Never

by K. D. McEntire

  “Fine,” sniffed Chel, poking through the glove compartment until she located the Carmex. “But if the gothette back there thinks I'm giving her a bye over her attitude at Thanksgiving she's got another thing coming. Dating a dead dude and then getting pissy when the spook dumps your ass? Ew. Gross!”

  Lily pointedly cleared her throat.

  Chel flushed and glanced over her shoulder. “No offense, Peter, or whatever your name is. But you were the cause of a lot of family bullshit. Just sayin’.”

  Wendy glared at Eddie. He smiled genially back, innocence pouring off him in waves. Chel had no way of knowing that Eddie had been against Piotr and Wendy being together from the minute he'd learned about it. It was just a coincidence that she agreed with him.

  The speaker beside the car blared. “WELCOME TO JACK IN THE BOX. CAN I TAKE YOUR ORDER?”

  Jon, true to Chel's promise, had a salad with his cheeseburger. Chel, to Wendy's surprise, ordered a shake with her salad. They were, she decided, doing their best in a bad situation…which was why it pained her to have to make it worse.

  Leaving to chuck the trash, Jon slammed the door behind him. Wendy watched him walk away, wriggling after a few steps to ease his pants out of his butt. Wendy tried to ignore the concern nibbling at her gut but was unable to calm her mind. He was dieting, yes, but Jon was still…so, so big. How had she let his eating issues…and Chel's…get so bad? Everything had been such a mess since their mom's accident! All she wanted was to get a handle on her life and everything was still spinning out of control.

  Jon reappeared a moment later and slid into the driver's seat. “So where to next, sisters-o-mine?”

  “Actually,” Wendy said, clearing her throat and leaning forward into the front seat. “I kind of have a favor to ask.”

  The twins exchanged a look. “Okay, shoot,” Jon said.

  “Call me crazy, but I really, really want to go to San Ramon,” Wendy said, resting her head on her arms. In her periphery she saw Eddie stiffen.

  “You're crazy,” Eddie said, leaning forward and slapping the headrest. “The Reapers live in San Ramon!”

  “Which is why we need to go!” Wendy snapped defensively. “Jane has a point—a couple days ago Elise asked me to help take care of the Lady Walker and I did fail there. And, later, when I was dying from the fever, I called Emma and she said she was on her way but she never showed up. Doesn't that say waylaid to you?”

  “It says ‘trap’ to me,” Eddie said flatly. “This is a terrible idea. What if Jane escaped to San Ramon?”

  “I kind of hope she did,” Wendy retorted bitterly. “I'm going straight to Nana Moses, like I should have the first time Elise came to me and demanded that I toe the Reaper line. Instead I heard her out and ended up in the hospital because of it. No more. I'm going to the matriarch and if Jane or Elise wants to stop me, I'll make them pay for it.”

  “I don't know,” Jon drawled, hesitating. “It's just…Eddie kind of has a point. I mean, Wendy, we can't help you if you cross them. We can't help out; Chel and I know nothing about reaping.”

  “See?” Eddie said, throwing his hands up triumphantly. “Jon sees sense here.”

  “Look, guys, I swear to you on Mom's gr—” Wendy flushed. “I mean, I'll teach you as soon as I can. I promise. Scout's honor. But in the meantime I need to go to San Ramon. It's important. I have to talk to Nana Moses about Elise and Jane, I have to find out what the Lady Walker's been up to, I have to hunt down Emma, and it's not like they've got cell service in the Never.”

  “But—”

  “Wendy has the right to see the Reapers,” Piotr snapped, his voice slicing through Eddie's muttered protests. “They are her family, it is important that she speaks with them. Why do you not see this, Eddie?”

  “Why don't you see that they're going to be gunning for her?” Eddie demanded. “Or are you hoping that she kicks it so you—”

  “Ada is gone, possibly captured by the Reapers,” Lily interjected sharply. “We might yet be able to rescue her. After what she has done for us, it is our duty to do so, if possible.” Lily looked Eddie firmly in the face and Eddie, after a moment, wilted.

  “Yeah, sure,” he muttered. “Fine. You're right.”

  Wendy glanced between Eddie and Lily. Eddie'd hunched up his shoulders and turned his face away. He was blushing. Eddie never blushed.

  “Umm, thanks,” Wendy said to Lily, who met her probing stare with her standard stoicism.

