Descent (Kissed by Death) - Tara Fuller Page 0,12
an irritating smirk on his face. The gilded shield slung across his back and his downy white wings told me he was a warrior. “Little Gwen, don’t be naive. If you could see the bloody trail of sins he left behind him in life, you’d know better than to defend someone like him. He is everything we are fighting against.”
I moved away from him, determination driving every step, and Sky’s eyes widened.
“Gwen? What are you doing?”
“What none of you seem to have the heart to do.”
Once again I felt the pull, but this time I didn’t try to stop myself. I moved on impulse, the internal need to comfort driving me forward. Had the reaper ever known joy? What would it be like to see someone like him smile—break free from the chains holding him down and laugh? I was intent on finding out. Ignoring the horrified stares of the angels, I slipped through the crowd until I stood a few feet from the darkest soul I’d ever seen. He holstered his scythe and looked me over skeptically.
“I’m Gwen.”
He looked surprised, his gaze raking over me from head to toe, in a way no other being had ever looked at me. It made me feel stripped raw. It made me feel torn in two, one part ready to run away and the other ready to beg that he look at me like that every day.
“You realize they can see you talking to me?” He raised a brow as if he expected me to run back to the masses and duck my head in shame.
“I’m not blind.” I folded my arms across my chest. “I know they’re watching.”
“Well, this is a first. What’s so important that you’re risking exile to talk to me?”
“I just wanted to say…I’m sorry. For them. And for distracting you earlier. I never intended for that to happen. I’ve just never…I’ve never seen someone die like that. I wasn’t prepared.”
“I don’t need your pity or your apologies.”
“I know that. But you deserve the apology. If I hadn’t asked you to wait, you wouldn’t have almost lost that soul.”
His entire body tensed, and a chilling darkness flared in his eyes. He stepped forward until the heat of him sizzled in the air between us.
“Let me make something very clear, Red,” he said. “I didn’t do anything for you. I don’t do anything for anyone besides the man who tells me which rotten waste of flesh I need to pick up next.”
My father.
The thought caused a knot to form in my chest. The man who had shown me nothing but kindness and love and guidance was the one who sent this reaper into the fiery pits of Hell every day. He had condemned him to this existence. I’d always known Balthazar’s place. He was the supreme puppet master in a world of death. The commander behind every reaper, the decider of every soul’s fate. But here among a world of peace, where souls were ushered home, it was so easy to block out the darker side, to see only the good in the identity that was carved out for him in this afterlife.
Maybe it was just my nature, to bring light to those trapped in the dark. Maybe it was the undeniable guilt that came with knowing my father may have been the cause for the sadness in this soul. Or maybe Sky was right: I felt too much. I wanted too much. And now that Tyler and April were gone, I needed a new challenge. Whatever the reason, I felt an unquenchable need to bring this reaper joy. To erase his torment, even if for only a moment.
I reached up and touched his cheek, forcing the calming joy in my fingertips to flow into him. I fought past the burn of his skin and reveled in the way his soul greedily began to drink in the light. Tension melted off his muscular shoulders, and he shuddered as his eyelids drifted shut. In exchange, the darkness and torment in him bled into me, searching for something to destroy. I whimpered as it filled me to the point of pain. The sharp, fiery sensation battled the joy within me. He’d endured so much. Death and heartache and loss. It was a living, throbbing thing inside him. Abruptly, he jerked away from my touch, eyes wide with panic. He scrambled away as if I were made of poison.
“What the hell did you do?” He rubbed his jaw where the glittering imprint