Chapter 8

8

WILLIAM

E ven hundreds of years after his death, William still had to fight the clinging fingers of claustrophobia that tugged at him every time he walked through the sterile, white hallways of the Afterworld Department of Resource Allocation. The ceilings seemed to press down on him and the air was stale and tasted metallic against his tongue.

William's short life as an early settler in the American West had been devoid of the physical comforts he'd been exposed to in the years since his death. He and his seven siblings had shared corn-husk mattresses in the loft of their log home. Days were spent hunting or trapping beavers, which they traded for their basic necessities. The terrain had been too rugged for farming, which left them reliant on trade to survive.

After a fever had taken his life when he was twenty-nine years old, the quality of his existence in the Afterworld had, if he was honest, been a welcome reprieve.

But, after over a century of living in the mansion assigned to the Reaper and his consort, William hungered for what came next. He hated everything about the home where they had lived since Atticus had stepped into the role of Reaper. The cold marble floors, the stone pillars and gothic details, all felt like the walls of a gilded prison.

It had been the easiest decision at the time, choosing to become The Grim so that he could remain at Atti's side when he became the Reaper. The procedure had been quick, albeit painful, but William had found a sense of peace in his canine form that he had never been able to find previously. His mind quieted, his senses sharpened, and the way that his paws met the ground beneath him— there was nothing that compared to it.

But now the beast within him craved freedom. He was ready to find their eternal resting place, a home that was truly theirs , not a temporary residence that was tied to a job.

Perhaps, if they tracked down Tati, he could convince Atticus to be done. Perhaps, he could be ready to relinquish whatever it was that tied him to the role of Reaper.

His anger with Atticus had faded as quickly as it had reared its ugly head. He knew Atti, and understood his lover's tendency to torture himself within the confines of his mind. He may not understand Atticus' resistance to Tati – not when they'd been there together to witness her, to see the warmth and passion she'd infused their lives with after only one night. No, he may not understand, but he suspected that Atticus had concocted a reason for her dismissal that stemmed from his own insecurities. Tati, well, she had been perfect in every way.

It only took William a minute to find him, letting his heightened sense of smell guide him to a table that faced a bare white wall. As long as his lover was in the Afterworld, some invisible tether within would always lead him to Atticus.

William took in Atticus' hunched posture and the stiffness in his neck. A wave of warmth swept through him. Oh, Atti, he thought, and closed the remaining distance between them.

Softly, he cleared his throat.

When Atticus glanced up, his red-rimmed eyes were blinking furiously, confusion twisting his beautiful face. But the moment that their eyes met, William watched the tension melt from his broad shoulders, and one of Atti's pale hands reached out toward him.

William dropped to his knees, leaning his scruffy cheek into Atticus' soft palm.

There was a softness, a vulnerability in Atticus' wobbly smile that made William's chest ache. The dark-haired man cleared his throat. "I missed you, love."

William smiled back. "It's only been a few hours," he said gently, even as he pressed a kiss to the hand that cradled his face. "What are you doing, Atti?"

Atticus cleared his throat, holding William's gaze. "I am going to find her," he said, his words unwavering.

William looked up at him. "Are you sure?" He needed to know that Atti wanted this, wanted her , as badly as he did; that all of this work wasn't just for William, but for an eternity that the three of them could build together.

Averting his gaze, Atticus nodded toward the never-ending stream of documents spilling out onto the desk. "I am waiting for her to apply for her bakery. It will come, pup. It will come, and as soon as it does then we will go find her."

Hope unfurled in William's chest, but there was still something he needed to say. "Atti," he said. "Look at me."

He watched Atticus take a slow, deep breath, before he turned back to meet William's gaze.

"I love you," William whispered. "I know that I have told you that a million times already, but I need you to know that I will continue to tell you every day that I am lucky enough to be by your side. Your love will always fill me, Atti. It has always been and will always be enough."

Atticus's jaw flexed, but William could see the emotion threatening to overflow from Atti's bottomless eyes. "And Tatiana?"

William felt a smile tugging at his mouth as he thought of her becoming a part of them. He could see it so clearly: her between them, her laughter and wit and softness smoothing some of the harsh edges the two men shared. "Perhaps, after everything we have given this place, we deserve to have more than enough?"

Leaning forward, Atticus pressed a kiss to William's forehead. "We will find her," he said, brushing his thumb over William's cheek. "Trust me, I have a plan."

William nodded. "How can I help?

T wenty-three days.

Atticus and William spent twenty-three days hovering over the incoming applications before they found what they were looking for.

"Atti," William breathed, and Atticus immediately looked up from where he was scanning an application for a candle making shop that made candles in the shapes of various species of dogs. Perhaps he would give one to William as a gift .

"Did you find it?" Atticus asked, leaning over to look at the document that William held.

William nodded. "It has to be her," he said, pointing at the form. "More butter than a man could ever know what to do with, flour, sugar, a wide variety of fruits and produce. It is also requesting three commercial ovens and seating for thirty patrons." His golden eyes looked up at Atticus, so full of exhaustion but also achingly hopeful. "Is it her?"

Atticus nodded, feeling a smile spread, and he leaned forward, pressing a firm kiss to William's mouth. "Make sure they fulfill her application, pup. I have a few things to take care of and then I will meet you at the house."

"And then we will go get her?" William asked.

"Yes, love. Then we will go get our girl."

W illiam made quick work of toweling off, shaking out his wet hair and sending a deluge of droplets to the floor. Naked, he stalked into the room that he and Atticus shared, tracking down a pair of worn jeans and a gray henley he knew Atti liked.

He padded on bare feet down the ostentatious carpeted staircase, pausing when he picked up the distinct scent of someone else in the house. It was familiar…floral and slightly sterile…Marjorie?

He picked up his pace, jogging the rest of the way down.

There, standing across the bar from Atticus, was Marjorie. She was dressed smartly in what William recognized as contemporary professional attire, her red hair cropped tightly at her chin. She had the kind of presence that made William want to sit right down and ask if there was anything he could do for her.

She reminded him a bit of Atti in that way.

But there were greater concerns than Marjorie's command of a room. There was the fact that she was here, and she and Atti were talking, and?—

William forced a breath through his nose. "Atticus, a word, please?"

Atticus glanced over at him, dark eyes softening. "Of course, love." He looked over at Marjorie. "Just a moment."

She gave a sharp nod. William walked back to the staircase, ears attuned to the sharp click of Atticus' shoes behind him. When he was confident that they were out of hearing distance, William turned to face the other man.

"What is going on, Atti?" He was careful to keep his voice low.

Atticus looked at him patiently. "We are finalizing the transfer."

"The transfer?"

"Yes, pup," Atticus said, his voice soft and gentle, the way it only was with him. Well, with him, and the sweet Tinker Bell who had fallen into their life. "Marjorie and Jeremiah will be stepping into the job as soon as we depart."

William couldn't keep up. His head felt sluggish, any bit of rationale overwhelmed by the pounding of his heart. "The job?"

"I," Atticus's throat bobbed. "I have finalized the transfer, love. I thought that was what you want–"

"Are you serious?" William couldn't keep the grin from his face and felt his eyes fill with tears. "Atti, tell me you're serious."

William hissed at the sharp, electric pain that shot straight to his cock as Atti tugged at his hair. "It is time to celebrate our retirement, love."

And then their mouths met, Atticus immediately seizing control with every demanding sweep of his tongue. It was a kiss that robbed William of his senses, everything fading except for the building heat between them.

Atticus broke away, his breaths ragged against William's mouth. "Let me wrap this up so that we can properly celebrate." As though his meaning was unclear, Atticus reached a hand down and cupped William's hard cock through his pants.

William whimpered. "I," he started, feeling too many things at the same time. "Can we wait for her?"

The expression of happiness on Atticus' face was bone-melting. "Of course, pup. We will wait for her." With one last squeeze of his cock, Atticus backed away from him, eyes shamelessly tracking up and down William's body. "Now go pack anything you would like to bring with you while I finish up with Marjorie."

William couldn't help it; he ran up the stairs with a wide grin on his face. He'd been waiting for this moment. Waiting for the beginning of their eternity together, an eternity that had grown to include someone else. Someone who fit with them so beautifully, as though, perhaps, she had been made for them.

" I cannot say that I am going to miss this place," William mused, as they stood together in the middle of the living room, each of them with a single duffel in hand.

Atticus made a quiet hum of agreement. "It really is terribly depressing."

William shifted on his feet. He was ready, itching really, to be gone.

As though sensing his tension, Atticus reached out and tangled their hands together. "Patience, pup," he said. "We have eternity."

And with a flash, the dark lines of the Reaper house were replaced by brightly painted storefronts.