  “Rescuing Ada is the right course of action,” Lily said simply, laying her hands in her lap, fingers lined in a neat row against her kneecaps. “Eddie knows this in his heart.”

  Chel flipped around in her seat to stare pointedly at Lily. “Who is this Ada chara—you know…yeah, never mind, I don't even care at this point, I really don't.” Chel flopped back and poked Jon in the elbow. “Do you ever get the feeling lately that you stumbled into the theater three-quarters of the way through the wrong movie?”

  “All the time,” he sighed and jammed the key into the ignition. “Fine, we can take a run up to San Ramon. BUT. But you owe us one hell of an explanation. And gas money.”

  “Anything you want,” Wendy promised fervently.

  Jon waved an arm at the street. “Buckle up, then. Let's go visit a bunch of crazy Reapers. Top off the night nicely.”

  Filling Jon and Chel in on the details of the past few months took longer than Wendy anticipated. They were more than halfway to San Ramon when she finished.

  Jon changed lanes and yawned. “So what's the deal?” he asked. “What did you all do that landed you in the Never? Kill people? Kick puppies? What?”

  “Nothing,” Lily said, serene and still beside Eddie, gazing out the window at the passing streetlights overhead. “We have done nothing to deserve our fate.”

  “Nothing at all?” Jon scoffed. He missed Piotr's scowl. “Cannibal ghosts? Dark demons from between the worlds? The Never doesn't sound like limbo, it sounds like Hell. If that doesn't say ‘being punished’ I don't know what does.”

  “Turn here,” Wendy directed and Jon slid into the exit lane.

  Looking out the window at the passing streetlights, Elle's reflection grimaced. “The Never might be purgatory, but it's not Hell. Trust me on this.”

  Chel snorted. “What's the difference?”

  Elle chuckled bitterly. “I've been dead almost a century and I haven't once seen an angel with a flaming sword blocking a soul from the Light. We do that to ourselves, no intervention required.”

  Jon smacked the steering wheel with his palm. “Angels like Wendy?”

  “Oh no you don't,” Wendy protested. “I am not an angel. You are not an angel, Chel is not an angel, and Jane and Elise are certainly not angels. No angels here. Nada. None.”

  Sneering, Jon made a rude gesture. “Fine. Whatever. Deny it all you want, but you're some kind of supernatural being. You send the dead into the afterlife! If that's not the job for an angel, I don't know what is.”

  “Hmm,” Chel mused.

  “Oh for…what?” Wendy demanded. “What now?”

  “Welllll…can't Reapers make weapons out of their Light? Blazing swords, maybe?”

  “Not an angel,” Wendy reiterated flatly. Eddie snickered.

  “I'm done with this topic. You're not an angel, whatever,” Jon said, pulling up to the stoplight two streets away from Emma's place. “Here. Despite this piece of crap, we're nearly there.” He flicked the GPS, hard, and turned enough so that Wendy could see his deep scowl. “Ta-frickin’-da.”

  “What's next?” Chel took a deep breath. “You gonna go tattle on Elise and Jane to this Nana Moses lady?”

  “That's the plan,” Wendy said. “With any luck Nana Moses will know where Emma is, too. Or Ada. Elise was pulling Jane's strings and now she's not. All this drama…it has to stop. Let's call down the long arm of the matriarchal law and get the hell out of Dodge.”

  “What if Elise or Jane is there?” Elle asked, playing absently with the ornate edg
e of Lily's skirt. “Will the head honcho really listen to you then?”

  Wendy laughed. “I kind of hope Jane or Elise is there, to be honest. If she actually knew what's been going on, I'm positive that Nana Moses would put her foot down and get Elise's crazy under contro—”

  “Um,” Eddie said quietly as they turned onto Emma's street. “Wendy?”

  The flicker-flash of red-blue-red-blue bathed Emma's house and the surrounding homes in eerie light. The neighboring houses were dark but Emma's place was lit up like an airport runway; every window was bright and several women stood in the front yard, talking among themselves. Several dead corgis—their spirits curious-eyed and bushy-tailed—darted around the yard, yapping.

  An ambulance and a black van sat at the end of the driveway. Two paramedics were loading a gurney into the van. Two more were loading another into the ambulance.

  There was a matte body bag on the gurney.

  “Do you know who might be in the body bag?” Wendy asked Eddie. “You were here for weeks, can you see anything that you recognize?”

  “No,” he whispered. “But I recognize the one they loaded in the ambulance.” He buried his face in his hands. “I guess we know what happened to Emma now.”

