Dark Kiss Of The Reaper (25 page)

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Authors: Kristen Painter

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

BOOK: Dark Kiss Of The Reaper
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“Az...”

The voice came from behind him, definitely not a machine. He turned around. Maybe Kol was playing a trick on him, trying to make up for his earlier confession. Or trying to make his prediction come true.

A hand reached up from the second bed. “Az.” The voice was faint and thready, but familiar.

He went closer, peering through the darkness. The bed held a woman, hair gone from the cancer drugs and being shaved for surgery. Her face was drawn and pale, except for the heavy circles beneath her beautiful brown eyes.

Bile rose in his throat. Sara. What had they done to his beloved?

He reached for her hand, intending to press it to his cheek, then realized that would only cause more damage. He’d never imagined the cancer would leave her like this. He wished now he’d taken the Fates house down to rubble.

“Az...Az...” She blinked, like she was trying to focus. Trying to remember.

He stepped back. This had been a trap. A plan to use his own selfish desires to torture him further. Sara wouldn’t recover from this. Because of him, she’d die before her time, become a Shade and be bound to wander forever alone. Atropos had wanted him to see his beloved and understand there was no hope for her.

He had to leave while he still could, before she remembered him and lost any chance she had for a timely, peaceful death.

She deserved that.

He backed away, turning around once he’d passed Frances’ bed. His hand reached the knob, its cool metal twisting in his hand.

“Azrael.”

Too late.

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Sara smiled. She’d finally hung onto a thread long enough to remember something. It felt good. Really good. Even though she wasn’t sure what to do with the piece she’d caught.

“Azrael.” She said it again, watching the winged man by the door stop and turn around to look at her. Maybe it was his name. She wasn’t sure. Pain meds made her so foggy.

He seemed scared. Or worried maybe. She didn’t know why. “Azrael.” She said it again, just to taste the joy of remembering.

“This is...just a dream,” he said.

“That’s nice,” she answered. “This is a much better dream than the ones I’ve been having.”

He came closer. “Why? What are they like?”

She half-closed her eyes. She was sleepy all the time lately. “Usually something pressing on my head.”

She ran a hand over the peach fuzz on her scalp. “I thought maybe in my dream I’d have hair.” Wistfulness welled up in her. “I want it to grow back blonde and curly. Wouldn’t that pretty?”

“I think straight, brown hair is beautiful.” His voice hitched, caught on the last word.

His statement flipped a tiny switch to an even smaller light. “My head hurts.”

He swallowed and dropped his gaze to the floor. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Everybody says that, but it’s nobody’s fault.”

“Sara...” He closed his eyes. Was he having trouble breathing?

He knew her name. “Are you an angel?”

“No.” He looked up. “Yes. Yes, you’re dreaming about an angel.”

“That must be how you know who I am.” She opened her eyes a little more to see him better. “Can I touch your wings? They look so soft.”

He hesitated. Maybe she’d scared him. She should say something nice, to make him feel better.

“Are all angels as handsome as you?”

He smiled, lighting up the flecks of blue in his eyes. Those eyes. And that brilliant, blinding smile. Her head ached with it, but the pain was good and fresh, like a drink of bone-chillingly cold water on a hot, hot day.

Those eyes.

“Azrael.” She said it again with new meaning. Sharp memories lanced through her. “You are an angel. The Angel of Death.” She struggled to sit up. “Are you here to take me?” She wasn’t ready to die. There was something that felt unfinished in her life.

“No, I’m not here to take you.” He shook his head, frowning. “This is just a dream.” He backed away as if to leave.

“Please, don’t go. I’m not scared of you, I know that much.” She reached out but he wouldn’t take her hand. Every second brought a snippet of her past, but the last flash stunned her. This wasn’t just any man. Her jaw fell open and her fingers curled back to point at him.

“You love me.” Her hand trembled, but she knew in her bones it was true. “You...you...asked me to marry you.”

He rubbed his hand across his face and began nodding slowly.

“And I said yes.” Her fingers rose to her mouth. Her heart thudded like it might burst. Another realization, as bright and shining as a newly minted coin, revealed itself. Her hand fell into her lap. “I love you, too.”

His eyes filled with longing. “Sara. Sara.” He returned to her bed. “I shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be seeing me. This isn’t going to help anything. I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I didn’t know.” He bent his head. “I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know what?” The fog in her brain was still thick in some spots and his words weren’t helping. “What didn’t you mean to happen? For us to fall in love? Why am I in love with the Angel of Death?”

“You weren’t supposed to remember.” He lifted his head, his gaze coming to rest on something across the room. “I shouldn’t have left the roses behind.”

The roses.

A hot bolt of pain shot through her and she cried out. Everything came back in one boiling gush that cleared away all remaining fog.

Meeting him in Edna’s room. The ride on Pallidus. Dinner at her house. Dinner at his. Vegas. The wedding.

The potion.

“You lied to me.” She pounded his chest with her fists. As weak as she was, she doubted he felt much, but hitting him certainly made her feel better. “You lied to me and left me to die.”

“No, Sara.” He caught her hands, brought them to his mouth and feathered kisses over them. “I left you here to live.”

He explained everything that had happened, holding her hands all the while.

She nodded. “You’re right. I never would have taken that potion if I’d know the truth.” She wriggled one hand free and weakly punched his chest again. “That doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

“I’m okay with that.” He kissed the hand he still held. “I can’t stay. The longer I’m here, the worse it is for you. I’m just glad I got to see you one last time. Touch you.” He bent and pressed his mouth to hers. “Kiss you.”

She reached for him, wound her fingers into his hair. “I love you, and I’ve missed you, but there’s one thing you should know.”

