Hal clears his throat. “There is one other option…”
We all turn to him, wondering what his Intellect mind has come up with.
“Kylie, I think you’re forgetting something.” His one human eye is filled with tears, and he has a sad smile on his face. “We’re a team, the four of us. A single unit. A family. Right?”
I nod.
“Well, I think we should make this decision as a family. I mean, you’re clearly not going to give up the pod—even half broken you won’t let go—and clearly we’re not going to leave you to die alone.”
“Hal, no—”
He shuts me up with a finger to my lips. “Listen, please. I don’t have to ask to know that Sam and I are in agreement. But it’s the two of you who are being stubborn asses right now.” Vin opens his mouth to protest, but Hal’s faster. “None of us want any of the others to die, but there’s no way out of this without someone dying.” He sighs. “I think we’re best off making you comfortable here, getting us all warm, and waiting for the timer to go off.”
We’re all crying at this point, and even though I know they’ve made up their minds, I still have to try. “I can’t ask you guys to sit here with me for a few hours, waiting to die.”
“You’re not asking us,” Sam says. “We’re insisting.”
“And I’m insisting you guys get out of my way so I can unlock that damn box.”
My head whips around so fast I get dizzy, and in the center of my spinning world is Eli, standing a few feet away with Greta next to him. Greta’s holding one of our signal flares, and I wonder when the hell she stole it out of our bag.
“Eli! You came!”
“Of course I did,” he says as he lopes on over. “You used the old ‘wife guilt trip’ on me. Clare chewed my ass from here to hell and back after you called her.” He winks at me. “That was a damn dirty trick, Ky.”
Relief floods through me, and I wink back. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a witch; we’re devious like that.”
Eli kneels down with a hand extended. “Here. Give me the damn stasis pod so I can open the thing.”
After being its guardian and investing so much of my focus on keeping the pod safe, I’m almost reluctant to give it up, even if it does mean disarming the self-destruct mechanism that’s still ticking away.
He takes a small dropper out of his pocket a squeezes the bulb until a drop of fluid lands on the bio-lock. The box hisses and whirs, and the hinge pops. We all peer inside, and I burst into laughter.
“Oh, my God, Greta, I get it now!”
The men all turn to me with questioning looks. I’m gasping for breath; laughing with bruised or broken ribs is painful.
“What the fuck is so damn funny about it?”
I point at the tiny black kitten that’s yawning and stretching as it wakes from stasis. “Greta said—Ow, my ribs!—She said the thing in the pod was bad luck!”
Nine
“Lucky’s sure a squirmy little thing, isn’t he?” I say as I try to hold the kitten still enough for Hal to examine it.
“Do you even know if it’s a he?”
I shrug and stick my tongue out at Eli. “I don’t care. He’s a cutie, whichever he is.”
“Clare’s going to be so jealous. She loves animals, but she’s never seen one outside of a sanctuary.”
Vinnie’s sitting as far away from the kitten as he can without leaving the transport we’re on. I can’t believe big, brawny Vin is scared of a cat.
“What are we going to do with that thing?”
I hold Lucky out to him, but Vin shrinks back. Lucky swats at him, his tiny, needle-like claws extended, and misses by a mile. “Depends on what Hal finds out about him. Hal?”
“Well,” he says, looking back and forth between Lucky and the open, unlocked stasis pod, “it is indeed a he. And he’s both engineered and augmented. From the data stores on the pod, it looks like he’s got something called a ‘dimensional bridge generator,’ which I’m guessing is what’s attracting all the ghosts, and then something called a ‘probability disruptor.’ I guess that’s the ‘bad luck’ Greta was talking about.”
“Anything else?” I hold Lucky up and make kissy faces at him. I feel a strange hunger, which is weird because Eli fed us all fresh meal packs when we got to his transport. He also brought a medic with him, so I’m feeling much better. Achy and a little high on TransDerm patches, but better.
“Yeah.” Hal looks at me. “Lucky’s a Telepath.”
“Say what?”
He pulls up a holodisplay from the pod and points at one of the readouts. “Right here. They spliced Telepath DNA into him.”
Eli scowls. “They put human DNA into a cat?”
I pull up my UniWeb and run a quick search. “Eli, is there any synthetic formula on board? I think Lucky’s hungry.”
“How do you know that?”
Lucky mewls and purrs.
“Dude, we’re Telepaths. We’ve got a bond.”
“Hey! I’m part Telepath—What about our bond?”
“Eh. I’ve known you forever. Lucky’s new and exciting.”
Sam gets up and digs through the food trunk. “There’s some in here. I don’t know how good it is for cats, but since he’s part human maybe it’s okay?”
“Give it. Food is food. I just know he’s hungry.”
While I feed Lucky, Eli mulls over what to do with him.
“Well, we can’t keep him in the Dead City. Last thing we need is an army of ghosts showing up, or a run of bad luck right in the middle of combat.”
Hal scrolls through more of the stasis pod’s data. “I don’t think Lucky has any control over any of it. It looks like the augments are automated; they’re not connected to any neural pathways that I can see. It could be random, or it could be a more sophisticated programming that I just can’t hack yet. I haven’t found the code that tells me what triggers there might or might not be.”
