My phone buzzed as I walked through the hospital parking garage.
Text message from an unknown number: "Meet me on the roof. We need to talk. - A"
Alex.
I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the delete button. The smart thing would be to ignore it, go home, report back to Marcus about the complications. Figure out a new approach that didn't involve my target knowing exactly who and what I was.
But I was already walking toward the elevator.
The hospital roof was technically off-limits to anyone without clearance, but locks had never been much of a problem for me. I pushed open the heavy metal door and stepped into the night air.
Manhattan sparkled below us, all lights and noise and life. Up here though, it was quiet. Just the distant hum of traffic and the steady whisper of wind between buildings.
Alex was standing near the edge, his back to me. He'd changed out of his white coat into jeans and a dark sweater. Made him look younger somehow. More human.
"You came," he said without turning around.
"I'm curious." I walked closer, my shoes silent on the concrete. "Most people who know what I am tend to run screaming."
"I told you. I'm not most people."
"No kidding."
Alex turned to face me. In the moonlight, his eyes looked almost black. "Are you going to kill me tonight?"
"I'm considering it."
"Here? Now?"
"It would solve a lot of problems."
"Would it?" Alex moved closer. "Or would it just create new ones?"
I didn't answer. Because honestly, I wasn't sure anymore.
"Show me," Alex said quietly.
"Show you what?"
"What you really look like. Your true form."
My heart—still beating, still throwing me off every few minutes—skipped. "You don't want to see that."
"Yes, I do."
"Alex—"
"Please."
There was something in his voice. Not fear, not morbid curiosity. More like... recognition? Like he was asking me to confirm something he already knew.
I took a step back. "You sure about this?"
"I've been sure about this my whole life."
Fine. If he wanted to see what death looked like, I'd show him.
I closed my eyes and let my human mask slip away.
The change always started with the cold. It spread through my veins like ice water, turning my blood to something darker and more ancient. My skin paled until it was almost translucent, showing the network of silver veins underneath. My hair shifted from brown to white, and my eyes...
My eyes became the color of winter storms.
When I opened them, Alex was staring at me with complete fascination.
"Beautiful," he whispered.
That wasn't the reaction I'd been expecting.
"I'm a death god," I said. My voice carried an echo now, like sound bouncing off tombstones. "I end lives. I collect souls. I am literally the thing humans are most afraid of."
"I know."
"And you think I'm beautiful?"
"I think you're perfect."
Alex stepped closer, close enough that I could feel warmth radiating from his skin. In my true form, I was always cold. Dead cold. But standing near him felt like standing near a fireplace.
"How are you not terrified right now?" I asked.
"Because I've been dreaming about you since I was six years old."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "What?"
Alex rolled up his left sleeve. On his wrist, just below his palm, was a birthmark. Not unusual by itself—lots of people had birthmarks. But this one was different.
It was shaped exactly like my company's logo. The symbol of Eternal Solutions.
A stylized hourglass with wings.
"How?" I whispered.
"I was hoping you could tell me." Alex held out his wrist. "I've had this my whole life. And every night since I was six, I've had the same dream. A woman with white hair and silver eyes, standing in a place that smells like winter. She tells me she's coming for me, but not yet. Not until I'm ready."
My legs felt weak. "That's impossible."
"Is it? Because you're standing right here, looking exactly like the woman from my dreams."
I stared at the mark on his wrist. It was perfect. Too perfect. Like someone had branded him with our corporate seal.
"Alex, I've never seen you before yesterday."
"Haven't you?"
"No."
"Then explain this." Alex pulled out his phone and showed me a photo. "This is me at age seven."
The picture showed a young boy with dark hair and sad eyes, holding up a drawing. The drawing was crude, done in crayon, but unmistakably recognizable.
It was me. In my true form. White hair, silver eyes, the works.
"I drew this the morning after my first dream about you," Alex said. "Told my mom I'd met an angel. She thought it was cute."
My mind was racing. "This doesn't make sense."
"Doesn't it?"
"Death gods don't appear in children's dreams. We don't make contact until collection time."
"Maybe I'm not just any child."
The way he said it made something click in my brain. "What happened to your parents?"
"Car accident when I was six. Day after my first dream about you."
