There wasn't much out in the world, living or dead, that managed to frighten Micah. He was a tried and true reaper veteran. He'd worked almost every major disaster in human history, and have seen and learned things that would rattle even some angels from their comfort level. He was the darkness that crept under humanity and gave them comfort when their time on earth was done. Yet nothing could have ever prepared him for such a challenge.

Reapers didn't date.

Hell, even the ones that were serious about their jobs, like him, didn't even get laid. It was pure sacrilege. You were to know the world but not be of it. It was an ironclad rule of being a Reaper.

Rubbing his temples, he groaned. What the hell did he get himself into this whole mission has been one cluster after the next. It was then he started to realize that he would most likely be on his hands and knees crawling and begging to have his job back after this one was done, if he managed to survive his encounter with Azrael. He would never be able to live it up.

Standing up, Micah cursed himself for being there alone. He needed Saffron. Desperately. What the hell would he do on a date? Should he just say no? Seemed like the smartest thing to do. Pacing a bit in front of the sofa, he tried to ignore the sounds and humming from Briseis in her room. Tired of hearing the preacher blaring on the TV, he finally turned it off with a huff. Any human that thought they had the world completely figured out were terrifying...and delusional.

Turning his attention back to Briseis, he frowned at her door. She was getting ready, so he needed to do the same. Looking at his clothes, he sighed. He had no other clothing except what he wore. He picked up a bit of his black shirt and smelled it. Kinda rosy, kinda not, he thought.

Just then, Briseis walked out her room wearing a soft coral tunic and jeans that flaunted her curves flawlessly. Her hair was pinned up into a messy bun complete with a soft pink ribbon. Stray tendrils fluttered past her temples and Micah found himself staring. Her sweet, delicate features were hard to ignore and he felt that familiar pull to her again.

Carrying a pair of flats in her hand, she looked up to see Micah standing there looking like a lost pup. She grunted, figuring as much. She laughed as she braced herself against the door frame, slipping her shoes on. "You're not going to wear that are you?"

"Um, you know? Perhaps this isn't a good idea." Micah warned.

She held up her hand. "Hold on a min." She walked into her room and after a few moments returned with a dark blue t-shirt in her hands. Marching over to him, she placed it in his hands. "Here. This should fit you. You look like you're going to a funeral in all that black."

Micah unbundled the t-shirt to inspect it. He looked back at her with furrowed brows. "What's a 'Deftones?'.

Briseis smiled. "It's a badass band I went to see in concert many years ago when I was cool. It's all I have left of a semblance of teenage joy, so don't mess it up."

Micah shook his head and tried to hand it back, "Well, if it's that sentimental, then maybe I should--"

"No, please." She insisted. "Just wear it. Chances are it'll look better on you than it did on me. And I don't usually get to say something like that to a dude."

Micah turned around and peeled off his shirt to hear Briseis gasp. His lean chest bare to her, he turned around to see Briseis staring at him as if she'd seen a ghost.

He froze as she stepped closer with that curious, concerned look on her face, her hand slightly covering her mouth. Forgetting about his mark, he found himself vulnerable to her intrigued gaze. "What's the matter?"

Briseis didn't answer, but gravitated to him. She wanted him to turn around to confirm what she'd seen. His gorgeous back was marred with deep, puckered red lashes across his flesh. They looked like the markings of a whip. Down the length of his spine were black markings in strange writing from the nape of his neck down to the base of his back. It was as beautiful as it was menacing. "What was that?"

Micah shrugged thinking he only referred to his reaper mark. "It's just words about who I was and who I will be. We call it the mark. Every soul that becomes a reaper has one. It's written in the Divine language and meant to be placed behind us, as who we were no longer matters as much as what we have yet to be." Seeing that her face didn't soften in comfort, he nodded. "It just looks like a tattoo Briseis, and it didn't hurt if that's what you're concerned about." He began to pull the t-shirt over him when she finally spoke.

"What about those other marks on your back?" Her eyes stared into him, her expression growing more heartbroken as she looked at him.

Micah paused, puzzled. "Other marks?"

Briseis softly nodded. "They look to be whip marks." She stepped forward almost reaching for him. "Who did that to you, Micah?"

Micah quickly pulled the t-shirt over him, finally covering his torso from her gaze. He didn't realize his human marks and scars began to show already. I've been down here too long..., he thought. Something pulsed within him as he watched Briseis' soft eyes linger on him. ...Obviously. She was looking through him again, but this time it intrigued rather than alarm him. He didn't want to spoil her joy. Seeing her smile did something to him. Whatever it was, he couldn't name but it was pleasant all the same. "That was a very, very long time ago, Briseis. A time when I was human, so I don't even remember what happened. It's fine."

