The Death of My First Assignment (Death Series)

by Ami Urban

  “Death, meet Kevin Carter.”

  Mr. Carter’s eyebrows knitted together as my companion’s smile grew.

  After a few moments of tense silence, my former teacher threw back his head and laughed.

  “Nice to make your acquaintance…Death. I have to say I’ve followed your work very closely over the past few centuries.”

  “Have you?” Death tossed me a sideways glance. I rolled my eyes.

  Just perfect; the two of them were already best friends.

  “Well, I’m beguiled.”

  “You have an odd way with words,” I said.

  “Are you here to stay?” Mr. Carter asked.

  “Until Katherine’s first assignment is complete.”

  “Cool. I’ve never met a psychopomp before.”

  There was that word again. It was strange how I could learn a word that I’d never before used, and then hear it repeated a million times the same day.

  “He’s the only one of his kind,” I said.

  “Oh, I know. That’s why it’s cool. You’d think as a former wraith, I would’ve seen my fair share of him.” Mr. Carter turned his attention toward me.

  “A former what?”

  “It’s what we call the alter-dimensional beings that buy and sell souls,” I said. “It was the closest analogy.”

  “How adroit.”

  “Well… What’s your name? I mean, we can’t walk around this whole time calling you Death,” Mr. Carter said.

  “Ah…well…I don’t have a proper name. Perhaps you could construct one for me.”

  I smiled, the tip of my tongue squeezing through my teeth.

  “How about Sparkles? Or Fluffy? Or Spot?”

  “I’m not a pet.”

  “Says who? I have a feeling I’m going to have to keep you on a leash…”

  “How about Julian?” Mr. Carter suggested.

  “Julian, hm?”

  I groaned. “Oh, God… That was the first thing I thought of when I saw him, too. I swear I’m turning into a stone cold geek because of you.”

  Mr. Carter laughed.

  “I don’t understand,” Death said. “Who is this Julian fellow? And can his level of handsome equate with mine?”

  “He wants to call you Julian because you look like the doctor from Deep Space Nine,” I said.

  “Deep Space Nine?”

  “Star Trek.”

  “Oh, no…”

  Chapter Six

  Oh, no...

  I was daydreaming about Katie again.

  Man, I missed her like crazy. It wasn’t fair.

  She was the only girl I’d loved in centuries, and she was ripped away from me before I could tell her how I felt.

  Okay, so maybe I had told her how I felt. But it was right before she died in my arms. I don’t even know if she heard me.

  A shudder ran rampant through my muscles as I remembered her last breath. I remembered everything...

  “I...I think I’m dying...”

  Blood trickled down the side of her face, pooling in a tiny river down my dress pants. She was dying, and there was nothing I could do.

  Her hand clawed at my shirt, smearing dirt and sweat on the crisp, white material.

  “Tell me something,” she said.

  “Tell you what?” I glanced up to make sure her best friend was calling an ambulance liked I’d asked.

  “Tell me something so I don’t hate you. I don’t want to die hating you...”

  My heart ripped apart. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I told her everything. I explained how I’d sold my soul to a wraith when I was eighteen. I’d become a healer so I could save someone. Only it didn’t work out the way I’d hoped.

  Then, I told her I loved her.

  Maybe it was just my imagination, but I swear she smiled at me then.

  Her grip on my shirt loosened.

  “Katie, don’t leave me. They made a mistake! You’re a Siren, Katie!”

  Her arm fell limp at her side, the life draining from her beautiful green eyes. They fluttered closed as her head tilted to the side, resting peacefully against my thigh.

  She was dead.

  The girl I loved was dead.

  Someone kicked my foot as they shuffled past the bench. My flight had been delayed, so I was stuck at the Phoenix airport for another forty-five minutes.

  “Sorry, mister!”

  I looked into the bright eyes of a tow-headed kid. He was so cute I couldn’t help but offer a smile.

  “No problem. My name’s Martin. What’s yours?”

  He dropped his chin, pushing the toe of his sneaker around the slick floor.

  “Mom says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

  “Where is your mom?”

  “Joshua!”

  A tall redhead swooped out of nowhere, scooping the kid into her arms.

  “Joshua, don’t you ever run off on mommy like that again. Do you understand?”

  “But, mom! The man looked so sad!” I heard the kid protest as she hauled him away to their gate.

  Jeez, kids were getting so perceptive these days.

  I noticed a threesome at the bar ahead of me. It looked like they were asking for directions. The girl in the middle had a nice figure. I admired it, because it reminded me of...

  She put both hands on her hips and turned to the side to glare at her companion of a darker complexion.

  And that’s when my heart stopped.

  No. No, it absolutely was not possible. No way in hell could that girl have been Katie. Not my Katie. My Katie was dead.

  Yet, there she was. Or at least someone who looked an awful lot like her.

  In that moment, I wished I had some wraith abilities, so I could’ve read her. My Katie was a Siren. She could lure alter-dimensional beings that had taken on a male body with just her song. It even worked for humans sometimes.

  Alas, I couldn’t read her.

  But...I could plant a suggestion in her mind. I could influence her thoughts. Then, she’d turn around and see me.

