Page 101 of Gray
“Don’t reapers use a scythe?”
Bellamy shook his head. “Only Death carries a scythe, but you’ll never find him collecting souls like this.”
“Why?”
“He’s too busy for grunt work.”
The woman ignored our ramblings as she knelt beside a man whose body was still mostly intact, apart from his missing leg. She sliced the blade across his trachea, and a bright light burst from the wound, hovering a few inches in the air.
“Is that…?”
“His soul,” Galen said.
Faster than my eyes could follow, the reaper dashed across the room, the slice of her blade cutting through the quiet. More lights appeared, some brighter than others.
“The brighter the soul, the purer it is,” Bellamy explained.
“They’re pretty,” Gray said. “But it makes me sad we couldn’t save them.”
“I’ll be taking those,” an unfamiliar voice called out. A man walked from the shadows. He had dirty-blond hair and wore a black T-shirt over dark-wash skinny jeans. Normal in appearance for the most part.
“What are you doing here?” the woman asked him. “This is my assignment.”
“Not anymore.” He grinned.
“Holden?” Bellamy asked.
“Bell.” Holden looked him up and down. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? Too bad I’m not here for that.”
Holden dove toward the female reaper, a flash of silver catching on the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Taken off guard, she didn’t have time to block the attack before he struck at her throat, cutting so deep her head was only hanging on by the skin. Her body collapsed to the floor, blood spilling out around her.
“Oops,” Holden said, wiping off his blade.
I watched, horrified, as the female reaper’s body withered up, the skin tightening and decaying before crumbling to dust. With a simple wave of Holden’s hand, the bursts of light—the souls—flew toward him and absorbed into what looked like a silver pocket watch.
“What the actual fuck, Holden?” Bellamy asked, charging toward him. “Why did you kill her?”
“Aw.” Holden gave him a honeyed smile. “You’re so cute sometimes, Bellamy. Maybe you should do more thinking with your big head instead of your small one.”
“You’re working for Asa,” Galen said with a growl.
“I’m just following orders.” Holden’s gaze flickered to Galen’s sword before lifting again.
“Reapers don’t interfere with human lives,” Bellamy said. “It’s forbidden.”
“Did I kill them?” Holden motioned to the dead bodies. “No. I stood back and let thedemonskill them. We call that a loophole in the reaper rulebook.”
“Is becoming mortal really that important that you’d be so awful?” Gray asked him. “You know Asa hates humans, right? If you’re able to break your contract with Death and turn back into a mortal, think about what kind of world you’ll be in, one thatyouhelped destroy.”
Holden’s jaw tightened. “I signed my freedom away when I was only nineteen. I was sick and dying alone when Death came to make me an offer. Of course I accepted it! I was afraid to die and too young to realize the full weight of that decision and what it truly meant. After centuries of loneliness and heartache, I’m done. Think of the years you’ve lived. All the pain. If you had the chance to become mortal, wouldn’t you take it?”
“This isn’t the way,” Bellamy said.
“It’s too late now.” Holden held his head up higher, all emotion fleeing. “Look around you. The world is literally on fire. Now, as much as I’d like to stand around chatting with you boys, I have somewhere to be.”
Galen lunged forward just as Holden blinked out of sight. He missed him by a second. “Fuck!” His body quaked before he threw a crate across the room, the thing smashing into splinters as it hit the far wall. “Motherfucking traitor!”
I almost reminded Galen that tantrums wouldn’t change anything, but I valued my head too much.