Briseis didn't look too convinced. In fact, her heart ached for him. Those didn't look like just a punishment; they were ghastly and looked so painful. Who would've done something like that to him?

He offered her a gentle smile seeing the conflict in her eyes. It wasn't pity. More like caring. How odd for her to have such a reaction. "Please don't worry about it. It is the past. Let's worry about the present, as that' s difficult enough." Between a rock and a hard place, he made the call to put focus on the date to prevent her from going down a road he wasn't prepared for just yet. "Like, what are we going to do on this...date?"

Briseis shook her head, trying to put the vision out of her head. The idea of someone hurting or torturing Micah didn't sit well with her. Sure, he had his scary moments, but there was something alluring about him that threatened to make him fun to be around. Her eyes looked up at him and she swore she felt the floor tremor a bit. Clearing her throat, she stepped away from him. "Um, I'm thinking about going to Dusty's and getting a bite to eat. They make the best fried crawfish po-boys and they should have a warning on those hand grenades they make."

"Hand grenades?" Micah asked in confusion.

Briseis smiled. "It's a drink, but if the name of it serves any purpose, it's to invoke fear in those with balls to drink it."

Micah scratched his head, albeit amused by her description. Again, this world has far too many details. "And after you partake in food and a highly suspect alcoholic drink named after a volatile type of explosives?"

Briseis waved her hand that held her clutch, beckoning him to come on. "We'll just hop around and see what happens. It's an adventure." A sense of excitement rushed through her thinking about getting out of the house. She pointed at Osiris as he sat by her bedroom door licking himself. "Don't wait up for us, O!"

Micah sighed as he followed her out the door, wondering what was in store for them on the night of his first date.

***

Abraham sat quietly at the tables near Central Station, watching the droves of reapers and handlers go about their work. Everyone so wrapped in their programming, he wondered if any of them had any obstacles hanging over them at all. Reapers made it look so easy sometimes. Some working around the clock, some on disaster detail such as plane crashes and epidemics. And some on special assignments. Looking at the almost unreadable faces, one would never know how much they dealt with.

So when Abraham suddenly saw a reaper with a face filled with the fury of Azrael's wrath, he couldn't help but to take immediate notice. His eyes gravitated to Gideon on the other end of Central Station. His arms crossed and body ridged, the proud, high ranking reaper appeared highly agitated, but he wasn't alone. There were two other known reapers who also shared that same angry expression on their faces. Abraham watched the group and their body language. Though he couldn't read lips, a curve began to grow on his own set. There could be really one thing pissing reapers off. The only thing they couldn't control...

Abraham stood up and started to walk over to them. He stopped abruptly when he noticed Saffron at her post. He stopped and watched quietly, hoping she would not see him. When she began to organize items behind the counter, Abraham continued to pursue the group, darting and moving through the gauntlet of reapers.

Finally, when he got closer, he gave a welcoming smile to Gideon. "Hey, guys. How are you?"

His innocent smile was met with flat stares and silence from the others. Now that he was closer, he was able to recognize the other two as Essence and Victor. They were not super close but about as tight as a clique of reapers could possibly be. Essence was the youngest of the group, crossing over just a century ago. She stood with her arms folded. Her hair twisted up into two brown buns and curly tendrils framing her face. Her soft face was hardened by frustration. Victor was once as high ranking as Micah. In fact, he, Micah and Gideon were in tight competition at one time. Victor wanted nothing but to be the best. When Micah was chosen over all others, some say it kinda broke him. He didn't fault Micah, because it wasn't his choice, but from there he kept making mistake after mistake, dropping further from the ranks. Now, he was a regular Joe of the world of reapers--unpopular and unassuming. Victor nodded at Abraham, but didn't speak.

Gideon reached out to shake Abraham's hand, still offering nothing more than a flat, tired face. His voice was just as hollow. "What's up, Abe?"

"I couldn't help but see the long faces. What's going on, brothers" He turned to Essence and nodded. "And sister."

Gideon leaned against the wall, frustration finally peeking. "That witch screwed me over. The one that the Pale Rider hunts."

Essence scoffed. "If he's hunting, then he's doing a piss-poor job at it." She turned to face Abraham. "You heard about the necromancer that keeps taking our souls after we've reaped them, right?"

Abraham nodded. "Yes, of course. So Micah was sent to collect her?"

