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had a questioning undertone, as if he was asking her how much more she could stand.
    “I know.” Working in the hospital made death somewhat easier to accept. And she wasn’t ready to leave him yet.
    “Does that mean you accept who I am?”
    “How can I not?” He was really and truly the Angel of Death. Considering everything that had happened in the last few moments that no longer seemed odd. So long as he wasn’t her for her, but that was a conversation she wasn’t ready to have.
    His lips brushed her temple so delicately she wondered if it had actually happened the second after. “You are the right woman, Sara Donovan.”
    She wanted to ask ‘the right woman for what’, but she was afraid of the answer. The day had held enough surprises, enough weird answers and bizarre happenings. Why warp it completely by finding out she was supposed to be some sort of human sacrifice or something like that? Right now, she just wanted to breathe and be happy she had the ability to draw the breath.
    And yet, there was so much she wanted to understand. How did he know which souls to reap? What determined which souls he took and which he didn’t? Where did the souls go? Had he always been the Angel of Death?
    Why could she see him when no one else could?
    They continued on in silence, him with his work, her with her observations. The people whose souls he took, she noticed, usually succumbed with a peaceful look on their faces. Kol’s victims—for she had come to think of them that way—did not. She couldn’t help but watch the other reaper. Thankfully, he ignored her. Even so, she was careful not to make eye contact with him again.
    She leaned forward, splaying her hands over Pallidus’ muscled shoulders. She needed to feel life, even if it wasn’t human.
    Azrael moved his arm from about her waist, placing his hand on her hip instead. She turned to look at him, this man—being, creature, whatever he was—who held the power of death in his hands. “I don’t know how you do this with such...such...sense of purpose...such calm.”
    A muscle in his jaw ticked, then smoothed out. His eyes softened with...sadness? Longing? She couldn’t tell. He was a hard man to read. “It’s all I know.”
    That she understood. She’d felt that way herself once after a marriage gone bad and a life that seemed to have no purpose. But everything could be changed, couldn’t it? Hadn’t she proved that with her own life?
    “What would you rather do?”
    His eyes widened briefly, his lips parted. Then all was stone again. “Nothing,” was his answer.
    She didn’t believe him, but she let it drop. Men, whether they were anesthesiologists or Angels of Death, didn’t do emotion well it seemed. Not that she was lumping Azrael in with Ray. She wasn’t. Wouldn’t.
    Her mouth bent in a depreciating frown. Thinking of Azrael as a possibility was proof she’d really lost her mind. He wasn’t even human. Shaking her head, she let her chin drop to her chest and half shut her eyes. Being alone was better than being with Ray.
    Azrael’s hand tensed at her hip. “Are you all right, Sara?”
    Touched by the note of concern in his voice, she nodded and blinked. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”
    He sighed, his breath teasing the back of her neck. “I understand this must be a great deal to comprehend. Perhaps I should not have brought you.”
    “No, no, not at all. You’re right that this is a lot to take in, but I’m glad you chose to share it with me. It’s amazing in its own weird way.” The ground beneath them faded as Pallidus rose. “I never would have thought something like this possible.”
    “There would be no way to explain it in words,” he said.
    “I wouldn’t have believed you anyway.”
    “I’m glad you came.” He held the scythe out from his body, spoke a word and the scythe shrank down to its original size. He tucked it back into his robe. “No human has ever seen what we do.”
    “And lived to tell about it?”