Page 4 of A Waltz with Lord Death
Keeping his eyes forward as he searched each face for a spark of otherworldly light, he answered, “Since Barret’s death. If Lord Life can no longer balance my power, then I must restrain myself.” Yet, his shadow hounds grew restless, an energy growing in them that even he had a difficult time reining in. But either he used his power, or it would use him.
“You can kiss me,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “I’ll be your Lady Life.”
He snorted in amusement before a deep melancholy stole over his heart. Barret likely would have growled at her flirtation with him and taken Betha by the waist, saying something like, “Not a chance, my love. You are mine.” And then Death would have watched as they laughed and squealed and kissed. Their love had been true, deeper than any he’d witnessed before. And just like that, Barret was gone.
“Then there would be no Lady Time.”
“I was growing bored of my power anyway.”
He tipped his head to give her a disbelieving stare. No one loved flaunting their power more than Betha. “If you would just reverse time, we can prevent Barret from getting bested by that mortal.” His thoughts turned to his friend lying in a state darker than death itself, his power stripped of him, his immortality withering away. He was more dead than a dead man in the otherworld.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.” The pain of heartache passed across her face. “I am not powerful enough to reverse so much time. I can do a minute at best when I have to apply my power to the entire world. Trapping him in a frozen piece of time drains my power as it is.”
His gaze passed over her, and he noted the fatigue in the slump of her shoulders. How much longer could she hold Barret in the time coffin? If she released her hold on him, he would wither away until he ceased to exist altogether. Such was the fate of an immortal killed by a mortal using an immortal weapon, usually with the intent to steal their power. If he didn’t find another Life to replace him and save his soul, he might lose his friend altogether.
He scanned each face quicker, determination rising within him. He knew each name connected to each face. He also knew when they would die.
A lump almost too big to swallow formed in his throat. Many of them would die by the end of the year. Very few would live to see next spring.
Noticing a large group gathered up ahead, he ducked beneath a tree bursting to life with green leaves and boasting of red, juicy apples. He leaned his hand against the trunk as he watched the group, searching each face.
Jolts of electricity shot through him when he spotted a flicker of otherworldly light in one of the faces, but the face was quickly lost in the crowd. His dark powers smoldered like a raging inferno as he narrowed his eyes, trying to locate the spark once again.
There!
A female turned in his direction as if sensing his gaze on her, though he knew she’d overlook both him and Betha, and see the tree beyond. His heart crackled with heat for an entirely different reason than hope. She was beautiful, her tan skin smooth, strands of her curly brown hair escaping her updo and brushing against a slender neck.
The woman continued to stare right through him, and he wondered for a moment if he’d accidentally dropped his cloaking to allow her to see him. At least until apples plopped to the ground one by one in a mushy, rotten mess. The stench of decay excited his hounds, the shadows swirling faster around his feet.
When the tree groaned, he swore under his breath and snatched his hand away from the peeling bark. Leaves started to break away from the branches, landing on the ground in a heap of dry, brittle stems.
Betha burst into laughter beside him. “You just can’t help yourself, can you, Death?”
“It didn’t used to be this bad.” Lord Life had balanced him in ways he’d taken for granted. For one, he hadn’t killed everything he touched. Likewise, Death had balanced Life. Without him, people would have lived long, agonizing lives stuck in their pre-death state and not able to die. Among other things.
He snapped his attention back to the woman, only to spot a glimpse of her curly hair disappearing into a cottage. His legs itched to run after her, but he forced himself to walk. Over his shoulder, he growled to Time, “Don’t follow me.”
Discomfort pricked his side as he dropped his cloaking, making sure to keep his shadow hounds out of notice. People looked in his direction, some stopping to stare. Whether because he was a stranger in town or because he carried a dark aura, he didn’t know.
Metal hangings clacked together, chimes tinkling over doorways and draped across fence posts. He snorted. They sparkled brilliantly in the light of dusk, with rich, beautiful glass dangling from each symbol. To any passerby, they looked to be ornamental, but as Death, he recognized what they were.
Wards. To ward off evil.
“I am not evil,” he muttered under his breath, not for the first time in his immortal life. “I am inevitable. No one can avoid me for long.”
His eyes watered upon stepping through the cottage gate. Flowers littered the entire garden, creating a stench with their sweet, pungent aroma. His hounds growled, prowling near the gate but not following him in. Forget the wards. Flowers were enough to keep him at bay.
He stepped carefully through the garden while pulling a pair of leather gloves over his hands.
Don’t touch anything. Don’t touch anything. Don’t touch anything.
But even with his gloves, he worried his power would seep through anyway.
His heart pounded within him in a mixture of hope, desperation, and anxiety. The last woman he’d attempted to pull through the veil of immortality and become Lady Life had died in his arms. That had only been a month ago.
