Chapter 4

Four

KOHL

A fter Shay’s abrupt exit from my visit and our conversation a few nights ago, I have no reason to return. Yet her soul continues to call to me. Not from the in-between. She is very much alive, and my desire to share the same existence has never been stronger. Knowing the wish is impossible does nothing to diminish its potency.

Only a sliver of the moon is visible in the night sky over Fate’s Falls, but the glow of a small fire at the center of Shay’s backyard illuminates the fenced area. Seated in an outdoor chair, her focus snaps from the flames to my face when I become flesh in her backyard once again.

“Am I intruding?”

She shakes her head, firelight bathing her in soft amber and gold, making her smooth brown skin and long, dark curls shimmer. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again, after the way we left things— I left things—last time.”

“I gave you unexpected, and perhaps unwanted, information. Your reaction was understandable.”

For a moment, she simply looks at me. “Unexpected, yes. Unwanted, no.” She motions at the vacant seat on the opposite side of the fire pit. “You’re welcome to join me, but you might want to move the chair back a little so your cloak doesn’t catch a spark.”

“Since it can withstand the flames of hell, a small earthly bonfire shouldn’t be a problem,” I say, settling on the molded plastic.

“Walking through the fires of hell. That must be a trip.” She makes the same head-exploding gesture from the night at the old witch’s yard. “I thought you mostly stayed in the in-between and pointed souls toward their designated gate. When you’re not escorting people back to their lifeless bodies or delivering messages from the newly departed, that is.”

Laughing is not common for reapers because it is rarely fitting for our duty, but the sound rises from inside me, deep and full, its vibrations in my current form flooding me with relaxation and vitality simultaneously.

Shay’s eyes open wide at the sound. “I didn’t know you could laugh, especially like that.”

“Our previous meetings didn’t lend themselves to that reaction, and in truth, it’s a rare one. But when I take on physical form, I’m capable of all things possible for that species.”

“ All things?” One of the perfect dark eyebrows I long to trace with my finger rises.

The stirring between my legs matches the thoughts rolling through my imagination. Things I believe she’s alluding to, since I doubt she’s asking about mundane physical actions. “Not all things, no.” I watch her expression for signs of disappointment, and get one when her lips curve downward. “For example, I cannot die.”

She snatches a marshmallow from the bag at her side and throws it at me, huffing a breath when I catch it in one hand without shifting my attention from her face. “Pretty quick reflexes for a part-time mortal.”

“A supernatural perk. Lack of actual experience doesn’t affect my mastery.”

A snort of amusement precedes a small smile. “Quick reflexes, yes. Not sure mastery is required to catch a giant marshmallow from ten feet away.”

“Perhaps not. But the term can be applied to all activities I undertake in this form.”

She tilts her head, assessing me. “I can’t decide if you’re just stating honest fact, or you’ve mastered cockiness, or…something else.”

“It is honesty.”

“Of course,” she says, nodding.

“And since I am being honest, I’m also attempting to be—” What word to choose? Seductive. Flirtatious. Friendly would be safest, and not untrue, but inadequate. “Playful.”

“Playful. You want to have a playful conversation. With me.” Though voiced flatly, as a statement, the wide-eyed disbelief in her expression makes it clear that she’s questioning. Then the real question comes. “Why?”

Sitting is unnatural for a reaper. Even having taken physical human form, it is too constricting. Especially while bearing the full weight of her attention. While preparing to reveal long-held feelings I shouldn’t have at all.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” I ask, rather than answer her question.

“No.” Unforgettable green eyes anchored to my face, or what she may be able to see of it, she adds, “I don’t think I could ever feel that way with you.”

Of course. “You are correct. Reapers are imbued with magic that makes us a calming force for transitioning souls.”

“I’m not a transitioning soul, and that’s not what I meant.” Rising from her chair, she comes around to my side of the fire, stopping close enough that we could easily touch if either of us made the move. “It’s not your reaper magic making me feel…the way I do. Maybe it was at the beginning, in those first moments after I died in the river, when we met in the in-between. But afterward, when I was back in my body and you held me while in your solid form—it wasn’t reaper magic affecting me then. It was you. The man.”

“But I am not truly a man. I can just as easily be any sentient creature. I appear in whatever form is familiar and comforting to the soul before me.”

Hands planted on her hips, her eyes narrow and a huff of breath pushes past her full lips. “Arguing semantics with me is a good way to solidify your ‘man’ status. So is avoiding giving a direct answer.”

Finding her annoyance with me appealing is very much a human response. The more time I spend in this form—in her presence, specifically—the more natural my humanlike state becomes. “Whether you embrace or reject my answer, it will change the future. Mine, certainly. Reapers don’t experience fear, and yet, the possibility of being sent from your life elicits tension not only in the muscles of my temporary physical form, but in the deepest layers of my essence.”