Gideon shook his head. "Not even. All he had to do was to give her the freakin' horror and tell her to either do as she's told, or die my a reaper's hand. And what happens? I catch that little witch red-handed, resurrecting a soul I had already claimed!" Gideon looked around, checking his volume. "Me and my handler are beside ourselves! Micah was there! He was there and didn't do shit!"

Abraham sighed watching Essence and Victor shake their heads in disbelief. Sooo, it seems that he wasn't the only one that could see the Micah was failing at his mission. He couldn't keep a simple necromancer from undoing all the hard work, the reapers where doing for souls. And yet Azrael wanted to put all his faith in him? Ha! The Pale Rider...Micah didn't deserve that title. Micah made a mistake humiliating him. Now his turn was coming. He was going to pay and with luck, find himself at the bottom of the ranks. All he needed was to work the naysayers into a frenzy. "Wow. I can't believe that! Micah just let that happen in spite of his duties as a reaper and to his brethern?" He shook his head, shock rode on his face, though disingenuous. "That's deplorable. He has a job to do. We can't spend all our energy pulling souls, just for some necromancer who doesn't know her place to come and steal them back!"

Victor shushed him quietly. "I agree, but we all know we can't touch Micah. He's chosen by Azrael as head reaper. He carries his name for Heaven's sake. All we can do is hope he brings this to a close before he destroys all our progress."

Gideon eyed Victor with annoyance. Of course, he would choose to toe the party line. The one with the least amount to lose. Victor barely got out of disaster duty. That's all Azrael felt he was good for. At least collecting souls then would be child's play. Gideon on the other hand, had roughly the same level of experience as The Pale Rider. They had even worked together on some tough reapings. He didn't want Micah's role, but he damn well wanted the level of respect for his hard work. Hard work that was being torn down thanks to him toying around with that necromancing paramedic. "What if he fails?"

Abraham shrugged. "He's already failing, if you ask me. Look at all of you. You're worried and the one reaper who should care about all of this is down there doing who knows what." Just then a spark lit in Abraham's thinking. A sense of warmth crept over him as an idea formed in his head. "You know...someone needs to talk some sense into him, or else..."

Essence scoffed. "Or else what? We hurt him? I've sparred with Micah before on both planes. Trust me, that ain't happening. Why he made light work of you just a few days ago in this very station, Abe."

As if he needed to be reminded. "I'm not talking about hurting him. Not at all. I'm saying that we have no idea what he's up to down there. What if he's been compromised?"

Victor, Gideon and Essence all looked him in the mouth and chortled a laugh.

Gideon shook his head. "Right." he quickly sobered. "Look, Micah is a pain in the ass, but I've known him longer than most. That bastard barely has a heart. Ever look into his eyes? Sumbitch is like ice. All he knows is the job and the mission. I can't imagine him of all reapers emotionally compromised."

Abraham nodded. "Yeah, Azrael would lose his shit." They didn't see what he saw in the Eye. There was something about that witch and how Micah reacted to her. He was itching to visit the mortal coil and see what that asshole was doing down there. "But if he was, that would be the ultimate betrayal, am I right? We couldn't expect to trust him to handle the witch on his own. Which means we would need to intervene."

Essence grunted in agreement. "I see Abe's point." She nudged Gideon. "Hell, we can all take that witch down. Easy. We make an example out of her, too. In case her friends get any ideas, you know?" She brushed a stray hair from her face. "It would help all of us, since Micah's too chicken shit to do it." A wicked smirk grew on her flawless face, as if she was ready for a cover shoot. But none of the reapers fell for her charms. Essence's chilly demeanor frosted over anything she touched. Hate wasn't a word reapers chose to use, but everyone knew that Essence only tolerated a few...and hated everyone.

Gideon thought about it. Micah told him to his face that he was 'working on it'. But what the hell did that even mean? He hated to admit that his trust was wavering on the dedication of The Pale Rider, and Abraham of all people had a point. He was Azrael's prize, so what was taking him so long? They needed results. Gideon watched Saffron eyeing them from her post and an eerie feeling chilled his face. Her eyes seemed dark so far away. Nearly black. Everyone had something quirky about their handler, even Gideon, whose handler loved singing showtunes and even writing the lyrics on his clearance sheets. But Saffron was different. As nice and bubbly as she was, she gave Gideon the creeps. Not only that, but the long-time handler was fiercely loyal to Micah. He'd seen her represent him in mission rundowns and seemed to be on good terms with Azrael himself. If they were going to challenge all of that, they needed proof that Micah was compromised. "No, not yet. Too risky." He looked at all of them, trying to ignore the fact that Saffron was slowly moving from her post towards them. "We need proof that he's screwing up and I'm not on mission till two more days. Anyone able to go down there sooner?"

