Hazel hasn’t been anywhere the Horsemen didn’t take her, which means she hasn’t explored as much as someone her age would’ve by now.
I’ll fix that. As soon as she can stand being around me for more than a few hours without wanting to bash her head in, I’ll take her anywhere she wants.
When the fog clears, we’re standing in a hospital room. My Divine ripples outward, cloaking us from human sight. They can’t see me unless they’re dying, but I extend that protection to mask Hazel’s presence too.
Hazel takes a step back, taking in our surroundings.
The constant beeping of machines grates on my nerves. When I spot the little girl sitting up in a hospital bed, I tip my head back with a groan, cursing Vesta to no end.
I don’t deal with kids. Vesta knows that and still pulled this just to torture me. I swear that woman is a fucking sadist.
I grab Hazel’s hand again, ready to leave the smell of death behind, but a small voice stops me in my tracks.
Oh no.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to take me with you?”
Hazel looks confused when I don’t turn. She probably thinks I hate my job, but I don’t even know how to explain this side of being a Reaper.
I’ve been doing this for two decades, but witnessing the end of a child’s life… it never stops hurting. Never gets easier.
Fates, this is going to suck. And I brought Hazel here without thinking about what she’d have to see.
I turn to the girl with a sigh. “I am. But I’ll send a friend instead. Just hang here until she comes.”
“No need. I’m ready now. Let’s go.”
When she sees me hesitate, her innocent face shifts into a mocking expression I know all too well. I have two daughters—precious, yes—but also my biggest bullies.
“Oh God, don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental aboutmedying.” She shakes her head with so much disappointment, I want to crawl under her bed. “Men. Always making everything about themselves.”
Ouch.
Hazel snorts, quickly covering it up with a cough. Of course, she’s enjoying this.
The girl points at her. “See? She gets it.”
Good thing humans can’t see me, or else my reputation would be in shambles.
Sometimes I think the Sisters of Fate only send me women who enjoy beating my ego to a pulp. It’s their way of getting back at me for stealing their Divine.
I used that fucking Divine to create my daughter, but no one seems to remember that miraculous detail.
I drag my hands down my face, trying to come up with an escape plan that leaves some of my dignity intact.
“I’m assuming you’re the Grim Reaper. But why do you look so… normal? I thought you were some wrinkly old dude in a black cape.”
Hazel laughs at me. Again.
She’s never letting me live this down.
“Do you really think humans would follow some creepy old guy into the light? They’re stupid, but notthatstupid. We go as we are, it’s more relatable that way. Some of my Reapers even flutter their lashes to calm people down.”
“Are you a Reaper too?” She asks Hazel.
“She’s my soulmate,” I say proudly.
I don’t miss the way Hazel’s cheeks flush. I store that way to overthink later.
