The Three Fates of Ryan Love (27 page)

R
yan expected something more dramatic. A secret chamber. A hidden door. But the reaper didn't even need open space for what he had planned. He took two chairs from the table and set them in the middle of the room, facing one another.

“Sit,” he said.

“Why?” Ryan asked.

Santo seemed amused by the question. “So you don't fall down,” he replied, shooting Roxanne an enigmatic look over his shoulder.

Roxanne didn't seem to like the response any more than Ryan did. “How are you going to pull this off, Santo? Ryan can't just walk into the Beyond,” she said.

Ryan was pretty interested in the answer, not that it would make a bit of difference. Sabelle was in the Beyond. He was going to bring her back. End of story.

“Ryan will have to let his soul do the walking, Roxanne. You know as well as I that the Beyond is not a corporeal place.”

Ryan frowned, hoping he'd misunderstood what that meant. Roxanne stopped pacing and stared at Santo with a look of shock and dismay.

“What does that mean? I won't have a body?” Ryan asked, trying to ignore the clenching feeling in his chest. When they'd talked about this before, in the bright morning light, logistics hadn't even come up. There'd been so much debate and revelation that details had seemed the least of their worries.

Now his perspective had changed quite a bit. If the look on his sister's face was anything to go by, he'd just signed up for hell.

Maybe he'd see Reece on the way.

Sabelle had screamed when she came to this world. She'd screamed when Aisa tore her from it today. He had no reason to believe it would be any less unpleasant for him.

Roxanne had Santo locked in a glare. The man practically radiated danger, but she wagged a finger at him like he was a puppy who'd just peed on the floor. Santo looked down at the scolding finger with indulgent eyes.

“I don't know what you're—”

“How is this going to work?” Ryan interrupted, raising his voice. “If I don't have a body, how's it going to work?”

Roxanne spun to face him and her expression held so much fear that Ryan had to fight a closed throat to swallow. Warily, he cut his eyes between Santo and his sister.

“You're going to have to die, Ryan,” Santo said gently.

Roxanne made a choking sound and turned her back. Ryan stared at the reaper numbly.

“I'm what?”

“How did you imagine you would make this journey?” Santo asked curiously. “A bus?”

“You're going to kill me? That's the big plan? I'm not like Roxanne . . . You kill me and it's over.”

“Maybe not. You said it yourself—the same blood flows in your veins.”

Ryan's mouth fell open but he couldn't manage to get any words out.

“Have you ever died before?”

He'd been asked that question before. He'd always had a snappy comeback for it. Now he only whispered, “No.”

“Well, then,” the reaper said, as if that solved everything.

“Ryan, please don't do this,” Roxanne said. “We'll find another way.”

Santo looked at her with a placid expression. He didn't believe her. Ryan didn't either. If there was another way, Santo wouldn't be suggesting he kill the brother of the woman he supposedly loved.

“You'll need to be quick, Ryan,” Santo went on as if she hadn't spoken. “You won't have a lot of time.”

“Because I'll be dead,” Ryan said, still filled with disbelief that they were even having this conversation.

“There's that,” Santo agreed. “But the hope is you won't stay that way.”

“That's a good hope.”

“You'll have no more than ten minutes before lack of oxygen will start to damage your organs.”

Just like the movies. Except this was real. If Ryan failed, the lights wouldn't be coming on with the credits at the end.

“How are you going to do it?” Ryan asked, when he probably didn't want to know.

“Suffocation. It's the safest way without damaging your body. You'll want it whole when you get back.”

Good thinking.

“There'll be two stages to this,” the reaper went on. “I'll lead you into the darkness. When you find Sabelle and Joel, you call me. I'll come and take them.”

“Call you with what?”

“Your mind. Call me with your thoughts. I'll be listening.”

“After you take them, you'll come back for me?”

For the first time, Santo looked uncomfortable. He glanced at Roxanne from the corner of his eye. Her head came up, her face white. Stark realization pulled her features.

“No,” he answered. “I can't bring you home.”

“Why not?”

His voice wanted to break with the dread pooling in his gut but somehow he kept it steady. Just talking about dying. No big deal. Keeping it casual.

Santo shrugged, looking like he'd give anything not to answer.

“You're human. Your ticket only works one way.”

Ryan forced a smile. “Was that a joke?” he said, looking at Roxanne. “Is he being funny?”

“He has his moments,” Roxanne answered, pacing anxiously behind them. “This isn't one of them. This is the worst idea I've ever heard.”

The pit of Ryan's stomach had fallen out of his body. He felt numb. Surreal. And scared. There was no denying that. His heart rate had accelerated and he couldn't seem to catch his breath.

“Do you understand what he's saying, Ryan?” Roxanne demanded.

Yeah. It couldn't be much clearer. “He's going to kill me and leave me in the Beyond to save Sabelle and Joel in ten minutes or less.”

“And destroy Aisa,” Santo corrected.

“How could I forget? Any suggestions on how to do the deed?” Ryan muttered, not expecting any.

The reaper gave him a thoughtful look. “Aisa is forbidden to leave the Beyond, except in illusion. She
can't
leave.” Santo paused. “You need to throw her out.”

Throw her out? Ryan could hardly grasp how
he
was going to get
in
. “If you're not taking me out with you,” he said, “how am I supposed to find my way back, let alone with an evil bitch on my hands?”

Both of them looked at Roxanne. She gave a disheartened shrug. “For me, the light of life was always brighter than the one of the afterlife. That's the one I followed.”

Well, that cleared everything up.

“Sounds easy enough,” he said, like it really helped.

“She brings up another subject,” Santo said. “Lights. You'll be dead and the Beyond will be waiting for you. Your instincts will pull you to the light. Most find it irresistible. You're going to have to fight it. Following the light . . .”

Ryan held up his hand. “I get it. End of the road.”

“Ryan . . .” Roxanne said.

Ryan looked into Roxanne's worried face and took her hand. “If it wasn't for Sabelle, I'd be dead already, Roxy. It's her turn to be rescued. I can't leave her and Joel there. You know that.”

Roxanne's tears spilled down her cheeks, but she nodded and embraced him. For a long moment they held each other in silence that spoke for them. At last she pulled back.

“No good-byes,” Ryan warned.

“No,” she agreed. “No good-byes.”

She stepped away, but didn't go far. Ryan swallowed, looked at Santo, and nodded. “I'm ready.”

“Keep your thoughts on your goal,” Santo said.

Sabelle. She was in his heart. He'd have no problem holding her in his thoughts.

“And then what?”

“Find them.”

“That's it? Find them?”

“Call me when you do.” At Ryan's nonplussed look, he said, “Do you have something that belongs to Sabelle? That will help you. And you'll need something to bring you home.”

Ryan pulled the penny from his pocket and held it tight in one hand. Next he crossed to the rug where Brandy lay watching them. He scratched the dog's belly and slipped a tag from her collar. “Be back soon, girl.”

Brandy gave him an uncertain
woof.

The steps back to the chair felt epic. The plan didn't just suck, it was fucked-up beyond belief. The odds of succeeding were less than zero. Getting in would be hard enough. Escaping the pull of
the light
, a challenge. Finding—
saving
—Sabelle and Joel? Getting out? With Aisa?
When he was dead?

A disbelieving laugh burst from his lips.

“Why are you laughing?” Roxanne demanded.

“I'm going to a place I can't even imagine, with a reaper I only half believe in, to save a grouchy seer I hardly know and my not-quite-human girlfriend from a fate she had a hand in creating. But first I'm going to let your boyfriend kill me.” He laughed harder. “I'm fucking insane.”

The reaper gave him a dry look. “That runs in your family, too,” he said.

The laughter felt good, and once he started, he couldn't seem to stop. Roxanne shook her head, but his laughter was contagious and she finally joined in. Even the reaper smiled, revealing a dimple that made Ryan double over with mirth.

