The Five Deaths of Roxanne Love (30 page)

He took a deep breath and tried to settle his thoughts, his fears. Panic wouldn’t get him out of this mess. He needed to use his brains and his newfound human instincts.

“It sounds like Roxanne scared him pretty bad,” Santo said calmly.

The scavenger narrowed his eyes. “Abaddon does not scare.”

“No? Then why is he so worried about her?”

“Can’t you guess?”

Yeah. He could. But he’d rather make the scavenger spell it out just in case he had it wrong.

“Abaddon has been looking for a way in. He’s found it at last. A way in for all of his creatures. He’ll tolerate no roadblocks.”

Roxanne was more than a roadblock. She could shut it all down—unless someone took her out of the picture completely.

Why was Abaddon giving Santo the option to do it himself? Why didn’t this scavenger do the job right now?

He glanced at the raven again. Had the birds told Abaddon how she’d banished them? Was the scavenger afraid she could do it to him? Did they need Santo to end her life because they were all afraid of her?

And what about her brother? Where did that leave Reece Love?

“What do you plan to do with Reece?” he asked.

“He has his role. It’s not complicated.”

“Dying? Is that it?”

“Dying without his sister. A detail that can’t be ignored,” the scavenger confirmed. “So what will you do, reaper? What will
your
role be?”

Santo shook his head, unable to see an out from any of this. If he tried to stop it, if he tried to save Roxanne, Abaddon would find another way to take her,
manipulate another human or demon to finish the job. Then he’d torture her soul for all time. The only way to save her from that was to kill her himself and take her back to the darkness with him.

It had been his plan from the start. Only now . . . only now how could he even think of doing it? Of snuffing out the beautiful light that she carried inside her? How could he survive knowing he’d never touch her again? Never hold her, kiss her, listen to the sounds she made when he made love to her?

“This is almost fun,” the scavenger said, watching him with amused eyes.

“When does it need to be done?” Santo asked softly.

“Tomorrow.” The scavenger looked at the clock glowing on the microwave. “Make that today. A messenger will come and tell you where.”

“Why don’t you tell me now?”

The scavenger shook his head. “Bring the human. Put an end to her existence. You’ll feel better for it. Ignore my warning, and roast in the fires of Abaddon, knowing you’ve condemned her soul to the same.”

He moved to the door, hounds following obediently, and paused to look back. With a smile that turned Santo’s blood to ice, the scavenger reached inside his jacket and pulled out a gun.

“Looks like you need this more than I do,” he said, holding it out.

Santo stared at the gun, stunned that the scavenger would risk giving it to him.

“You can’t kill me,” the scavenger said calmly. “I am protected by Abaddon. Feel free to try, though. I promise the doggies won’t bite unless I tell them to.”

Santo reached for the weapon but the scavenger held it back. “Just remember, you may have reaped a human or two and shot a couple of pooches, but you’ll lose if you try to take me on, reaper. It’s a verifiable fact.”

The scavenger handed Santo the gun and was through the door and gone in an instant.

T
he dream felt so real that Roxanne wondered if she might actually be awake. Her eyes opened in a dark room. After a disoriented moment, she recognized it. Reece’s condo, his spare bedroom. She turned her head, looking for Santo but the pillow beside her was empty.

She sensed herself curled on her side, sleeping, but it felt as if she rose from the bed.

“Santo?” she called—or thought she did. The dream made her voice sound strange.

When no one answered, she found the sweatshirt she’d worn before Santo had stripped her naked and put it on. Her panties were on the floor at the end of the bed. She bent to pull them on, and a flash of red caught her eye. She straightened so quickly that she almost fell.

There at the door stood Manny. Manny, her friend,
the dishwasher she’d last seen sprawled on the floor in a puddle of blood.

They stared at each other, Roxanne braced against the footboard, panties around her ankles. Manny looked embarrassed to have caught her undressed.

“Sorry,” he whispered and stepped into the hall.

Roxanne quickly yanked her underwear up and followed. “Manny?” she said softly.

“Over here,” Manny said.

She turned to find him standing in the kitchen. Hidden by shadows he looked like a child, his soft, slack features making him appear younger than his thirty years. The rolled-up jeans sagged around his sneakers. His Iron Man T-shirt had a large hole in the middle, and a dark stain spread out from the center where he’d been shot.

As she watched, he seemed to fade.

“Manny?” she whispered.

Her voice brought him back into focus. “Heya, Rossanne.”

Rossanne, because he could never pronounce the
x
sound correctly.

“What are you doing here, Manny?”

He tilted his head and gave a small shrug. “Looking for you.”

She took a step closer, and Manny became translucent. She stilled and he solidified again. “Where have you been?” she asked cautiously.

“Around. I’m not really sure. Have you seen my mom?”

Roxanne shook her head. “I’ve been a little busy.”

“I know. I saw.”

A faint stirring came from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, and the shadows slithered back and settled contemplatively. When she turned around, Manny stood closer.

“Are you here alone, Manny?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. Instead he gave her the sweet smile she’d seen on his face so many times before. “Do you remember my birthday?” he said.

“Which one?”

“When we went to the zoo place.”

He meant the Rainforest Café in the mall. They’d taken him there when he turned twenty-six and every year after. He’d delighted in the crazy animated jungle animals and their random activity. For him, the place had been magical with all its fake screeches, canned roars, and hollow trumpeting.

“I remember.”

“They’re going to tell you to go there.”

“Who, Manny?”

“You made them maaad.” He drew it out like a naughty little boy.

“Who’s they?”

“But they got Reece, so I guess you better go.”

