Reaper Reborn

by Kel Carpenter

  “Maybe not, but with time, hopefully they’ll understand.”

  Thoughts of Graves’ smoldering eyes, and my brother growing old, and Esme finding some new hobby to keep her young filled my mind, but I forced them away.

  This wasn’t the end. I had to believe that.

  But either way, Thana was trapped and was no longer a threat. That was all that mattered.

  “Well, well, well . . . isn’t this an unexpected twist,” a familiar voice said behind me.

  22

  Knock-Knock-Knockin’ on Death’s Door

  My chest eased. Some of the inner panic draining away.

  Death had come.

  Finally.

  “Where are your other bodies?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

  Gretel stood in her lacy black dress, looking over the ruined remains of my living room.

  Fucking grenade. I was still pissed about that one. If I was stuck here forever, I didn’t even have a clean prison.

  “They’re about,” Gretel answered vaguely. “Can’t have all of me in one place for the wonder twins, can I?”

  I chuckled. “You figured out what she wanted to do this time?”

  Gretel surveyed Thana, who glared back. “It wasn’t exactly a hard guess. In every life, she—or both of you—got rid of me. I wasn’t taking any chances this time.”

  “What’s she talking about, Salem?” Thana asked. For once she wasn’t in the loop.

  I was more than a little gleeful about that given how many times she referred to me as the ‘stupid’ twin.

  “Meet Death,” I said in response. “Or at least one of them.”

  Confusion clouded her gray eyes for a moment. I found it fascinating to watch. That’s what I must have looked like ever since she came to town. Now the tables were turned.

  She’d underestimated how far I would go in this life to save those I loved.

  “You’re Death?” Thana said incredulously. “But I killed Gretel a good two hundred years ago.”

  “Thana, Thana,” Gretel shook her head. “You always overestimate yourself. I am Death, dear girl. I was never actually living. You ripped me apart and stuffed my soul inside living vessels to keep me from coming back—the same as you did with Salem. The difference is, where Salem’s soul healed, and she was reborn—I was merely released every time one of those vessels died. After being ripped apart a few dozen times, though, I had this great idea. Really, I should have thought of it from the beginning. Perhaps you get that from me. We gods do tend to overestimate ourselves.” Gretel smiled, and it reminded me a little too much of Thana.

  “Get to the point,” I groaned.

  Gretel’s eyes flashed, that ancient essence peering out at me.

  “You’re really no fun,” she said, sounding like the twelve-year-old she appeared to be.

  “She’s really not,” Thana muttered.

  “Anyways,” I said, interrupting them both. Since when was this a hate-on-Salem session? “Get to the point where you decided to not come back as a person but to exist as ghosts, pretending to be controlled by Death.”

  “Damnit, Salem,” Gretel cursed. “You really know how to kill a punchline. I’m not fucking James. I’ve been at this for four centuries with you two and you couldn’t let me have five minutes—”

  “Provided that both of you and your stupid fucking games are why I’m trapped in here for eternity with her—no. I don’t care. You died a few dozen times. So did I. Boo-hoo. You’ve hunted her this whole time because she’s a fucking psycho, and she’s hunted you in return. The only one that’s even kind of blameless is me—”

  Both Gretel and Thana went off.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Thana demanded.

  “You created her,” Gretel said, motioning to my doppelgänger.

  “Yeah, like four hundred years ago. The fact that you wanted her dead because I created her wasn’t cool. You could have just gotten the fuck over it,” I said, giving her the don’t-fuck-with-me face. Seeing as how Death was ancient, they didn’t seem to care.

  “In creating her, you threw off the balance. The other gods were getting twitchy. They thought if one of my children could create other gods like this, what was to stop us, AKA you brats”—that was rich coming from a preteen’s mouth—“and me, from having an army. There are consequences to everything, Salem, even for an immortal.”

  “Yeah, well, the last four hundred years have been us playing this game. You wanted her dead. It’s not going to happen, and you know that. There’s no way to truly kill her. The most we could do is reset her, and I’m not creating a whole new batch of reapers just to see if Thana two-point-oh is less fucked up.”

  “Hey!” Thana snapped.

  “Oh, give me a break. You sat there calling me the stupid twin for like ten minutes when you thought I’d never figure it out. Death has been hanging around me ever since my first death. They clearly don’t want me dead or I would be, which means someone else reset me. You’re the only other being who could do that. The fact that you confirmed it without feeling even a hint of remorse—”

  “Who wants their five minutes to get it out now,” Gretel complained.

  I turned my unamused face on her, crossing both my arms over my chest.

  “You’re right. We’re all a little pissy about how things have gone. Killing her isn’t an option, though, and resetting her isn’t something I’m down for since it could lead us right back to this spot. You planned this whole thing. You watched me for months as I struggled to come into my powers. I have to think you’re here for a reason and that there’s a way to end this so we can all move the fuck on, and I don’t have to trap us both for eternity.”

  Gretel watched me for a moment. Her red lips pursed together as she seemed to weigh me with her eyes.

  “You’re right. There is another solution . . .one that will fulfill the needs of all . . .parties involved.”

