When Death Loved an Angel (7 page)

Chapter Thirteen

DEATH

He finished the rest of the list. When it was completed, he allowed Julia’s name to guide him to her. He found her in the ICU at the hospital on the other side of the city. Her daughter slept in a chair near her mother’s bed, her black hair disheveled and a teddy bear tucked under one arm. It still had a tag in its ear. Someone in the hospital must have taken pity on the little girl and brought her the gift.

Death studied Julia’s monitors, wishing he knew how to read them.

A little voice spoke beside him. “They told me she wasn’t going to make it,” the little girl said. “But I told them
the man in black said he wouldn’t take her. He promised.”

Death
nodded and knelt down on the floor at her eye level, careful to keep just out of reach. “Did they believe you?” he asked gently.

She shook her head, her eyes wide. A smile crossed her face. “But she made it through the surgery even though they said she wouldn’t. I heard the doctors talking. They said it was a miracle.”
She winked at him. “They said it would be another miracle if she made it through the night. We’ll show them, won’t we?”

Death smiled; he couldn’t help himself. Cold, hard, unfeeling Death was moved by the belief of a five year old. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Kenzie Mills.”

“I’m glad you believed me.”

She smiled and her whole face glowed.

He rose. “I’ve got to go now.” She nodded and scooted her chair closer to her mother’s side. Her voice stopped him at the door. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

He hesitated before looking back at her. “What?”

“Your name,” she pressed. “You asked for mine, now you have to tell me yours.”

He debated about what to say. Death had many names and none of them were pleasant. He gave up trying to pick one and settled for the most obvious. “My name is Death.” He watched carefully for her reaction.

“Do you have a last name?” she asked as casually has if he had said his name was Bob.

He shook his head. “I think Death is enough.”

She shrugged. “I guess so. Goodbye, Death.”

“Goodbye, Kenzie Mills.”

She waved and he walked through the door.

***

“It’s been quiet here.”

“Sorry.” Death felt guilty for
his outburst. Returning to the hospital in his human form had taken more courage than he wanted to admit. He sat on the chair with his head bowed. He felt Nyra’s presence, her silence, the compassion that shone in her eyes, the love she felt for Gregan. The thought clenched his heart, causing it to beat hard enough to hurt. He shifted slightly in the seat to ease the discomfort.

“What do you do when you’re not here?”

Nyra’s voice made him lift his head as much as her question. He could listen to her voice forever. His veins sang with it, and when he was out doing Death’s work, he heard her voice in his head, disapproving of his job. He cracked a small smile. “I’m an exterminator.”

“For mice and stuff?” At his evasive shrug, she smiled. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s gotten a lot harder,” he said honestly. He met her beautiful green gaze. “Sometimes it’s hard to kill things.”

She thought about his answer. “I guess someone’s
got to do it, or the world would be overrun.”

A laugh caught in his throat and
turned into a cough. He looked up at her, wondering how she would feel if she really knew what she said. He settled back in the chair and laced his fingers in front of him, vowing to pay better attention to them in case his time living faded faster than he planned because of the names on his arm.

“Nyra, do you like being an angel?”

She laughed, a musical sound like raindrops on a pond. It warmed the air. “Yes,” she said. “I definitely I like it.”

“I guess who wouldn’t enjoy being an angel?” Death mused.

She gave him a curious look. “Do you enjoy being an exterminator?”

He considered the question seriously. “I used to,”
he said, studying his hands. “But not anymore.”

“Why not do something else?” she asked.

He fought back a wry smile. His gaze met hers with unsettling intensity. “I would if I could, but I’m sort of stuck with it.”

“At least you have other things you can do when you’re not exterminating.”

Was that a wistful hint to her voice? Death’s gaze sharpened, but Nyra bowed her head to look at Gregan. Her golden hair hid her expression from view. “I come here,” he said.

She looked up at Death. “You’re a good brother. I’m sure it would mean a lo
t to Gregan to know you’re by his side.”

“I’m sure,”
Death mumbled. At her look, he searched for an explanation, settling on, “We haven’t been exactly close.”

“It seems like that stuff doesn’t matter in situations like these. All that matters is
that you’re here now.”

“You are, too,” Death said. “You’re fighting for his life against Death. What’s that like?”

“He’s different than I thought he’d be,” she admitted.

“Scarier?” he asked, one side of him hoping it was true.
The other side wished with all of his heart that she would say she didn’t fear him like everyone else.

She
avoided appeasing either hope. “Just, well, different.” She crossed to the window.