A quick glance around revealed what William had suspected. The area appeared to be a small town with a single main street. Dense forest was visible behind the buildings, towering pines and oaks with the occasional grove of poplar, their silver-green leaves quivering in the gentle breeze. The weather was mild, the sky clear, and William took a deep, indulgent breath of the fresh air.

"There it is," Atticus said, an unexpected reverence in his voice.

Following his gaze, William looked across the two-lane road, mouth spreading into a smile when he saw the black serif letters painted across the white, scalloped awning. "Slice of Life," it read, although the word "Life" had a red line slashed through it, and the word "Death" was scrawled above.

Funny girl , William thought as a chuckle escaped his lips. Before he realized that his feet were moving, he was walking across the street.

Wide windows gave a full view into the small shop. Round tables were scattered around the open seating area, each topped with a tea candle and a vase of bright wildflowers. Along one wall stood a glass display case, behind which stood the woman they were looking for. He felt Atticus move into place beside him, and their hands found each other, fingers knitting tightly together.

For a moment, William let himself watch her. She wore an apron with little flowers sewn along the edges, and underneath was a soft-looking gray cardigan cut low in the front, showing off the swell of her breasts. Her dark hair was artfully curled, hanging loose but kept out of her face with a lavender bandana.

His gaze lingered on her face, on the confident smile and the dark makeup that lined her upper eyelids, giving her features a feline quality. She was pretty. So pretty that it was hard to draw a full breath when she was around.

"She really is, is she not?"

William smiled sheepishly over at Atticus, realizing he must have spoken out loud. "She is. And I think she might want us, really truly want us."

A more serious expression came over Atticus as he turned to face him. One of his hands came up to cradle William's jaw, a gesture that never failed to communicate the warmth and love that they shared. "No matter what she says," Atticus said, dark eyes piercing as they stared into his. "No matter if she wants us or not, you have me. You have me for all of it, William. Every moment that is coming toward us, each second of eternity, I belong to you."

William swallowed against a wave of emotion. He hadn't realized how much he needed to hear that from him. "Love you, Atti," he whispered.

Atticus pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "Now come, pup. I fancy some pie."

A bell tinkled as they pushed the door open.

"Hi! Welcome to—oh."

Tati stared at them, eyes blinking, mouth agape. William couldn't help but smile.

"Hi there, Tink," he said, slowly walking toward the counter.

"What," she said, her voice faint. Her eyes darted between the two of them. "What are you doing here?"

Atticus reached the counter first, placing his hands flat against the white tiles. "We are here to see you, Tatiana," he said, his voice even and calm. "There are some things that we would like to discuss with you."

Tatiana wiped her hands on her apron. "Okay then." She glanced back and forth, a bit of nervous apprehension still evident in the furrow between her brows. "Is there something wrong?"

William shook his head. "All good things, Tink. All good things."

She nodded, her pink tongue sweeping over her red-painted lips. "Would you like something?"

Atticus answered for both of them. "Maybe in a bit, darling. Now will you join us?"

William couldn't help but smile as he watched Atticus place a hand on Tatiana's back as she joined them on the other side of the counter, his lover's protective nature rearing its head. For his part, William sped up to reach the table first, pulling out a chair that Atticus ushered Tatiana to sit in. Once she was sitting, Atticus pushed the chair gently in.

William and Atticus sat on either side of her, and William consciously angled his body to face her. He noticed Atticus do the same.

Atticus placed his hand, palm up, on the table. "Would you be willing to hold my hand, Tatiana?"

William saw her head dip as she placed her hand in his. He smiled.

Atticus swept his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand, his dark eyes tracing the motion. After a prolonged silence, he looked up. "We have retired," he said, addressing Tatiana. "Well, I have retired, meaning that we are now free to go wherever we would like."

"Oh." Tatiana's voice was hushed.

William shifted forward in his seat. "Now that we are free, we both agree that there is only one place where we would like to be."

Tati glanced over at him, her wide eyes questioning.

"And in case it isn't abundantly clear," Atticus continued, pulling her attention back to him, "that place is, ideally, wherever you are, Tatiana."

William caught her sharp intake of breath, and couldn't help himself, reaching out and placing a hand on her lap, letting his fingers squeeze her soft thigh in a gesture of comfort. Of reassurance.

"You have a dream that you are realizing here," Atticus said. "We do not wish to stand in the way of that. However, if you are open to the possibility, we are very interested in being a part of your life outside of your work."

