Beside him, Roxanne’s head lolled to the side.
He’d come to reap her.
He meant to do it still. Even now the reaper inside him felt tight with excitement, imagining her fear, treasuring her pain. But something had soured the pleasure he’d anticipated.
No, not something. Someone. Santo Castillo. Perhaps if he hadn’t taken Santo before his natural death, it would have been different. But in his effort to preserve the vessel, he’d inadvertently saved pieces of the man. And now those pieces bobbed in his bloodstream, pulsed through his heart. Sentiment. Memories. Convictions. Despair. Emotions. . . like grit beneath his skin.
And somehow that terrible miasma of emotion had mated with his own objective. Roxanne. Like a hook sunk deep in his cheek, the crippling feelings tried to steer him from his goal, the vestiges of Santo at the reins. Santo had been unable to save his wife, whose death had crippled and finally stolen his own desire to live. But this woman, Roxanne, he could help. This woman he thought he could save.
From Death himself.
The reaper clenched his jaw and shook his head. No.
He had come to reap her.
Buy THE FIVE DEATHS OF ROXANNE LOVE now: