Chapter Thirty-Three
Jackson
T here are just so many secrets, so many untruths to unpick … and any of them could shatter her world. I exhale hard, my throat turning dusty as I rake my fingers through my hair, the whole time trying to avoid the force of her gaze. Millie looks glorious when she's pissed off; all flushed cheeks and flaming forest eyes. I resist the urge to smile, certain she'd tear me apart if I did. And I'm not sure I'd hate it.
“I'm a reaper …” I start, my voice flat.
“A what?”
“A reaper. I follow Death's plan, separate a person's soul from their body and help them pass over.”
She doesn't move, doesn't say a word. Behind us, I hear the purring of car engines, of cursing drivers, but nothing from her. And then finally …
“Are you … is this a joke?”
I close my eyes, trying to ignore the ache growing between my temples. I don't have time for this. Every second that passes we're being hunted, every second that passes is a second closer to an end I need to stop.
“Nobody in the entire world has died in four hours. A hellhound was chasing you…” I growl. “You don't think it's time for a bit of an open mind?”
More nothing. I move closer. She doesn't back away, which I take as a good sign.
“I died. Over a hundred years ago, I died, and Death gave me a choice. Pass over or join him and become a reaper. I chose the latter and joined Scythe. There are hundreds of us, a whole organisation dedicated to acting on the will of the Fates, to ending lives at the right time and helping people pass over.”
She frowns, looking hard in the distance, processing my words carefully.
“OK, let's say for a second that I'm accepting this … nonsense that you're spewing as fact. Does this … does this have something to do with what's happening? Why people aren't dying?”
“Yes, I don't understand it exactly, but … Death is … well … he's dead.”
She shuts her eyes, squeezing them so tight they crinkle in the corners. Her hands are fisted at her sides.
“Death … as in?”
“The Grim Reaper, yes.”
“Death's dead. Right?”
“I sort of …” I clear my throat. “I sort of accidentally reaped him, and he passed over.”
Her eyes spring open, and her nostrils flare in anger.
“Someone set me up,” I mumble quickly, moving towards her but stopping when I see her body stiffen. “Somebody arranged it so I would reap Death while he was in human form. I don't know how or why, but I need to undo it.”
“And that … thing? That beast, hound … that was really a hellhound?”
I nod. “When you a reap a soul, you help them pass over. People aren't always happy about it at first, but it's your job to guide them. But some … well, some make a run for it, for lack of a better term. The job of a hellhound is to track down a missing soul, but with no one dying, the hellhounds are out hunting those who should be passing over.”
Millie's face drains of colour. A whimper escapes her lips.
“Was I … was I supposed to die? Is that why it was hunting me?”
Everything in my body freezes, just shuts down. There's pressure on my chest like my heart is being crushed in a vice. Time has stopped, and right now, it's just me and her. Somewhere in the distance, cars are hitting their horns. Millie needs to know what's happening, everything that's happening. I'll probably lose her regardless, but right now, honesty is my only chance to keep her.
“Whoever set me up arranged it so that you were due to die. I was supposed to reap you, but I couldn't … I wouldn't do it. So I found an alternative, someone who the world wouldn't miss, but it was a trick. I reaped Death instead.”
“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” She's clutching at her chest, and I move to her, taking her hand in mine. I rub the soft skin of her palm with my thumb. She doesn't pull away, and my heart hammers so fast that I'm scared it's going to burst through my chest.
“Reapers, hellhounds … this is all too much.” She sinks to the grassy ground, putting her head in her hands. I dip down with her, giving her space but needing to be close enough to reach her. When she looks up, her eyes are wide and haunted. I feel like I've taken something from her, something I can't give back.
“So … this was your big secret? Your complicated life?”
I nod before a chuckle escapes my lips. “Yes, this is it. Telling mortals … it's breaking at least a dozen rules. Us being together? I don't even know how many more. That's why I fought it for so long, you and me. I've never wanted anything as much as I wanted to be with you, and someone knew that and exploited it. They knew how far I'd go to keep you alive.”
She laughs, looking at me with tenderness in her eyes. The softness of her expression makes me melt. She reaches forward to touch my face, her fingers delicately grazing my skin.
“I thought you were part of a crime syndicate or something? You know, like your family was the mafia?”
I snort and laugh, covering her hand with mine, revelling in the warmth of her skin. I want to kiss her, hold her.
