His Soul to Take Read Online Free Page A

CD player in the corner, bought to work on his acts for the club. Hell, a robber would peek inside and laugh before leaving. Might even pity him enough to leave the CD player.
    He didn't have anything to offer anyone. He didn't have his own house, and now that the club was gone, he was out of work, he spent his time auditioning for dancing gigs, and he didn't even own a car. No wonder he couldn't find someone ready for a serious relationship.
    He didn't have a family. Well, none that would claim him. His only friend was self-absorbed, and Robert probably wouldn't hear from him again until his fling with the cop was over. He didn't have anything.
    He ran his fingers over his lips again. Except for a kiss with a relative stranger.
    He smiled at the memory. That wasn't a bad thing to have.
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Chapter Three
    Death walked down the street, eager to be away from temptation. The thought of ever being in such a situation had never entered his mind. Living people never saw him. Not the sane sort.
    Robert was different. He wasn't mad, just more observant than most. Special.
    The weight of something familiar drifted in the wind. A cold chill ran down his spine and the air grew heavy as the presence grew closer. He stopped in front of a small cafe and went inside to wait. No one paid him any attention as he took a seat in the booth at the far end of the cafe.
    A few minutes later another stepped into the cafe. Like himself, the man was so average he was never noticed, but Death saw him. Death knew his own.
    The Reaper frowned and made his way through the cafe to sit across the booth from him. Hard brown eyes bored into him, and Death struggled to keep from fidgeting. His interference had drawn Reaper to him and his stomach twisted with worry.
    "Hmm, it's been awhile since this has happened,” Reaper said.
    Death said nothing and stared down at the placemat in front of him. Colorful monsters and kid friendly games splashed the paper with vivid hues.
    "Why am I here?” Reaper asked.
    Death shook his head and stared down at the placemat. His finger traced the colorful monsters on the paper.
    There was a long pause as Reaper stared off thoughtfully into space. “You've interfered and pulled your target from his destiny last night. His pain would have eased the transition."
    "It was unintentional."
    "That doesn't really matter though, does it?"
    "No,” Death said.
    "You've been at this for a long time. You know how things work. So why am I here? Fix it or I will."
    "What happens if I don't?"
    Reaper shot him a dark look. “Don't play games here. This is someone's soul we're talking about. Things live and things die—"
    Death took a deep breath. “No, I'm serious. I want to know. What happens if I can't fix things?"
    "Can't or won't?” Reaper got to his feet. “Do what's best for him and fix this. I know you've been here a long time, longer than most, but this is a soul we're discussing. A living soul. Do what you have to do."
    Reaper moved through the cafe as a busy young waitress scrambled to pull off her apron. The Reaper stroked her arm like a caress and the woman dug through her purse never acknowledging the touch. Keys in hand, she rushed to the door and disappeared outside.
    With a flash of white teeth, Reaper followed her out the door like a hungry predator eager for his next meal.
    Death got to his feet and left the cafe. He had his own work to do.
    As he was drawn to his next assignment, memories bubbled to the surface. Images flashed through his head of times long since gone. Fields of men in armor, palaces and plagues, burning cities and weeping children. Such destruction and grief, little wonder he'd chosen to forget.
    The memory of his beginning sent a painful ache through him. Fear and pain had made him desperate. His lover lost, his life's blood slipping away. He'd cursed the gods with such venom... but that had been a long time ago. Those gods were gone, that life more dream than memory.
    He