“I said no,” Aidan said, puffing his chest out as though he had accomplished something.
The wraith regained its footing and turned from Addie. This time, the wraith wasn’t so slow. When it reached for Aidan its hands were so fast all I saw was a blur.
The wraith’s fingers were around Aidan’s neck. Aidan gasped, reaching up to try to release the grip, but he was having trouble breathing.
His face turned red as he fumbled with the fingers closing off his airway. He was struggling, trying to keep from passing out.
I strode toward them. “Stop!”
The wraith didn’t acknowledge my presence.
“I said stop!”
Still nothing.
Aidan’s eyes started to roll into the back of his head. I had no other options. I reared my arm back and plunged the letter opener into the left side of the wraith’s chest – where I assumed its heart (if there was one) still existed. There was initial resistance, but I had enough momentum to push past it.
The door to the room flew open, but I didn’t move my eyes from the wraith. We would have to deal with the fallout after Aidan’s neck was free. Maybe we could convince a psychotic nurse that she imagined all of this?
The wraith howled – a sound that reminded me of an animal dying more than a human being – and then staggered back.
I didn’t have the strength to pull the letter opener back out and try again. Instead, the handle slipped from my grasp.
The wraith reached for the letter opener, trying to dislodge it from its chest. Something weird was happening, though. The wraith’s body seemed to be disintegrating. It started in its fingertips and then traveled up its arms, the edges turning to dust as the phenomenon traveled.
Within seconds the wraith crumbled and completely disintegrated, leaving a pile of black dust where it had stood.
“Holy crap.”
“You can say that again,” Aidan gasped, dropping to his knees.
“What the hell?”
I swiveled to the door to see who had joined us, trying to think of an appropriate lie. As bad as I thought our guest would be, I couldn’t really fathom the truth.
“Griffin,” I groaned.
Twenty-Eight
“Oh, well, this really sucks.”
I rolled my neck as I fixed my gaze on Aidan. “You think?” Despite my anger, I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arm around his waist, placing my other hand on his heart to find the faithful beat that always gave me strength. “Are you okay?”
“I feel a little … flustered,” Aidan admitted.
“Like you’re wearing-the-same-shirt-as-another-guy-at-a-gay-bar flustered or your-heart-might-fall-out-of-your-chest flustered?”
Aidan smirked. “Neither.”
Well, that was something at least.
Griffin strode into the room, his face a mask of disbelief and fear, and let the door swing shut behind him. “What was that?”
I ignored him and kept my focus on Aidan. “Can you stand?”
“Help me.”
I wrapped my arm around Aidan’s waist, letting him put his weight on my shoulders, and helped pull him to his feet. I ran my hand over his neck and the red welts that were starting to appear on his skin, and frowned. “You’re going to look like you’re into some freaky bondage stuff for a couple weeks.”
“That should improve my love life.”
“Are you two deaf? What just happened here?”
Griffin’s face was now as red as Aidan’s welts. He was shifting his toe into the pile of dust – as though worried the wraith would suddenly materialize out of it again – but his eyes busily traveled from the floor to us. My stomach roiled at the accusation – and betrayal – reflected in the dark depths of his eyes.
Aidan plastered a bright smile on his face – although I had no idea where he found the energy. “We’re doing community theater. What do you think about our special effects?”
Crap.
“Community theater?” Griffin was one snide comment away from exploding. “That’s your story?”
Aidan shifted his head, grimacing when the movement reached his neck. “Not buying that? Good for you. I don’t blame you.”
“Aidan,” I warned.
Griffin managed to regain some form of control, but it was minimal. “I am not joking with the two of you.”
I glanced at Aidan, but I knew we were at a crossroads that only I could traverse. “Why don’t we go outside?”
“Outside? What about the dead … thing?”
“We need to clean that up,” I admitted. “Aidan can do it.”
“Oh, Aidan can do it,” Aidan muttered. “It’s not like Aidan didn’t just almost die.”
“You were nowhere near close to dying,” I retorted. “I was in a lot more danger when it tried to kill me than you were just now.”
“You were in a lot more danger?” Griffin looked momentarily confused. “Is this what threw you through the window at the hospital?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Probably.”
“We have no idea,” Aidan admitted. “It could be, though.”
“There are several in the area,” I said, trying to explain. “They all look alike, though. We have no way of being able to tell whether it’s the same one.”
Griffin ran a hand through his hair and then placed his hands on his hips. “I want an explanation.”
“What are you even doing here?” Aidan asked.
Griffin was flabbergasted. “What?”
“Why are you here?”
“Why are the two of you here?”
“We have a reason,” Aidan replied.
“Aidan likes pie and my dad thinks I’m incompetent,” I griped.
Yeah, now Griffin looked furious. That comment pretty much tipped him over into outright rage. “You have three seconds … .”
“We’re reapers,” Aidan supplied.
That wasn’t enough of an explanation for Griffin. “Reapers? What does that even mean? Are you monsters?”
