Raven's Breath (The Women of Purgatory) Read online

  THE WOMEN OF PURGATORY BOOK 1

  by

  Tish Thawer

  * * * * *

  Raven's Breath

  Published by Amber Leaf Publishing

  Copyright 2013 by Tish Thawer

  All rights reserved

  www.amberleafpublishing.com

  www.tishthawer.com

  Cover design by Regina Wamba of Mae I Design and Photography

  and Full-wrap design by Emma Michaels

  Edited by Nancy Glasgow

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any use of name brands herein is done so under the Fair Use Act.

  Licensing Note: This Kindle eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only, and may not be resold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the author's work. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.

  Table of Contents

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Acknowledgements

  To my wonderful family––I couldn't dream what I dream without you. I love you guys with all my heart.

  To Cortney and Des––Your input means more to me than you know. Thank you both for listening to me rant and rave. Without those times, magic couldn't happen.

  To my amazing cover artist and friend, Regina Wamba––Thank you for inspiring this story with your amazing talent.

  To Emma Michaels––Thank you for enhancing my vision and bringing Raven to life.

  To my editor Nancy Glasgow––Thank you for your keen eye and constant professionalism.

  Death's firm grip settled on my arm. When I spun around, the serious look on his face caused my internal alarms to sound.

  "Raven, when was the last time you were sent to Heaven during a retrieval?" His voice was strained and taut.

  I pulled from his grasp and took a quick step back, contemplating the odd question. It wasn't unusual for me to visit Heaven, or Hell for that matter; it was part of my job.

  "Earlier today, why?"

  His jaw clenched, then he and Holli disappeared. Wow. Guess I won't be getting an answer.

  I shook my head and took to the sky, finally heading home for the night. As I neared my apartment, I saw Garrett rushing up to the main door of my building. I adjusted my trajectory and touched down gently behind him.

  "Hey! Fancy meeting you here."

  "Actually, it's not fancy at all.” His intensity shook me. “I need to talk to you."

  "What's wrong?"

  "Let's get inside." He ushered me into the building and up the stairs to my apartment with the urgency of an undercover spy on a mission.

  I flipped the lock. He unceremoniously pushed me inside, slammed the door, spun me around, and pressed my back against it.

  "What are you doing?" I demanded.

  “I need to check for something." He brushed the hair away from my ears then turned my head from side to side. This is awkward. "Garrett, seriously, what the hell is this about?"

  "Not Hell."

  "What?"

  "Hold still." The edge of panic in his voice had my heart racing. He continued to run his thumb over the smooth skin behind my ears and down each side of my neck. "Oh my God, he was right," Garrett breathed.

  I'd had enough. I shoved him off with enough force to push him away from me. "What are you talking about?"

  "You've been marked, Raven."

  I stared at Garrett like he was an idiot, but it was I who was completely clueless. "Marked? By what? What do you mean?"

  "I mean..." He grabbed my arm and pulled me to the mirror hanging next to the front door.

  "...Heaven has marked you.”

  1

  Sirens blared, cutting through the still night, while I watched from the shadows. A man who'd just been hit by a taxi lay bleeding on the frigid, grime covered ground. People began to gather and were staring at the gruesome scene, while the driver of the taxi sat on the curb, crying into his hands.

  I scanned the crowd, singling out who'd seen death before and who hadn't.

  I could always tell.

  My attention snapped back to the dying man when he took his last breath. Images began to take shape in his mind; images that due to my job, I, too, could see.

  Snapshots of him riding a motorcycle for the first time, of him falling in love, of his big successful promotion at work...all images of him. It was the usual replay of one's life flashing before his eyes.

  When the replay stopped, it was time for me to go to work.

  I stepped out of the shadows and took two steps in his direction. To the people watching, his wide eyes marked his final passing, but to me they continued to grow as he took in my features: dark hair blowing in the wind, a curvaceous body wrapped in tight black leather, and large wings the color of the night sky. No one could see me but him, for he now resided in the netherworld...in my world.

  I extended my hand and offered my usual greeting. "My name is Raven, and I'm here to help you find peace." He reached for me, then glanced back to take a final look at his body.

  "Am I really dead?"

  "Yes."

  "And you are..."

  "The Grim Reaper."

  This was the exact conversation I'd had with thousands of souls, which was why I knew that now would be the best time to comfort him, before he got scared to death––no pun intended––and tried to flee from me.

  I extended my wings and let my divine light radiate from within. "There's nothing to fear."

  This usually worked since I looked more like an angel with wings than the old man with a scythe that most people envisioned. Maybe that's why I'd been chosen to become the first female Reaper in history; the boys had been losing too many souls.