  I started to stand. But then my brain caught up with my actions.

  What was I doing? Katie was dead. She’d died in my arms.

  I’d gone to her funeral. I’d sat there at the open casket for an hour just watching her beautiful, peaceful face.

  I’d tortured myself! She was dead, and I was still torturing myself.

  The girl threw up her hands at her companion and gestured wildly. Then, I watched as she stomped off in the opposite direction.

  Her two friends waited for a moment, then hightailed it after her.

  And just like that, I decided I had to know.

  So, I bolted up and ran after them, shoving people out of my way as I went. I got close—within reaching distance of them. My legs wouldn’t work fast enough to get all the way there, but I figured as long as I could stay close, maybe I could catch another glimpse to satisfy my curiosity.

  Someone bumped be hard enough to knock me off my gait. I glared at the guy’s back as he shuffled off in a hurry. When I turned around, the three of them were too far ahead. There was no way I could keep up with all these people around.

  Instead, I squared my shoulders and thought hard. I looked straight through the back of her head, allowing my suggestion to pierce her brain and nestle comfortably as though she’d thought of it herself

  Then, she turned. Her short, dark hair flung around in circle, following her movement. But before I could see her face, a flurry of travelers got in my way, obscuring my view of my very dead girlfriend.

  Something was very wrong.

  Chapter Seven

  Something was very wrong...

  “Katie?”

  Mr. Carter placed a hand on my shoulder. My eyes flitted through the crowd of people in the Phoenix airport.

  Where did that thought come from?

  “I just felt like...” I trailed off. What did I feel? Whatever it was, it had disappeared. At that moment, I just felt confused.

  “Why ar
e humans so tense about flight? It’s the most reliable way to travel, you know.” Julian shoved his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans. Death needed a change of style.

  “Safest until the plane crashes…” I wasn’t particularly interested in the conversation, because I was starting to get a headache. “Then everyone dies.”

  “What did you feel, Katie? A wraith?” Mr. Carter abandoned his watch over me. He began searching the crowd as well. If he was reading people, they hid it well. I suppose they were just that desperate to get to their destinations.

  “I don’t—”

  “That word is despicable,” Julian interjected. I eyed him. Interrupting me was a death sentence. “Wraith sounds like a diseased ghost...”

  “Yeah, well—”

  “I’ll be right back, guys,” Mr. Carter said out of nowhere. I fastened my gaze on him.

  “What?”

  “I just need to check something out.”

  “Is there one of them nearby, Mr. Carter?” I felt goose bumps threaten my bare arms.

  “Kevin,” he corrected. “And I can’t tell... We’ve got about forty-five minutes until we have to board. Why don’t you guys go grab a bite? I’ll find you.”

  “Wait, but...!”

  My protest came too late. Mr. Carter—Kevin!—was already wading through the sea of people. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that my headache began pounding at the base of my skull. I rubbed my neck.

  “Looks like it’s just you and me, darling,” Julian purred.

  He held out a hand, motioning to a nearby restaurant.

  “Uh... I don’t have the stomach to deal with you right now.”

  “Oh, come now... No need to be edgy. Planes really are reliable.”

  “Shut up... Just please...shut up,” I rubbed my temples as we sat in a booth of a barbecue restaurant.

  He smiled at the waitress as she came over, pad in hand. I almost saw her melt. His was a charm not far from Valentino or Fabio. The only problem was that since we’d set foot in this airport, everybody looked at him funny. Must have been because the body he’d chosen looked like a...well...a terrorist. Until he opened his mouth and that melodic English accent came out.

  “What can I get for you, babies?”

  “Aspirin if you have it!” I snapped before Julian could open his fat mouth.

  “Sure thing. Anything else?’

  “What’s the most agreeable thing on the menu?” Julian threw her a wink.

  Did she blush? “We’ve got the best pulled pork in the state.”

  “We’ll take two. I have faith in you,” he replied. She giggled. Gross.

  “Fries or slaw?”

  “Fries for her…” He gestured at me. “And coleslaw right here.”

  “You are one smooth fellow,” I grumbled once the waitress had left. “How’d you know I wanted fries?”

  “They’re a form of therapy for headaches where I come from.”

  “That’s just...just...”

  “What?” He leaned forward.

  My guess was he was trying to feign interest in my well-being.

  “Random...” I finished. “I’ve never heard of French fries being a cure for anything except anorexia.”

  He titled his head back and laughed. “How I would love to take you with me. You wouldn’t believe how uninspiring dead souls are.”

  “I imagine they wouldn’t talk much...seeing as they don’t particularly like being dead,” I replied.

  The waitress came back with my aspirin and two waters. I downed my glass, feeling the painful twinge recede at last.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Katherine. Dead souls don’t talk because they don’t have mouths.

  “But, with a sense of humor like yours, my journeys to the alternate dimension would be much livelier.”

  “Uh-huh...”

  Our plates came a moment later. The waitress was right; the pulled pork sandwich looked delicious—red, covered in barbecue sauce, and spilling out of the bun.

  “Say...aren’t you that...?” The waitress raised an eyebrow.

  “No, but thank you for the recognition.” Julian sent her away with a polite smile.

