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  Only the Lost

  A Death Gate Grim Reapers Thriller Book Three

  Amanda M. Lee

  WinchesterShaw Publications

  Copyright © 2019 by Amanda M. Lee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  11. Eleven

  12. Twelve

  13. Thirteen

  14. Fourteen

  15. Fifteen

  16. Sixteen

  17. Seventeen

  18. Eighteen

  19. Nineteen

  20. Twenty

  21. Twenty-One

  22. Twenty-Two

  23. Twenty-Three

  24. Twenty-Four

  25. Twenty-Five

  26. Twenty-Six

  27. Twenty-Seven

  28. Twenty-Eight

  29. Twenty-Nine

  Mailing List

  About the Author

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  Prologue

  Sixty years ago

  Oliver Samuelson shuffled his feet and struggled to maintain his place in line.

  He wasn’t the patient sort. Nope. Not even a little. He’d been waiting his entire life to see what was on the other side of the doors they were approaching. He could almost taste it, smell it. Yes, he could almost feel it. He didn’t want to continue waiting.

  He had no choice. He could hardly toss the other recruits aside and barrel his way into the room. If he did that, they would be suspicious.

  He didn’t want them to be suspicious. That would ruin his entire plan.

  “This is exciting, huh?”

  Oliver slid his gaze to the man keeping pace with him. Doug Dunning. He remembered the name from orientation. Their qualifications were listed in the packets that went around. Doug was a college graduate who had lived in Michigan his entire life. That’s all Oliver remembered about him ... and he wasn’t impressed.

  “It’s work,” Oliver replied after a beat. He was determined to play it cool. If the others found out he was resolved to find placement in the gate room they might try to keep him from what he felt was his destiny. He had no intention of letting that happen. So, he had to be nonchalant. That was his only option.

  “It’s more than work,” Doug countered, refusing to back down. “This is ... well, this is so much more than work.” His dark eyes sparkled with interest as the line came to a halt. The man leading the tour was explaining something to those at the front of the line. Oliver had researched what they would find on the other side of the door for so long, so deeply, that he wasn’t worried about security protocol. He already knew exactly what to do. More importantly, he was familiar with what not to do.

  “I just think of it as work,” Oliver lied. His fingers twitched at his sides so he shoved his hands in the pockets of his blue trousers. Some of the others were dressed up for this excursion. Again, he didn’t want to appear too excited. He dressed in clean clothes, made sure he looked professional, but did not go all out. It was all part of his plan.

  “Then you’re stronger than me.” Doug was the enthusiastic sort and wasn’t afraid to show it. “All I’ve been able to think about since I heard I was moving past the third round of orientation was that I was finally going to see the gate. I mean ... we’re actually going to see it.”

  Oliver fought to control his temper. “That’s the rumor.”

  Doug ignored Oliver’s dry response. “The gate was the entire reason I agreed to go through the training. I mean ... on the other side of that door there’s a gate that allows you to travel between worlds. It’s not just planes of existence either. We’re talking the line between life and death. One side of it is in that room.”

  Oliver was well aware of what the gate signified. He, more than anybody, grasped its true ramifications. He was a vampire, after all. He’d managed to cheat human death a good ten times over and for a very long time. That was one of the reasons he wanted to visit the gate. He had questions about mortality.

  Most vampires hit this wall at some point. They eventually started questioning the meaning of it all. Why live forever if you didn’t have a purpose in life? Was it better to live fast and die young than linger without a purpose? Was any of it worth it or would he be better at the sharp end of a pointy stick and leaving this world behind? He was asking himself all those questions. He hoped the gate would provide answers.

  “I’m curious about it from a scientific standpoint,” Oliver said finally. It was obvious that Doug wasn’t going to stop talking, so there was no reason to be rude. “Energy and matter meld to make humans. Only energy passes over. At least that’s what they say, and I have no reason not to believe them. It’s an interesting phenomenon.”

  Doug stared at him for a full beat, unblinking, and then smirked. “I’m more interested in the philosophical implications. People always wonder what happens when you die. Aren’t you curious about that?”

  In truth, Oliver wasn’t much of a student of philosophy. He’d always been more interested in the science of an afterlife. “Not really. The gate is basically a conduit. Energy separates from the body on this side and then is passed through the opening. I’m wondering if it’s possible for that energy to become solid again on the other side.”

  Doug turned thoughtful. “You’re saying that you believe a second body awaits the soul on the other side. That’s interesting ... although it sounds impractical. Why would there be another physical body over there? The energy is what’s important. The soul doesn’t need a body to carry on.”

