Dead Girl Walking (14 page)

“You were at the asylum?” Jasper asked.

Yvan ignored Jasper. “I was only here to silence you and your friend under Warner de Clare's direct order.”

He had come here for no other reason than to kill Violetta and Leila. “Maybe we should let you rot as a ghost for the next thousand years in misery,” Jasper said. “You took Princess Ophelia's life.”

“I didn't kill Princess Ophelia,” Yvan said. “Warner was responsible for her death.”

Leila had heard enough. “Come with me.” She led him to the front door and opened it. At the edge of the lawn was a wooden bridge with reds and oranges like the colors of fall. The center offered a warm blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Leila had learned that everyone's vision was different. She watched Yvan cross the bridge. Jasper came to stand beside Leila.

“He tried to kill Violetta and he gets into Heaven? What is this world coming to?” Jasper asked.

“Maybe there isn't a Heaven or Hell.” Leila didn't know what to believe. Even as a reaper, it didn't justify her faith or her belief in the unseen. Her tutor had taught her about the different religions, cultures, and beliefs from across the world and through time. It was hard to believe that only one of those was correct, and everyone else's views were wrong. Maybe everyone was wrong, and not a single religion had gotten it right. No one expected grim reapers to be living, breathing entities walking among them, taking souls by appointment. Reapers could feel and experience life just as the living could, the only difference—reapers were classified as the undead.

“We need to send a message to Mara. Let her know that if Warner de Clare is alive, and I suspect that he is, she's in danger.”

“You can't go, Leila,” Jasper said. “Check on Violetta. I'll send a message to Mara, but you must promise me that you won't see her again. It's too dangerous. After what happened last night, we can't go back.”

Leila stalled. Was it a promise she could make? She wasn’t sure. She said the words anyhow, at least for now she needed to do what was best for her sister. “I promise.”

“You should check on Violetta,” Jasper said. “When I get back, I'll help clean up the dead guy, unless Edon shows up first.”

“Why would Edon pay us a visit?” Leila's stomach flopped. Had she done something wrong? She had reaped Yvan on time and played by the rules.

“Between Wynter being a dark angel at the asylum, and Emblyn being gone, I would think Edon would pay us a visit. Maybe I'm assuming he cares more than he does.” Jasper walked outside and found Leila's horse munching grass next to the fence. He walked the horse around to the front of the house. Leila stood at the door, watching him with a raised eye. “I'm borrowing your ride. I'll bring her back in a few hours.”

She didn't object. He was helping her out; she'd loan him the horse. Leila shut the front door. Walking into the living room, she bent down to check on Violetta. “Vi?” Leila gently touched her shoulder. Her skin was hot and Leila pulled her hand back, burned. Violetta hadn't budged since Leila came home. The color on Violetta’s skin continued to redden until it became a blinding orange, with her body emitting a bright force of light. Leila turned her head. The energy blinded her. “Violetta?” Leila’s voice trembled. What was happening to her friend?

With a bright flash, the color vanished. Leila’s eyes opened and she bent down to Violetta’s level. She hesitated, reaching out to touch her arm. Her skin was warm to the touch but bearable. Carefully, Leila rolled Violetta over and gasped. Her raven black hair hadn't changed color, but she now had bangs and her hair had grown a few inches in length. Violetta's eyes, a steel gray blue, stared up at Leila.

“What happened?” Violetta sounded different. Her voice squeakier. She looked a few years younger.

“I was about to ask you that question. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” She glanced down at her hands. Her nails had never looked so good before. She had a habit for picking at the tips. “I transferred, didn't I?”

“Something happened.” Leila couldn’t quite put it into words, shocked. “You look different, Vi. Can I still call you that?”

“It
is
my name.” Violetta stood up and walked past the dead body, stepping over it. In the hallway, she stared at her reflection in the giant mirror. “One of the advantages of a reaper death. We change bodies.”

Leila didn't want to know what dying felt like for a reaper. There was no one to remove your soul first.

“What are we doing about that guy?” Glancing at Leila, she pointed at the body. “I'm not in the mood to break one of these.” Violetta flashed her freshly grown nails at her friend.

“Jasper will help when he gets back, unless Edon shows up first.”