Among the head shakes from Victor and Essence, Abe nodded. "I can. I have a mission tonight. And I'll see what The Pale Rider is up to."

Gideon nodded. "Okay. Let us know what you find out. Till then, no one visits the witch alright?" He eyed Essence specifically. "Alright?"

Essence grimaced. "Alright! Geez." She tightened her black coat. "Let's get outta here. I don't like to hang in the station unless I have work to do."

Gideon pat Abraham on the shoulder. "I'll talk to you soon, brother." With that, they all walked off, including Victor. Abraham watched them as they weaved through the sea of reapers and handlers and a smile threatened to invade his stoic face. It was like providence wanted him to do this. In a few hours, he'll be meeting his handler for clearance to fall to earth and reap a soul. Then, he'll finally get to see what Micah as doing. You can't bullshit a bullshitter, Micah.

He turned around and jumped at seeing Saffron standing behind him, nearly glaring up at him. She looked normal enough, but he took a small step back as a precaution. "What do you need Saffron?"

She stood quiet, folding her arms in defense. It was too far to hear what he and the others were saying, but given that Abe was there with a distressed Gideon, it probably wasn't good. She considered beating it out of him, but even she had some couth. "Just making sure we're still on the same page, reaper. Is Gideon alright?"

Abraham scoffed. "Perhaps you should ask Micah. He's the one that apparently screwed him out of a ranking. The Pale Rider is late on delivering so Gideon got a black mark anyway. What kinda operation you running, handler?" He looked down at her, remembering that despite her getting the drop on him earlier, he could really hurt her if he wanted to. But her threat of giving him disaster duty kept him sober.

Saffron sensed the challenge in his voice and she rolled her eyes. She didn't have time for games and she had to be mindful of who witnessed her. "Careful, now. I wouldn't want you to take another spill like you did earlier." She walked past him in her usual peppy stride. "I'm watching you, Abe." As she continued on, a sense of worry plagued her, hoping that sending Micah down there wasn't a mistake that would destroy not only him, but Briseis as well.

***

There was an old saying that was inappropriately attributed to Ecclesiastes that Micah felt described the night perfectly. Micah walked alongside Briseis as the sights and sounds of the festive environment consumed him. The chilly autumn breeze felt good against Micah's skin as he let the energetic necromancer drag him around town. He turned to her as she stuffed a piece of funnel cake in her mouth and smiled. "They say eat, drink and be merry. For tomorrow we die." She smacked her lips. "Those old dudes from the good book certainly knew what they were talking about. You know, my mom used to say the same thing." Briseis sucked the pastey sugar off her thumb.

Actually, though he didn't know her mother, he wasn't surprised she had that belief. "A lot of humans take that line of thinking. It's more of a calling to enjoy what you can because tomorrow is not promised."

"Well, no one knows the truth of that more than you, my grim reaper." Briseis passed him a soft smile as they walked on. For some reason she anticipated him being skittish being around so many people and clearly outside his comfort zone. However, his long, confident stride alongside her proved otherwise. His eyes watched everything, but there was nothing skittish about Micah. She caught a few ladies staring at him as they shuffled by but this actually didn't surprise her. His tall, fit frame complete with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes was hard to miss and a woman would have to be damn near dead not to take interest.

Micah shook his head. "Azrael is the grim reaper, not me. I'm just a number two."

Briseis chortled. "Wow, cause that's not important at all," she joked. "Guess I should be flattered that he only wanted the best to come after me." She stuffed another piece of funnel cake in her mouth. "You sure you don't want any?"

Her cheeks slighly round with cake stuffed in her mouth, he shook his head. "No thanks. I thought we were going for dinner." He pointed at her full cheeks as she chewed. "That is not dinner."

Briseis grinned. "It could if I wanted it to. Eating what you want makes you an adult."

"An adult that wishes they were a kid," he quipped with a raised eyebrow.

With feigned laughter, she threw the paper plate away in a nearby trash can and continued walking. "I don't expect you to get it. Afterall, only humans that eat can judge me. Speaking of which, we never figured out what happened to my pizza..."

He sighed. "Briseis..."

She suddenly grabbed his arm as she finally spotted Dusty's and gasped with excitement. "There it is! I haven't been there in sooo long. Me and mom used to eat here!" Pointing at the sign a half block down, Briseis' eyes lit up. Memories of laughing and dancing with her mother popped into her head and warmed her insides.