“Are you talking about the man who shot you?”

Manny tilted his head and blinked at her.

“Do you remember my birthday?” he repeated.

“Yeah. I remember. We had fun.”

“We can have fun again,” he said earnestly.

“Sure.”

His face went blank as he nodded and Roxanne wanted to weep. A part of her had been holding a tight ball of hope in her chest that Manny and the others would be found. That they would survive this, just as she had. But as she watched Manny’s figure fade and warble, she knew that would never happen.

“Manny,” she said gently. “Where you are . . . do you see a light?”

For her, the light had always led her away from the darkness and back to life, but she knew that others believed it guided them on to heaven. When she’d been younger, she’d read every account of life after death she could, trying to find the reasons for what happened to her. Most told of similar experiences. In death, they were reunited with loved ones and they saw a light. They knew they should follow it.

Roxanne had never understood why, for her, it had been the opposite.

Manny was the purest of spirits, though. She had to assume that for him there would be a guiding beam waiting to take him to heaven.

“I saw
your
light,” he said happily. “You scared the birds, didn’t you, Rossanne?”

Startled, she said, “You saw that?”

“And the monsters. They were plenty mad about that.”

“Who? Who is this
they
you keep talking about?”

“He’s going to send me,” Manny said, suddenly serious. Intent. He focused hard and his struggle to impress her with the importance of what he said touched her. It frightened her, too.

“He can kill you,” Manny said. “Forever.”

Roxanne’s throat felt tight. “How do you know?”

“I hear him.” Manny’s jaw moved as he sought his next words. “He’s going to use me. But it’s not me.”

He shook his head, trying to articulate his thoughts. She’d seen him do it dozens of times before. Grief bubbled up from a steaming well as she realized she’d never see it again.

“It’s not
me
,” Manny finally said in an angry tone. “It’s
not me.
”

“It’s not you,” she repeated, her voice thick.

The words seemed to echo and her dream world clouded. Manny no longer stood in front of her.

Roxanne opened her eyes. She was alone in bed, in the spare room at Reece’s condo. A glimmer of light shone through the pulled shades. Dawn.

She let out a shaky breath and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to slow her heart and ease the ache inside it. Nightmare or vision? Which had it been?

She climbed out of bed, pulled on her clothes, and stepped into the hall, where a cold wind whisked down
the corridor and sent chills through her. Surprised, she padded down to the front of the condo.

Santo stood in front of the open sliding door wearing his faded jeans and the weight of the world on his bunched shoulders. She could see it in the way he braced his hands against the door frame, in the way his head hung low as he stared at his feet. A gun stuck out of his pants, resting against the hollow of his back. Where had he found it? His muscles flexed slowly as he gripped and eased his hold on the door.

“Santo?” she said softly.

He turned so quickly, she jumped. His eyes were red-rimmed and desperate.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “What are you doing?”

He gave her his back again. “Watching the sunrise,” he said.

She came to his side so she could see, too, feeling the tension radiating off him. On the horizon, a froth of pink and orange reached across the sky, poking fingers at the underbelly of a thin overcast.

She slipped her arms around Santo and pressed close. “You’re freezing. How long have you been out here?”

He said nothing, his eyes deep and troubled as he looked down at her. “We need to talk,” he said.

The sound of a key at the front door interrupted before she could agree. They both turned and Santo grabbed Roxanne’s hand, pulling her after him. He
paused long enough to snatch a throw pillow off the couch, before tucking himself and Roxanne behind the front door just as it opened.

“Where’d you find your gun?” she asked.

“Later,” he said.

Once again, he used his body to shield her from whatever came through it. She peered around his shoulder, watching a shadow stretch across the foyer floor as a man stepped inside.

Even if he hadn’t been dressed in jeans, rolled at the cuffs, and an Iron Man T-shirt, she would have known it was Manny by the way he stood so uncertainly on the tile entryway, by the way his head cocked to the side like a curious bird, by the way his words from the dream echoed in her head.

It’s not me.

He turned and spotted her and Santo behind the door. Santo had his gun in one hand, using the other to hold the pillow around it. The gun was pointed at Manny’s head.

Her friend frowned at it, trying to muster a shy smile. His eyes were shadowed, his face dirty and splattered with blood. He’d been crying. Tear tracks streaked his cheeks and his lashes had a stiff, salted look. He took a halting step toward them, and she saw the desire to run into her arms in his expression. Fear of the man beside her stopped him.

“Rossanne,” he said. “It’s me. Manny.”

Like she hadn’t recognized him. Why else would she stay where she was and not greet him? She saw the questions in his eyes.

He had a gap between his front teeth that he poked with his tongue when he was agitated. He did that now, looking so much like the young man she’d called friend, the one she’d worked with for years, that she had to believe the dream had been wrong.

This
was
Manny, no matter what subconscious message her dream had delivered.

Her relief made her knees shake. She started to push past Santo so she could reach her friend, but Santo blocked her with his body.

“It’s not him,” he said.

“Of course it is.”

Santo didn’t let her get by.

“It’s not Manny. It’s a scavenger, Roxanne.”

Manny was shaking his head, his eyes round and confused. “What’s he mean, Rossanne?”

“I mean you’re a fucking demon.”

Santo took aim at Manny’s head. Roxanne could scarcely believe it. She didn’t understand why he thought
Manny
of all people could be a demon. Yet the dream circled in her head. Manny had said they planned to use him.

“He’s a demon, Roxanne,” Santo repeated.

And then, before she could think, before she realized that he meant to do more than threaten, Santo pulled the trigger and blew a hole through Manny’s head.