Reaper Reborn

by Kel Carpenter

  Gretel had given me a deadline. I’d already lost valuable time sleeping, and the only person who could help me figure out what was going on was the girl in the room across the hall.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Graves asked as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

  I stood with a low groan, my body cracking and popping as I stretched my arms over my head. “Duty calls,” I said, looking back over my shoulder at him.

  I shouldn’t have done it. He was even more tempting than usual, all splayed out on my bed with his hair rumpled with sleep, wearing the sweats he’d borrowed from Shep riding low on his hips.

  “Fuck my life,” I groaned, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. Now that I knew just how good it was between us, it was almost impossible to ignore the need clawing at me. I wanted to climb back in that bed and ride him until we both passed out from an overdose of orgasms, but that was not in the cards.

  Why did it feel like that was never in the cards?

  I was staging an official protest.

  Turning from him, I stomped toward the door, well aware it probably looked like I was throwing a tantrum. Inside, I definitely was.

  Graves’ low chuckle told me that he knew it too. The bastard.

  But I was basically the reaper version of Batman, and the bat signal was definitely flashing. I couldn’t afford to be selfish right now.

  “Go put some clothes on or something, I’ll find you later,” I mutter.

  “Salem, I’m already wearing—”

  I shut the door on his words and faced off with the door across the hall.

  Taking a deep breath, I knocked once and pushed it open.

  7

  Abomination

  The room was dark, but the windows were open. Thana lay, staring at the ceiling. In the moonlight, I could see her face clearly. Her expression was blank. Devoid of any emotion.

  “I’d wondered which would win out. Your lust for sex or your lust for answers. It seems that the more things change, the more they stay the same.” Her words were soft. Spoken in a quiet, almost nostalgic way.

  “We need to talk,” I said, closing the door behind me. I went to stand over the bed, crossing my arms over my chest. “What was that back there?”

  “A warning,” Thana answered. I got the impression she was only half paying attention.

  “No shit, Sherlock,” I snapped.

  She snorted. “An ultimatum?” she tried again, her lips curling up even as she did her best to keep her face straight.

  “Do you think this is funny?” There was more bite in my tone that time, and the amusement in her features shriveled, turning cold.

  “No, but you of all people should understand that humor is easier to handle than sorrow.”

  I frowned, letting my arms drop to my sides as I sat down on the corner of the bed. “Sorrow? Thana, I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

  She sat up suddenly. “Because it’s complicated. Sitting here in your brother’s room, I know that as soon as I tell you the truth, you’ll betray me.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice going soft to mimic her own.

  She smiled bitterly. “The monster, Salem. I’m talking about the monster.”

  “I’m trying to understand,” I said, “but you’re speaking in circles—”

  “We created the monster, you and I,” she said suddenly, as if I hadn’t spoken. “At least, in a sense.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight. My heart began to pound.

  “What is the abomination?” I asked, my voice little more than a hushed whisper.

  Thana tilted her head back and smiled. “I’d hoped we had more time. That I could bond with you this go around. But it seems that Death won’t even allow us that.”

  “What is the abomination, Thana?”

  “I am.”

  I blinked. My mouth opening and then closing again. This was all so confusing. Fortunately for me, Thana decided to share.

  “Four hundred years ago, you ripped your soul in half. Being a Daughter of Death, neither you nor your soul can die. On the contrary, it heals—and that’s exactly what happened. You tore yourself in half and both sides healed. One retained your thoughts and memories and basically everything that made you, well, you. The other became me.”

  “But you said you’re my twin . . .”

  “Because I might as well be. What are identical twins but an egg and sperm that split into two? You and I shared a soul, Salem. It’s not all that different.”

  Her logic wasn’t completely flawed there. I could see how she equated it.

  “You lied to me,” I said.

  “Because you’re not ready for the truth. You barely know how to use your powers and now Death is back and knocking on our door. I wanted time with you. To teach you. To get to know you. I didn’t want to jump right into this.”

  “Unfortunately, we don’t always get what we want.”

  She let out a harsh laugh. “Don’t I know it.”