  “I know that, but ... if you can’t touch and interact with your environment what’s the point of living? Are you just supposed to float around and do nothing for thousands of years? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Your final resting place depends on your belief system,” Doug replied. To Oliver, he sounded as if he was reciting from a textbook. “Technically, what’s right on the other side of the gate is a waiting room. Everyone is sorted in the waiting room and then transported again.”

  Oliver’s interest was officially piqued. “How do you know that? About the waiting room, I mean. I don’t remember reading that in our orientation materials.”

  “They don’t tell us everything. I happened to run into a reaper at the main office — one of the reapers who is actually collecting souls on the streets — and he said that what’s on the other side of this gate isn’t the final resting place. There’s more.”

  “How would he know?” Oliver wasn’t trying to be difficult. No, really. He simply wanted answers to the questions that had been plaguing him. “As I understand it, reapers can’t cross over to the other side, check things out, and then come back again. We have no proof that anything we believe is true. We only have hypotheses. That’s what I find fascinating.”

  “Oh, well, I didn’t think about it that way.” Doug furrowed his brow. “Still, I would think someone had to voluntarily cross over at some point just as an experiment.”

  “It would have to be a suicidal individual because no one has crossed over and then come back,” Oliver pointed out pragmatically. “I’m sure you’re right. I’m sure someone did pass over. They never came back, though. Nobody has ever come back.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I ...
well ... .” In truth, Oliver couldn’t be absolutely positive. He had an opinion that he wanted to believe was fact, but he couldn’t prove it any more than the others could prove their wild hunches. “I think we would’ve heard if someone had crossed over and returned,” he said finally. “It would’ve been big news.”

  “Unless the reaper council wanted to keep it secret for some reason.”

  It was an offhand comment, but Oliver took it to heart. “You think they’re trying to hide the truth from us?”

  Doug immediately started shaking his head, fervent. “I didn’t say I believed that. Don’t tell them I believe anything of the sort. That will severely limit my prospects with the organization.”

  Oliver held up his hands in capitulation. He wasn’t nearly as worried as Doug about punishments the reaper council might dole out. Reapers had magic, so they were a threat, but it was limited. Oliver’s powers far outweighed those of a lone reaper. In truth, he figured he could fight three at once if he had to. He doubted it would become necessary, but he’d thought every aspect out when applying for this job. He wanted to leave nothing to chance.

  “I’m not going to say anything,” he promised, sincere. “We’re having a simple conversation. You don’t have to worry about me. I have no interest in limiting your prospects.”

  Doug bobbed his head, placated. “That’s good. Still, I know you were half joking when you asked the question, but I have researched the gate a great deal and I think you’re right. Someone had to cross over voluntarily.”

  “Do you think they were unable to come back?”

  “That’s one possibility, isn’t it?” Doug’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “Perhaps those who crossed over were unable to come back. Maybe the sentries that ride herd on the souls wouldn’t allow it. Maybe the souls separated from the bodies the second they crossed the threshold and there was physically no way to return.”

  In truth, Oliver had considered that possibility himself. He didn’t know how much stock he held in the notion, but he couldn’t rule it out. That’s why he was so interested in the science of the matter.

  The line started moving again, which meant they were finally going to see the big prize of the tour. The rest of the operation had been ho-hum. The gate was something else entirely.

  “There’s also one other possibility,” Doug added after a beat.

  “Oh, yeah?” Oliver was distracted now. He could practically feel his skin humming the closer he got to the gate room. Still, he didn’t want to be rude. He fancied himself a polite individual ... by choice. There was no need to be rude unless dealing with a boorish idiot. Doug might not have been the smartest man in the room, but he was neither boorish nor stupid. “What’s that?”

  “It’s always possible that once a soul reaches the other side it simply doesn’t want to return to this plane of existence.”

  Oliver was taken aback and inadvertently slowed his pace. “You think what’s over there is so great that the souls choose to stay behind. That’s ... interesting.”

  “But you don’t believe it.” Doug pursed his lips. “I’m not saying it’s fact. It’s just a premise.”

  “It’s an interesting one.” Oliver opted for the truth. “I don’t know what I believe. It’s possible we’ll never know.”

  “Not never. We all die at some point. We’ll find out the truth then. Sure, it might be a long wait, but we’ll eventually know. There’s comfort in that ... at least for me.”

  And there, Oliver realized, was the part he struggled with most. There wasn’t inevitability in his death. He could conceivably amble along forever. Even if he did die, chose to somehow end his life, there was no way of knowing if his soul would pass over.

  Some people believed vampires didn’t have souls. He knew otherwise. He felt things like normal humans. He loved. He grieved. He was even depressed occasionally. If he didn’t have a soul, those things shouldn’t be possible.

  Still, the humans persisted in spreading the lie that vampires didn’t have souls. As much as he considered himself worldly, a man who formed his own opinions, part of him wondered if they were right. That’s why he wanted to see the gate so very badly.

