Page 5 of A Soul to Steal

He remembered his death, like it was only yesterday. Then again, itwasonly yesterday to him when, in reality, it’d been eight years!

Eight years, and the world moved on without him as if he hadn’t mattered at all. Like Gideon’s existence was unimportant in the flow of time.

He eventually relaxed in Aleron’s hold, his thoughts turning remorseful.That’s not true. Emerie... she missed me. She must have suffered so much since that night.A fuzziness assaulted his sinuses, as if the urge to cry tickled his face. He quickly hardened his expression and stemmed any liquid from escaping his eyes.She lost me, our parents, her face... her beautiful, pretty face – all in one night.

All because of some fuckwit of a guy who didn’t know how to keep her safe. What good is a partner if they won’t make you see sense in order to keep you alive?

Instead, Declan, the limp noodle of a man, barely in his twenties, had let Emerie out of his house like an unprotected baby bird. In the middle of the damn night. Fewer instances of Demons in the southland region made people complacent and stupid.

And that’s what caused... everything.

Not only did Gideon have to digest he’d died that night, but he’d learnt how much Emerie had suffered in only a few words. Just looking upon her showed the scars she’d physically endured, but the lack of sweet innocence and naivety in her gaze was what truly crushed him.

His little sister, no matter that she wasn’t blood-related, was one of the most important people to Gideon. And, because of herown silliness and Declan’s stupidity, it’d ended lives and broken one of the sweetest people he’d ever known.

Sure, she alsousedto have a horrible, snarky temper. He knew what her final unpleasant words to him were; she’d told him to fuck off in front of their home. Apparently, he’d been ‘meddling’ in her affairs, but he’d been so angry that she was acting foolishly – childishly even.

I can’t imagine how much that must have weighed on her.

And yet, his fears had been proven right.

Of course the winged Demon who had swept Emerie off her feet had some part to blame in all this.

Gideon could still remember jumping for her legs, tearing at her dress to keep her on the ground just after they’d been arguing. Her scream would likely have given him nightmares here in the afterlife, but the pain he recalled would be something he could never,everforget.

After he fumbled and swiped his dagger from his belt, he’d stabbed it into the Demon’s thigh to make it let go of her. It’d given up on Emerie. Instead, making Gideon its target.

He touched his abdomen, and through the light material shirt, the horrible, raised scars marring him abraded his fingertips.

From the right side of his chest to his left hip were four long claw marks. The second swipe, which spanned in the opposite direction, was shorter yet deeper in its scarring. Gideon remembered very little after that, except maybe some of his internal organs slipping out of him right as his heart gave out.

He hadn’t lived long enough to be flown past the town’s protective walls.

He didn’t even see his home had been on fire, with his adoptive parents – Emerie’s parents – still inside it.

Part of him wanted to blame her, but it was hard to. It happened, and nothing they did could change it. He wouldn’ttorment himself or taint his memory of his little sister – who was technically his older sibling now.

She’s twenty-seven while I’m stuck at twenty-three.His expression turned into a grimace.And what about Beau? Fuck! Beau would have been devastated.

Tears welled in his eyes, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to stem them this time. Beau Parker had been one of the most cherished people in his life, other than his parents and Emerie, of course.

Knowing that Beau would have suffered immense grief and loss at Gideon’s death was almost impossible to bear. Gideon also, just now, had to grieve the loss of a future.

I was going to ask him to marry me that coming autumn. We were going to start a family together, adopt a bunch of kids from the poor side of Fishket. I wanted us to buy our own house, and I would watch him cook for me every night after we both worked throughout the day.

His future, his life, and all the people he loved had been taken away from him.

Despite the constricting hold, he grew thankful the Duskwalker gave him time to process everything he’d lost. In some ways, it was comforting to have someone or something steadying him through this. It was nice to not be alone as he digested the finality of his life. He’d become obsolete, and his existence consisted of the nothingness of this weird, freakish afterlife he found himself in.

Quietly staring at the grass, he noticed it had the strangest blue tinge to it, once more solidifying he wasn’t on Earth.

He was also thankful the monster clutching him didn’t seem to notice the emotional anguish Gideon was currently going through. Or maybe Aleron just didn’t care about his pain, which was actually rather rude and hurtful when he thought about it.

The least he could do was give Gideon a reassuring head pat in sympathy or something.

However, as time passed, the hold loosened until he was able to bring his arm back down. He shoved the pads of his thumbs and fingers into his closed eyes, wishing the pressure would stop the tears of internal agony from falling.

Why is it possible to cry in the afterlife?Why could he feel pain in his chest and gut? Why did his face tingle and feel warm? What use was there in feeling these things when he was dead and, thus, inconsequential?

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