Brooke made a beeline for the elevators. Avery had to rush to keep up.
"You're terrible," she said.
"Again, I would like to point out that an hour ago I was just a weepy ball of tears curled up in a super uncomfortable chair in the ER waiting room," Brooke said.
"And what's your excuse for every other day?" Avery asked.
Brooke ignored the question. "You know, we're getting nowhere here."
"I know."
"We need to get ahead of this thing and wrap it up," Brooke said.
"You're just saying things that I already know," Avery replied.
"How 'bout this," Brooke said. "We're not going to get ahead of this thing."
"Wow, you went negative fast," Avery said, pulling out her cellphone.
"Not as fast as you would think," Brooke replied. "Have I pointed out how much of an emotional wreck I am?"
"Repeatedly," Avery said. "Don't worry, though. We can get this under control. We just need some equipment."
twelve
Avery and Brooke were back in the waiting room when Thane Grym walked in, carrying a small duffel bag. Thane was a tall man. Next to him, Avery felt tiny. He had arms built for holding a woman and a strong, square jawline was tempered with a soft smile that he always had on deck whenever Avery was around. His eyes were a soft blue that Avery could lose herself in at a moment's notice. His short brown hair was growing out, adding a softer definition to his head. Today he was dressed in a pair of faded light blue jeans and an old-looking plaid, longsleeve shirt.
"Ladies," he greeted them, handing over the duffel bag. "You girls in the middle of something?"
"You could say that," Avery replied, avoiding his gaze. She opened the duffel bag and rummaged through it.
"Everything's there," Thane said, sounding slightly offended.
"Didn't say it wasn't," Avery replied.
"Yeah, but you're kind of going through it like my mom used to when she sent me to the store to pick up groceries."
There was a noticeable chill in the air.
"Ooh," Brooke said. "Bit of advice: never compare Avery to anyone's mother. Not yours, not ours. She doesn't take it well."
Avery looked at her sister. "What are you doing?"
"I thought that was obvious," Brooke said. "I was giving the pretty boy some advice. That's why I opened with, 'bit of advice.'"
"Pretty boy?" Thane echoed.
"Oh, come on," Brooke said to him. "Like you haven't heard that one before."
"Actually," Thane said. "I haven't. People don't normally call me pretty. I've got more of a manly look going on than a pretty one."
"It is the twenty-first century," Brooke said. "Men can be pretty now."
Thane shook his head. "I don't think we want to be, though."
Brooke shrugged. "Well, I don't think women wanted to be objectified endlessly for hundreds of years. I think you guys can deal with being pretty for a little bit."
Avery zipped up the bag loudly. "Okay, looks like everything's here and this conversation sounds super weird."
"I told you everything was there," Thane said.
"Thank you," Avery replied, still not meeting his gaze. She hoisted the bag over her shoulder and started for the elevator.
"Hey." Thane grabbed her by the shoulder. "My dance card's pretty full today, Russell's got me running all over the city picking up souls that all need picking up before six. But if you guys need any help..."
There was a brief thrill of electricity that ran through Avery's body as he touched her. She quickly shrugged off his hand. "We've got this."
"How exactly do we have this?" Brooke asked her. "Twenty minutes ago we had no idea what was going on. Now we've got this? Am I missing something?"
"Please stop talking," Avery said. "Please."
"Look," Thane began.
"Don't make this awkward," Avery said tiredly. The words were out of her mouth before she even realized that she had said them. She took a step back, her eyes flitting nervously across his face.
"Awkward?" he said. He paused, rubbing his forehead. "Avery, I think we need to talk."
"There's nothing we need to talk about," Avery quickly said.
"I don't know," Brooke interjected. "I don't have all the facts here, but it certainly sounds like you two need to talk about something."
Avery threw her hands up. "Seriously, isn't there a weepy ball you need to curl into?" she asked her sister.
Brooke shook her head. "No. This is far too interesting."