“You sure you want to do this?” Santo asked.

“Not even a little bit,” Ryan answered, and that was even funnier.

His laughter ended in bits and burst and then abruptly all at once. Yet Ryan felt better for it. Stronger. Bonded with this man his sister loved. Santo was taking a big risk going into the Beyond in order to help Ryan. Gratitude for what he was willing to do welled up inside.

“Thank you,” Ryan said.

“What I do, I do for your sister,” Santo replied simply.

Ryan nodded in understanding. His sister's reaper might not like to admit to human emotions, but they were there, beneath the surface. When it came to Roxanne, Santo would face anything.

Roxanne gave Ryan another hug. Then she took Santo in her arms and whispered something in his ear and that made him smile again. Ryan decided he was good not knowing what she'd said.

Santo gave Roxanne a gentle push toward the kitchen. “Don't watch,
angelita
,” he said.

“Don't tell me what to do,” she chided with a sad smile, but she did as he asked and turned away, her arms crossed. “Take care of my brother. I want you both back.”

“I will do my best,” Santo told her before facing Ryan. “Ready?”

“As I'll ever—”

Santo had neglected to tell him he planned to put out Ryan's lights before he smothered him. Ryan never saw the punch coming.

T
he darkness felt thick. Cool. Vast.

The impressions hit Ryan in waves. He was weightless. Blinded by the pervasive pitch of the layered black. But he wasn't alone. He felt the pull of the reaper, like a current tugging him along, just shy of the dangerous riptide lapping hungrily at his heels.

When she was younger, Roxanne had talked about the darkness that waited for her when she died. She'd said it was warm and inviting. Reece, on the other hand, had screaming nightmares about it for weeks afterward.

For Ryan, it was a little of both.

He was awake. Aware that he'd died. But alert and so scared that he didn't dare let himself think about what he'd just done. He held the key chain in his hand, palm tight around its flattened edges. It still felt warm. He'd quit asking how or why. He shoved his other hand into his pocket and curled his fingers over Brandy's dog tag, knowing he didn't really have a hand or a pocket, but in this dark place it felt like he did.
Go with it, Ryan.

The darkness seemed to grow thicker, deeper, and bigger as Ryan moved through the gloom, searching for a flicker of light; even the dreaded one would be welcome now. Anything to relieve the pitch-black texture.

The pull from Santo eased before stopping altogether, leaving Ryan suspended in limbo and so fucking afraid. The feeling was immense and aggressive, filling him so quickly he had no hope of staunching it. He searched for the reaper, felt his presence, but understood that this was where the train stopped. From here on, Ryan was on his own.

Ryan nodded, though he didn't know if the reaper could see. White light cracked the inky atmosphere and he felt the pull of it on a visceral level. It called him by name, coaxed him closer.

Light. Warmth. Love. Acceptance. He squeezed his eyes tight and fought. His fingers gripped the penny tighter, and he thought of Sabelle. Pictured her pretty face, her wide smile and guileless eyes. Her small wrists and elegant hands. Her mouth . . .

He was moving before he knew it, fast, hurtling away. His whole being felt that light, begging him to return. He wanted to follow it so badly that it hurt to deny it.

He clenched the penny, remembered the feel of her against him. He imagined her scent and the way she looked at him. The wonder when he introduced a new taste or sensation. He pushed on, resisting the light and hugging the shadows that followed like a sentry. He sensed things within them. Things without names, without shape or form. Entities of the Beyond that might mean him harm and might yet dole it out.

And then suddenly he burst through the darkness and into a world of shadowed light where a pearly castle poked up to the sky and evil sorceresses enslaved innocents for their own purposes. It looked nothing like what he'd imagined and at the same time it was exactly what he'd expected. Sabelle had called it a palace, but it lacked any grace or grandeur. More like a prison where the guard towers wore camouflage. It was a cold, unyielding place, from stone walls to sharp corners.