Death felt his fingers begin to slip. He wanted to stay. It was such a different experience having a normal conversation instead of one laced with fear and pleading. He wished he could talk to Nyra forever. His time of living was fading away. He rose and crossed to the door
, turning the handle before his fingers failed him. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

Nyra turned in surprise. “Already?”

Death nodded. “The life of an exterminator is demanding.”

She smiled a warm smile that ran through his body to the heart that pounded every time their eyes met. He closed his eyes for the briefest moment, holding onto that smile. It was for him, just him. It was the most precious gift anyone had ever given to him, and she gave it freely. He vowed to remember her smile for the length of his existence. He opened his eyes again and met her puzzled look. “Goodnight, Nyra.”

He closed the door behind him feeling lighter. He walked down the hallway and actually waved to the two nurses behind the main desk. He stared at his fading hand, a strange thing to do in the middle of the hospital with nurses watching. As casually as he could manage, he tucked his hand into his pocket and hurried down the hall.

Chapter Fourteen

ANGEL

Nyra stared after the man. He was strange, but he made her smile whenever he walked into the room. His visits were short, but it was obvious how much he cared about his brother. She had never known anyone who was an exterminator before. His job must be demanding to keep him out so often.

When Betsy arrived, Nyra walked down the street. There was nothing she could do in the room and Death never seemed to visit during the early hours of the morning. She looked up at the dark windows that stretched far above her, apartments and businesses with only a few lights on inside.

She wandered without a purpose until something told her to go inside an apartment complex.

She hesitated on the stoop, unsure what she was doing. The feeling felt like the same pressure she had experienced at the intersection. Uncertainty filled her as she stepped through the closed door into the entryway.

The apartment complex was old but maintained. Worn carpet ran up the stairs, but it looked as though it had been vacuumed within the last day or so. She made her way slowly up the stairs, wondering what she would find. The first landing was quiet as the inhabitants of the six apartments caught their last few hours of sleep before dawn.

She continued up to the second floor and heard the unmistakable cry of a newborn baby. The apartment next door to the baby had its television on and she could hear the grumbling of its occupants about the baby that kept them up. Nyra followed the pressure through the door to the apartment.

The baby’s cry intensified. In the first bedroom she found a little boy and a little girl sharing a mattress on the floor. The blanket was tattered but clean, and the serenity of sleep showed on their innocent faces. Smiles grew on their faces as Nyra’s presence brightened their dreams.

Nyra continued past the empty second bedroom with a bed whose blankets were still made and unslept in. A bassinet sat near the head of the bed that was also unoccupied.
Nyra followed the hallway to the shared space that made up the kitchen and living area.

A young woman stood near the window with the crying baby in her arms. She rocked from side to side and sang to it, but the baby continued to cry. When Nyra drew closer, she saw tears on the mother’s cheeks.

“Sleep, little Tanner,” the mother said in a gentle voice. “You need your sleep.” Her voice broke, but she continued to smile down at the crying newborn. “It’s alright, my son. Close your eyes.”

Nyra’s heart went out to the mother. She stood near her, uncertain what she was to do. The baby sounded so tired as it cried as if they had stood there for hours. The young woman swayed gently from side to side in the natural rhythm all mothers shared.

“I don’t understand,” the woman said in her same soft voice. “Mia and Daniel never cried for so long.”

An image showed in Nyra’s mind. She smiled and set a hand on the woman’s arm.

The young mother paused in her swaying. She looked down at her infant as though wondering if such a simple thing could help. She walked over to the couch and set her son in the middle, then unwrapped his blankets. Instead of just wrapping them around him, she followed the instructions Nyra whispered in her ear.

She pulled the corner of the blanket up so that it tucked against the baby’s feet, then nestled the blanket under the baby’s shoulder. She took the left corner and tucked it under the baby’s right side, and did the same to the right corner, wrapping it around the baby’s back. The result was a swaddled
baby, his arms and legs gently nestled within the folds of the blanket.

She picked him up and began rocking again. Within a few minutes, the infant was sound asleep.

The mother stared down at her baby in awe. Gratitude shone on her face as she dried her tears. She held Tanner close and kissed him on his rosy cheek. “I love you,” she whispered softly.

Nyra walked back outside feeling
grateful that she was able to help someone else. It had been so long since she felt such promptings, and never before had she felt them for someone other than Gregan while she was his angel. It wasn’t much, but the fact that she had been able to help two young mothers made her smile all the way back to the hospital.

Chapter Fifteen

DEATH

Death couldn’t help himself. As soon as he opened his eyes, he made his way to the hospital instead of following the new list on his arm. Gregan and Julia’s names burned above the others, but he ignored them. He couldn’t stay away from her. Being around Nyra was like drinking a sweet nectar that filled him with light and hope, things that were very painfully lacking in his life.

