Page 7 of Death Wish

“What? That wasn’t a curse,” I protested. “I learned my lesson after last time.”

“Can you believe it, Simon? Something stuck.” Azrael’s tone teetered on a sharp edge of amused and annoyed.

Simon didn’t move. His rigidness was making me even more uncomfortable, like I had missed something very important before coming.

I glanced around nervously.

Azrael shifted, resting both his elbows on his knees so that he could lean closer to me. “This sorcerer may have been a dirtbag, as you call him, but he was still a soul in our care, Jade. One you beat up before throwing through a spirit door. Am I correct?”

Another trick question, but I knew better than to answer this one.

He sighed and pulled himself up to stand. Pacing across the ornate rug, he continued. “That kind of behavior doesn’t look good for us. Just last month you were refusing to cross over the shifter boy in a coma—”

“Dillion Leon Hendrickson,” I added.

Azrael waved away my comment. “Yes, that one. Henderson.”

Picking at my fingernails, I resisted the urge to correct his mistake again. I had an uncanny knack for remembering every person I’d ever been assigned. But even if I didn’t, I’d never forget Dillion. He was a hard one to forget. At only five years old, he and his mother had been in a major car accident. His mother had escaped with just a broken femur and a few bruises, but poor Dillion had been left in critical condition. According to his profile’s bio, his body wasn’t reacting to any of the treatments.

I had walked into the hospital with his mother sitting in her wheelchair beside the bed, sobbing. How could I not feel sympathy for her? She was losing her child.

All I had done was whisper some words of encouragement to him. Told him his mother needed him to get better. To my surprise, the boy woke.

Was it a miracle? Seemed like it to me.

Of course, all cases weren’t like that. Dillion had been special. I doubted my words had done anything to help him at all, but from Azrael’s fury later that day when I had been called into his office, I’d obviously done something wrong. Even when I’d tried to argue it was a good thing—the little boy had survived after all—he didn’t want to hear it. Something about protocol, questioning his authority, judgement, and all that. Honestly, I hadn’t paid attention.

“My point is that one week you’re ignoring your orders, which in turn allows an assignment to live, and today you’re assaulting another. Is there no middle ground with you?” Azrael asked, pulling me back to the conversation at hand.

I couldn’t ignore his use of the term “assignment” instead of little Dillion’s or Tristen’s names. To Azrael, even to Simon, they weren’t people. They were duties, a job. That’s all. Simon had told me once that it would be easier for me if I disconnected myself emotionally. How to do that? Stop thinking of them as living beings and focus on the job. Go in, do it, and get out. That’s it.

It had never been that easy for me. And I’d tried. Oh, how I’d tried.

“Did you even read his profile?” Simon chimed in finally. “Did you read all details before carrying out the job? Educate yourself fully on the assignment? Like I taught you? Do you remember any of that?”

I hesitated, wondering if I should lie this time or not. “Uh… I read most of it.”

“How about the part saying he had been arrested over eight times for assaulting women, serving jail time for attempted murder and leaving one in the hospital unconscious?” Simon asked, his voice rising in desperation. “Did you read any of that?”

Dammit. I really should have read the bio. “I must have missed that part…”

Simon’s frown deepened.

Azrael rolled his shoulders and tried to blow out a calming breath, but aggravation still hung on to his expression. “You didn’t know this, Jade, but Simon has been pushing me to give you some harder cases. He was convinced you were ready. I, on the other hand, was more apprehensive. With good reason. You can’t even handle the easy assignments.”

“Easy?” I almost choked on the word. Was he kidding? “Tristen tried to choke me. How was he supposed to be an easy assignment?”

“Easier as in ‘with a less than clean record,’” Azrael said. “To ease your conscience some when you had to deliver the touch. My thought was maybe with a quote-unquote dirtbag, you’d feel a little less guilty when performing your job.”

I mentally slapped myself. Simon had been trying to help me behind the scenes; he believed I was better than this, and I’d rewarded him by screwing up royally.

Guilt whirled inside me. He had been an excellent mentor. The fault lay with me. I was the worst apprentice ever.

An apology hovered on my tongue, but before I could say anything, Azrael crossed the room to stand beside Simon.

He clasped a hand on his shoulder and said, “Obviously, something has gone wrong in your training. Simon hasn’t done an adequate enough job preparing you for what being a reaper entailed. It’s looking like I may have to Release him.”

Release? I balked. That wasn’t what I had expected at all.

---