"Look, Avery," Thane said, obviously struggling with the words. "What happened that night-"
Avery cut him off. "I called you to help us with this," she pointed to the duffel bag filled with their reaper tools. "I didn't call you for any other reason. And, for the last time, I'm going to remind you, again, that I have a boyfriend." She finally looked him in the eyes. "There's nothing to talk about."
Avery turned and started for the elevators.
Brooke gave him an apologetic shrug and followed after her sister.
Thane stood in the waiting room for another minute, hoping that maybe she'd turn around and come back. But she didn't.
Standing at the elevators, Brooke said in a sing-song voice, "I spied with my little eye..."
"Shut up," Avery cut her off. She jabbed her finger at the UP button with a little too much frustration.
"...some unresolved sexual tension," Brooke finished anyway.
"Please don't say another word."
"You should resolve it," Brooke suggested. "The sexual tension."
"And those would be the words I didn't want you to say."
Brooke shrugged. "What can I say? I'm sorry. I can't help it if the truth just comes to me."
"And, yet, it's not the truth that comes out of your mouth," Avery said. "Do you hang on to the truth for a later date? Maybe you're compiling it for a book of some kind?"
"Here's what I think," Brooke said as the elevator arrived. The sisters stepped in and Avery pushed the button for the third floor. "I think you should tell me what happened between you and Tane the other night."
"Nothing happened."
Brooke watched her sister's face for a moment, paying careful attention to her expression, or lack thereof. "Okay," she said. "I got ya."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing happened," Brooke said. "That's the problem."
"I don't know what you think the problem is, but it's not that."
"The problem is that nothing happened between the two of you and you obviously wanted something to happen," Brooke said.
"Oh my goodness," Avery muttered into her hands. "What would it take for you to stop talking about this?"
"Probably some kind of admission," Brooke said. "Maybe something along the lines of, 'You're right, Brooke. I totally have the hots for Thane Grym and I don't know what to do about it.' And, then, you know, I'd give you all sorts of helpful advice and maybe save you from an unhappy marriage to Dr. Scuzzball."
"Alright, you can't call Jack 'Dr. Scuzzball,'" Avery said.
"I kind of can when it's true."
"Except it's not true," Avery continued. "And I'm not looking to get married right now. To anyone. So stop talking about marriage."
"Maybe you should stop thinking about marriage, then," Brooke replied.
"I'm not thinking about it."
"You totally got a look when I mentioned it earlier," Brooke said. "That glassy-eyed look that girls get when they start designing their wedding dress and picking out floral arrangements. And that's cool. I get that. No judgements."
"Seriously? No judgements, from you? The same girl that cheated on her boyfriend every day of the week? And I'm supposed to be concerned that you might judge me?"
"It wasn't every day of the week."
"It felt like every day of the week."
"And, you, obviously, have a different opinion of marriage than I do," Brooke said. "I didn't get the most flattering example to follow, you know."
&nbs
p; "What are you talking about?" Avery asked. "We had the same parents! We're only a couple of years apart. There's no way you would have had any different example."
"When you went out with Dad on jobs," Brooke said. "Who stayed behind with Mom? I did. It was me and her, while you and Dad were out being awesome and hunting down souls. And the portrait she painted of their marriage on those days wasn't as pleasant as the one we saw when the family was together."
"It’s interesting you should say that," Avery said. "Because I got the exact opposite when I was with Dad. You know how many times he called home when he was working late? A lot. He called home a lot."
"And if he was too busy calling home," Brook replied, "he didn't have enough time to bring in his bounties and put food on the table. Or did you forget all the times we ate Ramon noodles."
Avery opened her mouth and then stopped herself. "I honestly have no idea what we're arguing about. You don't think Mom and Dad had a great marriage? So, what, you're opposed to marriage? Or are you complaining that Dad was too family-oriented and the family finances suffered because of that? Seriously, I'm completely lost."
"I'm just saying that marriage isn't for me," Brooke replied. "I totally understand why you might want it, but it's not for me. And I don't think it's for Dr. Scuzzball either."