  “You choose strange words when you talk to people.” I dug into my pile of food.

  “I can’t help it. The English language is so versatile and complex. I absolutely love the words—modicum, apparatus, antics, mischief... antidisestablishmentarianism.”

  “Do you even know what that means?” I demanded, pointing a fry at him.

  For once, he didn’t answer.

  “This is where English gets really complex, as you say. Think about it. The suffix ‘ism’ is a doctrine or belief, right?”

  “Sure...”

  “Now, the ending ‘tarian’ is usually used for an expression, choice, or form of government. For instance, totalitarian government.”

  “But ‘ism’ could be used that way as well, couldn’t it? As in capitalism?”

  “That’s my point. Establishment is obvious—an establishment of any kind equals a business.”

  “I’m following...”

  “So, the prefix ‘anti’ usually means opposite, and ‘dis’ means a negation.

  “So, by default without any other assumptions, the word means an anti, opposite, establishment-free governmental control of a government,” I explained.

  “Mystifying.... But...what does it really mean?”

  I swallowed a heavenly bite of pulled pork. “The removal of the Anglican church as the state church of England.”

  “My word...”

  “Very few words in the English language have only one meaning.”

  “I’m curious, Katherine…” He leaned forward again. “How did you find the time to mull all that over?”

  I blushed out of habit. “I’m supposed to be dead. Therefore, I have no life.”

  He chuckled in that soft way.

  “And I love words.”

  “As much as you love your French fries?” He reached over to steal one.

  I couldn’t understand why in the world he’d ordered coleslaw if he wanted fries!

  He was gaining more and more of my dislike the longer I associated with him.

  “Ah!” I chastised, lifting my hand to slap his wrist.

  “Ah-ha!” he scolded back, retracting his hand before I could touch him. Mine was left hovering in mid-air above my plate of food.

  He waggled an index finger at me. “Remember the rules about physical contact? What happens when you touch Death?”

  I was speechless. Even though I knew a lot of mythology was true, I also knew it had been exaggerated. I never thought Death’s Touch was real! If it were, that meant I could never touch Julian. What if I forgot?

  “Really? I...I can’t touch you?”

  His blue-gray eyes sparkled before a hoarse laugh escaped his throat. “You are truly gullible. It was only in jest.”

  “I don’t believe you.” I narrowed my eyes. What was I supposed to believe? Could Julian really kill me with a touch? I had no reason to believe that anything he told me was aside from the truth. My brain started to hurt again.

  “No?” He brought his hand up again, flattening his palm so it was level with mine, mirroring my body language. “Why not give it a try?”

  “No!”

  “Come now, Katherine. You’ve seen death twice already. What frightens you?”

  “Dying for real! If those myths are true, I don’t want to risk it!”

  “What’s life without a little risk?” He faked me out with a little push.

  My entire body retracted.

  “Come on, be a big girl.”

  “Fine!” I pushed my palm flat against his.

  I’d expected his skin to be cold, like that of death. But his hand was warm.

  I could feel the faint beat of his pulse just below the skin. We sat for a moment, saying nothing and just staring at each other.

  “See? I told you it wasn’t that bad.” He curled his fingers do
wn so they laced with mine. I was trapped.

  “Then…it’s not true? You can’t die if you touch Death?” I wondered.

  “Well…” He must have taken a cue from Kevin. I blinked slowly. “If I deem it necessary, I do have the ability to…eradicate human life with a touch.”

  I suddenly wanted to pull away, so I did. He grinned.

  “So, slap me all you want, but it won’t save your French fries!” He snatched one off my plate.

  “Hey!”

  I could have smacked him, but it wouldn’t have done any good. In the end, I decided to let it go.

  Chapter Eight

  In the end, I decided to let it go. I couldn’t see anything over the mass of people, and once they cleared, the three individuals I was following were nowhere in sight.

  I sighed—effectively relinquishing all thoughts that maybe, just maybe my Katie was still alive. It was a preposterous theory, anyway; the afterlife didn’t make mistakes like that.

  What had I been thinking? I was at the funeral. I stared at her cold, dead corpse for a full hour, waiting for some signs of life.

  I’d even gone back to the cemetery on three separate occasions, just to make sure she was still buried there.

  She was.

  A commotion to my right jostled me out of those dark thoughts. An enormous woman was hauling her screaming kid to the restroom. He was no older than two and his face was beet-red, twisted into something gnarly that once resembled a human. But for some reason, I wished he was mine. I wanted to coddle him and tell him it was going to be okay because Daddy was there.

  Instead, I slammed into someone because I wasn’t watching where I was walking. And when I looked up, I almost croaked—for real.

  His whole body was like a pillar made of solid steel. I remembered that our eyes met as we were the same height, but somehow it felt as though I was cowering in his presence. What was Mr. Carter doing at the Phoenix airport?

  It was a small world, after all—no puns, I swear.

  “Mr....Carter...?” I stuttered. He narrowed those steely blue eyes at me.

  “Martin.” My name was so definitive when he said it. “I’m not your teacher anymore. You can call me Kevin.”

  Okay, that made me feel a little better.

  The tension in my neck and shoulders released some.