Chapter Thirteen #3
“Did a Reaper hurt you?”
I swallow. “Yes,” I say again, and my voice cracks down the middle.
But not in the way she thinks. It wasn’t a Reaper who wielded the blade that sliced my skin down to the bone. And it wasn’t a Reaper who pressed their hand to that same wound, filling it with magic that would keep it from ever healing fully.
She hooks her thumb in the top of my shirt. “Let me see,” she whispers.
I do as she asks, reaching behind my shoulder to fist the material of my T-shirt, tugging at it until it slips over my head. I let it fall into my lap, and then I let Darcy see.
The jagged, ugly marks that are carved over my heart from the base of my throat to the curve of my rib cage. Red, and angry. Tender, stretched skin that will never fully heal.
She makes a small, choked sound.
“Gabriel,” she whispers.
Two cuts. Two strikes.
I only have one left.
“When I first became a Guardian, the job seemed simple enough. Protect those who need protecting. But I didn’t realize there would be other spirits intent on doing their jobs as well.
” I pause and try to gather myself. I haven’t talked about this to anyone.
I’ve done my best to not even think about it.
“The first soul I lost was a—” I drag my hand over my mouth, gripping my jaw tight. I take one breath and then another.
“The first soul I lost was in Spain. A little girl. I was working at a tavern on the coast, and she was—” I can still remember it all so clearly.
Her dark hair against the whitewashed rocks.
Her small, bare feet. “She was playing in the sand with her brother. I was watching them, so I should have seen the Reaper close by. But I wasn’t paying attention, and even if I was, I didn’t know what it meant. ”
Darcy doesn’t say anything. She’s still staring at my scars and her palm is still pressed against my skin. I focus on the way her thumb digs in slightly against my rib cage. How it feels like my entire being is centered on that single point of contact.
“They don’t tell us, you know. They don’t tell us which souls will be important later.
I think they want us to protect everyone equally, but—that little girl was important.
I know that now. That day at the beach, she went into the water, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t get to her.
I was barely off the rocks before the Reaper pulled her out. ”
Darcy’s mouth turns down at the corners.
“He was holding her hand, down on one knee to talk to her. I yelled at him to stop, to come back, but either they couldn’t hear me or chose not to. They disappeared the next moment, and then her mother was there.”
I can still hear her screams. Sometimes at night, I lie awake and I can hear all the cries of the people I didn’t get a chance to save, a dull pain across my chest seeming to throb in time with them.
I wet my lips. “I didn’t see the second soul. I saw the Reaper. I was serving meals in a community hospital, and I could feel the press of her magic when it was time. They were gone before I could find the right room. And then I was gone, too.”
The anger is as much of a wound as the ones across my chest. I had been so close, both times. Close enough to reach out and grab the mortals. If only I had been faster, paid closer attention.
“What did they do to you?” Darcy whispers. Her eyes are wet. Luminous.
I turn away and take another long drink from the bottle.
“They carved me open with my own sword,” I say, dragging the back of my hand across my mouth.
“They didn’t even hold me down. They just—” I shake my head, not wanting to think about it.
How slowly it happened. How I had fallen to my knees with blood running down my torso and it still didn’t feel like payment enough.
“You have people you answer to. So do I.”
“And your tattoos?”
“What about them?”
She lightly touches the wings of a butterfly on the outside of my forearm. “Are they a punishment as well?”
“No, these are—” I laugh a little bit. “These are mementos, I guess. One appears whenever I move on to a new place. They’re supposed to symbolize a life I’ve touched.
” I glance down at my chest. There’s a vine that curves from my rib cage up, the leaves spread wide.
I spent three years working on a vineyard in San Gimignano.
The vine appeared as soon as I left. “Sometimes I understand them; most of the time I don’t. ”
I’ve helped thousands of people, some of them significant enough to leave a mark upon my skin. This is where I wear the proof of my pride. There’s nothing more important than that.
“All of these tattoos,” Darcy says quietly. “And two scars.”
I can hear what she’s not saying. I’ve lost two souls, yes, but I’ve saved countless others.
But a thousand good deeds don’t make up for what I’ve lost.
“Not two scars,” I gently correct her. “Two souls. Two people.”
She nods. “And what happens if you lose another?”
“If I lose another soul to a Reaper, then I’ll no longer be a Guardian.” I lift my eyes to hers. “If I lose another soul, they’ll take my wings.”