Chapter 9
With the hot shower having loosened my muscles, I sat down and called work to give them the bad news. Oddly, someone had already taken care of that. I had a funny suspicion Nick was involved, but it was sweet. When the manager asked if I wanted to come in tomorrow instead, I jumped at the chance. Sure, I'd probably still be achy, but all I had to do was pour drinks.
Once that was handled, I gave up and crawled into bed. Dinner didn't even matter. I just wanted to sprawl myself out on something nice and soft. The mattress qualified. As the sun began to set, overly ambitious crickets chirped outside, but they couldn't keep me awake. The lazy rumble of cars on the street worked like a lullaby. It didn't take long before I was out.
Much, much later, a feather-light touch slid along my temple, following the line of my hair. It was dark, I could tell that, and my room was cool. Struggling to figure out what had jostled me from sleep, I pried my groggy eyes open. They flickered once before obeying, then I froze. The world was in shades of grey – and not just from the lack of light. Looking left, the clock was dim, just a dead black rock on a dead grey table. To my right was the only color in the room, but I didn't dare believe it. Moonlight blue shone under the deep black cloak of the man leaning over my bed. When my eyes landed on him, Death smiled sweetly.
"You were supposed to be sleeping," he whispered. I moved to sit up, but his hand touched my shoulder, holding me against the bed with the soft plea in his fingers.
"You came back," I gasped, not even ashamed of the relief in my voice.
With a rustle of cloth, he eased himself onto the bed by my hip. "I never left. You were supposed to forget me, not draw me. I just had to make sure you're ok."
"You saved me, didn't you." It wasn't a question. I knew he had, but I wanted him to admit it.
Again, that smile. "You're not even supposed to see me, dove."
"But I can." I reached up, sliding my hand under his hood. "Thank you for saving me last night, and Jamal!" There was so much I wanted to tell him. I'd waited so long, but seeing him again made the words vanish before reaching my mouth, leaving only the sight of his lips to torment me.
He pressed his cheek against my palm. Pale sparks from the stars in his eyes peeked from the depths of the hood. With one hand, he grabbed my wrist, holding it to him. "We have to stop meeting like this," he teased gently.
"Then how should we meet? I like this a whole lot better than last night or the robbery."
From the twist of his mouth, that wasn't the question I should've asked. "We're not supposed to meet at all. You're supposed to stay on your side of the veil, not mine. Little Muse, it's dangerous here. If you don't stop slipping over, someone might notice. I'm worried someone already has."
"Who? Wait, where?" I had no idea what he was talking about. Like in a dream, my sleep-fogged mind spun but got nowhere.
His soft, gentle finger slid to my forehead, tracing lazy spirals against the skin. "On my side of the veil. Our worlds may overlap, but we aren't supposed to meet. Sleep, little dove. I just wanted to make sure you were ok, not haunt you."
"Stalk me," I mumbled, feeling exhaustion pulling at my body.
"Definitely not that," he swore. "But you've been doing a good job of forcing me to come back. Dove, I have to protect you. I just need to make sure no one can get in. Sleep. Forget me. I wasn't here. This is all a dream."
It almost worked. My eyes closed, my breathing slowed, and my mind settled, but I wasn't willing to lose him again. I'd waited four years; I wouldn't give up so easily. With a breath, I wrenched open my eyes to see amber rays from the streetlight trickling through the blinds, the colors of the world as vibrant as ever. This was my world, not his. If I wanted to see Death, I had to figure out how to get back across. Sitting up quickly, I whipped my head around the room, looking for a hint. The time glared back at me on the clock in bold red numbers that didn't exist on the other side: 3:17 a.m.
"Damn it!" I snarled, pushing myself back against the wall, wishing that I could find the grey world of Death.
And I did.
That one little shove moved me through something, like breaking the surface of water, and I felt the world start to slide sideways. Instinctively, I grabbed at the mattress, locking myself to it, too shocked to do anything else. It felt like someone had turned on a fan – a very large one – and the wind was pushing me out of the room.
"Fuck," Death snapped, standing by my window.
With a flick of his hand, a wave of cyan and pink washed across the room, leaving tiny symbols as proof. They faded out quickly, but the wind died down, making this grey world into a colorless version of what I knew. There were still differences.
The more life something had, the more brilliantly it was colored. Death's skin might be pale, but it was almost iridescent. His black robe was the same, rippling with midnight blue in its shadows. The cactus on my windowsill glowed in a neon shade of green. The plastic clock, however, was completely boring and grey. Under it, my wood night table held only a hint of color, proving that once it had been alive, but no longer.
Unfortunately, my inspection didn't impress Death. He scowled in frustration as he finished the strange letter he was drawing. I couldn't see it, not really. It was like a heat trail or the afterglow from a sparkler. The sigil hung for a moment, then faded, but the feeling of it remained. So did Death's anger.
