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Authors: Victoria Richards
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muted, the thought wasn't one she wanted to consider.
Death watched her carefully.
"I see," Death said, as if she'd heard Jacqueline's internal battle. "I see. Very well then. Just remember what I've said."
Death glanced at Matilda.
"Shame about this one," Death said. "I started to mark her earlier, but then decided to wait until I spoke with you. Since you aren't willing to die, a trade must be made. You took a life that wasn't ready. Now I take one to punish you and balance the scales."
"Wait!" Jacqueline cried, knowing what was about to happen.
To her horror, Death curled her hand and with one sweeping motion ripped Matilda's soul free.
"No!" Jacqueline watched as Matilda's essence floated free before dissolving into nothing.
"Take care of yourself, Jacqueline. Be careful with your power. I'll be in touch soon."
With a small nod, Death disappeared.
Chapter 5
Toby poured another glass of whiskey, loosened his tie, and leaned back in his office chair. Taking a long sip, he let the liquid coat his throat, enjoying the slight burn it brought. Any pain was better than what he'd experienced that day.
Matilda's funeral had been long and draining.
Who knew that she had so many friends? And they all wanted to share a personal story or two with him about her. Some he'd heard before. Others were new, but they all conveyed the affection that people felt for his crass, sharp tongued mother.
He sipped again, trying hard to ignore the lump in his throat that he couldn't seem to get rid of. No amount of alcohol would dissolve it and he'd tried. Oh, how he'd tried. Bottle after bottle, glass after glass.
A firm knock on the door got his attention.
"Go away," he grumbled. "Don't feel like talking right now."
There was a buzzing sound outside the door, followed by a pop as Gabe materialized in the room.
"Neat trick." Toby's voice was thick with alcohol and it took every ounce of effort he had to speak clearly. "Something your uncle taught you?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact." Gabe stared at his father, his dark eyes showing Toby far better than any mirror what he looked like right now. His son was disapproving, and that galled Toby.
"What do you want?"
"To talk."
"Not in the mood, right now."
"Tough."
"Tough?" Toby grunted. "Get out."
He drank down the rest of the whiskey and poured another glass.
Undaunted, Gabe sat in the chair opposite Toby.
"Glass," he said, and one appeared in his hand.
"Smooth," Toby sneered. "Bet the ladies love that."
Gabe picked up the bottle and poured himself a drink.
"No one's complained yet," he said.
"Look, I'm not in the mood to bond," Toby said. "I just want to be left alone."
"So Jacqueline told me." Gabe made a face of disgust. "She wasn't too happy."
"What else did she say?"
"That you were being an unbearable asshole and I should go check on you before she decided to burn this fucking bar down." Gabe smiled. "Her words. Not mine."
"She's such a lady."
"Some might call her that."
"You don't like Jacqueline much." Toby peered at his son. "Why?"
"She has too much power."
"She could argue the same about you."
"True." Gabe nodded. "But I think it's something more with her. I think me killing Eric has more to do with her dislike of me than the power I hold."
"And I have to live with you both."
Gabe's eyes narrowed.
"I haven't asked for your help."
"But you need it. Shut up," Toby said as Gabe opened his mouth in denial. "You know it's true. You got no place to go. Your mother's family won't ever accept you."
"And you?" Gabe sipped the whiskey slowly, but Toby could see that the answer was important to his son.
"I've always accepted you. Even when I thought you were dead."
Gabe fell silent, his dark eyes contemplative.
"I just wish I knew what was really going on in that brain of yours. What are your intentions? Will you stay around here antagonizing the woman I love or do you have other ambitions I don't know about? I think that's it. You have plans that you aren't
Death watched her carefully.
"I see," Death said, as if she'd heard Jacqueline's internal battle. "I see. Very well then. Just remember what I've said."
Death glanced at Matilda.
"Shame about this one," Death said. "I started to mark her earlier, but then decided to wait until I spoke with you. Since you aren't willing to die, a trade must be made. You took a life that wasn't ready. Now I take one to punish you and balance the scales."
"Wait!" Jacqueline cried, knowing what was about to happen.
To her horror, Death curled her hand and with one sweeping motion ripped Matilda's soul free.
"No!" Jacqueline watched as Matilda's essence floated free before dissolving into nothing.
"Take care of yourself, Jacqueline. Be careful with your power. I'll be in touch soon."
With a small nod, Death disappeared.
Chapter 5
Toby poured another glass of whiskey, loosened his tie, and leaned back in his office chair. Taking a long sip, he let the liquid coat his throat, enjoying the slight burn it brought. Any pain was better than what he'd experienced that day.
Matilda's funeral had been long and draining.
Who knew that she had so many friends? And they all wanted to share a personal story or two with him about her. Some he'd heard before. Others were new, but they all conveyed the affection that people felt for his crass, sharp tongued mother.
He sipped again, trying hard to ignore the lump in his throat that he couldn't seem to get rid of. No amount of alcohol would dissolve it and he'd tried. Oh, how he'd tried. Bottle after bottle, glass after glass.
A firm knock on the door got his attention.
"Go away," he grumbled. "Don't feel like talking right now."
There was a buzzing sound outside the door, followed by a pop as Gabe materialized in the room.
"Neat trick." Toby's voice was thick with alcohol and it took every ounce of effort he had to speak clearly. "Something your uncle taught you?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact." Gabe stared at his father, his dark eyes showing Toby far better than any mirror what he looked like right now. His son was disapproving, and that galled Toby.
"What do you want?"
"To talk."
"Not in the mood, right now."
"Tough."
"Tough?" Toby grunted. "Get out."
He drank down the rest of the whiskey and poured another glass.
Undaunted, Gabe sat in the chair opposite Toby.
"Glass," he said, and one appeared in his hand.
"Smooth," Toby sneered. "Bet the ladies love that."
Gabe picked up the bottle and poured himself a drink.
"No one's complained yet," he said.
"Look, I'm not in the mood to bond," Toby said. "I just want to be left alone."
"So Jacqueline told me." Gabe made a face of disgust. "She wasn't too happy."
"What else did she say?"
"That you were being an unbearable asshole and I should go check on you before she decided to burn this fucking bar down." Gabe smiled. "Her words. Not mine."
"She's such a lady."
"Some might call her that."
"You don't like Jacqueline much." Toby peered at his son. "Why?"
"She has too much power."
"She could argue the same about you."
"True." Gabe nodded. "But I think it's something more with her. I think me killing Eric has more to do with her dislike of me than the power I hold."
"And I have to live with you both."
Gabe's eyes narrowed.
"I haven't asked for your help."
"But you need it. Shut up," Toby said as Gabe opened his mouth in denial. "You know it's true. You got no place to go. Your mother's family won't ever accept you."
"And you?" Gabe sipped the whiskey slowly, but Toby could see that the answer was important to his son.
"I've always accepted you. Even when I thought you were dead."
Gabe fell silent, his dark eyes contemplative.
"I just wish I knew what was really going on in that brain of yours. What are your intentions? Will you stay around here antagonizing the woman I love or do you have other ambitions I don't know about? I think that's it. You have plans that you aren't
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