  “No. This isn't happening,” Wendy said, gripping Piotr's hands so tightly her knuckles bled white. “Are you sure, Eddie? Lots of us have red hair, maybe it wasn't—”

  “It was,” Eddie said apologetically. “Sorry.”

  “But I never meant for Emma…I just…” Wendy whispered. Piotr squeezed her hand gently and then disentangled their fingers, taking Wendy by the shoulders and pulling her closer for a hug. “Emma wasn't supposed to get hurt,” she told him. “She's not like the others.”

  “It's a little late, Lightbringer,” Elle sneered, hands bunched into fists as she glared at the women gathered on the lawn. “In for a penny, and all that. So that miracle doctor of yours is down for the count. What's next?”

  “Shhh, Elle,” Wendy muttered, desperately trying to organize her thoughts. It was hard going; her mind kept replaying the sight of the bundled body being fed into the back of the black van. “Let me think.”

  Of the half-dozen or so women loitering in the yard, she recognized not a single person. Eddie, who'd spent more time with her extended family than she had, was luckier.

  “Hey,” he said, pointing out a young, plump woman in a pair of yellow pajamas smoking a cigarette on the sidewalk. “There's Annabelle.”

  “Jon,” Chel ordered, “park across the street.”

  “What? Are you mental? No!”

  Chel smacked her twin on the shoulder. “Park the car. We drove all this way. This opportunity goes nowhere, got it?”

  “What are you going to do?” Jon demanded, hands clenching and unclenching on the wheel. “March up to them and ask them to take you to their leader?”

  “Wendy goes nowhere until we find out who passed,” Chel hissed. “I'll make sure it's safe for her to talk to Nana Moses and while I'm at it I'll get the skinny on why the doc is down. Park the f'ing car, Poindexter. They've never seen me, it's safe for me to make nice.”

  “Whatever. Go ahead and try your braindead plan, see if it gets you nailed,” Jon snarled, pulling into the spot Chel indicated. “I'm too tired for this. Get out.”

  The door slammed and Wendy watched, guilty thoughts running crazy circles in her mind, as Chel approached Annabelle and plopped down on the sidewalk beside her. After a moment Annabelle shrugged and held out a hand. Chel pulled a thin silver flask out of her purse and took a swig, then handed the flask to Annabelle.

  “Go ahead, booze it up. Great idea,” Wendy grumbled, latching on to her annoyance like a life preserver. “I thought only alkies kept flasks in their purses.”

  “She quit everything else cold turkey, and we didn't know if you were gonna live or die in the hospital or what,” Jon growled, rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes. “Wendy, just…lay off, okay? For once? Stop pushing everyone so hard. We're not you.”

  “Excuse me?” Wendy snapped. The surge of irritation was too much, and she knew she was vastly overreacting, but letting the anger pound through her kept her hands steady and sharpened her thoughts. “Dude, Dad thought I was the one with a drug problem. He thought I was the one with issues, thanks to her.”

  “Oh you have issues,” Jon replied, yawning and ignoring her quiet fury. He sagged in his seat suddenly, and looked lost. “Everyone in this family does. Yours just aren't the type that can be fed over-the-counter.” Wendy thought Jon glanced at Piotr in the rear view mirror as he said that, but it could have been her imagination.

  “All that…crap will kill her,” Wendy retorted, deciding to not touch the Piotr point, annoyed that Jon, ever the peacekeeper, was stubbornly refusing to rise to the bait. He knew her too well, damn it.

  “Well, apparently in this family dying really isn't such a downer,” Jon said levelly, rubbing his eyes. “Besides,” he added in a quieter tone, “you've spent years be-bopping around town hanging out with the dead. That's healthy?”

  “Shut up, you two! Chel's actually getting info off Annabelle,” Eddie said suddenly, leaning his face as close to the window as he could without sliding through the glass and exposing himself to the Reapers. “Can anyone hear what they're saying?”

  They all strained in silence. Nothing.

  “So, who is this chick?” Wendy asked, leaning over Piotr's lap to peer out the side window. She felt him still beneath her, his hand briefly brushing her thigh and hesitating against her hip before settling on her lower back where her corset rode up.

  “Cousin of a cousin or something,” Eddie replied dismissively, sitting back and flicking a glance at Piotr's hand with a tiny frown. He reached over and patted her shoulder familiarly, fingertips resting at the nape of her neck.

