeared on the surface of Greg’s body. It radiated gentle warmth beneath my fingers as it enveloped his hand. I looked up. Tor, Agatha, Silas and Walter were circling us. They gazed down sombrely at Greg as the light seemed to gradually turn opaque.

  “He’s Ceasing,” Agatha said quietly. I looked to my left where Death stood.

  “There’s got to be something we can do,” I said desperately. “You’re an angel. Isn’t there someone you can talk to?” Something seemed to flicker in Death’s expression. Maybe it was just the light of the fireplace playing tricks on me. I watched the reflection of the flames dance wildly in his glassy eyes as he stared down at Greg. His eyes refocused as he looked at me with a hard expression on his face.

  “No.” Without another word, he opened the door to the control room and slipped out.

  “Rose…”

  My head spun back to look at Greg. His eyes were shining.

  “Stop Stan… I know you can.” He weakly smiled his lop-sided smile. I laughed sadly, scrubbing away the tears in my eyes. Even as he was about to go for good he couldn’t resist another cheesy joke.

  “Tor…” He said. He tried to clear his throat only to cough violently again.

  Tor stared down distantly at the Deliverer that was slowly getting encased in light.

  “Sorry for being… such a pest,” he managed a weak smile before it faded. “Be careful with Matylda.”

  That took Tor off guard. A complex stream of emotions played over his guarded face before he fitted the mask back on. He crossed his arms and nodded curtly. Greg’s tired eyes swiveled to Agatha. She crouched down.

  “Don’t say anything,” she said gravely. Greg’s breathing quickened slightly as he looked into Agatha’s eyes.

  “Finish off Mort,” he croaked, a hard edge lining his voice. Agatha stood up abruptly, taken aback. She opened her mouth to say something then closed it without letting the words escape. She looked down at Greg and like Tor resolved herself to a nod, eyes dark and impenetrable.

  By this time he was almost completely encased in light. It was as bright as the light I saw when I was transported back to the Overworld. Was he being taken somewhere?

  “Tracy,” he smiled. His voice seemed stronger when he said her name. The light surrounding him accentuated the warmth that radiated from his face as he looked at her. She smiled back down at him.

  “Sorry I almost groped you that time,” he sighed apologetically. Tracy laughed her tinkling laugh and for a second, it seemed like everything was normal. “I wish I could have met you when I was alive.” he said. The light enveloped Greg completely. Tracy’s smile cracked as she searched the place where Greg’s face was.

  “Greg?” She whispered, her voice breaking. There was a blinding flash and Tracy was left cradling the air that Greg’s body had inhabited a second ago. His Lucent Gun landed silently on the maroon carpet. The fireplace crackled as seven Deliverers became six.

  Tracy reached down and placed her hand on Greg’s gun. She closed her fingers around the grip and placed it in her lap. It looked like any old hand
gun; devoid of magic that allowed it slay conflicted souls.

  Agatha crouched down again next to Tracy.

  “Tracy dear–”

  “I’m OK.” She said steadily. She cradled the weapon with both hands and slowly got to her feet. I watched her as she opened the gnarled, wooden door and slipped out, not looking back at us. I stared into the fireplace. Walter stepped around the group until he was to my left. I felt his hand on my shoulder.

  “Rose,” he murmured. I didn’t acknowledge him. “You’ve been through a lot today. You should go back to your room to have a rest.” I turned to him, my eyes shimmering with tears.

  “Why don’t we know where he’ll go?” Walter’s eyes immediately softened.

  “We just don’t know. It’s a place that not even Death knows about.” I pivoted to face Walter. His hand slid off my shoulder and dropped to his side.

  “We need to find out where he’s going,” I said urgently. “Maybe we can bring him back.” Agatha sat down and in front of the fire and crossed her legs. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Her wrinkles seemed to deepen in the light of the fire.