Death didn’t have time for such things, and he tried to remind himself of that very fact, but his feet ignored him, insubstantial though they were. He passed through the hospital door and made his way to Gregan’s room.

“Shouldn’t you be destroying lives or whatever it is you do?”

Death fought back a smile that would have looked very out of place amid his shadows and the chill of his cold gray eyes. “Shouldn’t you be singing with a choir somewhere?”

She gasped, then glared at him. “You’re in a good mood.”

He shook his head. “Death is never in a good mood.”

“Do you talk about yourself in third person often?” she pressed, trying to distract him from Gregan.

“I don’t actually talk to people often. You’re the-” he realized what she was doing and paused. A dark chuckle broke from him that sent chills down her arms. “Egging me on to keep my attention from Gregan isn’t going to help him any.”

She stepped in front of him, blocking Death’s path to the bed. He stared at Nyra, amazed at her courage. “You’re being foolish.”

“You don’t have to do this,” she challenged.

“Yes, I do,” he said. On impulse, he pushed his arm from the shadows, showing her the names written upon it.

Her eyes widened as she looked at the names etched in black along his pale skin. Gregan and Julia’s names stood in bold contrast to the others. Nyra reached out a hand. Death drew his arm back.

“Is that the name of the woman you didn’t take?” she asked quietly. “The one under Gregan’s?”

He nodded, his gaze clouded in darkness. “The names get darker every day that I leave them alive.”

“Does it hurt?” she asked in a voice above a whisper.

It did hurt. Gregan’s ached and Julia’s was a dull throb that was stronger than the day before. Death
nodded without answering.

“And the other names?” Nyra asked, her voice timid as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

“They’re my job for the day. The list has to be fulfilled,” Death answered in an emotionless voice.

She watched him, her eyebrows pinched together and emotions swirling in her eyes that Death couldn’t read. One surfaced, startling him with stark clarity. Pity. She pitied him.

He took a step back. He hadn’t come for her pity. He hadn’t shown her the list so she could sympathize with him. He merely showed it to her because, well. . . . He hesitated. He didn’t know why he had shown it to her. He hadn’t shown it to anyone his entire existence. The list was his own, his to keep and his to complete. Why did he show it to her?

“I’ve never left it incomplete before
you stopped me,” he said quietly. His admission surprised him. He took another step back toward the wall, increasing the distance between them for both their sakes.

“I’ve never asked for anyone’s life before,” Nyra replied, her voice as soft as his. “I didn’t think you would let him live.”

Death rubbed the back of his neck but he couldn’t feel it in his form. He let out a breath he hadn’t needed to take. “I’m still not sure it was the right decision.”

“But here we are.” Nyra gestured toward the bed. “You saved his life and the life of the mother.”

He frowned, a terrifying expression on his face. “I didn’t save them. I just prolonged their death.” He shook his head. “I don’t save anyone. I don’t give, I take away. It’s my job. It’s the reason for my existence.”

“You gave me faith again,” Nyra said.

They were the last words he had ever imagined he would hear. He stared at her. She blinked, her eyes bright. “What did you say?” he asked, his voice betraying him with the slightest tremble.

“When Gregan was hit by that drunk driver, I questioned everything I stood for,” Nyra said. She met his gaze and her tears br
oke free. “I wondered why I even existed if I couldn’t prevent something so horrible from happening. He didn’t deserve it. I had failed him.”

The tears on her cheeks begged to be wiped free. Death ached to hold her, to comfort her the way he had seen mothers comfort crying children or husbands soothing the sobs of their wives. He lifted a hand. When he realized
what he was doing, he dropped it back to his side. Darkness swirled around him, reminding him that she was an angel and he was Death.

“When I saw you reaching for him,
my whole world stopped.” Her voice cracked. She pushed on, “Then you hesitated because I asked you to. You left Gregan and the doctors were able to keep his heart going. You made me believe again.”

“In what?” Death didn’t want to ask, but he had to know.

Nyra waved her arm, taking in the room and the world beyond. “That there’s a reason for all of this.”

Death no longer believed her.  “There is no reason,” he said bitterly. “Nothing matters.” His voice lowered into an angry growl. “All of this is for nothing. You believe in your reason
s all you want, but it doesn’t take Gregan’s name off the list, and it doesn’t remove Julia’s.” He met her searching gaze with an angry glare. She didn’t cower. He let out an explosive breath and walked away. Darkness obscured his vision, then he was through the wall.