Onyx existed in a constant state of guilt over what she considered to be stealing the best years of Noah’s life. What some would call robbing the cradle or being what was currently called a cougar.
It was the opposite of the norm, in which men had a tendency to date and marry younger women.
When Onyx brought up the topic, Noah pointed out how it was no longer a big deal for couples to have differences in their age. “Age is just a number,” Noah would say, having pointed out the age difference between Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher. “She’s like 15 years older than he is.”
First, Onyx had absolutely no idea who these people were since she never watched television. And the 15-year age difference paled in comparison to their ages since Onyx was 114 and Noah was still in his 30s.
The thing that made the age difference livable, no pun intended, was that ghosts appeared as the age they were on the day they died and returned as their perfect selves. No scars or blemishes or wrinkles. Even severed limbs reappeared.
She may have been 114 years old, but in terms of appearance, Onyx looked 39.
And as a ghost, she would be 39 forever.
Assuming she could get the energy.
Onyx watched as Noah took advantage of the last bit of daylight, shirt off—sweating and swearing when the rocks wouldn’t fit together—his skin glistening with sweat and red with color.
Onyx held up her hand and examined it. Unlike Noah’s, her skin was gray. Transparent.
When she held the hand up to her face, she could see right through it.
Unacceptable.
Tonight, she would go to the hospital and see if there was anyone whose time had come. If there wasn’t, she would go into town and look for an addict shooting up in a dark alley—the kind that could be found in all towns, even small ones like Crimson Cove.
She had no problem taking drug addicts. They were killing themselves, anyway. If they wanted to die, she was happy to help them along.
Those who were young and healthy? No. Onyx’s code would not allow it. They were off-limits.
And children? Never.
Onyx walked to the opposite side of the lighthouse and peered out toward the water, seeing thin red lines of red forming as the sun was being slowly swallowed by the ocean.
Soon it would be dark. It was time.
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