At the Stroke of Midnight (3 page)

productive. They did nothing to improve the family finances, and they didn't marry and

have children to carry on the name. But they did manage to hold onto Greystone through

the stock market crash. In the thirties and forties, they threw lavish parties and many of

the older residents remember them fondly."

Midnight sat up and meticulously groomed his belly, while Olivia held him to

keep him from losing his balance on the uneven perch of her lap. Suddenly, before she

could react, he sprang to the floor and started sniffing around the trash cans.

"No, Midnight!" she scolded, but she went to the warming ovens and pulled out

an appetizer. She placed it on a paper plate and set it on the floor. The cat licked the bit of

ham and cheese then hunkered down to eat.

"What happened then?" he asked, prompting her to continue the story.

"Well, the brothers were the last of the Greys, so when they died in the fifties, the

castle went to Glenville. For years, the city didn't know what to do with it. They

occasionally rented it out for private functions, but it has been in a bad state of disrepair

for years. The brothers had put no money into its upkeep, and the city couldn't afford it.

After a time, people forgot it was here. A few years ago, the city council made plans to

demolish it and sell the land for development. Some of us decided that shouldn't happen."

"And you organized the committee," he said softly.

Olivia smiled. "Well, yes, it was my idea. But everyone else on the committee and

many, many others worked just as hard. After we spread the word, donations and support

came pouring in. We've spent three years fixing it up. We'll have our first renaissance

faire next spring, and so far, half a dozen weddings are booked for next summer. We've

proved the castle can generate revenue for the city and the masquerade ball tonight is to

celebrate."

The screech of the screen room door announced Davy's return. Again, Olivia

wondered how Death had entered the kitchen without making any noise. Davy grinned at

her and politely nodded to the stranger, then opened a warming oven and pulled out

another tray of food. "I don't think any of these people have eaten in a month!"

Olivia moved closer to Davy. "Do you know who he is?" she whispered.

16

"Sure," Davy said and set the last tray on the cart. He leaned close to her ear and

said in low, sepulchral tones, "The Gr-r-rim-m-m R-r-reaper-r-r. Mwhaahahahahaha!"

Giggling, she swatted him toward the door. Davy always could make her laugh

even when there was nothing in her life that was the least bit funny. Still chuckling, Davy

opened the door then snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot. Margot wants you to meet her

up on the catwalk."

The laughter died in her throat. She didn't know if she could make it up three

flights of stone steps. The ache had eased somewhat, but the strain of climbing stairs

would not be good. "What does she want? Is something wrong?"

Davy shrugged. "She didn't say. Want me to do it?"

"No, I'll go. Some of the decoration might be coming loose." She and Margot had

spent hours hanging orange and black crepe streamers, pumpkins, bats, and cats along the

balustrade of the catwalk, which looked out over the bailey.

"Let me know if you need help," Davy offered and left with the loaded cart.

"You," she said to the cat, stroking his velvety fur as she picked him up. "I'll have

to put you out. You fit in with the decor, but some people get skittish around a black cat,

especially tonight."

"Don't put him outside," Death said suddenly. "He'll not live out the hour. Keep

him inside if you want him safe."

"I told you--" Another rumble cut off her words, and bright lightning filled the

windows. She hesitated. She knew it was a trick...but how could it be? No one could

control the thunder and lightning or know when it would occur. Coincidence, nothing

more.

"All right," she conceded, not knowing why she gave in. She was just too tired to

argue and in too much discomfort to fight the scheme unfolding around her. The lure of

the catwalk was part of it, of course. "He should be safe in one of the storage rooms. I'll

give him some more of the appetizers. Then maybe he'll take a nap and stay out of the

way."

Death went to the warming oven and heaped the paper plate with tasty morsels.

Olivia led the way to one of the smaller rooms. She arranged a pile of clean cloths into a

bed and gave Midnight one last stroke as she tried to set him down. He clung to the front

of her dress, meowing mournfully.

17

"I'll come for you after the ball is over, Midnight," she promised, easing his claws

from the bodice of her dress. She shut the door and turned to face Death. "I have to go

meet Margot now. I don't know who you are, but--"

"Don't you?"

His abrupt question startled her and she frowned. "Sometimes I think I almost

do...but no. Enjoy the party."

She started across the kitchen.

18

~*~

He wanted to sweep her into his arms and take her far away until this night had

ended and she was safe from whatever harm was fated for her. But he felt that even if he

did, watching the dawn with her on some distant mountain, when he checked her

hourglass, only a few grains would still be left to fall. The danger would always exist for

her unless he could keep her away from everything and everyone she knew and loved.

That he could not do.

No, it was better to let her destiny play out. They would find the source, and he

would be here to intercede. Then Olivia could have the long life he envisioned for her.

"I'll come with you," he said and followed her across the room.

She stopped and waited for him, smiling. "I welcome the company. It's going to

be a long walk."

Her limp became more pronounced as they went through the screen room and

skirted the crowd. He had watched her all evening as she moved about the Great Hall

with poise and grace. She hadn't faltered at all until the other woman had made her

cutting remarks and she turned, running into him. He regretted he hadn't timed his

appearance at her side better.

