Chapter Six

Dante

Darkness surrounded Dante. With each beating of his wings, he glided through the air with haste. Where there usually would have been a leisurely pace to his graceful gait, he sped with quick velocity toward his final destination. Even if the murkiness of the night sky didn’t shroud his movements, Dante wouldn’t have been concerned about being spotted. The only thoughts twisting through his mind were to hang onto that link, keep hold of it, and find Seth.

Hovering near the warehouse district, Dante beat the air like a swimmer treading water, his powerful wings keeping him poised above the buildings. Fear rushed through him; the anxiety of what he would find became overpowering. Someone had to have enough magical power to cloak the link he and Seth shared. Where the bond was once weak as though blocked by some unseen force, Dante could feel it stronger. He felt Seth’s fear, pain, and forlorn apprehension.

Dante’s breath caught in his lungs. He felt as though someone was sitting right on his chest. Icy panic washed through his veins. He knew Seth’s end would be coming soon. Unfortunately, even with that knowledge, Dante wasn’t prepared.

Reaching out further with his angelic powers, Dante searched for the direction from which the bond was coming. Turning one way then the next as though pirouetting in air, Dante focused on the place where he felt it the strongest. Setting in motion once more, he feared he’d lost too much time. Dante knew Seth was a mortal. He’d been aware of Seth’s mortality from the moment he was assigned as the young man’s guardian. He simply wasn’t ready for that death to be so soon. He’d probably never be prepared to lose that connection with Seth.

His need to reach Seth overpowered all else. Nothing mattered except getting to him. Not the humans potentially seeing him, nor the fact that he could sustain the wrath of the councils. It was Seth who held Dante’s complete focus.

Locating the building where Seth’s aura was strongest, Dante set down on the sidewalk. Breaking into a run the second his feet hit the ground, he was only vaguely aware that his wings weren’t folded down into his back. It wasn’t until he hit the door and threw it open that he consciously pulled them beneath the flesh of his back so that he could fit through the door.

Dante barely stopped long enough to let his eyes adjust, as dusty, stale air invaded his lungs. Worse was the scent of sweat, anger and cold, heartless intimidation. Dante picked up on them almost instantaneously. As he continued to rush through the large building, he also picked up another scent.

Seth! He was here. Not only was he catching Seth’s scent, but Dante heard Seth’s muffled sobs and smelled the salt of tears.

As he darted toward the center of the room, Dante’s gaze landed on Seth crumpled on the floor. Struggling to breathe, he felt as though he was suffocating while watching the scene before him. Seth was curled up in a ball, clutching at his chest, whimpering. Pain marred his handsome face. Dante skidded to a stop at Seth’s side. Kneeling next to him, he tenderly gathered Seth into his arms.

Dante settled down on the ground, his wings wrapped protectively around Seth. Looking down into emerald green depths, Dante choked back a cry. Those same brilliant eyes he’d looked into so many times before were wet with tears. Instead of laughter and joy, they held the same sorrow, fear, and pain that Dante could feel through their bond.

“No. This can’t happen. Please, Seth,” Dante pleaded. His voice cracked with despair.

Ignoring the tears rolling down his own cheeks, Dante held Seth close. Dante gingerly caressed his charge’s skin, and wiped the tears from Seth’s cheeks.

“I’m not going to let this happen. You can’t die on me. I won’t let it happen!”

He was distraught. The thought of losing Seth overwhelmed him. Dante had never—in all the centuries of time since his creation—felt such crushing pain.

Seth’s lips parted as though he were attempting to speak. It looked like he was trying to tell Dante something, yet no words came out. The pained look filling Seth’s beautiful emerald eyes broke Dante’s heart. He wanted to take all the suffering away from the young man he held in his arms. Dante felt Seth’s labored breathing against him, each breath harder than the last. Dante could hear Seth’s pulse become more erratic, no longer as steady as it once was.

“I’m here, Seth. Stay with me. Please.” Dante sobbed quietly. “I’ll get you help.”

Dante kissed his forehead. Seth was growing cold, his skin clammy and slick with sweating. Tears dropped from Dante’s eyes to mingle with those streaming down Seth’s cheeks.

With a press of his lips against Seth’s forehead, Dante felt the life slip away from Seth’s mortal body. The labored breathing slowed, then stopped. Seth’s pulse quieted, then became silent as well. Dante felt cold. The ending of Seth’s mortal life was the signal that Dante would no longer have contact with the man he loved. A black nothingness blossomed in his chest, expanding into a hole within the center of Dante’s soul. A frigid hollowness clung to him; an icy emptiness as lifeless as Seth’s body in Dante’s arms.

Dante’s head dropped back. “No!” he cried out despairingly to the heavens.

There was no way this was happening; Seth couldn’t be dead. The pain of the loss stole Dante’s breath. He shook with anguish, and anger at himself for not doing more grew within him.