"I said you couldn't be here," he growled, turning to glare.
He made another gesture and I felt a pull, tugging me into myself, but I fought it. I wasn't leaving. I didn't care who or what he was, he couldn't get rid of me that easy. I had questions, I wanted answers, and I wasn't giving up until I got at least one.
"You can't make me go," I warned him. "I will just keep coming back over and over if you try."
His jaw was clenched, the formless robe hiding the tension I knew would be coursing through his shoulders. "You felt that wind? Without my wards, it would blow you through the corridor until your soul was ripped apart. Are you that ready to die? Are you that desperate for my attention?"
"No. Yes." I tried to answer both questions in the order they were asked. "Death!" I crawled to the end of the bed, but he pointed back to the pillows.
"Sleep," he ordered. "Stay on Earth. Do not cross the damned veil again!"
Obviously, he didn't know me very well. His words didn't even slow me down. I knew I was barely dressed but didn't care. He'd seen me dying, so a t-shirt and panties wasn't a big deal at all. I kept going, crawling off the bed and storming to him with a purpose. I would not leave, not without seeing his face. I had to. I had to know what held those stars. It had become an obsession.
As I reached him, Death met me, ready to throw me back to whatever hell I'd started in. Fine, let him try, but first... I grabbed the side of his hood and pulled, trying to yank it back.
His cheek shone in the dimness, but the cloth caught on something. I tried to tug again, but he caught my arm, pulling my hand away. "Please," I begged. When I tried with the other, he intercepted that one too, his strong fingers imprisoning my wrists. "Please," I said again. "I have to see you. I've spent four years wondering who you are. Just show me a glimpse and I'll go back."
"You don't want to see my face," he insisted.
"Yes, I do!"
I pulled an arm free, but he pushed me back. Gently. Everything Death did with me was gentle, as if he was terrified I'd break. That's the only reason I managed to reach for his hood again, the back of my fingers grazing something hard – and he flinched away.
"Don't," he begged. "Don't look at my face. Please. I'm not human."
"I know." Once more, I lifted my hand, but this time it wasn't to pull at his hood. Feeling solid ridges hidden under the cloth, I breathed, "You have horns."
He froze. Stars peered at me from the darkness, but he didn't pull away from my touch. "Please," he whispered. "Leave me this one thing, Sienna. There's a reason I wear a hood, because what's under it isn't pretty."
"I didn't know angels had horns."
He took a breath, the air sliding through his barely parted lips as if he was bracing for the worst. "I'm not an angel."
"The Angel of Death."
"No. I'm not an angel." His fingers tightened on my shoulder. "I'm not divine. When humans see me, they call me a monster, so I wear the hood. Ask me for anything else, but not my face."
Standing there like that, with his cheek in my hand and my wrist in his, we were at a standoff. I could feel the vulnerability. This strong, impossible creature had one single weakness. What he couldn't fathom was that I didn't care. I didn't want him to be pretty. I just wanted to know the man who'd made miracles happen to protect me, to put a face to all the dreams I'd had over the years. I needed something to fill the gap in my mind where his identity should have been.
"Do you at least have a name?"
The corner of his lip twitched in a hint of a smile. "A few. Death is one, and I like it when you call me that."
I huffed in frustration. "No face, no name, and you want me to be happy with that?"
"No," he said softly, stepping closer as he released my wrist. "I want you to rage at me like a woman, curse me to eternity, and then stay on your side of the veil."
Oh, I heard what he was saying, but everything he did disagreed. So I called him on it. "Bullshit. I'm not sure what you want, but stop lying to me. I think you owe me that at least."
"Oh? Do I now? Dove, in case you forgot, it's you that owes me. I kept you from killing that stupid boy at the gas station because I knew the guilt would destroy you. I put your soul back together last night so you could graduate college, just like you asked. Tell me, what is it you've done for me?"
"Yeah, see, I'm not quite sure, but there's a reason you wanted my kiss. There's a reason you keep coming back. I may not know what it is, but don't treat me like I'm an idiot. You expect me to just obey your orders but give me no reason why. Well, in case you missed it, I'm not that kind of girl, so start talking, or I'll become the biggest pain in your ass you've ever seen."
He was supposed to be cowed, or at least chastised. Instead, Death was grinning at me like I'd just performed some adorable little trick. In frustration, I jerked away from him and turned back to my bed. I didn't make it a step before he caught my wrist.
"Sia..."
"Look, if you won't tell me anything else, at least tell me what you are."
He tugged me around so I faced him. "That's not any better."
"Ok, then where are we? Can you answer that?"
