of hair back from her forehead. “So, you’re a reaper as in, Grim Reaper?”
A grin played over his full lips. “I can’t say I’m fond of that adjective. Grim. Sounds sort of...repugnant. I’m just a reaper. Plain and simple.”
“Plain and simple? A reaper is plain and simple?” She shook her head, stalking away from him, then back. “You’re telling me you’re death ? You take people’s souls? You’re a killer?”
He scowled. “A killer? Absolutely not. I’m not a killer.”
“Well, pardon me. Then why don’t you tell me how the hell this works.”
“It’s very complicated. There are rules and procedures—”
“Oh, so it’s like a job? You mean your job is to reap ?” A bubble of hysteria worked its way up to her throat.
Was she really having this conversation? Had this guy actually just told her he was a reaper? Then again, would a ghost or a demon or whatever else she’d imagined be any easier to believe? Could this really be happening?
Wait. Maybe it wasn’t happening. Maybe she’d died the night of the beating, and she couldn’t move on because she hadn’t accepted it yet. Maybe nothing that happened since then had been real. Her body sagged with the realization.
He reached out as if to grab her, but let his hands fall.
“Am I dead?” she choked.
He frowned and shook his head. “No. No, you’re not dead.”
“I didn’t die the night of the beating?”
“No. You survived.”
A chill went over her flesh that was only partly due to the bite of the frigid air. She pulled her jacket more tightly around her. “Then why can I see you? What has happened to me?”
His shoulders lifted, then fell. “Certain people are more attuned than others. They have some extra sense that allows them to see us.”
“But why haven’t I seen you before?”
“You wouldn’t, until you had a near death experience.”
She was aware of people passing, hurrying through the cold night to their cars, paying her little mind, but she still kept her voice low. “What?”
“When you were beaten in the alley, you almost died. You were conscious long enough to become aware of our presence. That, combined with your...gift...made you able to see us.”
“This is all so craz— Wait. Us?” She squeezed her eyes shut. “The blond. You were both there that night.” She looked up at him. “You were trying to take me.”
“Yes, he’s a reaper, too. No, I wasn’t trying to take you, he was.”
“But you said, I got here first , or something...” She concentrated, trying to remember the details, what was said. But she’d been delirious, or thought she was. Now she didn’t know what the hell she’d been.
“Right. I got there first, so he couldn’t take you.”
She rubbed her hand across her forehead. Her head was starting to hurt, a dull, throbbing pain. She was so confused, so utterly baffled.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. She raised her head to gaze at Dimitri, a smile forming on her lips. She was an idiot, a complete fool. Someone was playing a practical joke on her. What evidence did she have that this wasn’t just some guy one of her friends or co-workers had put up to screwing with her? Most of the odd visions she’d had of him were when she’d been out of it from pain or medication, or both. It would be easy to screw with her under those conditions.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked, his tone wary.
“You’re not a reaper, not a ghost, not a dark angel, or anything of the sort. You’re just some asshole who’s screwing with me.”
“What?”
“You’re just a man. This has all been some kind of joke.”
He frowned, considering for a moment as if waging an internal battle, then said, “No. I wish that were the case. I’d like to let you believe that, but the truth is out. Gaylen’s not going to leave you alone. I have to make you understand the facts.”
She chortled. “Right. You and the blond are a couple of reapers.” She turned to leave. “I’m
A grin played over his full lips. “I can’t say I’m fond of that adjective. Grim. Sounds sort of...repugnant. I’m just a reaper. Plain and simple.”
“Plain and simple? A reaper is plain and simple?” She shook her head, stalking away from him, then back. “You’re telling me you’re death ? You take people’s souls? You’re a killer?”
He scowled. “A killer? Absolutely not. I’m not a killer.”
“Well, pardon me. Then why don’t you tell me how the hell this works.”
“It’s very complicated. There are rules and procedures—”
“Oh, so it’s like a job? You mean your job is to reap ?” A bubble of hysteria worked its way up to her throat.
Was she really having this conversation? Had this guy actually just told her he was a reaper? Then again, would a ghost or a demon or whatever else she’d imagined be any easier to believe? Could this really be happening?
Wait. Maybe it wasn’t happening. Maybe she’d died the night of the beating, and she couldn’t move on because she hadn’t accepted it yet. Maybe nothing that happened since then had been real. Her body sagged with the realization.
He reached out as if to grab her, but let his hands fall.
“Am I dead?” she choked.
He frowned and shook his head. “No. No, you’re not dead.”
“I didn’t die the night of the beating?”
“No. You survived.”
A chill went over her flesh that was only partly due to the bite of the frigid air. She pulled her jacket more tightly around her. “Then why can I see you? What has happened to me?”
His shoulders lifted, then fell. “Certain people are more attuned than others. They have some extra sense that allows them to see us.”
“But why haven’t I seen you before?”
“You wouldn’t, until you had a near death experience.”
She was aware of people passing, hurrying through the cold night to their cars, paying her little mind, but she still kept her voice low. “What?”
“When you were beaten in the alley, you almost died. You were conscious long enough to become aware of our presence. That, combined with your...gift...made you able to see us.”
“This is all so craz— Wait. Us?” She squeezed her eyes shut. “The blond. You were both there that night.” She looked up at him. “You were trying to take me.”
“Yes, he’s a reaper, too. No, I wasn’t trying to take you, he was.”
“But you said, I got here first , or something...” She concentrated, trying to remember the details, what was said. But she’d been delirious, or thought she was. Now she didn’t know what the hell she’d been.
“Right. I got there first, so he couldn’t take you.”
She rubbed her hand across her forehead. Her head was starting to hurt, a dull, throbbing pain. She was so confused, so utterly baffled.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. She raised her head to gaze at Dimitri, a smile forming on her lips. She was an idiot, a complete fool. Someone was playing a practical joke on her. What evidence did she have that this wasn’t just some guy one of her friends or co-workers had put up to screwing with her? Most of the odd visions she’d had of him were when she’d been out of it from pain or medication, or both. It would be easy to screw with her under those conditions.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked, his tone wary.
“You’re not a reaper, not a ghost, not a dark angel, or anything of the sort. You’re just some asshole who’s screwing with me.”
“What?”
“You’re just a man. This has all been some kind of joke.”
He frowned, considering for a moment as if waging an internal battle, then said, “No. I wish that were the case. I’d like to let you believe that, but the truth is out. Gaylen’s not going to leave you alone. I have to make you understand the facts.”
She chortled. “Right. You and the blond are a couple of reapers.” She turned to leave. “I’m
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