  “And you’re just bringing this up now? How convenient,” I said dryly, although I felt a little flutter of excitement at her words. This was exactly what I’d been hoping for. What were the odds this was all going to work out?

  Slim was the answer. Especially considering my batting average, but hey . . . fingers crossed.

  “I can still change my mind,” she said, the threat heavy in her voice.

  “I’m all ears, Not-Morticia,” I said, barely suppressing my smile at her slight eye twitch. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to annoy Death, but I couldn’t help myself. After all they and Thana had put me through, every little win counted.

  “Does anyone care what I think?” Thana asked.

  “Nope,” I answered without sparing her a glance.

  Gretel smirked at my immediate response. “What would you say if I told you I could ensure Thana never set foot in your realm again?”

  I raised a brow. “Maybe it wasn’t clear, but the whole goal of this was not to kill her—or reset her since killing is all relative now.”

  “Who said anything about killing her?”

  I stared at Gretel for a beat, trying to sense any hint of deception, but there was none. “Alright, in that case, I’d say what the fuck are you waiting for?”

  Gretel nodded, as if that’s what she’d been expecting. “There’s another realm, one that you both have access to—although not without being escorted by me.”

  “Another realm?”

  “Clearly, you know that there are multiple realms that exist alongside each other. You’ve been passing through the living realm and the in-between for weeks now.”

  “Well, yeah. Obviously. It was more a question about what realm you were referring to. So far the only other one I know about is the afterlife.”

  “Ah, yes. My realm,” Gretel said and smiled. “But no, that’s not where I’d take her. I’m speaking of the god realm. There, Thana would be brought before the Sentinel, and it would be up to them to decide what becomes of her.”

  Thana was suspiciously silent during Death’s e
xplanation. I stole a glance at her, but her expression was blank.

  I didn’t buy it. This was her future we were discussing. She was hanging on every word. I’d stake my life on it.

  “The Sentinel?” I asked.

  “It’s like your Council, but comprised of the original gods.”

  I pressed my lips together. This was sounding too good to be true. “And I have your word she will not be reset?”

  Call it weakness. Call it strength. I didn’t want Thana reset for two reasons. The first was that to do so, you had to stuff her in living creatures, therefore making them reapers. It was the actual way reapers were created originally. She realized my soul would heal itself, but it’s hard to heal as me when I’m in tiny little pieces and grafted onto other souls.

  A whole new batch of reapers was not the solution. Given what they could do, that kind of power shouldn’t just be handed out to whoever.

  The second reason was that resetting Thana wasn’t guaranteed to fix her. She said that every life I came back, I still chose humans and Death. What if every life she was still a fucking psycho? James wasn’t even a god and he killed so many people and ruined so many lives. Thana could do so much worse. No. I’d rather her be forced to work through her shit.

  Become someone else. Someone better.

  So yeah, resetting her was not in the cards if I had my way.

  “You have my word. Is this satisfactory to you, Daughter?”

  There was something really creepy about a twelve-year-old dead girl calling me daughter.

  I was about to nod when another question occurred to me. “Why now?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, cocking her head.

  “If this was a solution, why did you wait until now? This lifetime? If you could have done this centuries ago, why wait so long?”

  “Ah, well, that’s simple, really. I was waiting for you. Yes, I had a couple hundred years where I was split, and I couldn’t do this without both of you together—but the reason we’ve been at this for so long is largely because I needed you.”

  “Me?”

  “Haven’t you realized it yet, Salem? This has been a test. All of it. I needed to be sure you were still worthy of the job you were created for.”

  That did not go over well.

  I mean, I knew she’d been playing with me, but the thought that it was all some kind of science experiment had never crossed my mind.

  I clenched my jaw, anger swelling. “You were fucking testing me?”

  Gretel sighed. “Thana is clearly not suitable to be Death’s Overseer on this—or any—realm. She abhors those she is supposed to watch over. You, however, were made for this purpose. I needed to ensure that had not been lost. I am pleased to find that it hasn’t. The way that you place the lives of those you were designed to protect and serve above your own proves that you are still capable of carrying out your sacred duties.”

  She was using a lot of overinflated words that sounded a bit like static to me, but I got the gist of it. She’d been interviewing me for the job, and I’d passed.

  “Well, your methods are crap, but I can’t disagree with your assessment.”

  Gretel smiled. “Glad we have that all cleared up.”

  “So if you take her to this ‘realm of the gods,’ they’ll decide what to do about her, but she won’t come back here, ever?” I asked, wanting to make a hundred percent sure.

  “She won’t be able to. Only true gods can pass in and out of that realm. You both come from Death, and so my realm and that of the spirit world are open to you. But neither of you are true gods. You were still born of flesh—the hope there being that you would feel as humans feel, and therefore be able to do what you were meant to do.”

  “If taking her away is punishment for what she’s done, why are you not punishing me?” I asked.

  Gretel smiled. “By your account, I already have. Four hundred years and forty-something resets, you have finally figured it out. In letting you be reborn thinking you are human, you grew to love these humans, and in this life, the loss you’ve suffered made you strong enough for the trials I gave you.”

