Reapers by Kim Richardson Page A

corridors that
became lost in shadows.
    It was not the Chief. It was a man
Kara had never seen before. She knew right away by his size that he
was an archangel. But he was very different from the rest of them.
While the other archangels were all beautiful, his face was
ordinary.
    He was a little pudgy around the
middle, and yet his strong, square shoulders were a reminder that
he had once been fit and strong. He wore a charcoal-gray suit and
shiny black shoes. His thin, straw-colored hair was drawn back from
his receding hairline. He looked like a typical middle-aged man. He
could be anyone’s neighbor, nothing special. Nothing about him made
him stand out, except that he wore sunglasses and was smoking a
thick cigar.
    He took a long drag of his cigar and
blew out a cloud of smoke in the shape of a star. He tapped the
ashes loose from his cigar.
    “ Well, well, well, if it
isn’t the infamous David McGowan and his beloved Kara
Nightingale—the one with the mark .”
    He frowned.
    “ They weren’t kidding when
they said that you looked like a ghost. Not sure I like the look,
though. It might have been in fashion back in the late seventeen
hundreds, but you should really get with the program. Maybe next
time you should try to stay solid —nobody likes a girl who looks
dead, angel or not.”
    His face turned to David and laughed
like it was a private joke they shared. “If you know what I
mean?”
    “ Who are you?” asked Kara,
as her dislike for the archangel rose. She moved
forward.
    The man’s smile widened. “Ah-hah,
right to the point! I like that.”
    Suddenly a group of twelve very
beautiful guardian angel women appeared behind the archangel like a
private entourage. They were dressed in identical skin-tight, black
dresses, red high heels, sunglasses, and bright red lipstick. If it
weren’t for the soul blades in their hands, they would have looked
like they were about to perform in a music video.
    The man cleared his throat. “Let me
introduce myself. I’m Metatron, and I’m here to kill
you.”

Chapter 5
    Metatron
     
     
     
    K ara was trapped. The tips of her fingers tingled with nervous
energy.
    The group of women ushered them into a
dark hall. Kara could only see high ceilings and a stairway with
banisters that led to a passageway above. As her eyes grew
accustomed to the light she distinguished at least five burning
fireplaces and lavish tapestries.
    The walls were hung with paintings of
Metatron: Metatron lounging on a chaise longue, being fed grapes by
a woman; Metatron sitting in a golden throne, being fed more grapes
by another woman; Metatron in a plié ballet stance wearing
baby-blue tights, being fed grapes by a woman; and most
disturbingly one particular painting of Metatron standing proudly,
drinking a cup of wine, and wearing only a leaf.
    She felt ill, and she could see that
David was frowning. It was the look he had when he was scheming
something. She knew he was trying to figure out a plan of escape.
Under different circumstances, he would have been the first to try
to make her jealous by flirting with the gorgeous and voluptuous
women, but he didn’t even look at them, not really.
    Metatron had said he was
going to kill them, but she knew he only meant her . He was going to kill her. But
what did that mean? Was he planning to deliver her an angel’s true
death? Or was he planning to erase her from both worlds? Would she
die forever and never come back as a mortal or an angel?
    The thought of never seeing her mother
again made her shudder. She clamped her trembling fingers into
fists and kept moving forward. She didn’t want David to see her
fear.
    Metatron strolled ahead of them, his
chin in the air, as though he owned the world. He stopped suddenly
and squished the remains of his used-up cigar with his polished
shoe. He pulled another cigar from the folds of his jacket, bit off
the tip, and spat it on the floor. Then he snapped his fingers. The
nearest angel, a woman with