  “No one knows where he’s gone,” she stated her eyes still closed. “We call it Ceasing because he literally ceases to exist.” I stood up abruptly. My eyes met Silas’. He looked sorry for me. Had he witnessed a Deliverer ceasing before? My eyes flicked over to Tor. His unreadable face relaxed when I looked at him. He looked down at the space Greg had laid in moments before, eyes bright. Was it possible that he came to care for him?

  “I’m going to find Death,” I said resolutely, making a beeline heading towards the door. I was halfway out when Agatha spoke.

  “We’ve tried before. We can’t bring people back,” I paused and closed the door behind me firmly.

  The workers in the control room avoided my gaze as I weaved through them making a bee line towards the meeting room. I placed my hand on the glass and blinked as it disappeared. There was no one inside. My eyes hovered over where Greg used to sit. I turned around and scanned the control room. Death definitely wasn’t in here. I strode over the glass door that led down to the resting quarters and placed my hand on it. As soon as the glass disappeared, I hurriedly walked down the steps.

  I did a double take when I passed by The Room. I placed my hand on the knob and pushed down. It was locked from the inside. I pressed my ear against the worn wood of the door and listened. Nothing. Was Death in there?

  Wait what was that? I pulled away from the door of The Room and looked down the hall. I could hear muffled sobs coming from the sleeping quarters. That sounded like Tracy. I looked back at the locked door. It would have to wait. I walked through to the central room and stopped. All of the rooms were dark except one. I quietly stepped towards it and knocked on the door. The sobbing stopped.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” Tracy said in a falsely bright voice.

  “Trace, it’s me,” I said, resting my forehead against the door. There was shuffling. I stepped away from the door when I saw the knob being turned. The door squeaked open. Tracy’s eyes were red and swollen. Seeing me, she opened the door completely and wrapped her hands around me, burying her face in my shoulder.

  I was momentarily overwhelmed by this. I was no one’s shoulder to cry on when I was alive. I never even cried when I was with Stan. Thinking about him suddenly made me feel overcome with grief. I couldn’t forget his face when he shot Greg. It was his face but it wasn’t him.

  Stan is gone. The being you are lying on isn’t Stan. He is a Tormented, our sworn enemy.

  I banished Agatha’s voice from my mind and stood up straight. I wrapped my arms around my friend and rocked her gently. We stood there for a minute, grieving for each other’s loss.

  “He’s gone,” Tracy mumbled into my shoulder.

  “Yeah, he is,” I replied. Tracy looked at me, eyes shimmering with sadness.

  “I’m sorry, Rose. I shouldn’t be like this,” she wiped her eyes and blinked a few times. “Come in.” She took my hand and let me back to her bed. Greg’s Lucent Gun laid gray and dormant on the table.

  “It’s almost like without his soul, his gun is dead,” I said, staring at his firearm.

  “The Lucent Gun is an extension of us,” Tracy said, her voice wavering. She swallowed and continued. “We look and feel alive right now, but we’re not. We’re our barest essence. It just goes to show how much of what we leave behind on earth is unnecessary for life.”

  Her eyes fell on the firearm. She smiled at it fondly, eyes glazing over. “We met in the control room. I was discussing something with Agatha when Death brought him in.” She laughed wistfully. “He came in all wide-eyed like a lost puppy that had been brought into a new home.” I smiled as I imagined the scene.

  “He came up to me, looked me up and down and do you know what he said?” I shook my head. “‘How you doin’?’ Like Joey from ‘Friends’! He had me from that point,” I laughed out loud. Trust him to use a line that pathetic and pull it off.

  “It was fun having him around, you know? We have such a tough job down here, trying to stop the Tormented from taking over the world that we forget to laugh. I never laughed much while I was alive.” Tracy’s said as her face fell.

  I weaved my fingers through Tracy’s. She looked up at me and gave me an appreciative smile. “We still don’t know, do we? We don’t know why Dante’s turning people into Tormented.” Tracy shook her head. “All that we know is that he wants power. He could just be a power hungry maniac.” I absent-mindedly drew a circle over and over on the bed with my other hand.

