by Casey Lane
Lisa glances into my eyes, uncertainty showing in the dazzling blue depths. “Normally I can’t discuss that.” She hesitates, but apparently sees something in me that encourages her to go on. “I guess I was born with the trait. Another reaper died, my husband as a matter of fact, and I kind of fell into the job. It certainly wasn’t my choice. Then I found out I’d be reaping stupid people. So really not my choice.”
I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “Fascinating. And what does ‘reaping’ entail?”
“Well, it depends on the soul. People who die in violent ways are more resistant than happy souls. Sometimes I have to chase them down. Sometimes they go to the afterlife willingly.”
“So there is an afterlife? I’ve always wondered.”
“Er… um… yeah. There is. But I really don’t know much about it. I make a point of not getting too close to my porter. He has a tendency to take anybody who gets within reach on a joyride to Hell.” She nervously looks around the lobby. “Why is it so dark in here? And you didn’t cover who actually did the killing of those ghosts I spotted.”
I stand and motion to the front desk. “Why don’t we get you checked into a room? Neither of those questions has a quick answer.”
Lisa follows me and listens quietly to Tommy’s directions on where her room is and on some of the inn’s facilities. Thankfully he catches himself and doesn’t mention the protocols on blood donors and the sex-toy basket our paying guests normally receive.
Jon had carried in Lisa’s bag, so once she’s handed her room key card I grab the luggage and lead the way upstairs.
“Wow,” Lisa says, eyeing the floor to ceiling book cases encircling the landings that overlook the lobby. “Someone sure likes to read.”
“The owners collect first edition books. Sure fills up the time during the long Alaskan winter.”
A tense laugh escapes her. “I prefer indoor target shooting with a .22 pistol. Especially under the influence of alcohol—it’s good for a laugh.”
Her words sink in and I glance over my shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
We arrive at the top and she shrugs. “Only if you’re stupid.”
I escort her to the largest suite on the second floor, room three. The inn is dead this week—no pun intended. Our busy time is winter and after the botched first attempt of a werewolf hunt earlier this summer we’ve reverted to the normal off-season skeleton staff of thirty. Less people around should make it easy for Lisa to do her ghost-hunting task.
I stand to the side, allowing her to open the door with her card. A low whistle issues from her pink lips. Such soft-looking pink lips.
Don’t go there, man. You know it will only end badly.
“This place is really high end.” She steps in and gazes around at the dark wood and heavy fabrics done in shades of gold. Her attention is drawn to the windows. “Why are there metal shutters?”
“Do you understand what this place is?”
“It’s an elaborate—and remote—resort for the wealthy, right? There’s a bunch of places like this scattered all over the state.”
“Um… Well, not exactly. We cater to a very specific clientele.”
A smile lights up her face, transforming her from attractive to down-right hot. “OooOoo… that sounds mysterious. Do you need the shutters to make sure they don’t escape?” That cute snort is back. “You know those things are a fire hazard?”
Momentarily taken off guard by the impulse to kiss her, I stutter my response. “Er…uh…” I point inanely to the ceiling. “There’s a sprinkler system and shit.”
“‘And shit?’ How old are you? Twenty?”
I stand straighter and try to look menacing. “Almost twenty-seven.” I wisely don’t add that I look younger due to my condition. “Served five terms in Iraq and Afghanistan.”
“I can tell.” She smiles again, this one softer with a hint of kindness I haven’t seen in years. “You’ve got ‘bad-ass’ written all over you.” Lisa tilts her head toward the windows. “Still doesn’t explain the severe storm-ready decor. Especially when it’s gorgeous outside.” She moves toward the shutters and pulls back a drape. “Can I open them?”
Reacting on instinct, I dart forward to grab her wrist as she reaches for the control knob. “No! I can’t be in the sun.”
She looks down at my wrist, a pointed look on her face. “You’re quick. But do you mind? I didn’t invite the touching.”
I drop her hand as if scalded. A muttered “sorry” escapes me before I retreat to the door. What the hell was I thinking? She must think I’m a total nut job.