Something within Micah's soul brightened seeing her so giddy. It also didn't help that her arm stayed wrapped around his bicep. Could feel the warmth of her lithe fingers on his body. It felt...normal. Comfortable, which he did not expect. No one touched him so casually. Before he could put a real name to the feeling, she slowly released him.

She laughed walking in front of him backwards. "You're going to definitely warm up to this place."

Like I have with you. And it's frightening, he thought. Only offered a curt grunt as a vocal response.

"It's got everything!" She counted off with her fingers. "There's live music, food, dancing..

Dancing? Shit. "Great."

Briseis heard the flat tone of indifference in his deep voice. "Relax, my apocalyptic friend. I won't force you on the dance floor." Her mother always seemed to get asked to dance when they went there, so maybe she had the same luck. It was a dance hall, after all. She stole another look at her date. It was a shame, really. She would've liked the idea of dancing with him. Don't get greedy. I'm amazed he even allowed me to drag him out. I'm sure this is definitely not in his job description. Briseis looked into his deep blues as they walked. So why is he doing this? The realization of him being out there with her as she stepped out on her mother's birthday, warmed her in a way that shocked her. I wonder what my mom would've thought of this guy showing up on my arm?

Micah noticed the odd look on her face as if she was pondering something. "You alright?"

She blinked. "Yep."

As they entered Dusty's, the hostess helped them get seated on the restaurant side. The music was from a live band in the far end and played upbeat zydeco. The patrons were dressed casually and the house buzzed with the sounds of clanging plates, music and chatter. Micah pulled out the chair for Briseis before sitting down, only to see a grin on her face.

He looked at her with innocence. "What?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. Thank you." She opened the menu as a waiter approached them.

"Good evening you two. I'm your waiter, Lucas. What can I start you guys off to drink?"

Briseis leaned the menu against her as she looked up at him. "Um, I'll take a Hand Grenade and a glass of water. And so will my date over there as well as two fully loaded crawfish po-boys with cajun fries and lots and lots of Dusty's hot sauce."

The waiter smiled as he picked up their menus. "Sounds good ma'am. I'll work on those beverages and put in your order. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you so much!" Briseis moved a stray hair off her face as the waiter walked off. "Man, I'm famished. You're gonna love some of this local fare. And their hot sauce?" She kissed her fingers. "Hurts so good."

Micah shook his head in amazement. "I don't think I understand the whole fixation of spice for the mortal palette. Why eat something that's unpleasant?"

Briseis shrugged. "I wouldn't say its unpleasant. Everyone's got a boundary. My boundary hasn't been found yet." Just then, the waiter came and sat down their drinks and water. "Thanks!"

Micah paused as a green drink was sat in front of him next to his glass of water. "No boundaries, um? I think you're revealing a lot more than your tolerance for spice." He pointed at the green alcoholic drink. "What is this?"

Briseis smiled as she pushed hers aside. "A local drink. You'll like it, but wait till we eat first." She watched him staring at the drink like a creeped-out adult anticipating a jack in the box opening. He sipped his water, staring at it. She couldn't help but laugh. "Stand down, soldier, it's not gonna attack us. And for your information, I have boundaries."

Micah raised a scrutinizing brow at her comment.

She cleared her throat. "Okay, sometimes I can play with those boundaries, but all in all I have them. I'm just...willful sometimes."

That was the understatement of the century, if not longer for Micah. Her willfulness is what brought him here. What led him to have to scare her into submission--not that that actually worked. As much as he hated to admit, she seemed to effortlessly coerce him into adjusting to this boundary-breaking. She was in fact more intriguing than he'd thought and now that she had somehow bewitched him into going along with her tonight, part of him wondered if he had any control over her at all. Maybe it was a lie he was telling himself, because it wasn't as if he put up a fight not to being with her. Did I pity her?

That was just another lie.

She didn't have to ask him. In fact, he was sure Mr. Clueless would've done anything to get her to be his date tonight. The roses, the note...he wanted her and probably couldn't have made it more clear. He looked deep into those bright, turquoise eyes. However, despite her knowing that...

She chose me.

###

I know, I know. I'm sorry to leave you hanging! But this is all I could crank out on this story right now. I need to get back to my work that has a hard deadline at the end of May. Just hang tight, I'm not finished and I owe you another chapter, which I'll get back to when I can do another chapter of Kiss of the Fallen, which is my official work in progress! Thanks for reading and enjoying this book. I've been told it's very different than what they've read before and this pleases me HAHA! Thanks for your continued support and readership!