by Brux, Boone
How long was she going to stand there, fumbling and blocking my door? Eventually I’d have to leave. When I pressed my eye to the hole again, the woman looked up. For a split second her image wavered and then she chirped, “Beep, beep.”
Before the information registered and I could jump back, the blonde stumbled through the solid door—and passed through me. An icy chill sliced to my bones. Doubling over, I spun to face the ghost.
“What the hell?” I glared at her and slowly uncoiled my body. “This is my room.”
The blonde staggered, raising her translucent arms out to her sides. Her body swayed right and left until finding her balance. Then she straightened and slowly turned toward me, holding up her index finger. “I beg to differ with you, madam.” She pointed a garish neon pink fingernail at her chest, stumbled back a few steps, and then righted herself. “This has been my room since New Year’s Eve, 2000.”
“Really?” Another icy shudder rippled through me. “You’ve been haunting this room for over fifteen years?”
She wobbled, and glowered at me. “Haunting?”
Crap. I hated when ghosts didn’t know they were dead. Informing them that they’d passed on was like telling people their loved one had died. Only in this case the loved one was her. “Yeah, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but...” I took a deep breath and plunged forward. “You’re dead.”
She stared at me for a few seconds and then burst out laughing. “I know I’m dead, silly.” An instant later she sobered. “Wait. How can you see me?” She tilted her chin down and pinned me with a stare. “Are you dead, too?”
“No.” I rubbed my arms, trying to scrub away the lingering effects of getting body-slammed by a spirit. “I’m a grim reaper.”
“Cooool.” The word leaked out of her like air escaping a balloon.
“Yeah, cool, but we have a problem.” Not chancing more contact, I stepped into the bathroom doorway, dearly hoping she would leave. “I’m here for the next week. So, either you let me help you cross over, or you find somewhere else to hang for the next seven days.” I gave her a placating smile. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, waving her finger at me. “That’s not gonna happen.” After an ungraceful pivot, she made an unsteady beeline for the bed—my bed, and flopped down on it, patting the comforter. “But…” She closed her eyes. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.” Again, her eyelids popped open. “Do you snore?”
“Not that I know of.” I moved to the side of the bed, staring down at her. “Why are you drunk? Are you always wasted?” I’d never encountered an intoxicated spirit, and had assumed everybody converted to a non-inebriated state when they passed away. “Were you drunk when you died?”
“Gin and tonics, no, and yes.” Slowly, she rolled to her stomach and rested her head on her hands. “I’ve been at a party.”
“A ghost party?”
“I’m not sure.” She furrowed her brow. “I mean, there were ghosts, but also living people.” Her confusion melted and a dreamy smile spread across her face. “It was in this guy’s suite upstairs. He’s amazing.”
“Is he a ghost?” I’d never heard of the dead and living mingling at a party, but what did I know about the afterlife, except that there was one? “Cuz, maybe you could stay with him.”
Her eyes drifted shut again. “I don’t think Big C is dead.”
“Big C?”
“Yeah, the hottie who threw the party.”
I didn’t even want to know why they called him Big C. A quiet snore resonated from the spirit. “Hey.” I nudged the bed with my knee. “What’s your name?”
“Tandy,” she whispered before sinking back into a drunken snore.
“Great.” I glared at her for a few seconds and then whirled and stomped to the bathroom. Why had I actually entertained the notion that this week might be relaxing? Or at the very least, that I’d have my own room? “It frickin’ figures.”
I finger-combed my short, platinum hair and then spritzed it with hairspray. After that I flicked a coat of mascara along my lashes, then brushed my teeth. Standing back, I assessed my reflection. With only thirty minutes to primp, this was as good as it got. I retrieved my purse and room key, tossing Tandy a final glare. Hopefully she’d be gone by the time I got back.
No way was I sharing my room with a spectral party girl for seven days. If that meant hunting down Big C and pawning Tandy off on him, then that’s exactly what I’d do.
Chapter Two
Nate waited outside the third floor elevator. “You’ll need this.” He held out my conference badge. “How’s your room?”