“I think one of the triggers is the date.” Hal gives me a questioning look, so I explain. “Zeke, Greta, and Carol all say that part of the reason they’re drawn to Lucky right now is ‘the veil is thin.’ You know, All Hallows’ Eve? I think his dimensional bridge thingy is set for a certain timetable or certain metaphysical criteria. So I don’t think we have to worry about spirits except around Halloween.”
Vin shifts in his seat. He’s still eyeing Lucky like the little guy’s a demon. “We don’t have to worry about spirits at all. We can set the thing free and let it fend for itself.”
“Oh, hush, Vin. He’ll grow on you.”
Vin grumbles but doesn’t argue further.
Eli leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Are you offering to keep him, Ky? You guys have already experienced his bad luck firsthand; do you really want to carry him around with you?” He gestures at my splinted ankle. “You guys were all in tears over you being busted up from some of that bad luck.”
“That’s not fair! We didn’t know you were so close, or even for sure if you were on the way; we thought we were all gonna die when the self-destruct went off.”
Once finished with his formula, Lucky snuggles to my chest and purrs himself to sleep. I watch him in silence for a few minutes.
“Dad’s not going to let me come back to the Dead City as long as I have Lucky, will he?”
Eli shakes his head. “Probably not.”
I look to Vin, Hal, and Sam. “Well, guys?”
Sam shrugs. “You’re the Red Witch, right? Makes sense for you to have a familiar, and maybe when Lucky’s older we can use him to give the bad luck to the Gifteds. He could be good for striking a little fear into the Squads. They already freak the fuck out when they see you on the field; if they know you have their own weapon to use against them? Yeah. Could be a good thing.”
Hal nods. “I’m all for it. He’s taken to you already, and I can tell you love the little guy.”
I look to the last holdout: Vinnie. “Vin?”
The PermaLink tells me his answer before h
e can, and I melt.
…[For you? Anything.]…
The End
Enjoyed this story? Be sure to leave a review! You can order the first book in the Abnormalverse, Abnormal, and the sequel, Escaping the Light, will be up for preorder soon!
About the Authors
AJ Mullican is the author of self-published bestseller Whispers of Death, a psychosexual supernatural thriller, and Abnormal, the first in a series of sci-fi/dystopian novels, published by RhetAskew Publishing. The second in the series, Escaping the Light, is due out later this year--COVID-permitting, that is.
When not writing, AJ can be found fencing with live (though blunted) steel swords and participating in historical reenactment (pre-1600). Embroidery is her other passion (when she's not writing), and she is nearly entirely self-taught from Pinterest tutorials. She lives in southern Arizona with her husband and two cats, Rory and River. AJ also enjoys dabbling in cosplay and can often be found at signings or conventions dressed up to display her nerdery for all to see--when there's not a global pandemic to deal with.
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Read More of AJ’s Books
Whispers of Death
Hexes and Handcuffs: A Limited Edition Collection of Supernatural Prison Stories
Askew Ever After: A Contemporary Romance Collection
The Mage Asylum Trilogy: A Palmore’s Home for Wayward Mages Paranormal Romance Collection
Pact with the Pack: Bargains Struck Book 1
Elle Ryan is the dark romance pen name for Mandy Melanson. She wrote her first story at the age of 6. It was on construction paper, bound by rainbow colored yarn, and fully illustrated in crayon; but it was then that she realized her love for creating worlds. Today she gets to do what she loves by creating love and happiness out of thin air and blank pages. Escape reality today with Elle.
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Read More of Elle’s Books
Vertigo: Echo Romance Book 1
Reaper’s Last Homecoming
Bee Murray
About Reaper’s Last Homecoming
Kyrie Salvo just wants to get through her last year of university in peace. Fresh from a summer spent learning about her extended family in both Heaven and Hell, she’s looking forward to a semester spent crash studying for tests, planning her sorority’s fall formal, and getting over her most recent breakup.
When the family business lands on her doorstep in the form of a smoldering hot Hellhound and a sweetly dominant Angel, and a ghost searching for a second chance she knows this semester is going to be one for the memory books.
Faced with a job she didn’t ask for, a mission that feels impossible, and supernatural tutors who are too hot for their own good, Kyrie must learn to accept her heritage...and her scythe before it’s too late.
Reaper’s Last Homecoming is a paranormal #whychoose romance novella with steamy scenes, explicit language, and a hellishly happy ending. .
Prologue
Nothing good comes from doorbells that ring in the middle of Sunday afternoons.
Don’t argue. It’s a known fact.
Sundays are for napping. Recharging to get ready for the week. Errands, chores or time away from other humans. They are, in fact, a day of rest. In my case, they are a day to spend reading, unpacking, and hiding from humanity.
You want to know what is not restful?
Unexpected visitors.
Chapter 1
Ring ring. Ring Ring. Riiiiiiiing.