  “Yes,” he said as the door appeared in front of him. “We all die eventually.”

  The gate was resplendent in shimmery goodness when Oliver passed into the next room. He forgot all about Doug and focused on the portal, his eyes going wide as the surface glowed.

  The room was absolutely silent except for the scuffle of feet on the floor. Everyone in their orientation group — all twenty men (women weren’t yet allowed into the program despite persistent rumors) — were focused on the gate. No one said a word. They only stared.

  Then the tour guide started to speak. “This is what you’ve all been waiting for,” he said. “Does anyone have any questions?”

  No one so much as raised a hand. The gate was too magnificent to mar the moment with words. All the assembled individuals did was stare ... and stare some more.

  “That is amazing,” Doug said finally on a shaky breath. “I mean ... I’ve seen photos, but ... I didn’t realize it would be like this.”

  Oliver couldn’t help but agree. He opened his mouth to say just that, but a bright light at the corner of the gate caught his attention and he lost his train of thought. He focused on that spot, wondering if he’d somehow imagined it or if it was a trick of the room, and found a pinprick of light that was somehow brighter than the rest. After staring for a few moments, he glanced around at the other men to see if they noticed the phenomenon. He appeared to be the only one who could see the difference.

  To him, that didn’t bode well.

  As if on cue, perhaps to match the pulses of anxiety rolling through him, the gate surface began to ripple. First small waves, then bigger ones. Within seconds, the gate was making a strange crackling.

  “What is that?” one of the other orientation members asked, confused.

  The tour guide looked as concerned as the others felt. “I don’t know. Perhaps we should head upstairs and get a technician down here. If the gate is malfunctioning it needs to be repaired.”

  Even though Oliver wanted to stay where he was, study the gate for hours, he realized he was in a different position than the others. He was unlikely to die if something went wrong. Humans were more vulnerable, softer. They weren’t as durable as he. That meant they could easily fall if something actually did go wrong with the gate. “We should definitely go,” he agreed, reaching for Doug’s arm when the man shifted closer to the gate. “We can come back later.”

  Doug brushed off his new friend’s concern. “Just a second,” his eyes never moved from the gate surface. It was as if he was entranced. “I just want to see something.”

  Doug lifted his fingers and extended them toward the gate. He was still a good ten feet away, but he was moving almost before Oliver could register what he was doing.

  “What are you doing?” Oliver called out, alarmed. “You can’t go through the gate.”

  “I just want to see,” Doug repeated, his voice hollow. He didn’t resemble the person Oliver had been trapped in the hallway with. He was devoid of emotion, his face blank.

  “You can’t.” Oliver took a step in his direction, but the crackling the gate was emitting doubled in volume, causing the humans to clamp their hands over their ears and drop to their knees. Even Doug was down, his eyes going wide as he protectively shielded his hearing.

  Oliver was the only one in the room who could tolerate the sound. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but he was stronger than the others. That’s why he stood there like an idiot as the gate began to pulse. At first it was one pulse every three seconds. Then one pulse a second. Eventually, it was one nonstop pulse.

  Even as the light in the room exploded to a level that made Oliver want to cringe, he kept his eyes open. He was almost positive he saw shadows moving on the other side of the gate threshold. He was convinced if he continued to stare long enough that he would be able to
see something magnificent.

  He was wrong.

  At the exact moment one of the shadowy figures moved to the spot directly on the other side of the threshold, what looked to be a shimmering hand reaching for a different world, the sound increased tenfold. Even Oliver couldn’t tolerate it. His senses were overwhelmed as he reached out to catch himself.

  The last thing he remembered was a pair of cold blue eyes appearing from the glaring light. He couldn’t see a face. If there was one, he somehow forgot it instantly, but those eyes were seared in his brain forever.

  He hit the ground hard, the whole of his very long life passing in front of his eyes. Then everything went dark.

  He almost welcomed it.

  Almost.

  One

  Present Day

  “Give me a kiss.”

  Braden Grimlock was insistent as he ducked his head and moved his lips toward mine.

  I slid away from him thanks to the rollers on my desk chair and gave him a dirty look. I, Isabella “Izzy” Sage, am nothing if not professional.

  “I’m at work.”

  He looked amused rather than offended. “So am I. There’s no rule that says we can’t kiss on the job. I know because I pored through the rule book last night after you fell asleep ... at ten o’clock.”

  He had a charming smile, one that probably brought women from five different counties to their knees over the course of his thirty years, but I had no intention of falling for it today. “I went to sleep at ten o’clock because I was exhausted. Your niece kept me up the night before with all that screaming she does at bedtime.”