Looking down into Seth’s lifeless face, tears streamed down Dante’s cheeks. Seth’s eyes were open, yet they held the vacant stare of death. Though Seth’s body was dead, Dante could still feel the soul link that the two of them shared. The young man’s spirit was still there. The feeling of still having a link with Seth’s soul was something Dante held fast. He wanted to cherish everything he could, even through the pain and loss.

Unaware of how much time had passed, Dante refused to move from his position. Sitting on the floor with Seth’s body wrapped in his arms, his wings protected the young man from the outside world. The air was still around them. Dante’s arms and legs cramped. His muscles twitched. Yet he still did not move; he refused to let go of Seth’s body.

Dante didn’t care who saw him or if he was reprimanded. Whatever happened to him was secondary compared to what he was going through now. He should have told Seth he loved him while he was alive. Fuck, he should have done something other than what he’d done. If Dante would have been honest about his feelings, then perhaps Seth would still be alive. If he had done something differently—stayed on earth to keep Seth safe. Anything!

A sudden sound came from the shadow to his right. Dante’s head shot up. His eyes darkened with anger. He snarled while pulling Seth’s body closer against his chest.

Killian stepped toward Dante. Realizing that Seth’s spirit hadn’t released from his body yet, Dante scowled at the other angel. For the first time, Dante’s sadness mutated into anger, and he lashed out at his friend.

“Where in hell were you?!” Dante sneered. “You’re fucking late. Weren’t you supposed to be here before he fucking died?”

Continuing to walk toward Dante and Seth, Killian arched a tailored brow upward. The ethereal glow surrounding him almost blinded Dante. Killian transported the spirits and souls of the departed to their final resting place. With his pure white wings extended outward, the angel truly looked the part of a being from the escorting caste.

“I was detained, Dante. You do realize that he isn’t the only human in my district?” Killian spoke calmly. “I can’t help it if these stupid humans keep killing each other like they do. Tonight there was a gang war three blocks over. Two were killed and needed to be transported. You’d think they would stop doing this.”

Killian’s words were almost cold—uncaring—when he spoke them. They grated on Dante’s nerves; his anger grew exponentially with each spoken statement.

Dante lay Seth’s body on the floor and straightened it out, and then stood up. Turning to face Killian, his face twisted in disgust. Dante crossed his arms over his chest.

“You act like this is some huge game, Killian.” Stepping closer to Killian, Dante stared into his eyes. “These are the humans’ souls we’re talking about here. Not some inanimate object that can be left lying around until you have time to get to them.”

Killian rolled his eyes indignantly. “Don’t tell me how to do my job, Dante. I’ve been guiding these souls as long as I’ve known you. Not once have I lost anyone.”

“No, but you could have this time. There’s always a first that could happen. Even you aren’t perfect.” Dante tried desperately to keep his voice from cracking—from showing what he was truly feeling. Much to his dismay, he knew Killian wasn’t fooled.

“Move out of the way, Dante, and let me do my job. You have no business here in the first place.”

Killian made a move to step around Dante but was stopped by Dante’s hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t blow me off. You know you were late, Killian. There was no excuse for that.”

Turning to look at Dante, Killian snorted. “And if you wouldn’t have fallen in love with a mortal, you wouldn’t care this much. He was your charge while he was alive.” Killian’s voice punctuated the last word. “Alive, Dante. As in, not dead. Which is what Seth is now. You should go home, Dante. Go back to where you belong. Forget about Seth. He’s not destined for the angelic plane.”

Dante stepped back and stood beside Seth’s body, his imposing black wings remaining extended outward. He remained there as though he was a sentinel overseeing his watch.

“I haven’t...”

Dante couldn’t bring himself to say that he had feelings for Seth. Not that he didn’t want to. He would have, but he was already on shaky ground. If he said anything else, his voice would have betrayed him.

Lost, empty and alone, Dante felt like a part of him had died with Seth. He couldn’t help but wonder where Seth would end up.

Looking to Killian once more, he set his shoulders. “You’ll let me help you take him to where he is supposed to go. It’s the least you can do for being late. After all, he is under my care until you take his soul to its final resting place.”

Killian seemed as though he was going to argue. However, as soon as Killian opened his mouth to speak, a flash of light appeared next to Seth’s body. A soft rush of air came next.

Standing beside Dante was Seth’s ghost—his immortal spirit after leaving his body. A look of fear and anxiety filled his face. He silently looked between Dante and Killian, confusion playing behind his eyes. When Seth looked down at the dead body, Dante wasn’t sure what would happen next. He’d never seen that exact expression on another’s face. Then again, the shock and the traumatic cause of death could have been a part of what was going on inside Seth.

Killian took a step toward Seth which in turn caused the young man to move backward. “You need to come with me, Seth. It’s time.” Killian tried to coax Seth to follow him, but all the encouragement wasn’t getting the spectre to budge.

“So, Killian. Are you going to let me help you with this? Or are we standing here all night?” Dante growled.

He wasn’t above using Seth’s hesitance against Killian. Dante wanted more time with Seth and to find out where Seth’s ghost was going. This seemed a good way to get what he wanted; he merely hoped Killian would give in.