“That would be easier.”
“You really died a hundred years ago?”
“Yes.”
She looks like she wants to ask more, but I'm relieved when she doesn't. I have no problem talking about my death. It's what led up to it that gives me nightmares.
“And why are we here? Sitting in this traffic jam?” she whispers, exhaustion seeping into her voice.
“I need to avoid travelling through the Death realm …”
“Death realm?”
“It's the space that exists between life and death, where a soul lingers before passing over. It's where Scythe HQ is, and it's how we travel. I can be tracked there, so until I know who has done this and why, I need to keep us off the grid.”
“Us?” She bites her lip.
“Whoever did this used you to get to me. I don't know why, and I don't think we can assume anything until we know more.”
“And London?”
“There's someone in London who might know how we can put all this right. If there's a way of bringing Death back, a way of fixing all this, he'll know.”
She nods before pulling herself quickly to her feet and wiping her hands on her thighs. I can hear the sounds of movement behind us. The traffic is clearing, and the cars are finally moving.
“In that case, we better go. Quicker we go, quicker we can fix this.”
I grin, standing up and moving towards her, wanting to pull her into my arms. She steps backwards sharply and puts up a hand.
“We're not OK, Jackson. I need time … time to process this. You kill people, Jackson, you take lives.”
I frown; I thought she understood. I thought she got it.
“As part of Death's plan, as part of what the Fates decide? We all have to die, Millie …”
“And this … Death or … Fates? These people you keep talking about, they get to decide? Why? Why does someone like my mum, someone who fought for everything her whole life, die young and in pain when people who do terrible things die warm in their beds? One of you reapers took her from me. For what? Because of some plan?”
Not just any reaper, me, I reaped Eva. The thought is a splinter inside my brain, digging deeper and deeper. I need to tell her, but I don't because I know what it'll mean to her. I know it better than most.
“Any system that thinks that's OK,” she continues. “Isn't something I want anything to do with. And you're a part of it.”
“The plan is fair. It's fair because it's not about judgement. Your mum wasn't chosen to die because of anything she'd done or hadn't done. It was because it was her time. Everyone has a time to die, and that time isn't just about them; it's about moving the whole of mankind one step forward towards our fate.”
“Towards our fate? You sound like you're part of a cult. What does it even mean?” she snaps bitterly, her face full of disgust.
“Think of Death's plan as a map. Each death is one step closer to our destination.”
“Which is?” She throws her arms up angrily, her bottom lip jutting out. “What are you talking about?”
“Honestly? I don't know. The end of the world? The salvation of all mankind? No one knows, and it doesn't matter.”
She sighs, her body sagging. “Then why do it? How can you do it if you don't even know what it's all for?”
“Because it will happen with or without me. And with me, I can bring some comfort to people, make the last seconds of their time on this earth a little better. And that means something to me.”
“So you'll blindly follow this plan, kill people on the basis that if you didn't, someone else would? That's ridiculous.”
“I know you don't understand, but this is what I am, Millie. I'm a reaper.” I put a hand on my chest, covering my heart. “It's what I chose a hundred years ago, and I've never regretted my decision.”
She looks at me, her lips pursed tightly, her eyes pitch black. “Except you're a hypocrite, aren't you? If you really, truly believed all you've just said, you wouldn't have saved me. You would have followed that stupid plan and not taken someone else's life instead.”
“I believed it, I still believe it, I just didn't care.” I step forward, my hand going to her jaw, gently lifting her face so she's forced to look at me. My eyes burn into hers as I will her to understand, but her face remains as hard as diamonds. “Because it was you.”
She opens her lips to speak but then just sighs, looking away from me. When she turns back, her expression is ice.
“Millie, I …”
“We need to go.” She pulls away, taking a step towards the road. “Whatever this is, we need to fix it. We need to fix what you did.”
Without waiting for a reply, she storms back towards the car. My mind is reeling, that pressure on my chest growing. I'm losing her—the blankness in her gaze has tattooed itself onto my eyelids, and now it's all I see when I close my eyes.
Everything is spinning out of control. I feel like I've been scooped up by a hurricane, swept up high and higher, tumbling faster and faster as the world blurs beneath me. I'm waiting for it to stop, for this uncontrollable force to let me go, but Millie Nightingale is my centre of gravity, and without her, I know I'll never hit the ground.