Read On A Pale Horse for Free Online

city. Some considered a meeting with ghost Molly to be a signal of doom. Certainly it would have been, had he accepted her offer and made love to her. It was, of course, death to love the dead. Sweet Molly herself might not be aware of that, but she did want a husband, and if he had become a ghost in her arms...
    The truth about Molly was that, while any person could see her with impunity, she herself could perceive only those who were approaching her condition. So if Molly saw a person, that person would soon be dead. She was not the cause, merely the signal. If a person was afraid he was destined to die soon, perhaps suffering from a mysterious illness, he could show himself to Molly and, if she passed him by without notice, he could relax. This aspect of her nature had somehow escaped Zane's consciousness at the time, but it was true. Probably he had censured it out emotionally. Yet of course the robber, who had certainly been seen by the ghost, had almost certainly taken a fatal wound.
    Oh, yes, there had been omens enough! Why not accept his fate with greater grace than he had accepted his life and do it now, before his natural cowardice overcame him? Make it quick and clean... well, quick, anyway.
    Overwhelmed by the rightness of it, Zane pointed the gun at his head. He oriented the muzzle on the cavity of his right ear, somehow diffident about spoiling his head by puncturing it in a messy place. Now was indeed the time!
    As his finger tensed, somewhat reluctant to move rapidly, Zane saw the door to his apartment open. He froze in place, uncertain whether to pull the trigger now, before being interrupted, or to hope for some amazing reprieve. Could Angelica have changed her mind and sought him out? Foolish notion! Or was it merely his landlord?
    It was neither. The figure that appeared was garbed in nonreflective black, with a hood shrouding its head. It closed the door behind it silently, then turned to face Zane full on.
    A bald, bony skull looked eyelessly at him:
    This was Death, come to collect him.
    Zane tried to cry out in pointless protest, but his throat locked. He tried to loosen his trigger finger, but it was already obeying the squeeze message and would accept no countermand. Time seemed to slow, and Zane could do nothing to abort the suicide he had set up. Yet the shock of seeing the visage of Death himself had abruptly banished any desire Zane had to kill himself.
    His finger muscles would not obey him, but his larger arm muscles did. Zane wrenched the pistol around. The muzzle came to bear on Death's head as the trigger tripped. The gun seemed to explode, kicking back against his hand.
    The bullet smashed into the center of Death's face.
    A hole opened. Blood flowed. Death fell heavily to the floor.
    Zane stood aghast. He had killed Death.

Chapter 2 - HOUSE CALLS
     
    The door opened again. This time a woman of middle age entered. Zane had never seen her before. She glanced approvingly at the fallen figure. “Excellent,” she murmured.
    Zane wrenched his horrified gaze to her. “I killed Death!” he exclaimed.
    “Indeed you did. You shall now assume his office.”
    “I—what?” Zane was having trouble regaining mental equilibrium.
    “You are the new Death,” she said patiently. “This is the way it is done. He who kills Death becomes Death.”
    “Punishment...” Zane said, trying to make sense of this.
    “Not at all. This is not murder in the normal sense. After all, it was him or you. Self-defense. But you are committed to take his place and to do the best job you can.”
    “But I don't know how to—”
    “You will learn on the job. We all do. Certain enchantments will imbue you, to facilitate your performance and stabilize you, but the real motivation must be yours.” She stooped to strip Death's black cloak from his body. “Help me, please; we do not have excessive time and we don't want to get blood on the uniform.”
    “Who are you?” Zane demanded, getting half a grip on himself