Angel of Death: (Reaper Series, Book 1)

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  Azrael slowly emerged from the shadowy depths of the cavern and walked off the stone bridge and onto the island, watching Fate as she danced around the pool, talking to herself and waving her hands over the water. He was having trouble with walking, now, the pain from the burning souls inside him beginning to grow too strong. They had burned away almost all of his flesh, now. He hadn’t looked at himself lately, but he could feel that there wasn’t much of his former self remaining. Azrael limped over to Fate and watched her for a moment while she shuffled left and right, talking to others who weren’t there, taking no notice of the cloaked figure that had arrived.

  “Where are they?” Azrael demanded of her. “I’m looking for-”

  “You seek the Reaper and the soul he protects,” Fate stated simply. “We know what you want and we know where they went, and we know what awaits us all if you succeed.”

  “Do you intend to stop me, old woman?”

  Fate suddenly smiled widely and began to cackle. “Stop him, he says to us! As though we could. As though we would! Fate does not interfere in the decisions of others, this is your path to take, fallen Angel. Be warned, though. There is a choice that remains with you, but I already know the decision you will make.”

  Azrael smiled. “And what choice is coming to me?”

  “You shall know when it presents itself to you, fallen Angel,” Fate cackled. “But first, we must show you the way! Here, this way!”

  And then she opened the vortex in the pool and gestured to Azrael to go through it. Azrael didn’t move. He simply glared at Fate, suspicious.

  “Why should I trust you?” he growled. “You let them leave. You knew I was coming for them. If you’re so willing to help me, why would you let them escape?”

  “We didn’t let them escape, you idiot,” Fate snapped. “We preserved her for you. Honestly, you call yourself the Angel of Death? You don’t know a thing. If you tore the mortal’s soul from her body with Tartarus so close, he might have snatched her from your clutches before you could feel the warmth of her energy on your fingertips. Stupid, idiotic…” Her voice trailed off as she began to mumble.

  Azrael hadn’t considered what would happen if he took Peyton’s soul with Tartarus all around. Tartarus didn’t just surround the island, he also moved under it and through it. He was everywhere. And a soul without a body might attract his attention like ants to sugar.

  “Why would you help me?” Azrael asked.

  Fate cackled again. “Do you think you’re the only one who has grown weary of their duties? If humanity were ruled and controlled by a more, shall we say, proactive deity, there would be no need to test their souls, to constantly watch and plot and guide. We would not need to be on this island anymore. We could be free. Much like you, Azrael, Angel of Death.”

  Azrael considered the old woman standing before him for a moment, thinking. He had considered destroying her, but perhaps her wisdom could be useful in the future. With a wicked grin from under his hood, Azrael stepped off the ledge and into the pool after Peyton and Darius. The pool spun faster and the blue light glowed brighter and brighter, almost blinding, and then it faded in an instant and the pool stopped spinning and became calm and still as it had been before. Once he was gone, Fate shuffled around the edge of the pool, staring down into the water with its gentle blue light, a slow grin beginning to grow on her ancient face. Then she began to laugh. And laugh and laugh and laugh, the sound echoing back at her from all sides of the enormous cave.