Becoming Death (20 page)

I wondered if I’d be able to ever tell Aaron what my family could do. That I took people’s souls and made sure death would come for them. I felt like a dog marking my territory each time I touched someone. I belong here, you don’t. It was a relief to finally touch someone I loved and to be able to see him living and breathing the next day. I had enough to worry about and didn’t need any more drama or death in my life.

I stood up from the bed, careful not to disturb him. I pushed away his hair and kissed him on his forehead before I walked to my bedroom to change.

I hadn’t checked my app for a few hours, and my phone beckoned me as soon as I walked back into my room. Oh, what the hell. I turned on my phone and lay down on my bed. I knew I would have to check the Dead Head app eventually. It was only a matter of time before I had my next client. I needed to be strong and face my next challenge head on as soon as possible. I was still upset over the death of baby Lily, but I knew it was pointless to try to ignore my calling. I’d only be punished again for misbehaving.

I watched the new client message appear on the screen and I quickly pressed the link to my next victim’s information. As the picture loaded, I dropped my phone on the bed and scrambled away from it. I fell to the floor in a heap. I gasped for air. It couldn’t be real. Death couldn’t be testing me again. I had to be hallucinating or still asleep. I pinched my arm and was met with pain. Death couldn’t ask me to do this. I wouldn’t be strong enough. I didn’t need another test.

I imagined a million other people I’d rather see on that screen as I untangled my limbs and reached for my device again. My eyes skimmed over the name and information a thousand times in a single second. I felt faint, nauseous and wanted to disappear at the same time. This couldn’t be right. I couldn’t be tested this much so quickly into my career as a grim reaper. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t handle all the death and depression that went along with this role. My eyes refused to blink. I couldn’t move away from the screen. Fate had sent me a great big
screw you
in the form of a name on my screen: Aaron Rodriguez.

My first reaction once I regained movement was to throw my phone against the wall. It shattered into chucks of glass and metal. I wouldn’t do it. Death couldn’t make me kill him. What kind of sick joke was this shit? I couldn’t kill Aaron. He was the only person that mattered outside my family and I loved him. I felt the pain of Juliet and every other tragic heroine that had lost their loves in my heart. I couldn’t take the soul of someone I loved. I sat on the floor and curled into a ball as I shook.

Aaron ran from his bedroom to find me on the floor. “I heard a crash—are you okay?” He pointed at the pieces of my phone scattered in the floor. “Did you break something?”

I held a fist against my chest as he spoke.

“Mads, are you okay?” He reached out to touch me.

I jumped away and cowered next to my bed. I couldn’t let him touch me. I’d kill him, like I had with Cindy. “Aaron, stay away from me.”

Aaron pulled his hand back like my words had burned him. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

My fight-or-flight response begged me to run away, escape, get away from here, but I pulled my legs in tighter. Tears fell down my face as I mumbled, “Please, you have to stay away from me.”

Aaron ran a jerky hand through his hair and held his lips tightly together. “Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. There was no way to explain my behavior.

“Whatever happened, I’m sorry. Just tell me what I did and I’ll fix it. I promise,” he pleaded with me, lowering himself to the floor.

He watched me for a few moments, waiting for a sign. He reached a hand towards me and I pulled a pillow from the bed and flung it in his direction.

“Aaron, please, don’t touch me. Please just go away,” I whispered.

He wiped the back of his hand against his eyes and stood up. His voice cracked as he said, “What's wrong with you?” He didn't wait for an answer. He walked away from me, out of the room and slammed his bedroom door.

I crawled towards the door, making sure he was gone before I stood up. I kicked the pieces of my broken phone into the corner of the room. It was a lost cause. I needed help, advice, a loophole. I flung open my drawers and threw on the first clothes I came across. I had to get out the apartment before he came out again. One touch and he was dead. I couldn’t risk being in the same room with him or seeing the pain in his eyes right now. Death was cruel. How could he have decided to take Aaron like this?

I suddenly remembered how much we had touched last night. Was there a chance I had already made a fatal mistake? I felt like I was in a horror movie, where unlucky fornication could equal death. I thought back carefully. I didn’t remember feeling any of the normal signs of marking a person for death, no chills down the spine or a flood of memories. I would never be able to forgive myself if during our first time I had accidentally killed him.

I paused at my door, reached into my winter coat on the hook and pulled on a pair of gloves. Although it was spring, the gloves would protect Aaron from my deadly fingers. He’d need as much protection from me as he could get.

I glanced back at Aaron’s room one more time before running out of the apartment. I had to get to my mother and find out if there was anyway around this. There had to be some way to protect Aaron from my touch, and if there was I was sure my mother would tell me, no matter what some stupid rule book tried to say.

I pulled into my mother’s driveway so quickly I had to pull the emergency brake to avoid hitting her garage. I was furious. I wanted to find whoever had sent me these stupid messages and take their soul. I would imagine the worst death possible for that person and make sure it happened. My hands shook as I knocked on my mother’s door. When my mother answered, I didn’t even bother saying hello and pushed past her to the trunk hidden in the living room. If there were answers on how to save Aaron, that would be the most logical place to find them.

My mother clutched her hand to her chest and scoffed before following me. “Madison, what are you doing?” she asked, watching me kneel down and begin to pull at the floorboards.