  My inner light built to its crescendo, opening the portal to Heaven. It was through a Reaper's inner light that all souls were transported to their destined eternity, whether it be Heaven or Hell.

  I guided the man to the pearly gates, then quickly returned the same way to the earthly plane and flew to the highest point of the Holy Cross Cemetery. It was the oldest and largest in the "city of cemeteries," Colma, California, located just south of San Francisco. I tucked my wings into my back and walked up the hill, th
e heels of my boots sinking into the dirt that surrounded the large mausoleum.

  The name over the ornate stone entrance read Richard Payman, Born 1892 - Died 1962. I placed my hand on the door's handle and the letters R. and P. became illuminated. I smiled when the numbers shifted and transformed into the sum of their total––1+8+9+2+1+9+6+2, equaling 38. In other words...Reaper Portal, Thirty-eight.

  There were thousands of portals, each one located in a cemetery tomb that read Richard Payman, Born "something" – Died "something else," to indicate which location you were entering.

  The seam of the door glowed blue, then opened to reveal the shimmering orb waiting within. If a human opened this door, however, all they would see was a stone sarcophagus holding Mr. Payman's remains.

  The portals were the only entrance to our world; the world of Death and his Reapers, a.k.a. Purgatory.

  I stepped through and the city greeted me. A wide expanse of dark stone buildings and gothic turrets dotted the light gray sky. Inky tendrils swirled and floated through the air, extending as far as the eye could see.

  The black smoke-like wisps were the souls that refused to move on––the phenoms.

  Whenever a soul tried to flee, they would instead "stick" to the Reapers until we returned to Purgatory, where they were sucked into the sky to wander aimlessly for all eternity.

  Poor bastards.

  I flew towards the main building, hoping to check-in and be done before I started my long weekend. I touched down on the slate steps and took a moment to compose myself before entering the massive castle.

  At present, I was the only female Reaper in Death's employ, but according to rumors, I wasn't sure how long that would be the case. It didn't surprise me; I'd been a huge help in lowering the numbers of lost souls, but to be honest, I wasn't sure if I wanted to share the title of "one and only."

  "Good evening, Raven.” My eyes shifted. Death's long bony fingers wrapped a staccato beat against the round heads that made up the armrests of his creepy skull throne. “How are you?"

  All Reapers worked for Death, but I doubted anyone in Purgatory actually liked being in his presence. Then again...maybe it was just me.

  "I'm great, thank you. I was just checking-in before I headed home."

  A smile played on his lips. "While I always enjoy seeing you, you shouldn't feel obligated to check-in with me. Your numbers are consistent and you haven't let me down yet."

  His words carried an edge that left me worried I'd somehow done exactly that. I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat, nodded and turned away.

  "Raven, a quick question before you leave?" Death asked, polite as always.

  A slow breath escaped my lips. So much for a speedy escape. I turned around slowly and plastered a smile on my face.

  "Sure. What's up?"

  "I've been thinking about bringing on another female Reaper––since you've proven to be such a valuable asset," he added. His leer made my skin crawl. "But I wanted to talk to you first, of course, before I made my final decision and see what you thought of the idea."

  Ha! Like he gave a damn what I thought. He'd do whatever he wanted and I knew without a doubt this was just his way of watching me squirm.

  I tossed my hair over my shoulder and smiled. "Actually, I think that's a great idea. I've been playing clean up for so long, it might be nice to have a little help around here."

  Hmph. I don't squirm.

  2

  I headed straight for Garrett's, my footfalls echoing loudly on the cobblestone street. He was my best friend, and if you needed information he was the person you went to. As Death's accountant, he was always in the know.

  The activity in his apartment was frenzied. Reapers rushed in and out, updating him with their totals. I was up to one-hundred and twenty-seven so far this month. Not too bad!

  "Hey, Raven, you look a little singed. Did you have to take another trip to Hell today?" Garrett's voice carried over the low rumble in the room.

  When I'd first become a Reaper I'd imagined having Garrett's job would've been great––sitting behind a desk, working from home, knowing all Death's juicy little secrets. But after witnessing how hard it was to keep up with the business-end of people dying, I quickly became very satisfied with my field assignment.

  "Nope. Just got back from saying 'Hey' to St. Peter. How about you? Rough day?"

  "Nah...just busy as usual. I'm getting ready to shut down, though, if you want to wait. We can go get a drink once I open the night drop."

  "Sounds good. I actually start my vacation tonight so I'm totally ready to get this party started!" I said, gyrating my hips in an awkward motion.

