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Authors: Kristen Painter

Tags: #romance, #grim reaper, #paranormal romance, #dark paranormal romance, #paranormal

Dark Kiss Of The Reaper (24 page)

BOOK: Dark Kiss Of The Reaper
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The wind died, and the rain ceased. “Is that—”

“No. Not her’s.” She thrust her veiny hand toward him. “But it will take you where you want to go.”

He snatched the thread before she could take it back. Instantly, everything he needed to know about the next soul to be reaped flooded his consciousness. The soul would be ready to harvest in one day’s time.

She raised one bony finger. “Be warned. You can undo all that has been done, but it will not be as it was.”

Taking his full Reaper form, he tucked the thread deep into the pocket of his robe. “Save your riddles for someone who cares, old woman. I have work to do.”

And a wife to save.

* * *

Sara pressed her lips together as firmly as she could. Manda nudged them again with the spoonful of applesauce.

“Open up. You need to eat.”

Sara grunted a “no” as best she could through a closed mouth.

Manda dropped the spoon back onto the tray. “Obviously, the stubborn part of your brain has been completely unaffected by all of this.”

Feeling certain Manda’s retreat was permanent, Sara spoke. “I have no appetite. And anything I do eat comes right back up thanks to these meds and the radiation.”

Manda’s eyes softened. “I know, baby girl, I know. Just a few more treatments.”

“Yeah, if I live that long.”

“Come on, now.” She patted Sara’s hand. “You’re doing great.”

“Great my –”

“Anybody up for a sponge bath?” Dane’s familiar laugh followed his offer as he entered. He leaned over so Sara could see him better. “How you doing?”

“How do you think I’m doing?”

Manda sighed. “She’s cranky and won’t eat. What’s new?”

“I’m still the most handsome nurse on day shift. Wait, that’s not new.” He laughed and waved a romance novel. “I’m off in half an hour. Want me read to you some more?”

“No. That happily ever after crap is such a lie. How come no one in those books ever gets brain cancer? Because it’s not warm and fuzzy, that’s why.” The bed creaked softly from her shifting. She huffed out a breath. “Sorry. You’d be cranky too in my position. If it weren’t for work friends, I’d have no visitors at all.”

Manda tapped the bed rail with a burgundy-polished nail. “So you’re not counting Ray?”

She rolled her gaze up to stare at the ceiling. “That vulture? I don’t count him coming by to see if I’m still warm as a visit.”

Dane whistled. “You probably don’t want to hear what I have to tell you about those roses then.”

Sara punched the button to raise her bed the few inches she was allowed, slanting her eyes in his direction until she inclined enough to see him. “What?”

Dane frowned. “I finally ran into the girl who worked the night those flowers were bought. Said she can’t remember much about the guy except he was good looking and buying the flowers for his wife.”

An image flickered in her head, as brief as a lightning flash. Dark eyes flecked with blue. Eyes she knew.

Eyes that knew her.

And then they were gone.

Her hands trembled. She clenched handfuls of blanket to anchor herself. “Ray didn’t send them.”

“Sure sounds like him,” Manda said. “Although why he’d call you his wife is beyond me. Maybe you being sick has got him all sentimental for the good old days.”

“We never had any good old days.” She shook her head gently. “No, I know they didn’t come from him.”

Manda raised a brow. “How you know that?”

“I just do.” She pursed her lips. “Ray doesn’t have dark eyes.”

“I knew there was a secret boyfriend.” Crossing her arms and shooting a look at Dane, Manda cleared her throat. “What aren’t you telling us?”

“I don’t know! My memory is full of holes. I can’t remember anything clearly anymore.” Frustration sharpened the dull pain shrouding her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and growled in disgust. “Oh, forget it. For all I know, I’m remembering someone I saw on TV or something Dane read to me out of that stupid book.”

Dane waved the novel again. “Are you sure you don’t want to hear more? I think we’re like two pages from a major sex scene.”

“I’m never having sex again so why should I torture myself?”

“Never?” he asked.

She snorted. “You think some man is going to find this attractive?” She waved her hand at her shaved head.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s something oddly sexy about the whole Sinead O’Connor thing.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Manda clapped. “That’s the truth.” She shook her head. “The man is
not
right.”

“Hey, I don’t see you doing anything to make her feel better.”

Planting her hands on her hips, Manda went face to face with Dane. “You listen here—”

“Enough,” Sara intervened, holding up her hands. Her plate held plenty without dealing with her friends fighting. “Just leave me alone, okay? I’m not in the mood for company right now.”

“See what you did?” Manda hissed at Dane before turning back to Sara. “You best hope your mood changes soon then, ‘cause that bed next to you is getting filled tomorrow.”

“Fine with me. I doubt whoever you put in here is going to be as chatty as you two.” She loved her friends, she really did, but her emotions were grinding her down and there was no one else to take them out on. She swallowed. “I didn’t mean to snap, it’s just—”

“Hush.” Manda stopped her. “Now, don’t you worry about it. We all understand what you’re going through. And we all know what a gigantic butt pain Dane can be.”

“Hey!” Dane said.

Sara smiled. “Thanks for understanding.” She hesitated. “I really would like to be left alone for a bit. I just need some time to think. Or try to think.”

“You got it. Let’s go, Mr. Romance.” Manda motioned for Dane to exit ahead of her, then she shut the door, leaving Sara in silence.

She hit the button to lower her bed back down, then stopped as her gaze hung on the large bouquet of roses.

Someone had spent a lot of money on those. The hospital florist shop wasn’t known for its bargains. Why couldn’t she remember who they’d come from?

Every time she felt like she was close to remembering, the tiny thread of thought slipped away. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t grab it fast enough. Her head throbbed with the effort. She inhaled and exhaled a few times, trying to clear the pain.