I took a step forward, causing Griffin to take a step back. I tried to pretend his reaction wasn’t a knife to my heart – but it was hard. “We’re grim reapers,” I clarified.
“Like angels of death?”
“Kind of,” Aidan said. “We’re better – and much better looking, though.”
I pinched Aidan’s ribs. “That’s not helping.”
Griffin’s hands tightened into fists. “Someone better start some explaining.”
Next to us, still in her bed, Addie’s breath started rattling in her chest. I glanced over at Aidan, asking for silent permission, and he nodded. “Show him.”
I pulled the scepter from my pocket, glancing at Griffin to try to reassure him, but since overt fear was the only emotion I could feel rolling off of him I focused on Addie.
When she ceased breathing, I held up the scepter and waited. The second I saw her soul detaching I sucked it into the scepter and then turned back to Griffin. Unfortunately, since he was human, he had no idea what had just transpired.
“She’s dead?”
“She’s gone,” I agreed.
“Did you kill her with that stick?”
“No.”
“What did you do with the stick?”
“I absorbed her soul,” I said, rubbing the bridge of my nose to ward off the headache that was building in my temples. “That’s what we do.”
“You’re soul thieves?”
“No,” I said. “We’re … couriers.”
Griffin remained silent, his face immovable.
“We’re like UPS for souls,” Aidan supplied.
“You’re not helping,” I growled. “Find a dustpan and broom or something.”
Aidan looked nonplussed. “We’re just going to sweep it up and put it in the garbage?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
Aidan shifted his gaze to Griffin. “What about him?”
“I’m going to talk to him.”
“What if … ?
”
“He’s not going to hurt me,” I said. “You know that.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m not sure. He looks … broken.”
One look at Griffin’s face caused a river of doubt to rush through me, but I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
Aidan was doubtful, but he slipped around Griffin and exited the room.
Once we were alone, Griffin finally started moving again. “This? This is what you’ve been hiding? You’re some sort of magical … I don’t know … mailman?”
“I’m a woman.”
Griffin’s face reddened further, something I didn’t think possible. “So, you’re a dead mailwoman?”
“I’m not dead,” I replied. “I’m alive.”
“But you collect souls?”
“Yes.”
“Then what do you do with them?”
“We help them move on,” I said, tamping down the irritation starting to encompass me.
“Move on where?”
I considered how to answer him. The whole story would take too long. I had to simplify this. “Wherever they’re supposed to go.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
I hated how helpless he looked. “It depends on what they believe,” I said. “If they’re Catholic, they follow Catholic rules. If they’re Muslim, they follow Islamic law. If they’re Jewish, well, Jewish law applies.”
“So they go to Heaven?” Griffin still looked confused.
“It depends,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “How you live your life depends on how you spend your afterlife.”
Griffin didn’t look convinced. “For all I know, you just waved a stick around and pretended it was magic.”
He had a point, which brought up another question.
“You saw the wraith, though.”
“What?”
“You shouldn’t have been able to see it,” I said. “You’re human. To you, it should have looked like Aidan and I were fighting air. How is that possible?”
“You’re asking me?” Griffin’s voice was bordering on shrill now.
“What did you see?”
“I saw a seven-foot-tall freak in a cloak,” Griffin exploded. “He had his hands around your brother’s neck until you stabbed him with a knife and then he turned into a big pile of dust.”
“It was a letter opener,” I corrected.
“What was?”
“It wasn’t a knife, it was a letter opener.”
“Do you think that’s a salient point?” Griffin was not getting any less angry.
I guess not. “I don’t understand how you could see the wraith and not the soul transfer,” I said. “I guess it wasn’t cloaked, but that doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. Why would it come into a retirement community uncloaked? If it was cloaked, though, you shouldn’t have been able to see it. I’m confused.”
“What?” I don’t think I was the only one confused.
“That shouldn’t be possible,” I said, trying again.
“What shouldn’t be possible?” Griffin asked through gritted teeth.
“Well, if you’re human, you shouldn’t be able to see either,” I explained. “If you’re something … other … you should be able to see both.”
“That’s an explanation?”
I sighed. There was no way I was going to convince him without the whole story. I motioned to one of the chairs. “You might want to sit down.”
“Why? Are you going to suck me into that thing, too?”
My heart clenched. I tried to keep my face impassive, though. “Do you think I want to hurt you?”
Griffin’s eyes met mine, searching. Finally, he moved to the chair and sat down. “Go ahead. Wow me.”
So I did.
I told him a story. It was a long story. It was a story about my family. It was a story about faith. It was a story about religion and the beginnings of humanity. It was a story about love, forgiveness and forever. It was a story about paranormals living in a human world. It was a story about moving on, moving up and, sadly, moving down. It was a story about evil sucking souls to survive. I told him the history of the reapers – at least as much as I dared. The whole story would take longer than either of us had to spare right now. As it was, the story took a long time – and a lot of fought-off tears.
