Tara Fuller: Blurred

She didn’t answer but I could still feel her warmth. Smell the scent of rain all over me.

“Why won’t you let me see you?” I asked. “The others don’t seem so shy.”

Only silence answered me. I balled my fingers into useless fists that were still tingling with something so electric it made me twitch.

“What, are you ugly or something? Three heads? Medusa snakes? Cankles? You can’t look any worse than the rest of them. Trust me.”

My voice broke off into a fit of coughs that left me doubled over, spouting off words that probably made my little stalker blush. I couldn’t care less. Since the night of the fire, nothing had been right. It was like something was staining my insides with death. Every cough, every nightmare, every time I saw one of those damned shadows, I got a little blacker inside. A little weaker. And I hated feeling weak.

As soon as I could breathe again, I picked up the canvas and studied the shadow, then tossed it across the room. The still-wet paint left swirls of color smeared across the gray concrete floor.

A shock of cold sliced through the room and I shut my eyes. It’s what I felt every time she left. Her warmth being sucked away to somewhere I couldn’t find. The windows crackled as frost crept up the insides of the glass despite the balmy spring temperature outside. I froze, paralyzed by fear, listening to the shadows hiss and growl as they crept back in. I wanted to scream for it all to stop. I wanted to scream for them to tell me what the hell they wanted.

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. I didn’t have to ask what they wanted. Deep down…

I think part of me already knew.

Anaya

I should have been thankful for the warmth. I wasn’t. How could I be when I’d left Cash in such a cold, dark place alone with those…those…God, there wasn’t even a word for how vile they were.

There should have been a name worse than “shadow demon” to describe them.

I couldn’t stand this anymore. How much longer was Balthazar going to drag this out? The woman walking beside me gasped and gripped my hand a little tighter. I squeezed back as we watched the gates pull apart and the light explode from between them.

“It’s—it’s…” she stammered, smoothing her free hand over her purple nightgown before combing her thin white hair with fragile fingers. I reached up and tucked a curl behind her ear.

“I know.”

A gust of warm wind swept over us. Dandelion cotton swirled around us like a song. Stars glinted and glowed not just from the sky above, but from every space in between. I took a deep breath and filled my lungs with peace and the scent of the sea. It reminded me of home.

“Is it…Heaven?” she asked.

I laughed. “What do you think?”

Her pale wrinkled fingers slipped from mine as seamlessly as her soul had slipped from her body while she slept. I loved my job when it was like this. No blood. No tears. Just peace. Joy. She’d lived a full, happy life and she’d been ready. That always made it easier. She stepped forward into a whirlwind of light. Amber and gold wisps of color engulfed her, smoothing the wrinkles from her face. Placing the shine back in her naturally blond hair. The aged gray color dripped away and dissolved into the clouds beneath our feet. The innocent light of youth caught fire and blazed back into her eyes. When she faced me again, she didn’t look a day over seventeen.

“I’m…” She stared at her smooth, flawless hands.

“You’re home,” I said.

Don’t be jealous, Anaya. I stepped back and smiled, wondering if the day would ever come that I wouldn’t have to remind myself. Wouldn’t have to wonder if the soul I was ushering to the other side would shake my father’s hand. See my mother’s smile. Look into Tarik’s soft brown eyes. I turned and sprinted through the gates, away from the warmth, the memories. If I didn’t get away now, I’d remember. I’d remember what Tarik’s hands felt like in my hair, his lips on my mouth, his laughter against my neck. I barreled through the mist, into the Inbetween, and collided with a black blur.

“Hey! Slow down,” Easton said, spinning around to look at me. I looked at his leather pants, T-shirt, and combat boots, all black, and shook my head. The violet eyes that lit up his face were the only splash of color in the shadow that was Easton.

“Why do you always look like you’re going to a funeral?” I brushed the ash from my arm where he’d grabbed me. As a reaper for Hell, ash seemed to follow him everywhere.

“Already with the compliments, Anaya?” Easton grinned. “You know people are going to get the wrong idea about us if you keep flirting with me like this.”

I rolled my eyes. “Only in your sickest dreams.”

“I don’t have dreams,” he said. “When you live in my world, the best you can hope for is nightmares.” He looked me up and down with cold eyes. “And, sweetheart, you wouldn’t last five minutes in one of mine.”

I sighed and pretended to pick at a nonexistent thread on my dress so I wouldn’t have to look at him.

“Charming, as always.”

Easton laughed and waved to a reaper carrying a soul over. The boy’s soul looked over at us, blue eyes wide, afraid. He reminded me of the way Finn had looked when Easton had brought him to us. A little younger, sure, but the look in his eyes was right. I hated that look. The guys always said I was the lucky one, only having to deal with the Heaven-bound. I suppose they were right. None of my charges ever had that look on their face when I offered them eternal peace and happiness.

What they didn’t understand was the torture. Knowing your family, the ones you loved, were so close and still so untouchable. My eyes may have been stained gold by the utter perfectness of that place, but it didn’t take the sting away knowing how unwelcome I was there. But not for long. Once this was done, Balthazar would give me what I’d been working a thousand years for.

Redemption.

“What are you doing here?” I hooked a braid behind my ear.

“A better question is when am I not here?” Easton growled. “I swear to God, if they don’t get a replacement for Finn in here soon, I’m going on strike. I can’t handle his workload plus mine anymore.”

“Hey, I’ve been helping.”

“Not enough.” He frowned. “Maybe you’d have more time if you weren’t spending all your time stalking the human kid.”

A thread of guilt sewed a knot in my gut. I looked down at Easton’s dusty boots. A gray glittery mist circled them like fog.

“I’m doing my job,” I said. “If you have a problem with it, take it up with Balthazar. Trust me, babysitting a human isn’t exactly my idea of fun.” I didn’t mention the invisible thread that kept me tethered to Cash. Balthazar’s orders or not, when I wasn’t reaping it’s like it wasn’t even a choice. It was like…gravity.

“What’s Balthazar doing, having you keep him hanging on like that, anyway?” Easton said. “Kind of cruel, isn’t it? He can’t last much longer in that body. It’s got to be shutting down by now.”

I flinched. “It’s not my business to know. I’m just doing what I was told.”

“Which is?”

“I’m just supposed to look after him, and when his time comes around again, collect him. End of story.” I left out the part where I was supposed to completely swindle the poor boy out of his destined afterlife and deliver him into Balthazar’s scheming hands. “I’m sure Balthazar has a good reason for doing this.” He better. I may have been a slave to death, but cruel I was not. It didn’t bring me any joy to see a boy as vibrant and alive as Cash withering mentally and physically before my very eyes. And