The creature
snarled at him before it disappeared back into the restaurant, leaving him with
the unsettling idea that he’d been spared.
He’d never seen
anything like it before, couldn’t hazard a guess about what manner of beast it
was. But he’d seen cunning in those lantern eyes and he couldn’t
mistake the feeling burrowing deep
inside him now. Fear.
Fear. In a reaper.
In his arms,
Roxanne lay bloodied and completely still. Her heart had stopped beating. Her
labored breath had fallen silent. Her skin had chilled.
Dead by any
assessment, right on time.
Except he knew her
lungs would fill again and those startling eyes would open. If he let them.
He’d come to reap
her, after all.
He’d crossed from
the Beyond, breaking the laws of the Otherworld to experience her death on both
planes. He’d fantasized about it, waiting impatiently for the call that her
time had arrived once again.
His plan had been
simple. Fire for them both. End it all with flames that would destroy her human
body at the same time it devoured the one he’d taken. It was easy. Clean.
Irrevocable.
So why didn’t he
act?
Was it because
he’d seen her now with human vision that discerned detail and dimension he’d
never known as a reaper? Vision that perceived nuance and sensitivity?
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