William felt a low chuckle form in his throat. "We are a pair of greedy bastards, Tink, so we will take whatever you are willing to give us. If you only want us to be patrons of your shop, then we will be here for lunch every single day that you are open. If you are only interested in casual and infrequent playtime, we will be there at your beck and call. If you are skeptical of the seriousness of our intentions and need time, then we will court you as patiently as you are comfortable with."

"But if you truly want us," he continued, "if you share our interest and are ready for an eternity together, then we stand here before you, ready. We are ready to build a home with you, to give you our passion and attention and friendship, if you will have us."

Tati blinked quickly, and William caught the shine of moisture in the corners of her eyes. "Oh Tink," he whispered, reaching up with his thumb to wipe at the tear that spilled down her cheek. "Don't cry."

She looked between the two of them, uncertainty clear on her face. "Are you sure?"

It was Atticus who responded. "I owe you an apology," he said, his tone serious. "I should never have pushed you out of our home. Not when it felt like you were meant to be there with us. And you made me the most perfect slice of pie that I had ever eaten in my life or death, Tatiana." His mouth curved up in a sad smile. "It frightened me, how happy you made William. How happy having you there made me. So I am sorry that I did not see it clearly then, that my own fear stood in the way of us standing by your side as you embarked on your dream."

"So what are you saying?"

Atticus squeezed her hand. "That we are here to stay, if you will have us."

William saw a glimmer of something shift in her eyes. "And you're sure?"

"Stop asking that, sweet girl," Atticus scolded, rising from his seat and pulling her up with him. "Now tell me, where have you put your dream home?"

Tati let out a quiet laugh. "Oh, well. I've been busy with the shop."

"Where are you sleeping, Tink?" William asked, concern tightening his chest.

"I set up a little apartment upstairs," she said with a shrug. "It's working out fine for now."

William glanced at Atticus, catching his frown. The man smoothed a hand over his mouth. "When will you be done for the day?"

Tati glanced outside. "A few more hours. There are some folks who ride their horses in from their cabins later in the afternoon. I like to stay open for them."

William couldn't help but smile at that. Their woman, already a part of the community. Already integrated into the region like she was supposed to be here.

"We will be back later then, darling." Atticus approached her and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "Have a wonderful rest of your day."

William gave Tati a hug, sighing as her soft body melted into his. Ours , he thought, his imaginings of their new eternity already shifting in his mind.

T he light had faded, leaving the sky painted a deep violet by the time William and Atticus returned to the shop.

Tati had already cleaned up and was waiting for them.

Atticus greeted her with a kiss. "We have something to show you."

Tati's brows furrowed. "Where are we going?"

"It is a surprise, Tink," William said with a low laugh. "Come on."

The powers that had previously allowed Atticus to disappear and reappear at will had been relinquished along with his title as Reaper. So they walked on foot, each of them holding one of Tati's hands, down the main street until they reached a narrow path that led off into the dark woods.

"If I weren't already dead I would ask if you were planning to murder me," Tati muttered as they entered the shadowy forest. William guided them, his eyes sharper as a result of his shifting. Even though he was no longer the Grim, he would retain his ability to shift for the rest of his existence.

They walked for a good ten minutes, the muted sounds of life in the woods surrounding them.

Pinpricks of light filtering through the thick undergrowth were the first signs that they'd reached their destination. The forest opened, allowing the glow of the early moonlight to illuminate a small stone house in the middle of the clearing. Trails of white smoke curled up from the chimney that rose from the center of the roof.

William felt Tati come to a stop beside him. "What is this?"

Squeezing her hand, William looked over her head at Atticus, who had a rare smile on his face. It was one of the smiles that softened him, peeling back the steely exterior that he typically projected to the world. William would never forget the first time he'd discovered that Atticus, the Reaper himself, had fucking dimples . Upon making that discovery, he'd spent a rather embarrassing amount of time licking them.

But now Atticus had retired the cloak, passing the scythe on to the next Reaper. Maybe, between William and Tatiana, they could nurture the softer parts of him, coaxing out the sweetness that lay hidden below the surface.

"This is your home, Tatiana," Atticus said, pulling her toward the front door.

Tati whirled around to look at him. "Wait, how did you…"

"We called in a few favors." Atticus pushed the door open. "Would you like a moment to explore?"

Glancing between them, William noticed a hint of pink coloring her round cheeks. "Will you come with me?"