He dipped his head slightly. "This is the corridor. It exists in parallel to the reality you know, but it's not the same. It's where souls go to disperse when they die."
"Ghosts?" I asked.
He canted his head as if I was close but not quite right. "They can be interpreted that way. It's complicated, little dove, and I'm not sure I could make you understand. Your science hasn't gotten that far."
"Ok," I sighed, aware I wasn't getting much out of him. "Can you at least tell me what you were doing to my window?"
"Wards." For once, he made no attempt to avoid the question. "Twice now, you've almost made it through the veil without help." Then he tipped his head at me. "And once you've succeeded. The problem is that you have no idea how to deal with the winds. The walls wouldn't keep you from blowing away because they aren't really here. None of this is, but the corridor is thin enough to try to mimic the reality you know. So I used the structure as a foundation for a shield. So long as you're in your house, if you accidentally slip through without me around, you won't be torn apart."
"And killed?"
"And killed," he agreed. "It would be easiest if you forgot all about this place, but I'm not an idiot either. I know you will poke at the pieces until you think you've found an answer, and for you, that means trying to reach this place again. I'm trying to make sure you live long enough to realize that's a very bad idea."
I didn't like what he was saying. Not at all. "So what am I supposed to do, Death?"
"Make art. Inspire others. Create fantastical things and feed the fabric of life." Then he chuckled. "Well, that's what you were supposed to do, but I think your art has been winning."
The pencil. He had to know about the pencil that had fallen off the page. "Have you been watching me?"
His finger brushed the inside of my wrist soothingly where he held it. "Watching over you. It sounds a little less offensive like that. And no, I'm not always hovering around you. I'm trying very hard to leave you alone, but you have no idea what you've been doing, and it's like a beacon to those who want to make problems."
"Like that creepy guy in my Creative Writing class?"
His mouth split into a grin and he ducked his hood trying to hide it. "I like how you assume I know everyone around you. Just so it's clear, I don't."
"Ok." Evidently, I was on the wrong track. "So why can I even do this? Is this something that anyone can do if they knew this place existed?"
"You're special."
"Are we talking like short bus kinda special here?"
The laugh I got was the most amazing thing ever. If I tried to imagine what people said angels sounded like, it would be the same as his laugh, all deep, rich, and harmonious. "No," he assured me. "Most humans haven't evolved the mental awareness to traverse the planes of existence. You have. That kind of special."
"Are there others like me?"
His mouth opened, the smile faded, then it closed without a word. Slowly, he shook his head. "Not humans, no."
I tried to keep the accusation out of my voice for the next question. "Is that why you're watching over me?" I didn't want to be some kind of specimen.
He took a half step closer, ducking his head to look at me from under that heavy cowl. "It's why I noticed you. It's not why I watch. I just want to give you the chance to grow up and master your art. I want to see you shine so brightly."
"Why?" I had to know. I couldn't help myself.
Death reached up and cupped the side of my face. "Because I know what it's like to be trapped in a war you cannot win. Because there's this spark in your eye that challenges even me. Because in all of my very long life, I've never met anyone who can inspire me the way you do." Slowly, his hand slipped around to the back of my neck. "Because, my little dove, I love the sound of your laugh and can't get enough of that smile when you learn something new. I want to make sure you stay safe long enough to become the kind of person who won't resent what you've lost."
"What am I going to lose?"
"Everything," he said softly. "If you keep following me, you will lose anything and everything that matters to you. Maybe you'll gain more to replace it – I don't know – but playing with Death?" He offered a wry smile. "It's not a wise decision."
He had a point. Hearing it spoken aloud made it even more blatant. "So you're saying I should stop looking for you?"
Another half step put his chest almost against mine. "It would be the wise choice, but it's not the one I'm rooting for."
"Then what are you rooting for?" I'd intended to make that a demand. Instead, it sounded more like I was pleading.
He leaned closer. "A partner. A woman strong enough that she doesn't even fear Death."
I lifted my chin – not in defiance, but to bare my lips to his. "I'm not scared of you. I've never been scared of you."
"I know."
"But I am addicted to you, and I don't know why."
His thumb traced the line of my jaw. "Like calls to like, my little dove. You and I? We're not that dissimilar. Your tenacity is an addiction I can't get enough of."
I didn't know what that meant, but he didn't give me the chance to ask. There, in the darkness of my bedroom, Death kissed me, forcing all of the insanity away. Closing my eyes, I leaned in, pressing my entire body against his. While our mouths tangled like long lost friends, I felt the lines of his body. The very human lines, carefully hidden beneath the heavy fabric of his robe. His chest was broad and flat. His waist was lean. Using my hands, I found one hell of a sexy man locked away from my eyes, but I didn't care. He'd all but said he wouldn't leave me.