  Garrett's chest vibrated with a hearty laugh. He knew I wasn't a drinker and my idea of a vacation basically involved me sitting around my apartment, watching old movies, and taking dips out the window to fly amongst the souls. Yeah...I was kind of a hermit, so the idea of me "partying" was a pretty big joke.

  Garrett finished scratching pen to paper, then led the remaining Reapers from his apartment and threw the lock. With a swipe of his hand a horizontal mail slot appeared in the middle of his front door. People didn't stop dying just because it was the end of our day. Reapers worked twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three-hundred and sixty-five days a year. But Garrett was only one man and apparently the only man Death trusted with his assets. When Garrett wasn't working, we simply tossed our totals through the night drop. I'd often wondered if he got tired of waking up to a shit-ton of paperwork scattered in his entry every single morning, but he never complained.

  "So, have you heard anything else about Death wanting to bring on another female Reaper?"

  I couldn't hold my tongue any longer. Garrett had been the one who'd told me the rumor in the first place. At the time I'd been too shocked to actually consider it, but now, with Death throwing it in my face, I figured it was time I dug a little deeper.

  "Nope. Just the initial peek I caught through his gazing pool of a woman with white wings."

  "Hmm. So you haven't actually seen any paperwork about a new Reaper, just the image of a female in Death's magic puddle?" I couldn't help the skepticism or the sarcasm in my voice.

  "Well, yeah. You're the only Reaper with wings, Raven. Wings that he gave you when he recruited you. I assumed he was doing the same thing with her."

  "That makes sense, I guess." I stuck my hands in my pockets and continued to walk towards the bar as the memories of my rebirth flooded my mind.

  In my human life I'd been an RN; a single nurse completely focused on my career. My parents had passed when I was in my teens and I didn't have any siblings. At the age of twenty-two, I'd died alone from a disorder called TIAs; Transient Ischemic Attacks.

  It was something I'd suffered with for most of my life, the episodes usually passing after a few minutes. This particular time, however, it didn't pass; it killed me.

  A blood clot had moved through a small vein in my brain, causing stroke like symptoms. When I realized this attack was different from any other I'd experienced before, I'd struggled to reach the phone. My hand was inches short of the receiver when my body collapsed on the living room floor. Once my spirit rose out of my body I was greeted by a Reaper––Daniels if I remember correctly––but just as I'd reached for his hand, another appeared and shooed him away.

  I had stood face-to-face with Death himself, and he wasn't at all what I expected. Tall and thin...yes, almost skeletal to a point, and creepy as hell. But it was the black designer suit and midnight blue tie that completely threw me, not to mention the utter politeness and charm he displayed. The contradiction between the myth and the man was glaringly obvious.

  I stood there, completely stunned, as he offered me a job. He explained it was a once in a lifetime opportunity and if I were to accept, he'd give me special "perks" that no other Reaper had––wings.

  I'd collapsed back onto the couch, dumfounded and still in shock over my sudden departure from the human world. I couldn't fathom th
e afterlife I was being offered, but couldn't deny that the idea of continuing on as someone so special was indeed a heady thought.

  My life had been filled with mild successes but nothing I'd consider remarkable. I'd never stood out in any way. But suddenly, in the moment of my death, I'd been given an opportunity to become something extraordinary. The chance to further my career or better myself in any way had ended the second my heart had stopped. But as a Reaper, I'd be able to help those who'd lost their life's battle and be the one to guide them to their final peace. The allure of that was overwhelming, and simply something I couldn't pass up. However, I didn't accept his offer right away. Instead, I'd spent what seemed like hours drilling Death about the details of his organization and what the job would entail. He'd explained my duties, all while trying to convince me that it would be great, that I would have my own apartment and all the earthly things I could ever want.

  I couldn't have cared less about those things, but considering the alternative, I finally agreed...on one condition. He had to give me my wings right then and there––before I went anywhere with him––to prove he was for real. I was flabbergasted when he actually did.

  One moment, I was my normal human self––albeit in spirit form, and in the next, Death materialized a raven out of thin air and melded the creature to my back. I was instantly transformed from Raven––the twenty-something nurse who'd just died, into Raven––the first female Reaper in history with black wings and the power of Death flowing through her. I took my new employer's hand and disappeared, emerging back in his chamber. Death showed me to my new apartment and introduced me to Garrett, who had me sign some papers before winking at me as I'd left his office.

  The following day Death hosted a grand party where he announced my arrival.

  It was chaos.

  An entire world of male Reapers pulsed with anticipation of having a female within their midst, but when Death declared I was to remain un-touched––at the risk of their final deaths––the excitement quickly turned to disdain. I'd instantly become the one thing they all wanted but could never have.