"Of course, Tink." William came up beside her, nudging her with his elbow. "Well go on, then."

From his spot at her side, William was able to catch every gasp, every sigh, every exclamation that fell from Tati's red lips as she took in the home that they had created for her.

Atticus hadn't been wrong – they'd called in all sorts of favors to build her home in a matter of hours. But it was the Afterworld, and serving as the Reaper for over a century came with some lingering perks.

William knew that Atticus was a man of action, and after sending Tati away so callously, it was no surprise that he felt the need to do something both dramatic and deeply meaningful in an effort to communicate his regret.

And it was deeply meaningful. Every part of the home had been chosen with intention, with Atti recalling every wish that Tati had voiced that first night in the club. The huge fireplace in the center of the main room, with one side opening to the living area and the other opening into the kitchen. Large windows surrounded the space, all open, letting in the cool evening air and the faint scent of pine. Above them, skylights revealed the bright stars streaking across the sky.

William and Atticus stood back as Tati flitted about the kitchen, gesticulating wildly about the six-burner gas stove and the already-cured set of cast iron skillets that hung down from a rack. She was so beautiful with her flower-patterned skirt and soft cardigan, her expression bright and so full of joy that she looked like she was on the verge of bursting into laughter.

Finally she tore herself away from the kitchen to explore the rest of the house. She found the wall of cookbooks prominently displayed in the living room, the bedroom that more closely resembled a greenhouse with the glass walls and ceiling, the bathroom with the stone tub sunk down into the ground, and the brightly colored couches, chairs, and woven rugs that featured prominently throughout the house.

"One more spot, Tink," William said, finding her with her nose buried in one of the cookbooks.

She frowned up at him, looking mildly annoyed at having been interrupted.

"It will be worth it, I promise," he said, unable to keep his amusement from his voice. "Oh, and you should take your shoes off for this part."

She was obviously confused but obliged, slipping her feet out of her sandals. Atticus and William had already taken off their boots in anticipation of this moment.

They each caught one of her hands, and together they walked to the French doors at the back of the house. William pushed them open, and the three of them walked out into the night.

"You didn't," Tati breathed. "You guys fucking didn't."

With their toes buried in the soft grass of the wide lawn that extended down a gentle slope behind the house, William didn't need to look over at Atticus to know that he was smiling.

"It is just a start. If there are any changes or additions you would like to make, just say the word. You should have everything you ever dreamed of, love," Atticus said softly.

William heard Tati exhale slowly. "Including you?"

The sounds of the forest around them faded as William tried to hold his reaction at bay. Had she…had she truly said…could she possibly mean…

"You are going to have to be more clear than that, Tatiana." Leave the clarification to Atticus, bless his eternal soul.

William was already staring down at her when she turned to him, her brown eyes holding so much hope. "What if my dreams have grown to include the two of you?"

Reaching a hand up, William rubbed his thumb over the soft curve of her cheek. "We meant what we said, Tink. We want you and are standing here ready to give you as much or as little as you want from us."

A tug of her hand had Atticus circling around to stand closer, the three of them forming a tight circle. Her chin tilted up, unhurried as she made sure to share a prolonged moment of eye-contact with each of them. Her expression was determined, earnest, and, if William wasn't mistaken, hungry.

"I'm in," she said, her voice strong. She reached both hands up, tangling in each of their shirts. With a sharp tug, both men were pulled down toward her, their faces – William's beard and Atticus' clean shaven cheek – pressed against each other. "I want you here with me. In my bed, in my kitchen, and in my home. I want to watch you love each other. I want to learn to love each of you together and apart. I want so much that I feel like I might explode with all of the wanting." She paused to take a breath. "But we have an eternity, right?"

William felt Atticus' nod against his skin. "And how should we celebrate the beginning of this eternity together, Tatiana?"

Her lips turned up into a wicked smirk. "I believe I was promised some, you know…" She wiggled her ass back and forth.

Fuck, she was too sweet. William laughed, but Atticus leaned forward and nipped at her full lower lip. "Use your words, darling."

Pink flooded her cheeks, but it wasn't the flush of embarrassment. No, their girl was turned on and ready to play. "Ass play," she whispered, her tone teasing. "Butt stuff."

William couldn't contain his snort, doubling over and burying his face in the crook of Tati's soft neck. Over the sound of his own laughter, he caught the sound of Atticus voicing a low, chuckling promise.

"Be careful what you wish for, darling. We have nothing but time."