The Lost Souls

by K. D. Worth

  Because if Slade thought they all needed to be protected, then maybe there were more wraiths than he first thought. Maybe they were getting more restless. Maybe this nine-minute window garbage was just that.

  Garbage.

  These bracelets and the one-on-one training were all signs that things were becoming more dangerous for Kody.

  “Babe, are you angry at me?” Kody asked in my head, worry creasing his brow.

  “No,” I replied at once. But then I looked into those pleading blue eyes, and I couldn’t lie to him. “I’m annoyed, but not mad. This all scares me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kody said aloud. “You’re absolutely right. I should have told you right away.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” Heather said, rolling her eyes. She placed her sugary bacon in a pan she’d heated. It sizzled and immediately a sweet smoky scent filled the air.

  Kody placed a hand on my leg. “It was a big deal to you, and I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

  I smiled, so overwhelmed with Kody’s love and understanding that I couldn’t stay annoyed. “Thank you,” I mouthed back to him.

  Tristen joined us, ending the conversation about the bracelets. He was wearing one as well, and I tried not to frown. It irritated me that I let the whole bracelet thing irritate me, but worrying about Kody made me a little crazy sometimes.

  “Hey, what are you guys making? It smells amazing.” Tristen was kinda cute, even if his pretty brown eyes were hidden by long and shaggy brown hair. He had on a tank top showing off what were, I realized for the first time, some rather ripped arms. His denim overalls were undone on one side, and he’d tied a ratty black flannel shirt around his waist.

  “Cupcakes,” Kody answered.

  Tristen smiled at Heather. “Is that bacon I smell?”

  And then, as if I was back in time watching Meegan and Dan, Heather shrugged. “Oh yeah. It’s for the cupcakes. I think we need more flour,” she said to Kody, and then she flipped off the burner, spun on her heels, and hurried into the pantry.

  Kody and I shared a look. “What was that?” I asked.

  “She broke up with Tristen.”

  “Really?” I said, intrigued. “Why?”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  Tristen watched Heather disappear into the pantry with a sad-puppy look on his face. I actually felt bad for the guy, but I hoped they didn’t make it awkward around here. We had enough on our plate, and Slade wanted us working together. We didn’t need the team divided.

  “Do you have our assignment folder yet?” Kody asked me, obviously trying to change the subject.

  “Yeah, it’s in our bedroom.”

  Tristen pursed his lips and frowned at us. “You know it’s totally not fair that you guys get to share a room.”

  “Not fair?” I blustered feeling my temper flare back up—it hadn’t really gone away completely. It wasn’t fair to worry that my boyfriend was going to die every day. It wasn’t fair that undead creatures were searching for him. And it wasn’t fair that I lost my best friend before I could say goodbye.

  I opened my mouth to tell Tristen just that, but Kody placed a hand on my knee.

  Ever the peacekeeper, Kody chimed in, “I know you’re upset that Heather ended things, but you shouldn’t take your anger out on us, Tristen. We’re your friends.”

  Tristen studied his hands and actually looked like he contemplated Kody’s words.

  “Why don’t you try talking to her?” Kody suggested.

  I, on the other hand, was still annoyed. “Yeah, maybe she doesn’t even want you in her room.”

  Tristen’s scowl returned, and he walked off in a huff.

  “Max, that was mean,” Kody scolded.

  “Yeah, but it’s the truth.”

  “And sometimes it’s better to be good than it is to be right. And what you said was probably too close to home.”

  “Meaning?”

  Kody glanced over his shoulder to where Heather was killing time looking for flour she didn’t need for cupcakes that were already baked. “Tristen was pressuring her for sex, but she wants to wait for marriage. He said she was a prude, so she ended it.”

  “What a jerk.”

  “He’s heartbroken.”

  “Doesn’t mean he has to make rude comments about us,” I returned, feeling only slightly chastised.

  Kody conceded my point with a shrug, then went back to piping frosting onto his cupcakes.

