by KJ Harlow
“Can you believe that he said that?” I seethed.
Agatha was at her desk pottering away. Tracy sat on the bed, looking down at me sympathetically. I rearranged the cloth soaked in healing balms on my head. Agatha insisted on me using it even though I didn’t feel tired anymore. I had just about bowled Agatha and Tracy over in my rage as I went to my room before they intercepted me.
Not even the heavy scent of lavender would calm me down. Agatha walked over to the bed. Looking down at me, she pursed her lips as she removed the cloth and replaced it with a new one.
“Rose dear, try and relax a bit, will you? There’s no point in me administering this balm otherwise,” she sighed as she went back to her desk.
“Hey,” Tracy whispered mischievously. “Did you hear what she said? She called you, ‘dear’!” She suppressed a giggle as I rolled my eyes at her.
“Did you hear anything I said?” I said, trying to sit up. Tracy shooshed me, half patting my chest reassuringly and half pushing me back down.
“Yes, I heard you the first five times,” she said, looking at me critically. “Look, it’s not that I don’t care, but honestly, give the guy a break. From the sounds of things, you had your chance to say your goodbyes and you took too long. He had to face off with someone who was hell-bent on Ceasing him. He saw the opportunity to finish him off and he did it. You had your opportunity.” I looked at Tracy indignantly. How dare she say that? Tracy didn’t look intimidated one bit. She gave me a look like she was egging me on to challenge her. Before either of us had a chance to say anything else, Agatha loomed over us.
“Enough,” she whispered, her voice laced with venom. She looked at Tracy sharply, who shriveled under her gaze. “Tracy, why don’t you go back upstairs and see how Death and the others are doing tracking the movements of the Tormented?” While Agatha framed this as a question, the tone in which she said it made it very clear that it was a command. Tracy promptly got off the bed and scampered away. She poked her tongue out at me before she closed the door.
Agatha exhaled as she looked down at me. I stared back up at her calmly. Now that Tracy had left, it seemed like the healing balms were working their magic. She hesitated for a moment then sat on the side of the bed where Tracy had been. Her eyes softened as she rested her hand on mine.
“How are you?”
I looked at her face, searching for malicious intent but couldn’t find any. No one had asked me that since I’d become a Deliverer.
“Considering everything that’s happened since I became a Deliverer, I’ve been better,” I responded wryly. It was comforting sitting here with her. Despite our occasional clashing, she knew just what I wanted at this point in time.
“I don’t even know how long it’s been since I signed that contract with Death. All I wanted was to have the chance to be with Stan again. If I’d known that he was being targeted by the Tormented, I…” Agatha watched me, waiting for me to complete my sentence. “I would have still wanted to become a Deliverer.” I stared at the ceiling, coming to terms with my epiphany.
“Agatha, why did you want to become a Deliverer?” I asked curiously, looking at the senior Deliverer. Agatha tugged at her habit nervously for a moment then smoothed it out with her hand.
“Let’s just say that when I was alive, I wasn’t the most devout nun in the convent,” she sucked on her lips as her eyes glazed over. I sat up a little bit to look at her properly.
“Why does Mortimer call you ‘Aggie’?” I had a feeling I knew the answer to the question, but I wanted to put her on the spot. I expected a harsh rebuke for prying into her business. Instead, she sighed.
“Mortimer and I have… some history,” I raised my eyebrows so high that they were in danger of being lost in my hair. Agatha noticed my expression and seemed embarrassed.
“He was looking for… repentance, answers, salvation, I’m not sure,” she looked at me with shining eyes, “and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” I was sitting up completely now, mesmerized by the story she had begun to tell.
“I couldn’t escape him. He was too powerful, too hungry.” Her eyes glazed over again as old memories replayed themselves. “But one day, he had gone too far. He went looking for answers from the wrong person.” I looked at the candle flickering on her desk as his face swam up in both of our minds at the same time.
“Dante,” I said. Agatha shook her head morosely as she stood up and moved back towards her desk. I sat in silence, watching her back as she moved around the desk. Her movements were slow and purposeful. The healing balms were taking their full effect now; I could feel myself drifting away.
“So do we know where the Tormented were heading next?” I yawned.
“Don’t you ever pay attention in meetings?” Agatha said with an exasperated sigh. At this point, I was too far gone to snap back at her.
“They’re going back home,” Agatha said quietly, pausing to watch the candle as it danced for her. “They’re going to London.” My eyes were closed; I was seconds away from drifting off. “So you and Mortimer lived in London together at some point.” I mumbled. Agatha continued staring at the candle. Eventually, my breathing changed as slumber stole me away. She looked back at me and smiled warmly.
“Yes, we did – we were lovers.”
Also by KJ Harlow
Death’s Contract Series
Rose Reborn
War Within
Souls Severed
Blood Betrayal