“You cannot kill Death,” the Reaper intoned. I don’t know if it was because I was scared or because it was dark out, but his voice was much more ominous and frightening than it had been at my apartment.
“No. But she sure as hell would slow you down.” Olly pinned me with a stare. “Shoot and then run.”
“What about you?” I whispered, clutching the gun.
“Don’t you worry about him,” the Reaper called. “He knows when Death has someone in its sights, it always gets what it wants.”
Without warning or any kind of pause, he threw out his arms and tossed some of that electric-blue energy at us. Olly didn’t seem surprised. He didn’t duck. He didn’t run. He planted himself directly in front of me and he absorbed most of what came our way.
“Go to the Jeep,” Olly said. Then he threw out his hands, tossing back more of the same energy.
Did he think I could just leave him there?
“Go!” he yelled when I just stood there debating.
Apparently he did.
“I won’t leave you here!” I argued.
The Reaper laughed and raised his hand, pulling like he was holding an invisible rope. A red cloud appeared around Charming, half in, half out of his body.
“Come along, Charming,” G.R. called. “You’re supposed to be locked up tight until the clock runs out!”
I watched as Olly seemed to stumble forward like his body was following his soul. I reached out and grabbed his hand, holding on like I could keep him right there with me.
The Reaper laughed again and pulled harder. Olly’s hand ripped from mine and he fell forward onto his knees. Red was a giant cloud around him, growing bigger every second, and the more red I saw, the more limp his body became.
I wanted to scream. To scream and never stop. I’d never seen such a thing before. Is this what everyone looked like inside? Could the Reaper just rip out my soul right here and now?
I didn’t scream.
Instead, I raised the gun, pointing it at the Reaper.
I didn’t hesitate.
I pulled the trigger.
The bullet slammed into his shoulder, knocking him backward, but not hard enough to knock him off his feet. The shock was enough to get him to stop doing whatever he was doing to Olly, and his soul snapped back into his body, the red disappearing from sight.
He scrambled to his feet, pushing me backward, toward the side of the house. “Get the hell out of here, Frankie. Go, now!”
Over his shoulder I saw the Reaper recover. I saw him look up at us and smile. He released more of that energy from his fingers and sent it spiraling right at Olly.
“Look out!” I yelled.
But it was too late. Just as Olly turned, the energy hit him directly in the chest. He flew backward, hit the ground, and slid into a large shrub that lined the property. I rushed over and fell to my knees beside him. Blue energy glowed around him before fading away into the darkness.
“Olly,” I worried, leaning over his body so I could see his face.
“Find Storm.” He said the words so low I barely heard them, and then he leapt up so fast that I fell backward from surprise. The Reaper had been closing in, taking advantage of my preoccupation over Olly. When our eyes connected he smiled. He was going to kill me.
I lifted the gun once more.
But I never got the chance to shoot it.
Olly was there, throwing himself between us and plowing into the Reaper like a bulldozer. I screamed, watching the man I love come into contact with the man whose touch kills.
Olly made a sound of pain and he shoved the Reaper away, but then he jumped back and stayed steady on his feet. “I’ll go with you now if you leave her be,” he said, out of breath.
“No!” I protested, panic taking hold.
“How about I kill her now and take you after?”
“If you kill her, I’ll make sure those bodies are burned and that soul is dropped to the bottom of one of the many oceans on this planet.”
The Reaper’s eyes flashed violet. His eyes flicked to mine and then back to Olly. Then he waved his arm and a doorway appeared out of nowhere. “Come along, Charming. It seems locking you up in the body you stole will make it more convenient to keep you contained.”
Olly walked toward the door; he didn’t look back. Just as I was about to rush forward, to do something, anything that would keep him here with me, he turned, looking at me over his shoulder. He shook his head slightly. “Remember what I said.”
He stepped into the makeshift doorway and it closed instantly. I was left standing there all alone with trembling hands.
I didn’t completely understand what happened in Scotland, how Olly had disappeared without a trace so easily. I understood now.
The only difference was this time I understood what was happening. This time I wasn’t going to go home and cry. Olly left because it was the only way he knew how to make me one hundred percent safe. He became an Escort because it was the only way he knew how to keep his mother and his sister safe. Olly had been fighting for a long time… fighting for his family, then for his job, and now for me.
Who had ever fought for Olly?
No one.
Until now.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Making plans - stupid.” *Definition provided by Charming.
Charming
Making plans was stupid. That’s why I was the kind of guy who liked to wing it. I liked to make decisions based on the here and now and not before things happen. Because things always change and a man needs to be flexible.
I should have spent less time making plans and more time thinking things through. Like going back to my house. I shouldn’t have gone there, but really, what were my other options? My wallet and all my credit cards and keys were in Scotland. I needed access to money and I really needed to get out of those hideous khaki pants.
So now in an attempt to keep G.R. away from Frankie again, I was back here in his office again. “I see you got the place put back together from my last visit.”
“Don’t even think about making a mess,” he said. “You’re just passing through on your way back into confinement.”
“As much as I’d love to stay and be locked up by you, I think I’ll pass.” I walked toward the door. I wasn’t staying here. I came to buy Frankie some time to get away. That was accomplished and now I was leaving.
If he wanted to try and stop me he could. I was up for a fight.
“I was there the night you died.” His voice was calm, almost conversational.
Something in my stomach hardened, but I kept walking, knowing he was just playing games. “I think that’s obvious.” I wouldn’t be in this fun position now if he hadn’t been there.