“I’m not going to send you away,” she says, her gaze searching the shadows of my cloak’s hood. “ Unless you continue being evasive. Then you can poof on out of here and rematerialize when you’re ready to give me a straight answer.”

The muscles in my cheeks and jaw tighten as I smile. This part of my face, I know she can see. “Do you recall the other night, when I told you I brought you back without direction from the Oracle?”

“I remember,” she says. “I’ve replayed every word of that conversation more times than I can count.”

“Forgive me if I caused you distress.”

“Not distress, just confusion.”

“I will do my best to deliver clarity, though the actions and sensations I’m going to describe are uncharted territory for me, so I cannot speak to the accuracy of my lens.”

“Good thing I’m not paying by the word for this clarity, or I’d already be at my budget with that fancy disclaimer.”

Again, I laugh, the sound tapering into a pleasant vibration that seems to radiate through me. The urge to touch her is strong enough to make my fingers twitch. Her hands are bare, the fingers long and delicate where they’re curled over her curvaceous hips. It’s possible—likely—she will never desire physical contact. I would spend eternity without it just to be near her. That’s what I should tell her. And I will, but from the beginning.

“I connect with souls in the in-between place, after they have departed their lifeless body—even in cases such as your friend’s, when the Oracle has directed me to return the soul. But you… I was drawn to your soul while you were very much alive. I was there when you stepped outside of the building into a dark winter night. I watched you lead the man who believed he was stalking you to the train bridge. I saw you—no, I felt you make the decision to sacrifice your life so that you could end his by causing him to plummet to the river.”

One hand rises to cover her mouth briefly, then it slides to her chest, her palm rubbing over the area of her heart. “You were there for all of that?”

“Yes. It was the only time in all of my existence that I was called to a soul prior to mortal death.”

“Did the Oracle ever tell you why?” she whispers, moving closer.

“Knowing I had acted outside the Oracle’s will, I expected fate’s plan for your soul to be corrected. I watched over you, assuming your life would soon end and your soul would move on, but it didn’t happen. Hours became days, then months, then years. I’d changed the course of your life, subverted the Oracle’s plan for your soul. I did not dare ask how or why it was possible.”

“If the Oracle believes my soul moved to the other side fifteen years ago, what’ll happen when I do eventually die?”

A question I’ve pondered endlessly, and for which I have no answer. I am only certain of one thing. “I will be there.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“Even if I have been condemned for my selfishness and have to walk through hellfire without reaper magic, I will do it without hesitation. I will find my way to you. Since the moment your soul called to me, I have been connected to you. I would have spent the rest of your mortal life watching from a place you could not see me, but the Goodwin witch’s request provided reason to reveal myself to you in physical form.”

She raises her hands, pressing the fingertips against her forehead. “You’ve been, like, stalking me from another plane of existence for fifteen years?”

“I would rather you consider it watching over you with concern and affection.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “In this realm, that’s still stalking. But in your case, with good intentions, at least initially.”

“Through all the years, there has never been a moment when your safety, well-being, and happiness haven’t been my primary focus.”

“My being has been safe and well since I came to Fate’s Falls. As for happiness—” She makes a derisive snort. “Since you’ve been watching, you must’ve been disappointed on that front.” Releasing a long breath, she drops her arms to her sides, then returns to her seat on the opposite side of the fire.

There are only two lawn chairs at the fire, so I lift the vacant one and move it beside hers, then sit. “I have never been disappointed in anything about you, though I have noted your sadness.”

“I mean, I haven’t been miserable . I have a comfortable home, a good job, great boss, and I’ve developed some nice friendships. The wonders of technology and magic allow me to stay in touch with my mom, even though she’s over two thousand miles away. And because the psychopath thinks I died that night, my family and coven are safe. I appreciate what I have.”

“But you would like to have more—what your friends Dela, Constantine, and Natalie have found. Companionship that goes beyond platonic. Someone to share life’s intimacies with. Someone to love.”

“And you sound like a someone who has done more than casual observing of my life.” Leaning toward me, she motions at the cloak, which hides much of my face. “Show me what’s under the hood. More than a glimpse of lips that belong on a GQ cover model, a perfectly straight, strong nose, and dark puppy-dog eyes. I should at least get a full view of who’s keeping such close tabs on me.”

“The rest is exactly as you think.”

“Bold.” A smile curves her lips. “Maybe I’ve never thought about how you look.” Her tone and expression are playful, but her eyes give away something deeper. A longing to connect, to fill the void responsible for the loneliness she works so hard to hide from those in her daily life.

Even without poking around in there , as she once described it, I feel the yearning in her soul. I want to be the one who fills that void for her.

I raise my hands, but before I can reveal myself, I’m pulled from Shay’s presence to the in-between to fulfil my duties. The usual peace of inhabiting my natural plane is absent. Inside, there is only tightness.

Shay won’t know why I disappeared, only that I did so. Without granting her request to see beneath my cloak’s hood. Without truly answering her questions of why . Without saying goodbye.