Ryan sailed over the gated wall and came down fast and hard with wind whistling in his ears and burning his skin. He hit the ground with enough force to bounce and skid. It took some grit to bite back a shout of pain when it felt like every bone inside him had been broken and the skin flayed from his limbs. No wonder Sabelle had screamed when she'd traveled through. Nothing up to that point had prepared him for the agony of it.

He lay motionless for a time, aware of rough stonework beneath him and cool twilight above. Silence came from everywhere, a snake that slithered with deadly stealth. He caught his breath, braced his hands, and stood. Two massive doors gaped open just ahead. Cautiously, he went through them.

A great hall stretched out before him, bathed in lavender hues from the dusky sky that peeked in through open arches in the painted ceiling. From pillars and platforms, sculptured gods and goddesses looked down with serene expressions, but Ryan knew that menace lurked behind their masks. Vestal marble couldn't hide the sickness that seeped from the marble. This place was a tomb as much as a temple.

He stood looking down his naked body at cuts and bruises that had come with the transition. He still held the penny in his palm, but Brandy's dog tag, the thing that was supposed to get him home . . . well, who knew where that was.

His bare feet were quiet on the cold tiles, but his awareness of his nudity and vulnerability made every sound seem to echo. He eyed the statues as he passed, recognizing a few unmistakable iconic figures among the many goddesses with their nubile figures and come-hither smiles. Poseidon and Zeus gave him mocking glances. This was no place for a human.

At the end of the hall, two figures dressed in armor stood at attention. Ryan approached warily, but the helmets were empty. He peeked inside, hoping they wore clothes as well as steel, but their stick-figure frames didn't care about the family jewels getting caught in a hinge. Not even a loincloth inside.

To his right, another hall was flanked by two knights on stuffed black steeds. More empty armor, but both of the dutiful squires looked so real that he had to touch them to be sure they weren't. Relieved when the figure didn't move, he stripped the one closest to his size and put on its draped tunic. The garment hit Ryan mid-thigh but hid his parts well enough. The squire had also worn a vest of chain mail, which Ryan hefted up and over his head. It fell across his chest and back with a rattle. There were weird tights with strange fastenings as well, but he slipped on the leather boots without bothering to figure them out. Last he lifted the heavy sword that hung at the hips. The blade was dull, but it could still do some serious damage.

Trying not to stab himself, he slipped the sword into the scabbard he fastened at his waist. The entire getup weighed about a hundred pounds, but it was worth it. Ryan was armed and felt dangerous and fierce as he moved down the hall, listening for sounds, terrified he'd wander for days without locating Sabelle.

He wanted to call for her, but he forced himself to stay quiet, turning corners until he came to a narrow corridor that was one of three arms spiking from a common center. He counted the doors on the left: five. Six on the right, eleven in each hall. One for each of the seers who'd lived there. Died there. All except for Sabelle.

Carefully, he opened the nearest door and peered inside. The room was richly decorated with a canopy bed, a small sitting area around a cold fireplace, a bookshelf. A veranda door with sheer curtains was straight ahead. He stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and carefully moved to it. Outside, the view he saw was just as Sabelle had described it. Perpetual twilight, dim stars. Tranquil, except for its aberrancy.

He heard the sound of shoes squeaking and hurried to peer out of the room in time to see Aisa, dressed in workout clothes and attitude, stroll by. She walked alone, looking very pleased with herself. Her hair gleamed like silk, not a hint of gray. Even her face looked smoother, softer. Illusion? If so, for whose benefit?

She turned, heading down the corridor he'd just come from. Ryan let out a breath of relief and rested his forehead on the door frame. A minute either way and they'd have met each other in the hall. He planned to come face-to-face with her eventually, but only after Sabelle and Joel were safe.

He lifted his head. She'd be passing right by the statues. If she saw the stripped squire, she'd know someone had broken in. She'd know it was him. He needed to move fast.

He was hell and gone from a knight in shining armor, but do or die, he was here to rescue the princess from the dragon.