“I won’t do it!” I shouted at whatever cruel fate had decided my life didn’t suck enough so far.

My mother grabbed my hands just as I was about lift a piece of wood. “Darling, what’s the matter?” I dropped my grip on the board and fell forwards into my mother’s arms. “The app… it…”

My mother rubbed my back. “Madison, I can’t help you unless I know what is the matter.”

I rubbed my face. It was sticky with dried tears. “Death wants me to kill… Aaron. I won’t do it.”

My mother hugged me tighter against her chest. She stiffened but didn’t cry. “I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing you can do, Madison. If you touch him or he touches you, that is it. There’s no way out of it.”

I pulled away. “No, Mom. I won’t touch him. I think I love him. I won’t kill him. No one can make me do it, not even Death.”

My mother shook her head. “Madison, it’s your responsibility.” The words sounded cold, and in that moment I hated my mother.

I threw my hands in the air. “Death can’t make me and neither can you. I’ll just stay away from him, protect him from me.”

“Darling, please. You have to,” my mother said. “It’s your fate to be the one who takes his soul, and if you don’t you’ll die
permanently
instead.”

“How do you know I will? I might not. Maybe Death will change his mind, and Aaron and I might live to a ripe old age together,” I said, pacing around the room.

My mother crossed her arms and rubbed her forearm. “I told you what happens if you don’t mark him. My brother died within two weeks of not taking a soul,” my mother said. “He was in pain every moment of those two weeks before he finally gave up. I can’t let that happen to you.”

“Maybe Uncle Harry was just unlucky. It might just be a lie to make us conform. It might not happen to all grim reapers,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

My mother screamed at me, “You want to test that theory by not taking Aaron’s soul? If you’re wrong, you’ll die painfully. Please, Madison, don’t do this to yourself, to me. I don’t want to watch you be tortured.”

“Aaron will die if I do what you want. He’s got a target on his back and doesn’t even know it. What makes me so special? Why should I get a reprieve?” I said.

“If you don’t take his soul, Death will choose another reaper to do it. They will probably be more willing,” my mother told me. “I won’t let you waste your life for a boy.”

“A boy! Aaron just isn’t some guy. That boy has been my friend since I was a child. He grew up in our house. He’s practically your son. That boy is my best friend and the man I love. I think it’s worth the risk. I’m not killing him. Either you help me find a way for him to live, or I avoid him until enough time has passed and I die instead. Is that what you want, Mom?”

My mother sat down on the sofa. “I can’t believe this is happening. You know we both care about Aaron but this is a serious choice. Maybe you aren’t old enough to make this kind of decision on your own.”

I scowled at my mother. “To hell with that. Who are you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do? As far as I can see, you always do whatever Death tells you to and never question it. If you were in the same situation as me, you’d just give up.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about,” my mother corrected me.

“Sure I do, Mom. You’re a heartless monster that just kills without thinking. I never want to be like you.”

My mother stood up and pushed me down on the sofa. She arched over me. Her eyes narrowed and she looked more angry then I had ever seen her. “Madison, there’s something you should know before you call me a heartless monster.”

“Mom?” I asked.

“Death made me kill your father,” my mother said, her words stinging my chest. “I didn’t have a choice, but I did what I had to.”

I shot up, snarling at her like a wild animal. “You killed Dad? He was your husband. I was right, you are a monster!”

I tried to run out the front door but my mother caught my arm. “Don’t you think it hurt me, Madison? It’s the same situation as you and Aaron.”

I turned towards her. “Why would you kill your husband, Mom? Did you love him at all?”

“I had no choice. There is no way around not killing a loved one, no loophole, no way to beg Death to leave them alone. You have to believe me—I looked for days before I took your father’s soul. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t leave you and your sister alone.”

I hung my head. “How can there but no way around this? Isn’t there someone we can contact and explain the situation to? I’m sure if I told them how important Aaron is to me, they wouldn’t make me do this.”

My mother took my hand. “I’m afraid not. There is no one we can talk to, and they wouldn’t change their minds anyway. Death’s decision is always final. There are no do-overs. There is only one way I know of to save Aaron… but it will never work.”

“So there
is
a loophole? I’ll make it work. Just tell me what I have to do and I will get it done,” I told her.

My mother went to the bookshelf and removed her copy of the handbook. She flipped through the pages and handed it to me.

“If a human can identify a grim reaper they will strip the reaper of their powers and gain a reprieve from death.”

She sucked on her bottom lip. “You need to get Aaron to figure out you are a grim reaper before he dies. That’s the only way to save him. You’d lose your grim reaper abilities and go back to being a normal girl again.”

“And the down side to that is?” I asked.

“I’m afraid, although it’s in the grim reaper handbook, it's a legend. No one has ever managed to do it. I tried so hard with your father but he never understood.”

“What do you mean? It sounds so simple to me. I go up to Aaron give him a few hints and I’m sure he’ll guess. Once he says I’m a grim reaper, Death loses and we win.”

“Madison, do you ever pay attention when I talk? I told you already, you can’t tell Aaron you’re a grim reaper. If you try to hint anything about it the words will refuse come out, and if you try to write it you will lose control of your muscles. It is an impossible task—that’s why there is such a huge reward for the victim,” my mother said.