Rubbing a hand over my shaved head, I’m unsure of what to do or say. I’ve got to tell her what I am so she understands about the sun. She’s a supernatural, too. She must know about all this stuff already, right? “Look… I’m like you. Different than normal humans.”
“Whoa!” Her attention is drawn to an empty corner. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you there.”
“Are you talking to me?” I ask.
Lisa waves a hand at me to be quiet. Frustration bubbles inside as I watch.
“Was this your room?” She’s silent for a few seconds. “Well, you know you’re dead, right?”
“Or undead.” I interject. “Depends on how you look at it.”
“What?” Lisa turns back to me. “Did you just say ‘undead’?” Her head whips back to the corner. “Excuse me?”
“You see, I’m a vam—”
“You’re joking. They’re real?” Lisa says in the direction of the armchair. “And what about you?” She gasps. “Oh, no. He did not!”
“Lisa,” I call her name, hoping to get her attention. Turning her head, she looks at me, wariness in her beautiful blue eyes.
She opens her mouth to speak exactly as I do. “Do you know someone named Joanna?”
“I’m a vampire.”
Chapter Three
Lisa
I wasn’t sure I heard what I think I heard. My gaze bounces between the female ghost named Joanna and Asa. “Did you just say ‘vampire’?”
They both nod.
“Yeah,” Asa says. “I thought you knew.”
The ghost continues her rant, drawing my attention again. “We were one big happy family.” She paces along the wall. “Vivian’s puppets.”
I don’t know who Vivian is and at the moment it doesn’t seem important. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole vampire thing. “Let me get this straight, you both are vampires?”
Asa answers. “Yes, but you don’t have to be afraid of me.”
“Like—” I look at him. “Dracula vampire? As in drink blood, turn into bats, sleep in coffins type of vampires?”
His brow furrows. “I don’t turn into a bat or sleep in a coffin. But yeah, the blood thing is true.”
“Oh,” is all I can manage. Sure, why not vampires. I mean, I’m a grim reaper. Plus, I’ve seen guardian angels and an elevator to the afterlife. So of course vampires could exist. Suddenly I feel like the main course on the menu. “Everybody here is a vampire?”
Asa takes a step toward me. I mirror his action and back up. “No, there are humans and…” He hesitates. “Werewolves.”
A slightly hysterical laugh slips from me. “Of course, where there’s a vampire there has to be werewolves.”
“Lisa.” He takes another step toward me but I hold up my hand, halting him. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”
I want to be cool about the whole paranormal mess I’ve landed in, but I’m not pulling it off. Why would Constantine send me into a den of vampires without telling me first? “Just give me a minute.” I turn back to Joanna. She’s frantic, like a caged animal needing to get free. The urge to grab her is nearly overwhelming, but I’ve never reaped a supernatural being before and have no idea what will happen. “Joanna, do you realize you’re dead?”
She stops and glares at me as if I just said I am going to stake her. I wonder if that really works on vampires.
Since I have no intention of trying, I let that random thought drift away without being voiced.
“What did she say?” Asa asks.
“Nothing.” I glance at him. “I don’t think she realizes it.” Impulsively, I reach up to my neck and grip the raven charm dangling from my necklace. Given to me by my familiar, Fletcher, a raven that adopted me, the charm has kept me safe against the effects of my porter’s compulsions. I hope it has some magical properties against the paranormal crazy swirling around the room. “Do you understand me, Joanna? You’re dead.”
Blunt, but at this point, I’m making shit up as I go along.
“Dead?” She shakes her head, her short blond hair swinging around her face. “I’m dead?”
“Yes, but your soul is trapped here.” I inch toward her. “I can help you.”
Joanna’s attention focuses toward Asa and she points. “He killed me.”
I stop. “I’m sorry, what?”
“He killed me after we had sex.” A sob hiccups from her. “He did it…he did it…”
She appears unable to string coherent thoughts together. I take a deep breath and look at Asa. “Joanna says you killed her.”