  The melancholy strum of an unplugged electric guitar filled the common room, and I scowled. For crying out loud, Tristen became a reaper in the nineties. He should’ve grown up a little by now. I knew reapers were perpetually stuck in their death age, but brains and afterlife experiences should count for something. I mean, I wasn’t always going to be jealous about Kody, was I? I had to believe that I’d grow up by the time I was Tristen’s age.

  Maybe Tristen should’ve been more respectful of Heather. Then he wouldn’t be in this mess.

  I was so glad Kody and I were on the same page about sex. Well, at least we were becoming more comfortable talking about it. Since we’d been sharing a room, we hadn’t gone all the way—I still needed more time. Kody wasn’t exactly small, and I wasn’t exactly sure how to make it fit without it hurting too much. Thankfully, Kody had the patience of Job and a generous heart to go with it. We’d found plenty of other ways to have fun with hands, mouths, and rubbing. Though at first, neither of us had the energy to do more than sleep and cuddle after the whole debacle with Britany and Meegan. But over the last week, our curiosity and desire had returned to normal, and those hands and mouths were finding and giving pleasure whenever they could.

  I studied Kody as he hummed a show tune while perfecting his frosting swirls. Physically he was three years older than me—same as Tristen was two years older than Heather, respectively. Being older like Tristen, was Kody frustrated by my immaturity and fears about sex?

  Or worse, was I too boring for an older man?

  Worry swept through me, and I chewed my lower lip. I was seconds away from telling Kody we should talk, when Kody froze and his head shot up.

  But he did not look at me, rather, he glanced over at Kelli. He studied her for a moment and then pursed his lips in determination and set down the pastry bag. “Come here, big kitty kitty,” Kody said, picking up Herman.

  “It never ceases to amaze me how you can pick up that cat. It claws me every time,” I said.

  “He’s a he, not an it. And that’s because he knows you don’t like him,” Kody returned. He cradled the cat over his shoulder like a baby. Herman very contentedly kept his paws on Kody’s shoulder, watching me with those gray eyes as Kody walked over to Kelli.

  I flipped Herman the bird, and I would’ve sworn the cat shook its head at me.

  Kody readjusted the cat. “Herman’s lonely,” he told Kelli, then gently set him in her lap.

  Kelli was surprised but quickly took the cat, her face softening with a smile. “Thanks, Kody.”

  With a meow, Herman twirled around, finding a comfy spot on her lap, caressing her with the back of his head. Tristen looked on, his pouty scowl softening and hands stilling on his guitar strings.

  I shook my head in wonderment. That cat liked everybody but me. What was up with that?

  Kody joined me back in the kitchen, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself.

  “Why did you do that?” I whispered, dividing glances between Kody and the new pair.

  Kody’s blue eyes seemed to twinkle as he looked back at Kelli and Herman, then to me. “She’s been depressed all day, and I overheard her praying. Herman always makes me feel better, so I figured he’d help her out too.”

  I watched the sourpuss girl and the sourpuss cat, amazed at Kody’s empathy. It had shocked me when he told me that he knew when people were praying to God because he could feel it. I don’t know what it meant, but he had a different connection to the heavenly realm than we did. He could also hear his charges’ thoughts, much like t
he way Slade could hear ours. But one thing was certain: my boyfriend had the most open and loving heart.

  I shouldn’t worry if he was unhappy or disappointed in our nighttime private time. He sure hadn’t seemed disappointed when he hissed and came in my hand yesterday. I shuddered at the memory of his flushed cheeks, his brow glistening with sweat, and the tender, sleepy smile he’d given me afterward.

  No, Kody and I were good in that department. Maybe too good, if such a thing were possible. And Kody wasn’t Tristen. He would never pressure me or make me uncomfortable. In fact, he was always making sure how or where he touched me was okay.

  Feeling silly for worrying, I reached out and pinched him.

  “Ouch, what was that for?”

  I smiled, swinging my feet a little bit. “Because I love you.”

  Kody put a hand on his hip. “You pinched me because you love me?”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay, then,” he said, reaching out and pinching me right on the nipple.

