Raven's Breath (The Women of Purgatory)
Read Raven's Breath (The Women of Purgatory) Online
Authors: Tish Thawer
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
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.
Contents
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.
"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 u
nceremoniously pushed me inside, slammed the door, spun me around, and pressed my back against it.
"W
hat 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..." H
e grabbed my arm and pulled me to the mirror hanging next to the front door.
"
...Heaven has marked you.”
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, the 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...
R
eaper
P
ortal, 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 portal
s 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. The
n again...maybe it was just me.
"I'm great, thank you. I was just che
cking-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 throa
t, nodded and turned away.