“Fuck.” He places his hands on his shaved head, his eyes wide. “Fuck.”
“Is that true?” From his reaction I know it is, but I have to ask. “Did you kill Joanna?”
His shoulders slump and he lowers his hands. “Yes.” Our gazes lock for a few seconds. “But I had to—at least I thought I had to.”
My gig is reaping people who are already dead. Actually killing somebody has never crossed my mind. Well, except for the cable guy who never shows up when he says he will. Asa’s confession is a lot to process and it takes all my willpower not to run screaming from the room.
“Okay. Okay.” I blink several times trying to not completely freak out. Vampires, and one of them was a murderer. I am so killing Constantine when I got back to Anchorage. “I have to deal with Joanna first.” The whole reason I’m at this vampire hotel is to reap the souls. I focus on that. Having a purpose is the only thing keeping me sane at the moment. “Joanna.” I edge toward her until I’m within reach. She bares her teeth at me and hisses, just like in vampire movies, but I hold my ground. “I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you.”
Her eyes follow my hand as I reach for her, but she doesn’t attack or run. The second my fingers connect, her body relaxes.
“What are you doing?” Asa says behind me.
“Joanna and I are going to have a little talk.” I smile at her. “Nothing more.”
She focuses are me and her gaze is more lucid than before. “I didn’t mean it,” she says.
“Didn’t mean what?” I have no idea what she’s talking about but I don’t want to alienate her now that I’ve got a hold on her.
“I wasn’t myself.” She glances at Asa. “Tell him I wasn’t myself. I wouldn’t have harmed her. Well, maybe I would have at the time.” Her confused eyes meet mine. “I feel better touching you.”
Without looking at him I repeat what she says. “Joanna wants me to tell you she wasn’t herself.”
A few seconds of silence pass before he answers. “I know.”
Drawn by the utter desolation in his tone I look at him. “What’s she talking about?”
“Vivian used Joanna for a time and she—Joanna—went a little nuts. Talked about draining Vivian.”
“And that’s why you killed her?” Going completely on instinct and what I’d seen in the movies, I suspect Vivian is the head honcho of vampires. Of course Asa would protect his master if she was threatened. The explanation makes sense and gives me the peace of mind I need. At least now I know I’m not in the room with a cold-blooded killer. “To protect Vivian?”
He nods. “But I shouldn’t have. I should have trusted Vivian to take care of the situation.” He swallows hard, his gaze boring into me. “Tell Joanna I’m sorry.”
My heart actually hurts for him. There is no doubt he’s been living with a lot of guilt. All I have to go on is my gut reaction, so I decide to trust what he’s telling me. I look at Joanna. “She can hear you.”
Joanna takes both my hands in hers, gripping them tightly. “Tell him I would have done the same thing and that I’m sorry.”
A buzz of energy ripples along my skin. Wow, these supernaturals have way more ectoplasmic juice than a human. The sensation hums through my body, giving me a jolt of pleasure and at the same time feels like it’s draining me.
“She says she’s sorry too and that she understands.” I take a deep breath and exhale. I’m not sure how much longer I can handle the energy she’s pouring into me, or maybe sucking from me, so I decide to move the reaping along. “Hal.”
“Who are you talking to?” Asa asks.
“My porter.” I grip Joanna’s hands tighter. “He’ll take Joanna where she needs to go.” I glance around the room but there’s no expanding light that indicates his arrival. “Hal.” The damn porter is so contrary. Showing up when I don’t need him. Not making an appearance when I do. Clearing my throat, I look at the ceiling and holler. “Hal Lee Lewya, get your ass up here!”
I say up because I always assume he’s mucking around in Hell. It seems to be one of his favorite hangouts. And he’s made it quite clear he’d like to take me for a spin around the ninth circle of Hell just for fun. That’s why I keep my distance. Hal’s last reaper ended up in a mental institution after experiencing one of Hal’s hellish joyrides.
