“It was you,” I whispered, bringing my hands to his chest, holding on as if for dear life.
“It was always me, Kitty Cat. I’ve always been here with you. Now, are you ready?” He offered his hand.
I looked at it, his strong hand that I had ached to have hold me for so long. His strong hands that I would have done anything—and did—to feel them again against mine. And I knew what he said to me was true. We didn’t exist, he and I, not in this world. But there was nothing to fear. So I took the hand that he offered and grasped it tightly as we walked away together, disappearing like mist.
Because no one would remember us.
We were the reapers.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DEMONS.
We all had them. Some of us were just able to deal with them more than others. Sometimes it was merely an annoyance, like a bee buzzing near your ear that you wanted to swat away. It’d eventually lead to a sharp sting if you weren’t careful.
Other times, demons buried you so deep you were unable to climb out of the hellhole you’d been tossed into. At least, not without someone offering a helping hand.
My demons lived with me, enveloped me and kept me warm like a fur winter coat. Embraced me like a comforting hug from a friend. Caressed me like a lover. My demons planted a seed inside me and slowly grew like a beautiful poisonous flower.
Now that they’d blossomed, my existence had only just begun.
As the thunder roared loudly in the night sky, I didn’t flinch. What scared others seemed to almost calm me, the rumbling creating its own strange melody as it vibrated and pulsed throughout my body, giving me life. Despite the music dancing around me, I stood still in front of the familiar tombstone within a graveyard filled with thousands more like it. A graveyard that felt more like home than anywhere else at the moment. My black sneakers sunk into the muddy ground, my feet dampened with the relentless rain, my hair plastered over my face.
But I didn’t care.
I was where I was supposed to be, in the night, in the dark. Fresh pink roses lay on top of the tombstone and my mouth moved in what resembled a smile, knowing his loved ones had been here earlier. With all the shit wrong with the world, that was one good thing.
My eyes trailed down to the name engraved on the tombstone, and stayed there, as if memorizing each etching of the letters in sequence.
Dante Nolan.
It was six months to the day since he died while I watched, my lips touching his in bittersweet sorrow.
The day I had killed him.
Dante was my first reap. And as my first, it was one I would always remember. Not just because it was my first, but also because it was Dante.
Tears sprung to my eyes at the memory of his face, that easy smile, that dimple shining through. Dante was so good. He didn’t have one evil bone in his body and he accepted me, no questions asked. Even when I took his life, still he saw the good in me.
My tears were real and unexpected. I still felt off about displaying my emotions, and I was glad the falling rain masked the tears.
“Sophia.”
I didn’t turn. It hadn’t always been my name. For a brief time I was called something else. I never admitted it to anyone, but it was a name I had grown attached to. Mia. I had to remind myself that my name was Sophia.
Always has, always will be.
“Ethan.” I knew he was standing right behind me, his presence both comforting yet electrifying to the senses. I knew what he was going to say.
“It’s time to go.”
I looked at the wet slab of marble that was now a symbol for a once living, breathing person. “I know,” I sighed, turning to him. “It’s just nice coming back, you know? Even if it’s just to talk to him. I like to think he’s actually listening.”
Arms wrapped around my waist and I relaxed into his embrace, feeling his strength against my back. His breath brushed against my cheek, not caring that he was getting just as wet as I was. “He could be.”
I scoffed, wrinkling my nose. “Yeah, right. Like the guys up in the pearly gates would allow him any interaction with the likes of us.”
Ethan kissed my cheek, then lightly bit my earlobe teasingly. “We’re both new at this, Kitty Cat. We have no idea what the future has in store for us. Maybe things will get better.”
He was lying. It’d been six months. I doubted things would get any better.
I turned and faced him full on. Sometimes I still expected to see the birthmark on his face, the dark sunglasses. I expected to see Briggs and not the love of my life. But they were one and the same. Staring into his eyes, I saw how tired he looked, like he had not only taken on his own sins, but mine as well. Ethan was suffering, yet it was me he was trying to make feel better.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, touching the side of his face where that birthmark had once been.
“For what?” he asked, bringing his hand up against mine, intertwining our fingers.
“For bringing you into this.”
He stilled, his eyes reflective. “Wasn’t it me who brought you into this?”
I frowned, dropped my hand from his face, and stared hard at the ground. Ethan touched my chin and lifted it and I saw the worry in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I would visit Dante almost on a nightly basis, because it seemed to be the only thing that felt real to me anymore besides the comfort of Ethan’s arms. The pain, Dante’s presence, was a comfortable feeling, and it kept me company late at night when my demons liked to come out and play. It provided a way for me to avoid other thoughts that wanted to seep into my mind—a different time, a different love, and a different life that I had ruined.
Liam.
I was silent for a moment, unsure of myself and of what I was asking. It was the giant elephant in the room between us the last six months and enough was enough. I needed a full answer.
“Ethan?” I stared back at him, lightly placed my hands on his soaked jacket.
The rain had finally stopped, the thunder quieted.
“Hmm?”
It was quiet, so quiet, I thought the dead might be listening.