  I jumped. “Ow,” I cried, rubbing myself.

  “Ow?” Kody questioned, giving me a sly smile before he returned to his pastry bag of pink frosting. “You know you like it.”

  My face flushed with embarrassment, and I looked around, wondering if anyone with super reaper hearing was paying attention and understood what Kody meant.

  Seeing my embarrassment, Kody chuckled to himself, because he knew darn well I did like it.

  KODY—Chapter 5

  I HELD out my hand and instantly another hand filled it.

  “You ready?” Max asked.

  Foolishly, I’d believed myself a failure at the start of my career as a reaper when Slade made us go on assignment together. Now I knew it was simply the way it was supposed to be.

  Max and I were a team, destined to do this together.

  Though scared to reap a child, at least I didn’t have to do it alone. And I was so grateful Max had not told me right away that our charge was only nine, otherwise I might’ve worked myself up.

  We rematerialized in a hallway in our reaper forms. Subdued mauve carpet, plants, and soft lighting gave the place a homey, comfortable feel. In fact, with the groupings of comfy furniture spattered here and there, each sharing a unique view of a lush garden, one might think we were in a hotel. But all the medical equipment and the sounds of monitors revealed what this really was.

  A place where people waited to die.

  I looked down at Max, and when I squeezed his hand, cyclical warmth moved back and forth between us. We were both nervous. I had never helped a child to heaven, and my stomach ached thinking about it. Max had told me it was one of the hardest jobs. Though he’d confided the night he saved my life had been even more difficult.

  Max’s smile didn’t reflect in his brown eyes. “This one’s going to be rough.”

  “I know.” My heart pounded.

  Being in a hospice facility, I held out hope the boy would be ready to go. Willing to go even.

  Heather liked to google and Facebook stalk her charges, but Max preferred not to know anything besides a name when we arrived. He was very tenderhearted, even more so after losing Meegan. But he hid his pain and sorrow behind a tough, cocky outer shell—and a healthy layer of sarcasm. Probably why Max never wanted to know much about his charges. That way he wouldn’t get attached. I was glad Max hadn’t done that with me.

  Our charge was Brady Williams, nine years old.

  He had suffered from a brain tumor, and not just any brain tumor. A vicious one that not even the Mayo Clinic or anyone else had been able to heal. In fact, this was the second time it had regrown, and it had come back with a vengeance. There had been all kinds of prayer vigils hosted at their church and local fund-raisers for the family. When we took Brady today, he would be deeply missed by an entire community. Knowing all this, I worried that even if I heeded Slade’s advice to concentrate on love, his spirit might resist and drain me too much, despite having Max at my side.

  With his hand holding mine, Max twisted our wrists to look at the watch he now wore. “Six and a half minutes left.”

  I nodded at his report. The nine-minute window definitely explained how Heather and I had avoided shades during our cases, but Max wanted to be done in seven minutes. I was leaning more toward five.

  Max led us toward an open door where the hush of murmured voices talked on the other side of the threshold. I squeezed his hand as we stepped into the room. This was only my second time seeing a person in hospice. Yet it was so very different than my first charge, Louie. Not only had Louie led a full, long life, I had been different too. Back then I thought I’d spend eternity with my boyfriend helping people get to heaven, and it would be all sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows.

  Reality had proven much darker.

  Everyone in the room smiled, but their smiles were forced through tears hastily wiped away. The children were more somber than the grown-ups. I suspected the adults were better actors, trying to keep a brave face for the dying boy.

  When I first entered the room, I sensed hope, but then a strong swell of grief quickly overshadowed it, like a powerful aroma, thick and real. Then the overwhelming fear hit me like a sucker punch.

  I gasped.

  “You okay, Kods?”

  Nodding, I took a deep breath. Yes, I was okay, but these people were not.

  Half of this room did not know where Brady was going, and they were terrified. Though I felt some hopeful prayers too, like waves of light funneling through darkness, the fear and frustration, the anger, were far more palpable. My pulse quickened.