"Stop calling him that," Avery said. "And I'm not thinking about marriage."
"Of course you're not," Brooke agreed, but she didn't sound very convinced. "I'm sure it's very hard to think about marrying one man, when you've got unresolved sexual tension for another."
The elevator arrived on the third floor and the girls got out.
thirteen
Dr. Burton eyed the Graves sisters warily.
"I don't really feel comfortable with this," he said.
Brooke folded her arms. "I'm pretty sure it's not about what you feel comfortable with."
"As the attending doctor here, I'd have to disagree," Burton replied curtly.
"Okay," Avery said patiently. "Do you feel more comfortable with a twenty-three year old man living the rest of his life in constant pain from injuries that should have killed him? Because that's what's going to happen."
"Really?" Burton asked with an accusatory tone. "You're a doctor now? Because I've been a doctor for over twenty years and I have no idea what's going on with that poor kid in there. I doubt you have much of an idea, either."
"I know dead people, Dr. Burton," Avery said. "That's what I know."
Burton ran a nervous hand over his face. They stood just inside the OR on the third floor. He glanced back through the doors to the waiting room where the Berge's sat. They hadn't moved since they had seen their dead son stumble out of his operating room.
"This is why I hate you people," he said.
"You people?" Brooke echoed. "Is that a reference to our gender or the fact that we're reapers?"
He glared at her.
"Oh, that's nice," Brooke said. "More dirty looks. Is there at least one doctor in this hospital that knows a little something about bedside manner? And if there is, where are they? Is this their day off or something?"
Burton shook his head, holding up his hands. "You know what? Forget it. I'm not getting in the middle of this."
"Getting in the middle of what exactly?" Avery couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What do you think this is? Because whatever you think this is, it's not. This kid is supposed to be dead."
Burton straightened up. "I think this is a malpractice suit waiting to happen," he hissed. "That's what I think this is. And I'd rather not be at the center of it."
"A malpractice suit?" Brooke looked at her sister in disbelief. "What the hell?"
"I was just thinking the same thing," Avery said.
"I feel like all the doctors in this hospital have a serious misunderstanding in how the circle of life is supposed to go," Brooke said. "People live, then they die. That's pretty much it. They don't come back after they die. Is this a difficult concept for you to understand? The law has nothing to do with this."
"Then you obviously haven't dealt with a lot of grieving families," Burton said. "The law always has something to do with it."
Brooke held up a finger. "Could you be anymore of an irritating lunkhead? Do you have to work at it or does it just come naturally?"
"Now, Brooke, we don't need to resort to name calling," Avery said.
"Is it name calling if he's actually being a lunkhead, though?" Brooke asked. "Because then, all I'm really doing is describing him."
"Call me whatever you want to. I don't care," Burton said. "This whole thing is way over my pay grade. That's why I'm not going to be the one responsible for messing anything up anymore than it already is." He pointed to the Berges. "Did you talk to them? Did they give you their consent to do your hocus-pocus on their son?"
"Here's a tip," Brooke said. "What we do isn't actually called hocus-pocus. And it's kind of offensive when somebody suggests that it is."
Avery folded her arms. "Do they really look like they're in any condition to give consent for anything?"
"Exactly," Burton replied. "I'm not taking the hit for this. You want to do anything with this kid, you go through his family or administration. Period."
"I can't believe this," Brooke muttered.
"That makes two of us," Avery said. "Look, clearly there's been some confusion. We're not actually here to ask your permission. We don't need it. We were just trying to be polite."
Brooke pointed to her sister. "She's trying to be polite. I could care less about etiquette. Remember back when I called you a lunkhead? That's the kind of person I am."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Burton asked.
"The Berge's son is dead," Avery said. "Or, well, he's supposed to be. We don't need your permission to do anything. The dead are our jurisdiction. But, hey, thanks for being an ass." With that, Avery pushed passed Burton and walked into the OR.