“What happened that night … when Amy and I were kidnapped? It was Liam, wasn’t it? That’s why I couldn’t see his face, because it wasn’t permitted for me to remember during the trial.”
He looked away from me, resigned. “You already know the answer to that.”
I dropped my hands to my side and squeezed my fists tightly, my fingernails digging into my skin.
“How?” I shook my head. “Why would he do something like this? That’s not the Liam I know.”
Ethan moved toward the tombstone and picked up the drenched bouquet of pink roses, inspecting it. “We all deal with grief in different ways. He couldn’t handle it.”
“So he becomes a killer? He kidnapped and killed those girls, Ethan, in some strange ritualistic way. All those girls...”
He placed the roses back on the tombstone and turned to me, eyes bright in the darkness. “I told you there would be consequences. And he’s stopped since he took you, if that’s any consolation.” His lips curled up in resentment. “Deep down inside, he must have known it was you. I guess he always preferred the real thing.”
I recalled what Ethan had said to me in our dream world when I had decided to sign my soul away, and my life, to join him in the afterlife. Everything you do has consequences. “So what?” I stared at him hard, realization finally settling in. “This is all my fault…” I whispered.
“Sophia—” He moved closer.
“No,” I said, stepping back. “It is my fault. Listening to … her. I was selfish in wanting to be with you on the other side. I was blinded before by my grief over losing you, but I see it now.”
Pain flashed in his eyes. “Yes, you were. We both were.”
“And now these girls are dead because of me, girls with eyes and hair similar to mine. Tell me how to fix this,” I said. “Tell me what I have to do to make it right.”
“It isn’t our concern.”
I looked at him incredulously. “That’s bull.”
He stared at me, hard. “I don’t think you get this. What I did … what you did … we are Grim now and we have a duty to uphold. Dealing with Liam is not our concern. That is not our duty. We have to live with the consequences of our actions, Sophia. Liam will have to live with his.”
“Ethan…”
“He’ll be dealt with accordingly. If they need our assistance, then we will intervene. Until then, we do what we were ordered to do.”
I nodded slightly, regretfully, as I looked down at Dante’s tombstone.
“Reap.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SHORTLY AFTER REGAINING my memories, Dante’s emotional reaping, and leaving both Amy and Kaede oblivious to both mine and Ethan’s existence as Mia and Briggs, my next reap was Amber Hunt. It came a few weeks later. If Dante’s reap was the most memorable and heart wrenching, Amber’s was the most newsworthy.
Ethan had brought me to this place, a holding cell, if you will. It was just a one-bedroom apartment across town. We were to stay there until further instructions about our next assignment. It was in a shitty neighborhood where no one cared about our comings and goings at odd hours of the night.
Once we got there, all I wanted to do was hold Ethan. I didn’t care about anything, and for a moment I just wanted to forget everything that had happened.
Ethan returned my embrace so tightly I almost couldn’t breathe. He bent and kissed my shoulder softly. “I can’t believe I can finally hold you again.”
His words echoed my thoughts. As per usual, we were on the same wavelength.
“I hated being Briggs, being callous toward you,” he murmured against my skin. “Pushing you away when all I wanted was to be near you.”
I shivered at the rumbling undertones of his voice as his lips brushed across my collarbone.
“You make me feel alive,” he said, deeply looking into my eyes. “Always have. The moment I looked into your eyes for the very first time, you made me feel. Even dead, I feel more human with you now than when we were ever apart. Call me crazy but it’s true,” he said with a grin, that slow-building grin of his. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I still don’t forgive you,” I whispered, hugging him tight, mouth to his ear. “Two years we have been together. Two years I have loved you. And suddenly you were gone and instead of being next to me, you’re stuck in a casket, still as death. Like Dad … like my mom. You left me just like them. I watched as they buried you, Ethan, each pile of dirt taking you farther and farther away from me. You say I made you feel alive? I died the moment you killed yourself.”
It was the first time I had admitted that out loud.
“Sophia…”
“If you had just believed in me, believed in us—”
“Us?” he interrupted, pulling back. He looked around the room as if he didn’t know where he was. “Nothing could have kept me here, babe. Nothing, including you,” he ended harshly.
I felt a sting in my eyes and turned away.
He stepped closer, dipping his head so I couldn’t help but stare into his hard eyes. “Do you know what it’s like to feel empty inside, to feel absolutely nothing? Not even sadness, hatred, pain. No tears. Nothing,” he spat.
I do, I wanted to scream at him, but my throat felt stuck. It was you who made it all better.
“I’d stare into the sky, wonder for the life of me why the fuck I was so damaged. So different from others with their content lives. And everyday I’d think: why don’t you just get it over with and off yourself? End this façade you call a life. But you know what?” He paused and touched my cheek. “I met you. One look into your eyes and I felt something for the first time in my entire life. Hope.”
A tear rolled down my face. Ethan wiped it away, bringing me into his arms. I collapsed into his embrace, feeling the security of his presence.
He sighed, tenderly stroking my back. “I thought maybe you could fix me.” It was the first time in a long time I’d heard Ethan sound so helpless. “But not even you could pull me out.”