She spoke to several people before they reached a roped-off area in front of the

first flight of stairs. She placed one foot on the bottom step and used the wall to steady

herself.

"Shall I carry you?" he offered.

Her eyebrow rose and her lips curved into a fleeting smile. She looked as if she

didn't believe he was strong enough to support her weight. The shade he had become was

of no more substance than mist, and the form he had now taken was thin and frail, a body

he hadn't inhabited in millennia.

"No, thank you. I can manage."

19

He almost sighed in relief. Touching her--as much as his fingers ached to stroke

her skin--meant experiencing the moment of her death, and he didn't think he could have

withstood the anguish. When he had touched the fur of the black cat, he had known and

recoiled from the expiration of its life. He should not have warned Olivia, but he knew

she would be deeply saddened by the animal's demise.

He remained one step below her in case her limb failed.

"I was seven when it happened," she began. She took the stairs one at a time,

placing her uninjured leg on the next step, bracing herself against the wall, then pulling

herself up. "A week after my seventh birthday. Margot's birthday had been a month

earlier. Her parents had given her a used bike because they couldn't afford a new one. It

had been well cared for, but it was an ugly green color. I received a bike for my birthday,

too. It was pink and shiny with purple streamers hanging from the handlebars."

She paused before pulling her injured leg up to the next step, as if anticipating the

discomfort it would cause was worse than actually experiencing it. After a few moments,

she took a deep breath and continued up the stairs

"Margot was terribly jealous. I told her we could paint hers and I'd let her have

one of my streamers. Then they'd be just alike. But Margot ran off in a huff, and I didn't

see her for a week."

At the landing, she stopped to rest. The other two flights loomed above them.

She turned to face him. "Am I boring you?"

"Not at all," he reassured. "I want to hear the story."

He knew the outcome, but he wanted to hear the details of what had happened. He

also enjoyed the sound of her voice, like spun sugar and twilight and lavender--all things

soft, sweet, and lovely.

She leaned back against the wall. "The next time I saw her, she challenged me to

a race. I'd only been riding a week, and I was still quite wobbly and unsure. I agreed. I

thought if Margot won, she'd see that her bike was as good as mine and we could be

friends again. We lived out in the country, mostly wooded area. Ditches and gullies lined

the road and kudzu draped over most everything like a green patchwork quilt. Margot

picked Jones' Hill and we took off."

She blinked as if holding back tears at the memories. She swallowed hard. "Well,

I held on for dear life, and prayed I would remember how to brake when I reached the

bottom. Margot didn't shoot past me like I thought she would. She stayed even with me.

20

Then she must have lost control because her bike ran into mine. I swerved off the road

and into a gully in the woods. A layer of kudzu concealed its true depth, and I crashed at

the bottom."

He nodded but she didn't see him. He remembered it vividly. He had come to take

her, but he could not. Half-conscious, she lay in a crumpled heap, her limbs wound

around the pretty pink bicycle. Her red hair, more like dark copper when she was a child,

glittered in the dappled sunlight that fell through the trees.

He wanted then, as now, to touch her pale cheek, but doing so then would have

freed her soul. He had watched her shallow breaths, and the last remnant of his humanity

stirred. Compassion awakened in him, at first a thin trickle, then a flood. He hadn't

experienced it or any other emotion since he'd been chosen and given the role of a soul

reaper.

He had known then it signified the beginning of the end of his turn at reaping. He

wasn't the first and he wouldn't be the last. Many soul reapers retained a spark of

humanity buried deep within them, and it emerged when they least expected it.

He had vanished without taking Olivia. He could give her that. Each soul reaper

was allowed three options where he could choose not to take a soul. One might be a

momentary lapse. Another indicated the reaper's humanity was growing stronger, but

could still be suppressed if the desire was great enough. A third meant the reaper had

allowed his humanity to flourish and become just as important to him as his grim duty.

The fourth time--and the last--ended his term as reaper.

He didn't know what happened afterwards. Was the reaper's own soul reaped for

the other side? Or did he merely wink out of existence? Neither prospect frightened him.

Only Olivia's continued life concerned him. Utilizing his power in a way that had not

been intended, to manifest his former body, he had guaranteed the end of his term as

reaper. He was being allowed to play out what he had begun, but after saving Olivia, he

did not know what would happen to him at the stroke of midnight.

Twice more during her life he had come to take her, but each time he'd left

without doing so. He wanted her to grow, mature, and live a happy life. He wanted her

with silver hair and feathery wrinkles lacing her skin before she was taken, quietly and

painlessly, in her sleep.

Olivia pushed away from the wall. "I don't remember much after the accident--

only a few faint images that I can't quite recall, haunt my dreams. I woke up in the

21

hospital two days later. I couldn't walk for a long time. There were operations and

therapy, braces and crutches for years."

Once again, she took the steps one at a time and leaned on the wall for support.

He thought she had said all she had to say, but she began to speak again.

"By the time I was in high school all that was over. Although I-I never fully

recovered, the operations were finished and the crutches were gone. People started seeing

me as a person, not a cripple. My junior year, Troy Thomas, the hunk that every girl had

a crush on, asked me out." Her cheeks blushed a becoming pink and she laughed a little

as she reached the second landing.

"Margot was so angry! She told me she was sure there was something funny