“It’s fantastic.” I slipped the black lanyard over my head. “Except for the dead-drunk woman passed out on my bed.”
“Dead-drunk?” His brows pinched together. “As in really wasted, or as in dead and drunk?”
“Both.” I scanned the people milling about the outer lobby of the conference area. To my relief there were no ghosts loitering up here. “She’s very drunk and very dead.” My gaze refocused on him. “Her name is Tandy and she died on New Year’s Eve, 2000.”
“Y2K death. There were a lot of them. People thinking the world was coming to an end.” He smirked and shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m surprised your room is haunted.”
“I know, right?” I nodded, propping my fists on my hips. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to convince her to move on without force.” I lowered my arms. “She wasn’t very cooperative but if I explain to her the benefits she might agree.”
“You can be very convincing.” He placed his hand on the small of my back and started forward, guiding me through the crowd. “We can deal with her later. Right now we have a meeting.”
“What kind of meeting?” I jogged a couple of steps, trying to keep up with him. “I thought it was a simple GRS meet-and-greet.”
“That’s going on too, but we’re meeting with upper management.” Damn his long strides and my exhaustion—not a good combination. “There’s a matter they’d like to discuss with us.”
I pulled to a stop. Now I knew how my kids felt. “Am I in trouble?”
“No.” He slowed and faced me, cocking a brow. “Not yet anyway.”
Another thread of suspicion that this all-expense-paid-work-vacation had little to do with improving my customer service and reaping skills crept through me. He strode down the wide conference hall. I gritted my teeth and jogged to catch up with him again. After several turns, we stopped at a set of tall golden doors.
While I caught my breath, Nate rapped twice. A few seconds later, one of the doors opened and a tall redhead, decked out in a black leather skirt, a matching tank top, and black boots stood just inside the room. I didn’t think she was a Venetian employee, and the instant her emerald eyes leveled on me, all doubt about her paranormal status vanished. No way could this woman be human.
I’ve never had a girl crush before but if I did, it would be on her.
“Nate.” Her voice poured over me like melted chocolate. “Looking good—as usual.”
“Mara.” Nate leaned in and kissed her on each cheek. “I’d heard you would be here but didn’t believe Constantine.”
“In the flesh.” She arched a delicate brow. “Trust me, nobody is more surprised than I am.” She frowned. “Not that I had much choice.” Her gaze skated from Nate to me and she smiled again. “You must be Lisa.”
“Hi.” I accepted her outstretched hand. Warm tingles ran across my skin where we touched. Oh yeah, I’d switch teams for her. She smirked, as if reading my mind. A blush rushed over my cheeks and I released her hand. “Sorry if we’re late. I just got here.”
“Not late at all.” She closed the door and pointed toward a man with his back to us. “Tabris is still on the phone.”
Nate leaned toward me. “Tabris is the head of GRS.”
My eyes rounded. “Of all GRS? As in, the entire world?”
“Yep.” He grinned. “But don’t be nervous. He’s a nice guy.”
Tha
t was easy for him to say. No doubt I’d do something to embarrass myself before this meeting was over. I ran my palms down the front of my shirt, feeling completely underdressed in the elegant surroundings.
Heavy gold velvet draped the arching windows and a gilded desk stretched six feet across at the front of the room. Even though we were in the Venetian, I didn’t think the soaring pillars and giant stone lions flanking them were part of the hotels design. Potted orange trees and ferns littered the room, and several plush chairs and chaise lounges were strategically placed for conversation. The once standard conference room had been transformed into a scene out of the Palace of Versailles.
A man rose from a chair near the desk and walked toward us. Handsome didn’t describe him. He was a mix of Thor and the angel Gabriel, all rolled into one beautiful blond package. Tan and rugged with eyes that glimmered like glacier ice. They drew me in and I swore I could fall into them. Then he smiled and my knees nearly buckled. Dimples were my Kryptonite.
My jaw grew slack. I know this because Nate reached over and pushed my mouth closed.