“I followed you down instead. You dragged me down with you,” I murmured softly.
“And look where we ended up,” he replied, lifting his arms in the air.
Dead in the land of the living, and as reapers no less.
After that emotional reunion, he had left me briefly with a tender kiss, promising that he would be back. When he did return hours later, dawn had arrived, and he presented me with the following instructions: that in two weeks’ time I was to walk over to the train station and look for a brunette named Amber Hunt with a pixie cut and red lipstick.
I was ecstatic. Two weeks. That meant Ethan and I had two blissful weeks with one another, no interruption from the outside world. Yes, people kept dying, but that had nothing to do with Ethan and I. Those demons belonged to the other Grims.
Alone in that gloomy apartment suite, we did what we used to do when we were alive. We played chess, we imagined what our lives would have been like if we lived in other parts of the world. We kissed, we laughed, we loved. Wrapped up in each other’s arms, whispering in each other’s ears, holding on to each other like we never wanted to let go.
We made up for lost time.
After two weeks came, I did what I was told. I followed the girl with the pixie hair cut and red stained lips.
Reality was finally back.
This girl, Amber, led me to a film festival going on in the city. The activity was alive with people wanting to catch a glimpse of celebrities as they got out of their glamorous cars with a wave of a hand. Or maybe to catch them dining at a popular restaurant, the paparazzi rampant as they photographed what they ate. Perhaps people just wanted to catch the movie with the latest buzz. As I examined the ongoings, I sighed.
The whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth.
How easy it was to forget the terror people had lived with only weeks ago. I remembered how worried Dante and Kaede had been about Amy’s safety—they wouldn’t even let her out of the apartment, for crying out loud. But these people … they acted like it never happened. Like they didn’t fear leaving their homes, that the streets weren’t empty as if the apocalypse had occurred.
I guess nothing ever really lasted, whether good or bad. As the months passed, people grew tired of seeing the same four walls, missed breathing the fresh air, grew angry at the police department who seemed unable to catch this person, this demon, creating such horrid crimes.
When the deaths seemed to stop for a period of time, people got brave. Children were once again playing in parks, people went out to eat. The world continued, forgetting the unknown serial killer who seemed to be partial to redheads.
I didn’t forget though. How could I ever?
I shook my head at the memory, and tucked a strand of auburn hair behind my ear that had escaped my ponytail. I made a face at the crowd. To think that not so long ago, I would have been one of these people, happily lost within my own little world.
Lots of bodies meant lots of potential deaths, as simple as getting accidentally hit by a car, as intricate as an explosion or fire. Death was the purpose of my job and I followed it around like a sniffing hound. Or rather, hellhound, I thought with a dark grin.
My assignment was located in the throng of people. I kept my eyes on her, trailing behind her from a safe distance, making sure I didn’t lose sight of her pixie cut brown hair. She walked with two of her friends, on either side of her, her face beaming with joy. I tried not to feel anything about her happiness I knew would soon be extinguished like a dying flame.
Amber and company stopped in front of the huge theatre taking up the majority of the street, and it seemed like they’d be there for a while. They probably wanted to catch any potential celebrities passing by before the show, so I looked around and saw a spot on a nearby bench. I walked over and took a seat next to a teen girl, probably thirteen or so.
She glanced
over at me excitedly. “I heard Monique Jones will be here! She’s my favorite actress. Oh my God, I hope I get her autograph!”
I knew that name. Monique Jones was a popular TV actress debuting her first film at the festival. She was an okay actress, but from the beam on the girl’s face you’d think she was the biggest thing since sliced bread.
I gave a quick smile. “I hope you do, too.”
And that what you see in the next few minutes won’t traumatize you.
I heard a shout from a distance and looked away from the girl to see a guy running through the crowd, two cops hastily pursuing him. As he weaved between people, black purse gripped in his hands, I realized he must have snatched the purse off the person who had just yelled out.
“Police!” one of the officers cried. “Stop right there!”
The man didn’t obey and continued to run. He passed a slew of people, my target included, then pulled a gun from his pocket. The crowd collectively gasped as he ran, aiming the gun in the direction of the cops. He fired a shot, and then another, hoping to scare off the cops as screams echoed in the air.
It didn’t though. A dark car pulled up to the curb in front of a stretch of velvet red carpet, not realizing that the chaos wasn’t for the celebrity within the limo. As the celebrity came out of the vehicle, one of the cops who was near the vehicle fired back at the thief. Just once.
That was all that it took.
The bullet struck the thief straight in the shoulder and he stilled, his body rigid as he gasped in surprise. His finger happened to be on the trigger and he fired one final time in the police officers’ direction before collapsing to the ground.
I tried not to flinch at the scream coming from the teen right next to me as it rang loudly in my ear. Making a slight face in discomfort, I rose calmly from the bench and moved undetectable through the crowd that had gathered nearby. I saw my target lying on the ground, blood pooling from the wound in her chest from one of the first shots fired.
One of her friends held her bloody head that she must have banged when she collapsed to the ground. She screamed, “Help her, somebody help her! She’s been shot!”
Never Letting Go (Delphian Book 1) Page 10