Chapter Seven

Seth

After the pain came nothingness. It was as if Seth’s mind was drifting in the dark stillness of space. There were no sounds, no sights, no sensations. There was just… nothing. For the first time in ten years, Seth felt peace.

Then he was pulled... he couldn’t even describe the direction. Up, down, left, right. He had no senses with which to explain what was happening to him. He just knew he was being dragged somewhere and that he didn’t want to go.

Bright light blinded him, making him blink repeatedly.

He was in the warehouse, which shouldn’t have been a big surprise. What was weird, was that he wasn’t alone. Two men were standing close by, arguing. He recognized Blue Eyes instantly. What was he doing here? His gaze snagged on the huge black wings extending from Blue Eyes’ back, before shifting to settle on his eyes. Those beautifully stunning blue eyes that had always rendered him speechless whenever he’d tried to interact with the man on the street.

He couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. People didn’t have wings.

He had a dim memory of Blue Eyes holding him as unbearable pain clutched his chest, as he’d fought for breath and tried, desperately, to cling to life. Had Blue Eyes somehow saved him?

He tore his gaze from Blue Eyes. The other man was both similar to and utterly different from Blue Eyes. He also had impossible wings, but his were bright white. His eyes were just as blue, but somehow colder and impassioned. His skin was so pale it was almost white, his short hair platinum blond. His face was long and devoid of the harsh angles Seth would typically associate with masculinity. He was somehow far more terrifying than Blue Eyes.

Unable to look at the man any longer, Seth dipped his eyes and saw himself. Dead. Stretched out on the floor, his body carefully arranged with great care. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what it all meant.

Then the white-winged man stepped towards him. Seth edged backward, not aware of how he had moved, just that he had.

“You need to come with me, Seth. It’s time.”

There was no way Seth was going anywhere with such a strange creature.

Blue Eyes glared at White Wings. “So, Killian, are you going to let me help you with this? Or are we standing here all night?” Blue Eye’s voice came out as an angry growl.

White Wings—Killian—ignored Blue Eyes and approached Seth again. Knowing the creature’s name didn’t make Seth feel any less wary of him.

“You need to come with me, Seth,” Killian said in a cold tone. “Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Seth said.

The fact he had a voice shocked him. For the first time, he looked at himself. Not the dead body on the floor that had been him, but whatever it was he had become.

He was dressed the way he would when out on the streets, distributing coffee and food: faded black jeans; the fingerless gloves he knew he hadn't been wearing; the black leather jacket that the thugs had taken from him. He raised his hands to touch it, but they slipped right through. All he could do was stare in horror at the translucent version of himself.

“It's your soul,” Blue Eyes said in a kind voice. “The way you truly see yourself.” He smiled, fine lines crinkling around his beautiful eyes.

The voice was smooth and warm, enveloping Seth like a comforting embrace.

“He doesn't need to know,” Killian said in an impatient tone. “Stay out of it, Dante. You shouldn't even be here.”

Dante. Yes, the name fit Blue Eyes and, even though it was the first time Seth heard it, he felt like he'd somehow known it for a long time.

“You can't stay here,” Killian said. “Come with me.”

Seth backed away again, glancing down to see what his apparition was doing. His legs moved, as though he was walking, but his feet weren’t connecting with the ground, more hovering ever so slightly above.

“Am I a ghost?” he asked, directing his question at Dante, rather than Killian.

Dante inclined his head a fraction. “Yes. I’m sorry, Seth.”

“And where does he want me to go?” Seth jerked his thumb in Killian’s direction.

“Away from here,” Dante told him. “To a place of choosing.”

“Choosing?”

“You must decide what path to walk in death,” Killian said, his tone bored. “All souls must choose, and you are no exception.”

Dante moved closer to Seth, stepping between him and Killian. He smiled at Seth, his face radiating kindness. “Come with us now, Seth.” There was a deep sadness in his blue eyes as he spoke. “I know you’re confused and that you have lots of questions, but this isn’t the place or time for them.”

Seth wasn’t sure why, but he trusted Dante. “Okay.”

“Finally,” Killian muttered from behind Dante.