  I’d heard once waiting was the hardest part. Sounded pretty accurate at the time, but the older I got, the more I realized waiting wasn’t the hardest part of life.

  Not knowing?

  Now that was pretty darn hard.

  And just then, I did not know what would happen to me if I delivered the Touch. I felt strong, but a child clinging to this world might drain me horribly. The rising fear and anger of the mourners made it very difficult for me to think straight. I could already feel my emotions getting the best of me as the energy in the room escalated.

  As one, Max and I looked at the boy lying in the bed. He was bald, pale, and so very, very small. The sight of him deeply unsettled me, and my eyes began to sting, vision blurring.

  When I’d been alive, I had wanted to end my life, yet before me lay a child who would never get to have one. A boy who’d never had a life outside of hospitals and treatment facilities. St. Jude commercials used to distress me, but it was so much worse seeing a child die in person… and knowing I was the one who was supposed to end his earthly life.

  “Will you do it, Max?” I asked impulsively.

  “Slade said you needed to do it.”

  “Yeah, well,” I hedged, wiping my wet cheeks. “Does it really matter?”

  “No, I guess not.” He tugged lightly on my hand, offering me a faint smile. “We’re not allowed to cry, babe.”

  I sniffed and brushed at my eyes again. “Why not?”

  He cocked his head to the side, studying me. “I don’t know. We’re just not.”

  “You never said that.” I didn’t know why I was arguing, but it didn’t seem right to ignore my own pain at the unfair situation.

  “I’m saying it now,” he said with a pleading expression. “C’mon, Kody, if you cry, then I’ll cry, and it won’t be very professional when the boy’s spirit shows up.”

  I wiped away another tear and gave a bitter laugh. “Professional, eh?”

  He scowled. “Yeah, that’s what we are. Professionals.”

  “It wasn’t very professional for you to save me on that bridge and cry about your parents either, but that seemed to work out just fine.”

  He made a humph sound of agreement. “Yeah, I suppose it did.” Then he released my hand and approached the bed.

  The instant Max rested his hand on the dying boy, the opal ring on my right hand warmed and a sharp surge of energy ripped from my bo
dy.

  My knees wavered, and I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t been concentrating on my agape and Brady’s spirit took a lot, just as I’d feared. More tears fell, and I wiped them away with a shaky hand.

  I’d thought I was getting better at this!

  When Max returned to my side, I snatched up his hand and immediately began to siphon his power. He gasped softly at my urgency but did not resist. Rather, he placed his other hand on my chest, giving freely. Within a few breaths, I felt a little stronger, despite the disconcerting setting and the overwhelming rush of human emotions swirling in the air.

  “Gonna be all right, babe?” Concern knitted his brow as I took more of his energy. His palm on my chest glowed faintly as I tried to replace what the Touch had taken.

  I inhaled deeply. “I’ll be fine.”

  Max made a face, as if he didn’t believe me.

  Trying to be strong, I brushed away my last tear. Reapers were supposed to be impartial, yet I also needed to show love and kindness for my fellow man, empathy. I knew in my heart God would give Brady a wonderful new life.

  I focused on that and slowly the impact of the mourners’ fear and agony lessened. It became easier to breathe. I felt more like myself.

  Max’s healing light was truly miraculous, a gift from God.

  “Who are you?” a faint voice asked.

  My heart skipped as it did every time a spirit first saw us.

  Max’s hand slipped from my chest, and hand in hand we turned. Our little patient stood in the doorway.

  I’m quite tall—six-four the last time I checked—and I towered over the small boy. I gave him a gentle smile and released Max’s hand to kneel down eye level with him. “My name is Kody.” I flipped a thumb behind me. “And this is my friend Max.”

  “What’s up, dude?” Max said, holding out his hand for a fist bump.

  Without batting an eye, Brady fist-bumped Max. “Am I going to heaven with you?”

  I shot a surprised look at Max. “That was easier than I thought. He already knows he’s dead and going to heaven.”