  “You don't know for sure?” Annoyed with their subtle pawing, Wendy shrugged both of them off.

  “I didn't bother tracking who was related to who after a few days,” Eddie said. “There are just too many of you. It's all a big hive, really, with a Nana Moses queening it up at center stage.” Wendy didn't miss the momentary smirk Eddie shot Piotr when he thought she wasn't looking. She sighed inwardly. Now wasn't the time.

  Behind them the ambulance pulled away, the headlights washing across the car and illuminating the interior. Jon ducked.

  “With Emma out of the picture, even temporarily, it's all a crazy show now,” Elle murmured, fists still clenching and loosening in her lap. Lily patted her shoulder and Elle shrugged her hand away, disdainful of the offered comfort. “We have no idea if even one of them other than her and Nana Moses is going to be on our side. Bunch of loose cannons. That's just fabulous.”

  “Heads up, Chel's done,” Jon said sharply, straightening in his seat. “She's got company.”

  Behind them, Elise stood at the top of the driveway, outlined by the light pouring from the opening garage, pointing and shouting, gesturing wildly at their car. The women on the lawn were turning in their direction. Annabelle's hand was at her chest; the edges of her body were beginning to glow.

  Elle turned in her seat. “What's happ—”

  As Chel yanked the passenger side door open, one of the nearest Reapers, a middle-aged woman with a no-nonsense haircut, grabbed her by the ponytail and pulled hard.

  “CHEL!” Jon yelled reaching for his buckle.

  “Don't you dare!” Wendy snapped at her brother. “Give her a sec! She might be able to twist free!” She turned to Piotr, hissing, “If Chel can't get free on her own you need to do something! Poke that bitch in the brain! Please, Piotr? Please!”

  “We need to help her now!” Eddie cried, trying to crawl over Elle to help Chel. Elle and Lily both grabbed him by the arms and pinned him down.

  “Living against the living!” Elle shouted in his ear as Eddie fought and bucked. “You can't do anything against Reapers, you dumbo! They'll burn you up!”

  The Reaper was persistent. Chel manag
ed to half-claw her way into the passenger side seat.

  “NOW!” Wendy demanded and Piotr nodded once before he shoved past the tangled, struggling mass of Eddie and the girls. Careful to avoid Chel's wild punches, Piotr leaned between the two front seats.

  The middle-aged Reaper was paying no attention to the ghosts; Chel was flailing like a dervish, all arms and elbows and nails made worse for the close quarters, and the Reaper, half-sprawled over Chel's hip and back, had her hands full just keeping a hold of Chel's hair. The other Reapers were coming at a run. Wendy tried to guess their odds and realized that Piotr only had one chance.

  Then Piotr rammed his fist straight into the Reaper's skull.

  “Let. Go.”

  The Reaper did and Chel, twisting on her back, kicked the woman hard in the stomach, driving the Reaper onto the sidewalk where she sprawled, stunned.

  “NOW! GO, JON!” Wendy and Chel yelled simultaneously. Chel yanked her legs into the car and slammed the door. She slapped the door locks as another Reaper, running full-tilt, crashed into the trunk, fingers scrabbling at the window. Another pounded on the back door.

  “GONE!” Jon yanked the wheel and peeled out, swerving around a Reaper in the street, leaving the Elise and brilliantly lit house behind.

  “Chel?” Wendy asked as they merged onto the highway. “What…what happened? What did you find out?” She craned for a moment over her shoulder—no one appeared to be following.

  When she turned back, she saw that Chel was bent over, head resting on her knees, her breath coming in sharp, harsh gusts. Her sister was trembling like a stricken violin.

  “Chel?” she asked. “Chel, are you okay? I didn't even see Elise show up. Did she hurt you?”

  “No, no, I'm fine,” Chel said, gripping her knees and slowly uncurling in the seat until she sat up straight. She wiped a hand across her mouth. “You know how you were planning on getting Nana Moses to straighten everything out?”

  Wendy shivered; her stomach suddenly ached. “Yeah?”

  “She's dead.” Chel's fingers tangled together as she tried to get herself under control. “She's dead, your friend Emma's in some kind of coma, and Elise is blaming you for both. The whole family, coast to coast, thinks you set out to kill Nana Moses. That you wormed into her good graces and got to her somehow. She even claims that you did something to Jane's mind to make her bail on the clan. The Reapers are looking for you, Wendy, and they are pissed.”