Five feet from us a thin line of pink light stretches. “About frickin’ time,” I mumble.
“Is he here?” Asa looks around the room. From his expression I can tell he’s skeptical.
“You might want to come and stand by me, Asa.” Hal doesn’t seem to have any effect on humans, but vamps might be a different story. “Just to be on the safe side.”
Asa’s eyes narrow, as if deciding if I’m serious. After a few seconds, he strides to where I’m standing. “I’m not saying I believe you, but—I’m not saying I don’t.”
“You don’t have to believe me.” I give him a humorless smile. “Doesn’t affect my job one way or the other.”
The light expands, dims, and an elevator door slides open.
“What the hell is that?” Joanna asks.
“That is Hal Lee Lewya, my porter.”
“Lisa, so nice to see you again.” He bows, tipping his orange leopard top hat at the same time. When he straightens his gaze skates to Joanna. “And what do we have here?”
Unlike the other times I’ve had a soul ready for him, Hal doesn’t sound all that pleased. “This is Joanna.”
“I didn’t ask who.” His upper lip curls in a partial sneer. “I asked what.”
Oh shit, was he seriously going to raise a stink about transporting a vampire? Maybe I was supposed to call a different porter, somebody who had experience with supernaturals. I decide to play it cool and act like I know exactly what I’m doing. “You know what she is so why are you asking?”
“I don’t do vampires.”
I would have propped my fists and my hips and scowled at him but I didn’t want to let go of Joanna. So I paste on my best glare. “You’re going to transport this vampire and whoever else I have for you.”
“Says who?” His yellow eyes peer at me over the top of his tiny round glasses, challenging me.
“If you don’t take these reaps I’m going to tell Constantine.” My smile spreads and I shake my head. “Never mind. When Constantine hears you wouldn’t transport the souls—souls he specifically sent me up here to reap, I’ll get a new porter. Which is great with me. So, bye-bye.”
Hal harrumphs and looks at the ceiling. There’s many layers to Hal, more than I could unpeel in my lifetime. But I’ve learned to read him in our short time together. One thing is certain. He’s afraid of Constantine.
“Fine.” He snaps open a black feather fan and waves it in front of his face. “I’ll reap your vampires, but it’s going to cost you.”
“Gold, sweetie. I do this as a specialty, but the ferryman isn’t so accommodating. He requires payment.”
“I’ve never had to pay before.”
“You’ve never reaped a vampire before.” He levels his gaze on Joanna. “They take special handling.”
“What’s going on?” Asa asks.
“Hal wants to be paid—in gold.” I look at him. “You don’t happen to have some gold bullion on you, do you?”
“No.” His hand dips inside his pocket and pulls out a circular piece of metal. “All I have is my challenge coin.”
My dad has a similar coin from his time on the police force. “Is that for serving in the war?”
“Not really. It’s a symbol for my battalion, the 503rd Infantry Airborne. It’s awarded for excellence. I carried it with me throughout my tours in Afghanistan.” His thumb rubs the embossed face for a second and then he hands it to me. “Maybe this will work.”
“No.” I can tell it means a lot to him. “We’ll figure out something else.”
“Take it.” He shoves it at me again. “It’s fitting that I use it to help Joanna.”
I hold onto the ghost with one hand, but reach with the other and lay it on Asa’s wrist. “Are you sure?”
Hal’s says, his interest piqued, “What is the young man offering?”
Asa stiffens and slowly turns. “Holy shit. I see him.”
“You can?” Nobody but the souls I reap have been able to see Hal. I feel the least I should do is introduce everybody. “Asa, this is Hal, my porter.”
Hal straightens, and tosses his shoulder length curls over his shoulder. What a peacock.
“It’s an army coin. Kept me alive and focused while I served.” Asa clutches the small disc to his chest. The action is overdramatic. “Now that I think about it, I don’t want to give it up.”
I suspect his resistance is all show. This vampire is smart, zeroing in on Hal’s true nature. If he can’t have something, the porter wants it all the more.