“Ignore him,” Dante said. “He doesn’t enjoy his work as he did once.” He held out his hand.

Seth stared at it and then held his own in front of his face. Being able to see through it was utterly unnerving. Dante reached out and took his hand. Held in Dante’s grasp, Seth realized his own hand suddenly had substance. The solidity spread throughout his body, making him feel warm and whole. And safe. Dante made him feel safe.

“How—” he began, as he looked up sharply to meet Dante’s mesmerizing gaze.

His eyes widened as he saw pain in the brilliant blue pools. He sought to pull his hand away, but Dante held him tightly.

“It’s all right,” he assured Seth. “It’s the only way we can travel together.”

Killian snorted and shook his head. Confused, Seth looked between the two men.

The muscles in Dante’s cheeks flexed, and then he breathed out slowly, as though calming himself. “The caste Killian belongs to guides the souls of the dead,” he explained. “As a result, he is able to forge a link with souls, that prevents them from being separated from him. I am of a different caste and can do no such thing.” He smiled, his eyes soft and gentle as he gazed into Seth’s eyes. “The safest way for you to travel between the planes with me is for me to make you corporeal so that I can hold onto you. But if you would rather travel with Killian, he can form a link to your soul and keep you tethered and safe that way.”

Seth didn’t have to think for more than a couple of seconds to make his decision. All he’d seen of Killian was someone who was cold and haughty. A man who didn’t have the patience to deal with someone confused and scared, as Seth imagined most of the newly dead would be, regardless of how they’d died. But Dante… Dante was kind and caring. He felt safe with him.

“I’ll go with you,” he said, holding Dante’s gaze. “If I have to go at all, that is.”

The patient kindness in Dante’s smile faded to sadness.

“You do,” Killian said.

Dante stepped close, enveloping Seth in his huge black wings. “Ready?”

Seth nodded, though he wasn’t sure he was ready. He felt a rush, not of air but of space, and then the ground seemed to solidify beneath his feet. Or perhaps his feet became solid on the ground.

Dante released him and stepped away. To Seth’s dismay, he saw Killian had accompanied them.

“Choose,” Killian said, indicating one way and then the other.

Seth was standing on a road. The terrain was completely flat, the sky a hazy shade of yellow. Although he couldn’t see the sun, the light was brighter and more intense than even the most brilliant summer’s day on earth. As he looked to his left, he spied a city in the distance with tall white spires. To the right, darker, more squat buildings dominated the horizon.

“Are you asking me to choose between heaven and hell?” he asked.

“Those are human constructs,” Killian said. “The truth is far less black and white.”

“Uh—” Seth glanced back at the white city and then to the black one. He decided it was best not to point out how ironic Killian’s words were.

“But you are being asked to choose your final resting place,” Dante said. “Once you reach your destination, there’s no turning back.”

“Dante,” Killian said in a low, warning tone.

“He needs to know, Killian. How else do you expect him to make a decision?”

Killian lowered his chin and clenched his teeth. He turned his cold stare back to Seth. “Choose.”

Seth glanced one way and then the other. “No.”

“What?” Killian hissed.

“I choose neither.”

“You can’t do that.”

Seth raised his chin. “I spent ten years of my life being a coward, turning a blind eye to a monster. I can’t wander down a road to eternal paradise, or eternal damnation, knowing he’s still out there, hurting people.”

While Killian’s expression shifted into a dark glower, a small smile had spread across Dante’s lips. Seth was sure Dante gave him the slightest nod of approval.

“If a soul chooses not to move on, it risks becoming a dark and twisted thing,” Killian told him. “Doomed to spend an eternity searching for something it can no longer access. Do you truly wish to curse your soul?”

Seth faltered at that. “That happens straight away?” he asked.

“No,” Dante said quickly. “The length of time it takes depends on the purity of the soul.”

Seth forced himself to meet Killian’s cold stare. “Then I stand by my decision. I’ll only choose a path once I’ve done everything in my power to stop the Doctor.” Not that he had a clue what—if anything—he was capable of, but he was determined to find out.

Killian turned on Dante. “Talk him out of it, or we will both have to pay for losing his soul,” he spat. He folded his wings around himself and vanished in a flash of brilliant light.