Brooke lingered for a moment. "It's funny, really, because she's so much more concerned with etiquette than I am, but she gets way meaner than I could ever get. That's weird, right?"
Burton just stared at her, his jaw hanging open.
"Right," Brooke patted him on the shoulder. "You're a lunkhead. What was I thinking?" Shaking her head, Brooke followed after her sister.
Brooke stayed near the back of the room. The Berge's boy laid on the operating table, in a mess of blood and guts. It wasn't a scene that she was unfamiliar with, but usually the dead bodies weren't moving. She had to fight the urge to vomit the minute she walked in. It helped if she didn't look directly at him.
If Avery was bothered by the sight, she didn't show it. She stood next to the young man. He twisted his head slowly to look at her, but Avery wouldn't meet his gaze.
"This is so creepy," Brooke whispered. "I see body parts that I'm not supposed to see." She cut herself off with gagging noises.
"Can you please try and be a little respectful?" Avery asked.
"I can either be respectful or puke up my guts," Brooke replied. "But I can't do both."
Avery addressed the young man. "Samuel? My name's Avery. I'm here to help you."
He started to raise his hand, now just a bloody stump. Avery shook her head. "No, Samuel. Just lie there. It's gonna be okay."
He tried to make a noise, to say something, but he couldn't speak anymore.
Avery reached into the duffel bag and pulled out two octagons made of twigs. She placed one on the young man's head and the other she placed very carefully on the ruins of his chest.
There was a flicker of light between the two octagons as random images appeared in the air above his body.
Avery studied the images carefully. "That's interesting."
"What is?" Brooke asked. She tried to look at the data streaming in the air, but her eyes kept drifting back to the bloody mess of the young man's body.
"Well, he's dead," Avery said.
Brooke watched his foot twitched restlessly out of the corner of her
eye. "Are you sure about that?"
Avery pointed to the light show of information. "It's right there. He's dead. His soul still here, but it's not actually attached to his body."
"What?"
"Well, it's like," Avery paused, thinking about it for a minute. "You know, I don't know what it's like. His soul is here, but it's not here." She tapped her finger against her lips. "This reminds me of something. What does it remind me of?"
"That's not very helpful." Brooke caught sight of his foot twitching again. "Are you sure he's dead?”
"Oh, yeah." Avery picked up the octagons and the images faded away. "He's definitely dead."
"Well, what does that mean?"
"Good question."
fourteen
Avery and Brooke walked down the hallway at a brisk pace. Avery was already on the phone with Adam, filling him in on the data she had picked up off Samuel Berge.
"You're describing a soul catcher," Adam said after a minute.
Avery snapped her fingers. "That's it."
"What's it?" Brooke asked. "I'm feeling left out here."
Avery pulled her sister into an empty janitor's closet. She put her cellphone on speaker. "Adam? You still there?"
"Yep," he said, his voice crackling over the phone.
"I put you on speaker," Avery explained.
"I hate being on speaker," Adam said.
"Join the club," Avery replied, but didn't take him off speaker. "Tell Brooke what you just told me."
"It's sounds like you're dealing with a soul catcher," he explained again.
Avery looked at her sister expectantly.
Brooke shrugged. "Sorry. I have no idea what that is. Am I supposed to?"
"Actually," Avery said after a moment’s thought. "Probably not. It was, like, all of half a chapter back in certification. So, this one you're off the hook for."
Brooke did a quick fist pump. "Sweet. So, what's a soul catcher?"
"Adam?" Avery prompted.
"Ah, yes, it's the Answer Man's time to shine," Adam said. "You know, I've totally warmed up to this Answer Man moniker. I'm not normally a fan of nicknames. I mean, usually they're coined at my expense and never in my favor. So this Answer Man thing is kind of tickling my fancy, so to speak. I'm thinking about redoing my whole internet presence with it. And then, I just spent twenty minutes looking at prices for custom made t-shirts. Does that sound weird? Getting a t-shirt made with 'Answer Man' on it?"
Diamond Before Dying (Reapers in Heels #4) Page 7
