“You’re a?—”
Instinct takes over. I close the space between us and crash my mouth against hers before the word can finish forming on her devilish lips. It is not gentle. Not sweet or slow. It’s raw and reckless. A brutal kiss. Not really a kiss at all because she attempts to wrench her face away, hands shoving at my chest, nails scraping at my collar.
But my aim is achieved. I do silence her, and if I’m not mistaken, for barely a moment, her lips soften under mine.
Then a shiver rolls through her entire body. A zing charges the kiss like striking flint against steel, leaving a tingling sensation behind. The shock of it hits us both at once.
We pull apart in unison, breath tearing from our lungs.
Her eyes are wide—panicked. Her lips part as if to speak, but no sound emerges. Only another heavy breath.
My own breathing is deep and unsteady, my chest rising and falling as it does after a brutal sparring match with one of my brothers.
My fingers, one by one, slowly release from her throat.
“Why…why did you do that?”
I exhale once through my nose. “When I figure it out myself, I’ll let you know.”
She brings her hands up and vigorously wipes her mouth, as if to rid her lips of my flavor.
I take a cautious step back. “Erase that word from your vocabulary.”
“Why? It’s not like you had a mo?—”
I hit her with the harsh reality. “Actually, I did.” My tone sharpens. “And I’ll have you know, she was a remarkable woman, with more grace and honor in her little finger than most women spend a lifetime trying to acquire. Don’t tarnish my good memories of her with sordid words when those memories and my thoughts of her are all that remain.”
She listens, really listens, and if I’m reading her right, shame flashes over her face.
“I’m sorry,” she says, quieter now. “But how could you have had a mother?”
“I was human once, as you are now. Or perhaps not as you are now, but as you were before.” My gaze travels over the marks revealed along her arms as she struggles. “Whatever you've done to yourself that’s changed you.”
“Human?”
“Yes. A long, long time ago. I died, then was chosen for this task and remade.”
“How?”
“If you behave, perhaps we will have that conversation another time. For now, it is enough that I once lived as these people do.”
“Then how can you do this to them?” The fire returns to her voice. “How can you simply steal into their minds, command them against their will, and worse, lead them here to be slaughtered? How can you be okay with wiping them from the face of the earth, and still live with yourself?”
I plant my hands on my hips and peer down at my soaked-through clothing. “Because it must be done.” It’s time all God's creations here came to an end, and I know I, above the others God could have given this task to, will do it with compassion and care.
“It’s time,” she repeats bitterly. “That’s your answer? Time for humanity to die?”
I nod once, slow and certain. “Yes, these souls. This life cycle. It’s not what you think it is, and there’s an order to things that must be carried out. Neither I, nor God, nor the other Harbingers have a choice in the matter. From where you stand, I may seem heartless—or like the despicable Soul Serpent you claim me to be—but I’m doing what I do for a higher purpose.”
“Just because you believe in it doesn’t make it right.”
“Well, you’d have to know the whole of it to truly make that distinction, wouldn’t you?” I hold her gaze. “And it’s obvious your belief system differs from mine.”
“So what?”
I give a slight shrug and step out of the shower. Water drips from my clothes onto the tile as I reach for the shelf and grab several towels. After dropping two to the floor, I unravel one and hold it out for her. Unsteadily, she gets to her feet and slowly takes it from me. She dries her face first, then her body. However, there’s little she can do because every layer she’s clothed in is soaked through, clinging to her frame.
“I’ll get you something to change into,” I say. “Can you manage to behave yourself for five minutes while I do?”