“Nate and Lisa, this is my partner, Cam,” Mara said.
“Partner?” Nate’s brows shot up. “You working for GRS is a huge surprise, but partners? How did that happen?”
“Divine intervention.” Sarcasm dripped from Mara’s words.
“More like divine interference.” Cam held out his hand. “Nice to meet you both.”
“Hi.” I shoved my hand toward the blond god. “Lisa Carron. Really, really nice to meet you.”
Cam taking my hand and staring into my eyes was the closest I’d come to Heaven. The blue of his irises swirled, holding my gaze, and his deep voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket. “It’s really nice to meet you too, Lisa.”
I think I sighed—or squealed. I’m not sure. At first touch my lips went numb and my mind blanked out. It was awesome. Only Nate’s super-charged scowl made it possible for me to let go of Cam’s hand.
“Please, sit.” Mara gestured toward the chairs. “It looks like Tabris is done.”
“Whoa.” I inched toward the seat but couldn’t take my eyes off Tabris. “What is with you people?” The thoughts racing through my mind tumbled out of my mouth. I dropped onto the brocade chair. “All of you are crazy gorgeous.”
Nate rolled his eyes, his mouth pinching into a thin line. I ignored him. The man should be used to me Ms. Magooing my way through situations.
A white smile spread across Tabris’s face. He stopped a few feet from me and clasped his hands behind his back. In the same way Cam was all blond and golden, Tabris looked as if he’d been dipped in copper and bronze. “Thank you, Lisa.”
“You’re welcome, but seriously,” I said, my gaze cutting from the group back to Tabris. “You three aren’t human.” I hesitated. “Are you?”
“No.” Tabris sat opposite me and rested his arm across the back of the chair. He gave a quick shake of his head. Every glistening copper strand of his shaggy cut waved like wheat in the breeze and then settled perfectly in place. “Mara, Cam and I are something other.”
“Other?” His bronze skin seemed to glisten and I swore his amber gaze sparkled under the room’s golden light. “What does that mean?” I glanced to Mara. “Or is that a need-to-know thing?”
“Not really,” Mara said. “It’s just that very few people have the nerve to ask.”
I’d always had an inflated curiosity, so dangling the carrot of otherworld knowledge in front of me was like slapping my behind and shouting giddy-up. “Can I try to guess or would that be rude?”
“Please.” Tabris held his hands out toward me, obviously enjoying my curiosity. “Give it your best shot.”
“Oh, good.” Mara crossed her legs and rested her folded hands in her lap. “This should be interesting.”
I didn’t know if they’d actually tell me if I got it right, but I couldn’t pass up the chance. So far my repertoire of experiences with paranormal beings consisted of ghosts, porters, guardian angels, vampires, and a werewolf. These three didn’t seem to fall into any of those categories.
“Let’s see…great hair, eerily amazing eyes, skin I’d kill for, confident. Tabris, you’re the head of GRS, so you must have quite a bit of power and authority.” I reclined, assessing each one of them. “Mara and Cam, you possess the same qualities, and seem to have a close working relationship with Tabris.” After several seconds I said, “I’ve got to go with angels. But not guardian angels, something—” I searched for the right word. “Higher.”
Tilting his head toward me, Tabris smiled. “Two-thirds correct.”
“Which two?” I asked.
Cam held up his hand. “The Archangel of Tolerance.”
“And I am the angel of self-determination, willpower, and free choice,” Tabris said.
“Then…” I glanced at Mara. “You’re not an angel?”
“No, quite the opposite.” The corner of her mouth quirked upward. “Try again.”
What was the opposite of an angel? The word hovered on my tongue but I couldn’t reconcile this beautiful woman sitting amongst angels as a… “Demon?”
“Give this girl a prize,” Mara said.
“You’re a demon? But…” I pointed at the two men. “I thought angels and demons were enemies.”
“Sometimes, but not always,” Tabris said. “Like angels, there are different levels of demons with different purposes. We have a number of them working at GRS.”