Violetta's scroll sizzled against her thigh. “I can't get a single day off from death. How are we supposed to ever find the time to visit Emblyn?”

Leila didn't point out that Emblyn wouldn't recognize Violetta, but maybe she'd seen it happen before, the transformation. “Tough day.” She wanted to tell Wynter all about it. Too bad he was locked up in the asylum. Hopefully he'd be able to adapt soon and come home.

“Tell me something I don't know. I've got to head out if I'm going to make my appointment. I'll see you later.” Violetta walked outside to the back of the house and untied her horse.

Leila was about to shut the front door when she saw a figure riding in the darkness. It was Edon. Jasper called it. Edon must have known everything that went on. Then again, the fact there was a reap at her house had to draw some attention.

“No, hello?” Edon slowed the horse on the front lawn. A few minutes later he walked inside the house to Leila.

“It's been quite a long day.” The past twenty-four hours seemed torturous compared to the rest of her time as a reaper.

“There's been some changes.” Edon didn't sugar coat it. “First.” He glanced at the body lying on the floor in the house. “What do you plan on doing with him?”

“What do you normally do when they drop dead in your house?” Leila wasn't used to this type of work, cleaning up after the dead. When she'd been on assignment with Violetta and the man drowned, they'd left his body. Violetta had insisted it wasn't their job to clean up.

“This is a first.” Edon walked outside and retrieved a shovel. “It's best no one finds his body. We need to keep a low profile right now. Do you understand?”

“You want me to bury him.” Leila understood she was stuck digging another grave.

“This time, I'll help.” Edon walked with Leila outside, grabbed a second shovel that had been left out to clean up after the horses and began digging at the farthest edge of the yard.

“What happened to Emblyn?” She wanted to know why she'd been sent to Stile.

Edon didn't answer in the way she'd hoped. “Strange how we change, isn't it?” He spoke of Violetta.

“Did that happen to Emblyn?” Would she recognize her fellow reaper if she ever had the chance to see her again? She dug into the hard ground, breaking through the first layer of earth.

“Not recently.”

“What about Wynter?” Leila wanted to know if he'd changed bodies, aside from his change into a dark angel.

Edon shared the burden of digging the grave. He shoveled the dirt, tossing it aside. “No. He's in his first reaper body. Wynter's moved around a lot to keep a low profile. Our entire unit moved to the house you live in now, about a decade ago.”

“Why's that?” Leila didn't understand.

“Since we don't age, we have to keep from rousing suspicion. Rather than separate the reapers, since they were working well together, it was decided we'd move the team.”

“Do you only move to different cities?” Leila wondered how far they usually relocated.

“Different countries too. If a reaper can't speak the language then we have a translator help, and we study until we're fluent. If it's only one reaper that's reassigned, like in Emblyn's case, then she's provided a tutor. Plus, a reaper will help Emblyn learn her way around town.”

“Will we all eventually have to part ways?” Leila didn't want to imagine not working with Wynter. He had become her best friend. Although he was now technically a dark angel, she still vowed to see him every day.

Edon's eyes narrowed, and he stopped digging. “This is about Wynter, isn't it?”

Leila continued digging the grave for Yvan, ignoring Edon's stare. “I worry about him, sure.” It wasn't a lie. She couldn't stop thinking about what he was going through. At least with Emblyn, she knew she'd be all right. Emblyn made friends easily. She was kind to everyone. Wynter had it harder. He couldn't go out during the day for fear someone would see his wings.

“He'll come back and live with Jasper. He just needs to sort out some things first.” Edon stood and watched Leila shovel dirt away from the hole they were making. “You care about him.”

“Did I just break another rule?” Leila was tired of all the rules. She knew there was a reason for rules, to instill order. However, she hadn't done anything wrong. At least not for the last few hours. Caring about Wynter shouldn't have been a violation of reaper code or something. If it was, she would quit. Could she quit? Leila doubted it, but she wouldn't stop or ignore the feelings she had for him. He had become her best friend and he also stirred something inside of her, a passion and thirst for life that had died when Larkin had been executed. He made her feel alive again, and since she was undead, that meant a lot to her.