  “I don’t know. Something tells me that he’s… preparing for something. Like a war,” I shivered as I said this. The events from earlier in the evening replayed in my mind. Being chased by endless Conflicted wasn’t something that I considered fun.

  “Maybe. Hopefully one day we’ll find out why he’s doing it and put an end to it.” Tracy sighed.

  “Have you guys tried finding out more about his past?” I asked.

  “Yes, but everything we find always comes up to dead ends. It’s like someone knows that we’re looking for information and they keep us going around in circles.”

  “It could be Dante himself. He knows that his power lies in his torment. If he were to find out what caused it, his power would disappear, right?”

  “Yes, but that’s why he’s got Mortimer, Matylda and…” Tracy’s voice trailed off, realizing her mistake. “Their torment supplies him with power. That means he can go off and do whatever he does.”

  “He went somewhere, didn’t he? That’s what Death said. We could have only tried rescuing Stan because he wasn’t there. Where did he go?” Tracy shrugged. We looked up when we heard a knock at the door.

  “It’s Walter,” he paused. “Death’s ready.” Tracy looked at Greg’s gun on the table. She tensed up momentarily then relaxed.

  “Alright.” She got up off her bed, walked to the table and picked up the gun. She held it with her right hand and ran a finger across the barrel. She took her Lucent Gun out of the holster and put Greg’s one inside. She looked at me and beckoned me to join her. I got up and together we left her room.

  Walter had led us back to The Room. When he pushed open the door, I gasped. If I thought that the Grand Canyon was amazing, The Room was now breathtaking.

  The floor was tiled in what looked like immaculate, ivory marble. They paved a path towards a landing with a pedestal in the middle of it. The rest of the Deliverers were standing in a semi-circle around the edge of the landing around the pedestal looking at us. Death stood immediately in front of the pedestal. Tracy solemnly walked in. Walter closed the door after me as I slowly stepped on the tiles. Ornately carved rails fenced us in on either side of a path that was about ten feet wide. They also looked like they were made from the pure, white stone.

  But it wasn’t the stonework that took my breath away. Everywhere I looked it seemed like we were surrounded by a never ending darkness speckled wit
h smatterings of stars. As far as I knew, we were on a tiled platform flying through space.

  We walked up a few steps and joined the rest of the Deliverers on the landing. Tor stood beside me. I could sense him looking in my direction surreptitiously. Was he checking to see if I was OK? We both turned our attention back to the Death. Until this point, Death’s eyes were closed. Sensing that everyone was here, he opened his eyes and looked around the semicircle.

  We’re here today to farewell Deliverer Greg Mills,” Death announced. “He fell retreating in combat, struck by the Tormented, Stan Butcher.” My hands balled into fists. Tracy looked down and grabbed one of my wrists. I looked at her and relaxed my hands.

  “He has already been Ceased but he has left a remnant of his soul with us.” He turned to Tracy and stepped towards her. Tracy looked up at Death, her sad eyes meeting with his. Without saying a word, he reached out an open hand in front of Tracy. I looked at his hand and followed his arm up to his face. Quickly, I looked back down to my feet.

  I felt like I saw something I shouldn’t have seen, yet I was thankful that I’d seen it. On his face, I could see the reflections of countless souls that he had come across. Right at this moment though, only one soul mattered to him: Tracy. In the fleeting moment I looked into his eyes, I saw compassion that transcended mere mortals. He truly, deeply cared for Tracy’s loss. My whole being ached for his burden to feel so much pain. To me, he was more angel than Death.

  A single tear trickled out of Tracy’s eye and rolled down her chin. She smiled through her sadness and pain and nodded. She wordlessly reached into her holster and drew Greg’s gun. It rested flat in her hands as she bowed her head, offering it to Death. Death’s large hands delicately claimed the dormant weapon as if it were made of the finest glass.

  He stepped back towards the pedestal. Ever so gently, he placed the dormant Lucent Gun on top before taking a step away. He then raised his open hands to chest level, turning them skyward. He looked up and took a deep breath and spoke.