I shook my head. “You’re joking.”
“No joke.” Cam rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “You can’t have the good without the bad.” He flicked his head toward Mara. “We work in the checks and balances department, keeping good and evil in balance.”
“I have a special skillset and knowledge base about the Underworld that comes in handy.” She smirked. “Not to mention my connections.”
“Seriously?” I couldn’t wrap my head around the concept, and to be honest, sitting so close to Mara now kind of made me nervous. “So, you’re a succubus?”
A bark of laughter burst from Cam, and Tabris discretely hid his smile behind his hand.
Heat flooded my face and I grimaced. “Oh crap, did I just say something stupid?”
“Carron, you asking Mara if she’s a succubus is like Mara asking you if you’re a hooker,” Nate said.
My hands flew to my mouth. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Perfect. It had taken me less than five minutes to insult someone who could probably possess my body and make me do horrible things, like scheduling a colonoscopy or volunteering to pick up dog poop in our local parks. “Really, Mara, I’m so sorry.”
“No worries.” She smiled but it was more wicked than understanding. “I’ve been called worse.”
“Boy has she ever,” Cam chimed in.
She turned her dark green gaze on him, and I’m almost certain tiny flames flickered in her eyes.
“I think I’d better stop playing twenty questions before I cause the Rapture.” If I could have crawled inside the chair I would have. Reclining against the seat cushion, I folded my arms across my body and looked at Tabris. “Anyhoo, carry on?”
“Very good.” He inhaled and pressed his lips together for a second before saying, “We have a bit of a situation that needs to be dealt with as quickly and quietly as possible.”
“What kind of situation?” Cam asked.
Tension rippled around the group, amping up my nerves. If these four seemed concerned about a situation then I definitely should be worried. Hell, I hadn’t figured out why I was there in the first place. All this seemed way above my pay grade.
“It’s Charon,” Tabris said.
The group instantly relaxed—except for me. I still had no idea what was going on. “Charon? As in the ferryman for the River Styx?”
“Yeah.” Cam eased against the arm of the chair. “Every few hundred years he ventures to the surface, parties, and heads back to Styx.”
Nate had told me this st
ory when he first tried to recruit me. What Cam had left out was that Charon usually knocked up a couple of women while on shore leave, thus ensuring the continuation of our reaper-line. Charon was to the grim reapers what Adam was to humanity.
“He announced his retirement before leaving.” Tabris stood and paced behind his chair. “Normally, we wouldn’t be concerned, but it’s been a month and he’s made no move to return.” He stopped and leveled a stare at the group. “Even though he hasn’t officially signed off on his retirement, souls are beginning to pile up on the riverbank.”
“What happens if he doesn’t return?” I asked.
“When there’s no more room on the shores, the spirits will start flowing onto the physical plane.” He clasped his hands behind his back again and his jaw tightened for a few seconds before relaxing. “If the souls aren’t transported within a certain amount of time they are rendered unclaimed.”
Rendered unclaimed conjured images of war orphans, obsolete androids, and the Island of Misfit Toys, none of which were happy. “I take it that’s bad?” I asked.
“Very. Being unclaimed means a soul is up for grabs,” Mara said. “By whoever can claim it first—angel or a demon.” The corner of her red lip curled downward. “Trust me. I’ve seen this first hand and it’s not pretty.”
A chill that had nothing to do with being cold wove its way up my spine.
“So—” Nate’s hands lifted in question, his eyes boring into Tabris. “What do you need from us?”
Tabris reclaimed his chair. “Convince Charon to return to work.”
“Convince him?” My eyes rounded at his request. “Why not just order him back to work?”
“I wish it was that easy.” Tabris tapped his index fingers together with a steady, slightly nervous, beat. “There are a lot of nuances in the afterlife, one of them being that even though GRS monitors and manages soul transportation on the River Styx, Charon is more like an independent contractor because of his deity status. We own the ferry but not the boat captain.”
“So get another boat captain,” I chimed in, thinking the answer was obvious.