“Be careful. It's all I'm saying.” Edon dug further into the ground before pausing. “I think that's deep enough.” They dropped the shovels and walked inside. Together they carried the deceased outside and dropped him into the hole, before shoveling the dirt back to cover the body.

“Are you telling me to be careful because it's Wynter? Or because he's a dark angel and I'm a reaper?” She didn't know what he was trying to warn her about. If it wasn't against the rules, why did Edon even care?

Edon sighed. He paused with the shovel facing down and stared at Leila. “Wynter has a darkness inside of him.”

“Don't we all?” Leila shoveled faster. She was tired but she hated that Edon thought he knew what was best for everyone. “Wynter told me about his sister.” Leila knew killing wasn't morally right, but things weren't always so clear. Wynter's world had been streaked in gray, and he'd been forced to face a horror that needed erasing.

Edon picked up the shovel and tossed another round of earth on the dead man in the hole. They were almost done. “Maybe that's why you're picked as reapers. You and Wynter both had unfinished business, just for different reasons.” Throwing the last bit of earth atop the grave, Edon stuck the shovel into the hard ground just a few feet away. “Get some rest, you look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks.” Leila rolled her eyes. Edon walked off toward the horse, while she grabbed his shovel and her own, putting them away. Edon was right about one thing; she was covered in sweat and grime and needed a bath.

Together

Chapter 9

The next morning, Leila felt refreshed. She was grateful for the bath the previous night. It had kept her sheets from reeking.

Climbing out of bed, Leila pattered into the kitchen and grabbed some bread. She sat down at the table, grateful the scroll hadn't given her a new assignment. It didn't mean no one had died, it just meant she wasn't responsible for reaping their soul. Leila welcomed the silence. It gave her time to think, and her mind wandered to Wynter. He was different. As a dark angel, he wasn't bound by the same laws as reapers. Where reapers weren't allowed to intervene in death, dark angels could change someone's fate. Leila's eyes widened. She dropped the half-eaten bread on the table and rushed into her room to get changed. She wasted little time and ran outside, mounting her horse that Jasper had returned. Leila rode toward the asylum. She needed to see Wynter.

The sun rose in the sky. Hopefully, Wynter would already be awake. Arriving at the asylum, she tied the horse outside and stood staring up at the old building. “I'm not afraid.” It was a lie. She was terrified, and no amount of visits would lessen the knot in the pit of her stomach. She needed to be brave and supportive of Wynter. Leila let out an anxious breath and stalked inside, knocking forcefully on his door. “Let me in. It's creepy out here.”

Wynter rubbed the sleep from his eyes and unlocked his door, pulling it open. “You're up early.” Wynter was shirtless and dressed in black cotton bottoms. She tried not to stare at his chest or the wings on his back.

It was near impossible not to stare. He was a handsome creature, and in a human body, she still had impulses and feelings. She chewed on her bottom lip, hoping her cheeks hadn’t reddened from staring at him.

“I've got it!” Leila paced the length of his small bedroom. She couldn't sit still. “Reapers can't decide who lives or dies, but
you
can. That's the power of a dark angel.”

Wynter sighed and took a seat at the edge of his bed. His beige sheets were strewn all over the mattress. “It should be used lightly.”

Maybe there weren't consequences to the dark angel for disobeying death, but there was still a system of cause and effect in place. They'd seen it with the young child when she hadn't been reaped in time—she'd spread the Great Plague.

“We can't save everyone, Leila. Besides, why would we want to? There are murderers and thieves out there too. They don't need a second chance. The man who killed you, would you want to delay his death?”

Leila paused beside the small window. “What if they're stealing food because they're starving?”

“Maybe we can save some of them, but there are consequences. You know that.”

“Someone else has to die in their place, or their soul goes into another body.” Leila forgot about that part of being a dark angel. “Is there any way around it?” She hoped that there was some loophole they could work around.

“Edon's been teaching me about my responsibilities as a dark angel. I have to be able to control my emotions, my feelings, and what I'm experiencing, so that I don't show the world what I am. After I accomplish that, I begin the second stage of training.”

“How's that going?” She couldn't imagine not showing fear, anger, hatred, or even love. Hiding something you were passionate about was probably the worst.