Descent - Tara Fuller Page 0,10

my shoulder to find only humans sifting through debris, unaware of the dying boy under the heavy wall, then returned my attention to Tyler. He blinked away a tear, which carved a tiny river of sadness through the soot on his cheek.

“Who is dead?” I asked.

“April.” Her name was nothing more than a puff of breath on his tongue, but I understood. I sank down into the rubble beside him. “She’s…dead…and I’m…still…I don’t want…”

“Not for long,” I whispered. “It will all be over soon and you’ll see each other again in a place so much better than this.”

“Promise?” he said through gritted teeth. “Promise…me. I need to see her again. I need—”

“Gwen!” Sky grabbed my arm and pulled me to stand, looking frantically between Tyler and me. “What are you doing?”

What was I doing? I didn’t even know what to say. I only knew I owed this boy everything. At the very least, I owed him comfort.

“Maybe she wants to try her hand at reaping.” The reaper behind Sky blew a blond curl out of his eyes and flashed a lopsided grin at me. “I’d be happy to show you the ropes, Angel. I’d be much nicer than my better half. Easton isn’t nearly as sweet as me.”

“She wants no such thing!” Sky pulled me away while Tyler gurgled and choked below us. I looked down and met his terrified gaze.

“While I hate to break up a party, I actually do have a job to do, girls,” the reaper said. “And I’ve already pissed off tall, dark, and deadly enough for one day. So if you don’t mind…”

I reached out to Tyler, hanging on to the connection between us, passing strength and comfort through the fragile bond. But it wasn’t enough. The dark cloud of panic and pain surrounding him was too much.

“Gwen?” Sky snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Are you listening?”

“I promise,” I finally managed to say, releasing the connection, allowing him to sink into the end. “I promise you’ll see her again. I promise this won’t be for nothing.”

His eyes glazed over, body limp, chest still. I bit my lip, trying to expel the nauseating feeling of sadness trying to pull me under. The reaper pulled his scythe from his holster as the last bit of life was snuffed out from Tyler. I turned away. I couldn’t watch his soul be ripped from its home the way April’s had.

“We need to go,” I said to Sky. “Now.”

I had to be sure that reaper delivered April safely to her eternal home. I had to make sure I hadn’t broken my promise. I thought back to the tortured violet eyes that had burned me with their stare. The pain in them had drawn me so forcefully I’d had to plant my feet against the concrete to keep from moving forward to smooth out the angry lines that marred his face and lend him an ounce of the joy coursing through my veins. I closed my eyes and steeled myself against the intense wave of need washing through me. The need to help him. To heal him of the hurt I could sense swirling inside. I couldn’t think about that right now. Giving in to that kind of connection, with someone like him, was only going to get me into trouble.

Sky grabbed my hand. “You’re just upset because your Romeo and Juliet met an untimely demise. You’ll just have to try again. Don’t worry. This world has enough miserable creatures to keep us busy for an eternity.”

I allowed her to drag me forward, leaving the reaper behind to finish with Tyler, and stepped into the blinding light of the portal she’d opened for us. “It’s not over,” I said. “We need to make sure they find each other.”

Once we were on the other side, the purest light washed away any trace of death and destruction. The lavender-tinged sky rippled with the soft hum of a faraway choir, soothing and soft. I looked across the clearing to the towering golden gates, or rather the dark spot in front of them. It was him… Sky grabbed my arm, trying to get my attention. “Gwen…”

I waved her off and watched a few whispering angels make their way toward the gates to gawk at the reaper cloaked in darkness. I didn’t need her lecture again. Love was a product of the work we did. The kisses, the intimate whispers, the innocent touches that meant more than words could ever express—these were things