Whosoever is on the other side of the door is very exuberant with their ringing and I fantasize about slapping them silly as I hurry out of the bedroom towards the door. I can’t think of who would come around for a visit. No one even knows I’m here. The semester doesn’t start for two weeks and for the first time in my college career I’m living alone. Our sorority house was damaged in a freak flood over the summer and now we’re all in separate apartments spread out around the campus area.
Rounding the corner in a hurry, I feel my balance falter as my socks slip and slide on the hardwood floors. I skid to a hesitant stop, arms windmilling, directly in front of the door. With an exasperated sigh, I wrench it open and find myself face to face with the hottest man I have ever seen in my entire life. He’s dressed head to toe in purple and he’s holding a clipboard and I am suddenly at a loss for words. I just stare. There’s probably a little droplet of drool forming at the corner of my mouth. I can’t stop looking at him. His little purple uniform is bulging in all the right places, and he almost glows.
We stand there, awkwardly, until he clears his throat and I drag my eyes up to his face. Pushing my hair back behind my ears, I paste on a bright smile and push open the screen door. A flood of red heats my cheeks and I shift my weight back and forth in a weird little nervous march. Smooth, Kyrie. Real smooth.
“I have a package for Ms. Kyrie Salvo?” he finally asks, his silvery grey eyes twinkle at me and my heart does a little leap in my chest.
“Me! That’s me! I’ll take your package—I mean—my package—I mean…” My voice trails off in horror, and this time I bring my hands up to hide my face in embarrassment.
“Let’s try that again,” I say finally, peeking out from between my fingers, “My name is Kyrie. I can take delivery. Thank you.”
His shoulders are shaking with mirth and I pray that the ground just swallows me up. His little name tag says Jay. Jay rhymes with lay, which is…. NO! Bad Kyrie.
“Right,” he drawls out, holding out a clipboard and a pen towards me, “I just need you to sign here, there, and then initial on pages 2, 3, 6, and 9.”
I choke and my eyes drop to the bulge in those tight, tight purple shorts. I think my brain short circuits for a moment.. 69? What? Breathe. BREATHE.
He looks back at me expectantly and I swallow hard as I scrawl my signature in all the correct places. I try to remember what I ordered, but all I can think of is textbooks. It’s a little weird that I would have to sign so many times for textbooks, but whatever, I just need to go hide. Whatever ends this interaction fastest is fine by me.
He double-checks the paperwork and then produces a small padded envelope from his bag. “Here’s the key. I will go get the case and guardians. You are contractually obligated to care for both while they are in your custody. Please do not lose the key as it is impossible to replace.”
I stare at him blankly. I look back on the receipt that he gave me for some sign of what to expect, but a logo that proclaims “Helios Delivery Services” is all that I can see. My signature glows in gold script underneath it. Weirder and weirder.
Jay-the-delivery-guy trots back to the front door carrying a long, slender box and two men follow pulling suitcases follow behind him.
“Shall I help you get them set up or do you want to take it from here?” Jay asks helpfully once they arrive on my porch.
I crane my neck to get a look at the two men behind him. If Jay is the hottest man I have ever seen, these two are off the scales. My eyes almost pop out of my head.
“Ah, Kyrie, good to finally meet you,” the one on the right speaks. He’s dressed head to toe in white leather and his molten chocolate brown eyes make me melt a little inside. He has glorious brown curls that I want to run my hands through. “My name is Santos. I represent the interests of Heaven.”
I honestly don’t know what to say to that. Before I can stammer out something awkward, the other one speaks. This one is dressed in black leather and he couldn’t be more opposite of Santos if he tried. His hair is white-blonde and his eyes are an eerie pale green that exude power and dominance. Oh boy.
&n
bsp; “And I am Dmitri, representing down below. Show us to our living quarters please, it’s been a long journey.”
Dmitri’s voice makes me quiver inside. It’s like a glass of expensive whiskey, smooth and rich with an edge. But his command draws me up short.
“I beg your pardon? Living quarters? There must be some mistake.”
Santos and Dmitri turn to glare at Jay, who is busy playing on his phone. He looks up and then his eyes fly to me.
“Don’t blame me for this! She signed the paperwork and took delivery. I double-checked!” He fumbles with his clipboard again and shoves the signed paperwork in Santos’ face.
“So she did,” he murmurs, scanning the multi-page document before handing it over to Dmitri who seems to exude curious little wisps of smoke from his fingertips. Step away from the hot, crazy men, Kyrie. Step away.
Dmitri shoves the clipboard back at Jay, picks up his bag, and takes a step towards me. Instinctively, I step back and put my hand on the door, ready to slam it shut in his face if need be. Santos watches the unease play over my face and gives me a sympathetic smile.
“You do not understand who we are, do you?” He asks kindly.
I eye them both warily before turning back to him and shaking my head. “Nope. But I think you should leave. Have a nice day!”
Santos and Dmitri exchange a long look until finally Dmitri rolls his eyes and turns to me. He snaps his fingers and a blue flame appears on his palm. A small envelope rotates in the center of the flickering tendrils of blue fire.
Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection Page 175
