thathe didn’t know what to say. He’d thought there would be more time before he had to explain. Time to dice the information and dole out only the bits he thought vital.
No, that wasn’t true. He hadn’t expected to explain at all. He was a reaper. He didn’t give explanations. He came. He took. He left.
But now that he’d held her in his arms and sampled the feast that humans called life, everything had changed. He’d changed.
He didn’t like it. He didn’t want to become something new. Yet he sensed that he would do everything possible to have more of her. He’d been changing with each ticking second, and now the deceptive grip that Santo seemed to have on the reaper morphed into a full embrace and the floodgates that kept him separate eroded completely. His identity, already abraded by Santo’s, roiled and twisted in the flotsam until even he couldn’t determine where one ended and the other began. The line of demarcation between the two vanished in the torrent. In the beginning he’d had one single goal. Reap Roxanne Love. Now he only wanted to finish what they’d begun in this room.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, willing her to give him a sign of how to proceed. She kept her eyes averted and shook her head.
“I wish I’d called in sick last night,” she muttered.
And never met him? Is that what she meant? Heswallowed, hating the hurt that coiled in his gut. At last she looked up. Her eyes looked huge and anxious in her drawn face.
“Are you really from this Beyond place, Santo?”
He nodded, wishing for the first time that his answer was different. Would she be repulsed by him now?
“And what does that mean, exactly? What does that make you? You’re not a monster, like the others?”
It tore a hole through him that her voice lilted in question at the end. Was he a monster? Was he worse than a monster? He was death, the end of all things. The fire that incinerated them, the ash that blew away.
He chose his words like footsteps near quicksand. “More than demons live in the Beyond, angelita. ”
“Heaven, hell, and everything in between,” she parroted his words, eyeing him cautiously.
Did she expect him to sprout fangs and claws?
“So if you’re here to help me . . . If you were sent to protect me . . . Does that mean you’re like an angel?”
He’d been braced for the worst, certain she’d see the grim reaper just beneath Santo’s skin. But he should have known she’d find a more acceptable explanation. Hadn’t she told him that faced with something they didn’t understand, humans saw what they wanted to see? And she wanted an angel watching over her. Not death breathing down her neck.
An angel. She thought he was a fucking angel.
“Is that what you are?” she asked again and now a note of hope filled her voice. “An angel?”
At once appalled and relieved, he stared back and answered the only way he could. He lied. “Yes.”
She gave a faint laugh. “An angel from Flagstaff.”
It just got crazier by the second. The smile he forced felt wooden. “What is it with you and Flagstaff, Roxanne?”
“I don’t know,” she said with another small laugh. “I just never pictured it being a mecca of the supernatural.”
He shrugged, seeing Santo’s memories, his impressions of the wholesome mountainous city where he’d grown up. She had a point.
From outside, another chilling howl drifted across the miles. Was it coming closer or moving away? The desert warped the sound so he couldn’t tell. But he could guess. Roxanne gave the curtained window a worried look.
“What do they want?” she asked.
“I don’t know. They let you go last night. I don’t think they knew who you are.”
“And now they do?”
“It would seem so.” He took a deep breath and pushed on. “I get that you don’t want to face it, but the fact is, there are demons coming for you. Somehow, your brother is involved with them. Now so are you. You can’t pretend they
No, that wasn’t true. He hadn’t expected to explain at all. He was a reaper. He didn’t give explanations. He came. He took. He left.
But now that he’d held her in his arms and sampled the feast that humans called life, everything had changed. He’d changed.
He didn’t like it. He didn’t want to become something new. Yet he sensed that he would do everything possible to have more of her. He’d been changing with each ticking second, and now the deceptive grip that Santo seemed to have on the reaper morphed into a full embrace and the floodgates that kept him separate eroded completely. His identity, already abraded by Santo’s, roiled and twisted in the flotsam until even he couldn’t determine where one ended and the other began. The line of demarcation between the two vanished in the torrent. In the beginning he’d had one single goal. Reap Roxanne Love. Now he only wanted to finish what they’d begun in this room.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, willing her to give him a sign of how to proceed. She kept her eyes averted and shook her head.
“I wish I’d called in sick last night,” she muttered.
And never met him? Is that what she meant? Heswallowed, hating the hurt that coiled in his gut. At last she looked up. Her eyes looked huge and anxious in her drawn face.
“Are you really from this Beyond place, Santo?”
He nodded, wishing for the first time that his answer was different. Would she be repulsed by him now?
“And what does that mean, exactly? What does that make you? You’re not a monster, like the others?”
It tore a hole through him that her voice lilted in question at the end. Was he a monster? Was he worse than a monster? He was death, the end of all things. The fire that incinerated them, the ash that blew away.
He chose his words like footsteps near quicksand. “More than demons live in the Beyond, angelita. ”
“Heaven, hell, and everything in between,” she parroted his words, eyeing him cautiously.
Did she expect him to sprout fangs and claws?
“So if you’re here to help me . . . If you were sent to protect me . . . Does that mean you’re like an angel?”
He’d been braced for the worst, certain she’d see the grim reaper just beneath Santo’s skin. But he should have known she’d find a more acceptable explanation. Hadn’t she told him that faced with something they didn’t understand, humans saw what they wanted to see? And she wanted an angel watching over her. Not death breathing down her neck.
An angel. She thought he was a fucking angel.
“Is that what you are?” she asked again and now a note of hope filled her voice. “An angel?”
At once appalled and relieved, he stared back and answered the only way he could. He lied. “Yes.”
She gave a faint laugh. “An angel from Flagstaff.”
It just got crazier by the second. The smile he forced felt wooden. “What is it with you and Flagstaff, Roxanne?”
“I don’t know,” she said with another small laugh. “I just never pictured it being a mecca of the supernatural.”
He shrugged, seeing Santo’s memories, his impressions of the wholesome mountainous city where he’d grown up. She had a point.
From outside, another chilling howl drifted across the miles. Was it coming closer or moving away? The desert warped the sound so he couldn’t tell. But he could guess. Roxanne gave the curtained window a worried look.
“What do they want?” she asked.
“I don’t know. They let you go last night. I don’t think they knew who you are.”
“And now they do?”
“It would seem so.” He took a deep breath and pushed on. “I get that you don’t want to face it, but the fact is, there are demons coming for you. Somehow, your brother is involved with them. Now so are you. You can’t pretend they
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