"Alex—"
"They were driving to the hospital. My mom was in labor with my little sister." His voice stayed steady, but I could see the pain in his eyes. "She didn't make it either."
"I'm sorry."
"The thing is, I remember that night differently than everyone else does. Everyone says my mom went into early labor, that it was complications from the pregnancy that killed her. But I remember something else."
"What?"
Alex looked out over the city. "I remember her screaming. Not from pain. From fear. She kept saying something was wrong, that something was coming for the baby."
My blood—what passed for blood in this form—went cold. "Something was coming?"
"That's when I had my first dream about you. Same night. Like whatever took my sister sent you to... I don't know. Comfort me? Prepare me?"
This was getting worse by the minute. "Alex, death gods don't comfort people. We don't prepare anyone for anything. We just collect."
"Then why have you been visiting my dreams for twenty-three years?"
I didn't have an answer. Because I'd never visited anyone's dreams. Ever.
"Show me the mark again," I said.
Alex held out his wrist. I reached for it, then stopped. "Can I touch it?"
"Yes."
I pressed my finger to the hourglass symbol on his skin. The moment I made contact, the world exploded into light.
Images flashed through my mind. A woman in a hospital bed, her face twisted in terror. A man beside her, holding her hand and crying. A little boy standing in a doorway, watching.
And something else. Something dark and hungry moving through the hospital corridors.
Then the vision shifted.
I saw Alex as a child, sitting up in bed in the middle of the night. A figure stood beside him—pale, beautiful, with white hair and silver eyes.
Me.
But I'd never been there. I'd never met him before yesterday.
The figure in the vision leaned down and whispered something in young Alex's ear. I couldn't hear the words, but I could see the effect they had. The fear left his face, replaced by calm acceptance.
Then the vision ended.
I jerked my hand away from Alex's wrist, gasping. In my true form, I didn't need to breathe, but whatever I'd just seen had knocked the air out of me anyway.
"You saw it too," Alex said. It wasn't a question.
"That wasn't me."
"Wasn't it?"
"I've never been to your dreams. I've never met you before yesterday."
"Then who was she?"
I stared at him, my mind reeling. "I don't know."
"But she looked exactly like you."
"Yes."
"And she had your voice."
"Alex, I swear to you, I have never—"
"I know." He smiled, and even in my cold, dead form, that smile made something warm flicker in my chest. "I don't think you remember."
"Remember what?"
"Being human."
The words hit me like a slap. "I was never human."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure. I was made by Eternal Solutions. Created to be a death god. I've never been anything else."
"What if you're wrong?"
"I'm not wrong."
"What if the woman in my dreams was you, but from before? Before you became this?" Alex gestured at my true form. "What if you were someone else first?"
"That's impossible."
"Is it? Because I've been having these dreams for twenty-three years, and yesterday was the first time you felt your heart beat. That's not a coincidence, Raven."
I wanted to argue with him. Wanted to tell him he was wrong, that death gods weren't made from humans, that we'd always been what we were.
But I couldn't. Because deep down, in a place I'd never acknowledged before, I had always wondered why I was different from the other death gods. Why I felt things they didn't feel. Why I cared about the humans I was supposed to kill.
"Even if you're right," I said slowly, "it doesn't change anything. I still have a job to do."
"Killing me."
"Yes."
"In sixty hours."
"Fifty-eight."
Alex nodded. "And if you don't?"
"They'll kill me instead."
"Who will?"
"My company. My boss." I changed back to my human form, feeling the warmth return to my skin. "There are things worse than death in my world, Alex. And I've seen what happens to death gods who forget their place."
"So you're stuck."
"Yes."
Alex was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the city lights. "What if I told you there might be another way?"
"What do you mean?"
"What if I told you that I know why your heart started beating? Why you can't collect souls anymore? And what if I told you that there's a way to break free from your company without getting killed?"
My heart—still beating, still confusing the hell out of me—started pounding. "I'd say you're lying."
"Am I?"
"How could you possibly know any of that?"
Alex smiled, and for the first time since I'd met him, there was something mysterious in his expression. Something that made me think he'd been holding back as much as I had.
"Because I've been preparing for this my whole life," he said. "And because the woman in my dreams told me exactly what to do when I finally met you."
End of Chapter 5