Page 24 of Death and Divination
He blinked. “How would I know when you’re going to die? You’re the oracle, not me. I show up and reap a soul. It’s not like I can predict when someone’s going to die or not. That’s not in my job description.”
“So, you’re just going to stay with me until it happens?”
“I don’t know where else I’m supposed to go. Don’t you want me here?” He sounded a bit hurt. “I don’t want to impose. I guess it was rather presumptuous of me, but I want to be near you. I can leave.”
“Don’t leave. Idowant you to stay here.”
I liked him. He was hot, and I really wanted him in my bed, but there was more to it than that. Everything felt right with him around—which was pretty twisted, given what his job description entailed.
“Just promise me that it will be somewhere decent,” I told him. “Not when I’m on the toilet, or while I’m driving and could hit someone. Not while I’m at work because that’s not a good time, either. Maybe in my sleep? With my hair done and my makeup on and a nice pair of undies and some silky pajamas?”
Crap, I didn’t own any silky pajamas. I really didn’t want to be found dead in a threadbare Hard Rock Café shirt or a stained tank top. Maybe Nash could stall this whole reaping thing until I had time to run over the mountains to the mall and get a pretty lacy negligée at Victoria’s Secret. Nothing too sleazy, though, because I didn’t want my sisters to see me in some crotchless, nipple-baring number.
Nash stared at me and slowly shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“My death.” I blew out a breath in exasperation. “We made a deal. You said a life for a life, and I agreed to it. Sylvie lives and I die. But when? I can’t keep walking around not knowing if it’s going to be today or tomorrow or next week, my death hanging over my head like that sword of Damocles thing. Give me some idea of when. And then let’s go screw, because that’s on the top of my bucket list if you haven’t realized it yet.”
He squinted at me and slowly shook his head. “I don’t know when you’re going to die. That wasn’t the deal.”
“Then whatwasthe deal?” I was tired. I was horny. I was drained emotionally. And I was scared that I was going to die before I got a chance to have sex with this reaper. “You said a life for a life.”
“Yes. A life for a life. I’m a reaper. My job is to free souls from their mortal bodies. It’s one thing to delay that and let mortal medicine have a chance to change the outcome. It’s another to refuse to collect a soul. I refused to collect a soul, Iresurrectedsomeone, and there’s a price that must be paid when that happens—a steep price.”
“I know. I agreed to pay that price. I just want to know when it’s going to happen as well as some assurance that I’ll have clean underwear on at the time.”
He stepped closer to me. “Youdon’t pay that price.Ido. I’m the one who refused to do my duty. I’m the one who resurrected a mortal. I’m the one who pays.”
I caught my breath. “But you said a life for a life.”
He nodded. “Mylife.”
No. No, no, no. How could this happen? “That’s not what I agreed to. I agreed to exchange my life for Sylvie’s. It’s not…you can’t. I can’t let you do this. That’s not fair. I know you said you were going to be in trouble, but I thought my death would somehow even the score. I would have never agreed to this if I’d knownyouwere the one who was going to die.”
He gave me a sad smile. “It’s too late to change things now. I offered. When I said, ‘a life for a life,’ I was letting you know what the ramifications would be.”
“Why would you do this?” I shook my head in astonishment. “You don’t know Sylvie. Why would you do this?”
“Because of you. I did this for you, Ophelia, because your family is your life. When I saw you two years ago, everything changed. I cannot imagine existing without you. I would do anything for you. I know you feel the same about your sisters. I don’t want to see you unhappy, so I laid down my scythe and refused to do what my sole purpose of existing is. I refused to reap, I resurrected a mortal, and I now I have paid the price. I’d do it again if I could. I’d do anything for you, anything to make you happy.”
No. This was even worse than thinking I was the one who was going to die. He’d sacrificed himself for my sister because he…kind of loved me? My chest felt as if someone had put a truckload of boulders on it. I liked him. I really liked him. I got the feeling that with time, I might actually grow to love him.
It was a tragedy. A choice where both paths ended in death.
“How long do you have? Do you know?” I asked him.
His eyes searched mine. “It’s already done. It was done the moment your sister took that breath on the kitchen floor.”
“Done?” I walked over and put a hand on his chest. “So, you’re dead. Like a zombie? Like one of Babylon’s raised-from-the-dead animals?”
He put his hand over mine. “The life I had is gone. I have no idea what is going to happen, but I feel different. I’m still here. I’m stuck on this plane of existence with the mortals. I’m no longer a reaper. I gave up my life as a reaper—I died—for your sister to live.”
“So, you’re mortal, right? Just a normal human? You’re not going to die tonight or tomorrow or anything because of what you did? The price you paid was to give up your reaper-ness and immortality, not give up life itself.”
“I don’t know. This has never happened to a reaper before. I honestly don’t know if I’m a human or something else. I don’t know if I’m mortal or not. All I know is I’m here and even if I wanted to leave, I can’t. I no longer hear the call to go reap a soul. The rest…well, I guess I’ll figure out the rest as I go.”
“So you’re basically fired?”
How crappy was that? One refusal to reap, one resurrection, and he was out of a job. No warning. No performance improvement plan. One strike and he was out. I wondered if reapers could collect unemployment?