  “But why? Why go to all that trouble and not simply create another Daughter to do this?” I waved to the house around me.

  “Because, you are my daughter. Every now and then one of you acts out, but you don’t simply end your children when they disobey. You teach them lessons. Help them learn from their mistakes.”

  There was something in her eyes, beyond the ancient, immortal gaze. Something not quite soft, but fond, nonetheless. Maybe true gods couldn’t feel as humans can, or so she claimed, but I had to think they felt something.

  “Besides,” she continued. “The gods don’t like it when I create new offspring. There’s a system. Part of why this whole thing started to begin with.” She gave me a meaningful look.

  “You know, you may have created me, but I don’t remember it, and after everything you’ve put me through, I don’t like you very much.”

  Gretel didn’t seem all that bothered by it. She simply shrugged and said, “If your kids don’t tell you they hate you at some point, you probably haven’t done your job very well. Though you think like a human, you are very much immortal. You’ll get over it.”

  Ugh. Fucking parents. I forgot what that was like, though I really didn’t see Gretel as a parent, nor Aurora or Rumpy for that matter.

  She turned toward Thana. “Ready to go, cupcake?”

  “Wait—” I said, stumbling forward.

  “You know, for someone that complains about wanting me gone, you sure are dragging this out,” Gretel griped.

  “Thana said we can’t go to the afterworld. That we’re not welcome. Is that true?” I asked.

  Gretel waved a hand. “You can, but I don’t like you guys sticking around for too long. You have a job to do here, and time passes differently in my realm. You could spend a week there, and here it’s been a year—or longer. Too much time there and your duties here are neglected. Speaking of, I’ll be sending one of my assistants over from the afterworld to retrain you. Endeavor to not be reset again, if you can manage it. Retraining you takes forever, and my assistants hate being in this realm.”

  Well. That was better and worse than expected. Gretel started to walk away again, and I grabbed her arm.

  “Will I see my dad again? My mom?”

  “Salem,” Gretel said, my name coming out like a sigh. “We’ll set up a vacation for you—eventually. I’ve got other kids to deal with. It’s been four hundred years, and while I can exist in multiple forms—frankly, it’s fucking weird.”

  Out of nowhere, Rumpy, Aurora, and another twenty ghosts all popped up.

  They were Death. All of them.

  Gretel cast a sideways look at Thana. “Don’t even get any ideas right now. Salem is finally where I need her to be, which means I can handle you.”

  Thana pressed her lips together. I couldn’t read her expression easily, even though it was my own.

  “Alright,” Gretel called out. “Time to go.” Aurora came to stand on one side of Thana and grabbed her upper arm. Rumpy went to stand on the other, doing the same.

  “One more thing,” I said.

  “For fuck’s sake—” Gretel started. Man, her accent fluctuated a lot. Gotta say, I preferred her being a creepy ghost to the reality, but I’d take what I could get.

  I went to stand in front of my other half. Thana was avoiding my gaze, but that was alright. She didn’t need to look at me for what I had to say.

  “I hope that you find what you’re looking for.”

  Her eyes snapped up to mine. “I don’t need your fucking pity—”

  “This isn’t pity,” I bit back. “After what you’ve done, you don’t deserve pity. But you are me. Which means even though you’re a shitty fucking person and you ruined any chance of a life where we were sisters—I do hope that in the end, you find your person. Whoever that will be. Find them and don’t let your insecurities come between you.
Don’t push them away.”

  With that, I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. It was cold to the touch.

  Shock permeated her features.

  “It’s time,” Gretel said. “Release the trap, Salem.”

  I gave them a bittersweet smile. Only hours ago I was wagering whether I would get an eternity of imprisonment or not. Now, I had forever before me. But that didn’t mean I was free.

  Picking up the second cupcake on the table, I took a bite and walked right out where my front door should have been.

  The barrier popped like a bubble. I sensed it, the moment they were gone.

  An odd sort of peace filled me after all that had happened.

  I stood on my lawn, eating my cupcake as the sun set.

  A ghost of a touch made me shiver.

  “You did it,” Graves said. I looked down to see his fingers in their spirit form twined with mine.

  “No,” I said. “We did it. All of us.”

  23

  Shit Meet Fan

  Still holding onto Graves’ hand, I gave a little tug and pulled him back into being. He glanced down.

  “Never going to get used to that.”

  I gave him a tired smile. “I have to admit, it has its perks, though.”

  “Very true,” he agreed, lifting a hand to brush some hair off my face. “So what’s next?”

  “Sleep. For like seven years. I’m—” But my words were cut off as the sound of angry voices reached me.

  I narrowed my eyes and glanced down the driveway, seeing the crowd surging our way like some kind of human tidal wave.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I groaned.

  “At least they don’t have pitchforks,” Graves said.

  “Not helping,” I muttered, feeling like I was in no shape to face off against the entire supernatural community. Can’t a girl get a break for two goddamn seconds?

  “There she is!” a woman screamed, pointing at me.

  The mob started racing faster.

  Esme and Shepard raced around the corner of the mansion, coming from the direction of the pool house where they’d been hiding.