“I missed you, too.” He kissed her again. “What do I need to know?”

“You’re not leaving without me.”

“What? No.” He pulled away. “I can’t.”

She held onto him, refusing to let him go again. “Why not? Reap my soul, take me with you.”

“You’ll be a Shade.”

Nothing mattered but being with him and anything was better than being here and going through this misery alone. “I know, but—”

“No.” He undid her grip on him and paced to the end of the bed. “I tried to distinguish one Shade from another and I can’t. Unless you were able to find a way to communicate with me, which I doubt is possible, you’d be trapped in a horrible limbo.” He swung around to face her. “I can’t spend the rest of my existence knowing you’re out there, but that I can’t reach you.”

Deflated, she sunk into her pillow. “I want to be with you. That’s all I care about.”

“I feel the same way, but it has to be done correctly. And I think I have a way...but it will require patience. And cooperation. And you doing your best to recover.”

She propped herself up on her elbows. “Tell me.”

When he finished, she shook her head. “No. Number one, I don’t want to wait that long. Number two...” She collapsed down and twisted the sheet around her hand. “I don’t think I’m going to survive this. They couldn’t get the entire tumor with surgery, so they went after it with radiation. No dice. I start chemo tomorrow. It doesn’t look good. I’ve worked on this floor long enough to know what the survival rates are for cancer like this.”

He leaned against the bed, like he was about to speak. To try to convince her, she was sure. She patted his hand. “And based on recent events, the Fates don’t seem all that willing or likely to do nice things for you. Turn me into a Shade and trust me, I’ll find you.”

“I’m not willing to take that chance.”

She sighed and stared at the ceiling. Why did she have to fall in love with a man she’d never get to be with? Anger kept her quiet. She didn’t want him to think she was mad at him and have that as his last memory of her. There had to be a way for them to be together.

A nurse came in. Sara lay still as the woman checked Frances’ vitals, turned off her machines, then took her chart and left again.

Azrael broke the silence when the nurse had gone. “I should go, Sara. But I’d like to leave you with this.” From somewhere in his robe, he retrieved the winged pendant he’d given her on their first date. “It was always meant for you. And now that you remember, there doesn’t seem to be a reason for you not to have it.”

She opened her hand. He dropped it onto her palm. Curling her fingers around the necklace, she brought her hand to her heart. “Where did you get this?”

He hung his head. “I took it from you, after you took the potion.”

“No, I mean where did it come from originally?”

“I created it. For you.”

She gave him a wink. “I figured that much. What did you make it from? Pixie dust? Underworld mud?”

“Ah.” He nodded in understanding. “From two of my feathers, one from each wing.”

“Excellent.” She struggled to a sitting position, opened her hand and stared at the pendant. “Would you say this is a piece of you, then?”

“I guess so. Sure.” He looked completely befuddled.

Smiling, she lifted the ends of the chain around her neck. “Help me? Even without hair in the way, I still can’t hook these things.”

He planted a gentle kiss on her bare scalp, then fastened the necklace. Every brush of his fingers against her neck sent warm shivers down her spine.

Fingers twisting in the chain, she lay back down and gazed up at him. “You can reap my soul now.”

“We’ve been over this.”

“Yes, but with a piece of you attached to me, I don’t see how you can fail to recognize me.” She tapped the pendant. “This will make it happen. You’ll see.”

His eyes lit up. “You might actually have something there.”

“I do, trust me.” She closed her eyes, then opened them again. “It’s not going to hurt, is it?”

“No.” He sighed.

She could tell he wasn’t entirely on board with the idea. “You’re wasting time.”

“That’s the Sara I know and love.” He smiled. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. No reservations.”

“All right then.” He slanted his body over hers, his arms reaching to wrap around her.

“Azrael.”

They both turned at the interruption. Chronos stood at the foot of the bed.

“Now is not her time, brother. You’ll turn her into a Shade.”

Sara clutched the pendant. “I know all that and I’m fine with it. We have a plan.”

Putting his hand on her arm, Azrael nodded. “We know what we’re doing.”

“Do you?” Chronos asked. He held up his silver hourglass. The top globe contained more sand than the bottom. “This is Sara’s life.”

Azrael’s touch went cold. “She survives the cancer?”

“With many years ahead of her.”

Azrael stepped away. “I can’t do this, Sara. I love you too much to risk this going wrong.”

“No! You have to. I want to be with you.” Panic rose thick and bitter in her throat. She could not allow Azrael to leave her again.

* * *

“What’s going on?” Azrael tipped his chin toward Chronos’ hourglass. The sand had sped from a slow trickle to a steady flowing stream. The top globe was fast emptying into the lower one.

Chronos studied the hourglass for a moment, then shook his head. “She’s willing herself to die.”

“She can do that?”

“Apparently.”

Azrael grabbed Sara’s shoulders. Her eyes were closed and face screwed into a concentrated mask. “Stop this, Sara. It’s madness.”

Her eyes flicked open. “Then reap my soul. Take me with you. I won’t be left behind again.”

Indecision tore at Azrael’s heart. He wanted Sara, but not at the cost of her life. He looked back at Chronos. “And if I don’t?”

“At this rate, she’ll die anyway.” Chronos extended the hourglass. The sand grains sparkled softly in the dim light. “You don’t have much time.”

He growled softly at Sara. “Stubborn woman.”

“You married me,” she whispered.

“I did, so you should probably have this back, too.” He slipped her wedding ring back onto her finger.

She smiled. “Now take me home.”

Bracing himself for the worst, he kissed her forehead, wrapped her in his arms and pulled her soul from her body.

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