When I was done, Griffin’s face crumbled as he dropped it into his hands. I wanted to move toward him, run a hand through his hair, and offer him whatever limited comfort I could. I didn’t, though.
“I can’t believe this,” he said.
“I’m sorry.” I meant it. My heart ached at his pain. “I’m so sorry.”
“I thought … I always thought that God was real. I have seen horrible things. Terrible things. Rape. Murders. Hate. I still thought God was real.”
I dropped to my knees, shuffling toward him, only stopping when he flinched at my movements when I got too close. I swallowed the knot in my throat. “God is real,” I said. “He’s real to you, and he’s real to your faith.”
Griffin lifted his head, hope streaking across his face. “So, if I die, I’m going to Heaven?”
I didn’t have his file. I couldn’t be sure. My heart told me the answer, though. “Yes.”
“And you? Do you go to Heaven?” Griffin asked.
“We go wherever our beliefs lie when we die,” I said, swallowing hard to keep the tears at bay.
“And what are your beliefs?”
I shrugged. “We’re Catholic.” The truth was, I wasn’t sure what I believed. Now certainly wasn’t the time for that admission, though.
Griffin reached a hand toward me, as though he wanted to capture my chin in it. He stopped himself, though. He cleared his throat and got to his feet instead. “I’ll handle this.”
I was surprised, but I followed suit. When I was on my feet, I searched his face for clues, but there was nothing there for me to find. “We can handle this. It’s our responsibility.”
“I think you’ve done enough.” His voice had gone cold.
“Griffin … .”
“Detective Taylor,” he corrected me. “I’ll handle this from here.”
Tears were threatening to spill from my eyes. If he could be cold, though, so could I. Did I really think this would end any other way? “Thank you.”
Griffin didn’t bother to meet my eyes. “Have a nice day.”
I had been dismissed. I took the hint.
Twenty-Nine
When I opened the door to the condo, I knew what I looked like: A broken-hearted idiot.
If Jerry were a worse person, he would have commented. My hair was a mess. My eyes were red and puffy from crying. My face was drawn and pale -- easy fodder for someone like Jerry.
Instead, he was on his feet and his arms were around me before I could shut the door.
“What happened, Bug?”
“A wraith attacked,” I said, finally allowing myself to feel what I wanted to feel. “I killed it.”
“You killed it?” Jerry pulled back so he could see my face. “Shouldn’t that make you happy?”
“Griffin saw,” I sobbed, burying my face in Jerry’s broad chest. “He saw and he hates me.”
“How? I thought you were at an old folks home?”
“We were,” I said, wiping my nose in Jerry’s paisley shirt. “It should have been easy. It was supposed to be easy.”
“But a wraith showed up?” Jerry led me to the couch, never removing his arms from my shaking frame.
“Not on my job,” I sniffed, settling myself in the crook of his arm.
“It killed an old person? That’s terrible.” Jerry loves old people.
“No,” I shook my head. “Aidan was there. Apparently he hangs out with the old women so they can boost his ego whenever he’s in the area.”
“Maybe he just likes them?”
I glanced up at Jerry. “Now is not the time.”
“I’m sorry,” Jerry said, rubbing my back. “So Aidan was there.”
“Y
ou know he was there,” I practically exploded. “You called him.”
“I told him not to tell,” Jerry complained. “I didn’t want to look bad.”
I pulled my head back. “Really? You’re worrying about you now?”
“I’m sorry, Bug. You have to tell me what happened, though. I’m going to freak out if you don’t.”
“Griffin was at the home visiting someone – I still don’t know who – and when the wraith attacked he walked into the room.”
“And you killed it?”
“I stabbed it with a letter opener and it turned into a big pile of dust. It was horrifying – and kind of cool.”
“That’s good, right?” Jerry is a glass half-full kind of guy. “You can kill them.”
“Jerry!”
“Right, we’re talking about your almost boyfriend.” Jerry centered himself. “Tell me.”
“Griffin walked in right before I stabbed it and it turned to dust,” I said.
“What did he say?”
“What do you think he said? He had a few questions.”
“What did you do?”
“Well, Aidan started by telling him it was a community theater project,” I complained. “When that fell flat, Aidan told him we were reapers.”
Jerry’s breath caught in his throat. “What did he say?”
“What do you think he said? Are you trying to kill me?”
“Hey,” Jerry said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m trying to help you. I don’t know how to handle this situation. Sue me. I just want to help.”
“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it,” I complained.
“I’m all confused,” Jerry admitted.
“Confused isn’t the right word,” I said. “I think dumbass is.”
“Well, you know what I mean. Don’t leave me hanging, Bug.”
“Short story? I made Aidan leave the room and I told Griffin the truth.”
“The whole truth?”
“This story is going to take a lot longer if you keep interrupting me,” I chastised.
“Fine, tell me the story.”
When I was done, Jerry’s eyes were wider than saucers. “He told you to call him Detective Taylor?”
“That’s what you’re upset about?” I love Jerry, but the things he deems important baffle me sometimes.
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