If she ever did remember, it might be the death of her.

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Azrael strode down the hall with more purpose in his step than he’d felt in a long while. Just knowing he would see Sara, even for a few moments, renewed his spirit. Despite Atropos’s warning, he fully intended on talking to her. He had to. Had to explain his plan, how he’d figured out a way for them to be together, even if it was a little tricky.

When in the course of her lifespan the day came that she passed on from a natural, timely death, he would be there, even if he wasn’t the Reaper her soul was assigned to. He’d fight his brothers if necessary. Whatever it took to hold onto her soul, then he would petition the Fates for her to be reborn as a being of his world. A dual being such as himself, who could walk both realms safely.

They could be together forever.

He squeezed the thread in his fist. Just from the feel of it, he knew he drew near to Frances Corbell, the dying mortal whose soul he’d been assigned. Once he reaped her soul, he’d be free to find Sara.

Rounding the corner, he came face to face with Chronos and Kol.

He stopped short. “If you’re here to tell me you told me so, forget it. I’m not listening.”

“We figured that out when you wouldn’t let us into your house, you jackhole,” Kol said.

Azrael tamped down his temper. “Then what are you doing here?”

Chronos spoke before Kol could respond. “I went to collect my threads and Lachesis told me what happened.”

Azrael sighed. It was no secret how Lachesis felt about Chronos. She’d do anything for him, even though he never did anything to encourage her advances. A dalliance with one of the Fates was asking for trouble. “So?”

Kol stepped forward. “So it’s obviously a trap. You think Atropos is just going to let you see Sara again? Why would she do that? Because her heart is overflowing with rainbows and kittens?”

“And you two are here to stop me. I don’t think so.” Azrael brushed Kol aside and kept moving.

Chronos shot an arm out in front of him. “We’re here to warn you and keep you from doing something you’ll regret.”

“How do you know what I’ll regret?” His temper flared. Typical Chronos, always telling him how to live his life.

“I don’t know, but I agree with Kol. Atropos is up to something.”

“Face it,” Kol said. “You trashed her home. She wants revenge.”

“Making me give Sara that potion wasn’t punishment enough?”

Chronos threw his hands up. “I don’t argue that. I only know what Lachesis said.”

“Which was?”

A nurse walked through their midst, oblivious to the three Reapers standing in the hospital corridor. Her path took her directly through Chronos. He shook himself as she moved on, tearing three spots in his robe. Spiders swarmed to the repairs. “I hate when mortals do that. You can hear everything they’re thinking.”

Azrael clenched his fists impatiently. “Can we get back to the matter at hand? What did Lachesis say?”

“That Atropos gave in to you too quickly. That the thread Atropos gave you neither she nor Klotho had seen before.”

“Means nothing.” Azrael started forward again.

This time Kol’s hand stopped him. “We just want you to be careful.”

Dumbfounded, he stared at Kol like he’d just announced he was going to work a few shifts at the Salvation Army. “You want me to be careful. You. Since when do you care about me or anything I do?”

“I don’t care, it’s just...” A deep rumble sounded from Kol’s chest. “You’re the only bloody family I have, all right?”

Chronos cleared his throat.

Kol punched Chronos in the arm. “Besides you, okay?” He glared through his shades at Azrael. “Stop being such an ass and listen. We’re trying to help.”

A baby’s breath could have knocked Azrael down. He’d never imagined words like that even existed in Kol’s vocabulary, never mind that he’d actually say them. Unable to help himself, he smiled.

Kol grimaced and backed up a step. “Wipe that stupid grin off your face. Hug me and I swear I will beat you until not a single feather remains on those pretty boy wings.”

Chronos intervened. “What Kol means is that we may not be close like a mortal family, but we do care what happens to you. You’re as much a part of us as we are of you. And we don’t want you to walk into this situation blind. I’m sure you’d do the same for us.” He sighed. “We haven’t been the best brothers to you, and we’re sorry for it.”

Azrael bowed slightly. Chronos’ words humbled him, dissipated his remaining anger. “I appreciate your warning, but Atropos’s actions don’t surprise me. She and I have never had a peaceable relationship. But trap or not, nothing is going to stop me from seeing Sara again. I love her. That’s all there is to it.”

“Idiot,” Kol murmured.

Azrael smiled. “Love does that to you.”

“Just be careful, then,” Chronos said.

“I will. Thank you for coming. And caring.”

“I knew I was going to regret this.” Kol rolled his eyes and disappeared.

“You’re welcome.” Chronos clapped Azrael on the back, then vanished as well.

Shaking his head with amazement, Azrael continued on to the correct room. His wings brushed the doorframe as he entered the room. The soft glow of medical equipment provided enough light to see, although he didn’t really need it. He knew the first bed held Frances. He sensed her soul easily.

He shut the door and did a quick check of the room for anything unusual. Anything that might be construed as a trap. Nothing seemed out of place. The mortal in the second bed shifted, but Azrael paid no mind. He had a job to do and his love to visit.

He walked between the beds and was about to put his hands on Frances when she opened her eyes.

She stared up at him, but her face held no fear. “‘Bout time you got here,” she whispered. “I’m tired of this pain. I’m ready to go and be with my Walter again.”

“I know, Frances.” He nodded, offering her a comforting smile. Being with the one you loved was all that ever mattered, mortal or otherwise. “You’ll be with Walter very soon.”

Her lids drooped as his arms went around her. Without further words, he released her soul, offering a silent wish for her and Walter to be reunited as soon as possible, then eased her empty shell back to the bed.

“Az...”

He looked down at Frances. He was certain he’d released her soul. Could this be the trap? Laying his hand on her body, he double-checked. No life. Maybe the sound had come from the machines. No matter, he had to find Sara.

BOOK: Dark Kiss Of The Reaper
4.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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