  “Just tell me what’s going on,” I said, tired of the mind games I’d been playing ever since returning home. “I deserve to know the whole truth.”

  Out of nowhere, Thana stood up and began pacing.

  “You were bored. Lonely. After eons of existing apart from the humans and their world, you wanted a friend. A true companion that could also live forever. You created me, and together we ran Earth . . . for a while. Turns out Death wasn’t all that fond about its daughters taking their lives into their own hands. It came to us, demanding that you destroy me. Instead, we destroyed it. At least we thought we did. It should have been obvious we were only granted a temporary reprieve, I mean, if you and I couldn’t truly die, how could we believe we’d defeated Death?”

  My heart quickened. She could not seriously be telling me—

  “The monster is Death.”

  Okay, that’s exactly what she’s telling me.

  “We tore it apart, but the soul doesn’t die. Just like with us, it heals, and Death comes back with a vengeance. Death always comes back.”

  “What does he want?” I asked.

  Thana shrugged one delicate shoulder. “The same thing Death has always wanted; me to be destroyed.”

  “But why?” I asked, feeling like I was missing something.

  “Because I am ‘the abomination’.” She used air quotes, and the sourness in her voice spoke to how difficult this was for her. “I shouldn’t exist because Death didn’t create me. You did, and therefore, I should be removed. Together we are stronger than even it, but apart . . . well, this is one of many lives you’ve lived at this point. You get the idea.”

  “Why do you keep referring to him as an it?”

  “Because Death is neither male nor female. Every life it comes back with a different face. A different fake identity. It’s a clever bastard. Unlike you, who loses your memories—somehow it has found a way to retain them.”

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “So how do we defeat it?”

  Thana paused in her pacing and looked up. “You want to fight?”

  “I didn’t say that,” I started. “I just want all the information first.”

  “Death can control ghosts. So now we have the message it sent. First, we have to find out who it is in this life. I was sure that it hadn’t reached you yet, which means it’s probably hiding among the reapers. Once we find out who it is, we rip it apart.”

  “You just said that it comes back—”

  “After a time. Ripping its soul apart would buy us years before it came back if we do it right,” she said in a detached manner. Her lack of emotions was jarring in a way. To hear the words come from my mouth, to see the cold look in my own eyes. She and I were the same . . . and yet not.

  A shiver ran through me.

  “What do you mean ‘do it right’?” I asked softly.

  “Not a chance,” she replied. “You don’t trust me, and you haven’t made up your mind about wh
at to do. I’m not telling you the only way to put an immortal down.”

  “I wouldn’t—”

  “Kill me?” she asked. Thana smiled, but it wasn’t happy. Pain filled her expression then. “You’ve tried to before. I didn’t think it was possible . . . yet here we are again. I don’t want to lose you this time, or my own life, so forgive me if I leave out a few things.”

  I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t fault her decision either.

  “So where do we go from here?” I asked.

  “That’s entirely up to you,” Thana said. “The ghost gave you a week. That’s how long you have to figure out how to kill me or to come to grips with the fact that everyone you love is going to die, beside me.”

  “Unless we shred Death.”

  Thana nodded.

  I’d been in some pretty shitty situations before, but nothing like this.

  My options were to try to kill Thana, which I couldn’t imagine would work out even if I wanted to. Or I could let all my friends and family die, if the ghost’s warning was to be believed.

  Or I could kill Death.

  I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. We didn’t have a lot of time, and the clock was ticking.

  “I need to think,” I said, getting up and walking away.

  “Don’t take too long,” Thana said softly behind me.

  Leaving Shep’s room, I stepped back into the hallway and closed the door behind me. Closing my eyes, I let out one long, deep breath. Fuck. Just when I thought things were starting to get under control . . . I guess I should know better than that by now.

  Letting my eyes slowly open, I glanced at the door in front of me. The one that would take me back to my room and the sexy reaper laid out on my bed. There was a weird sort of irony about finding myself in a hallway filled with doors right now. If I believed in things like life metaphors, I’d say this was a pretty obvious one.

  I had a choice to make, and sadly, it wasn’t going to be as easy as choosing between having fun with Graves, or scavenging for emergency cupcakes in the kitchen.

  No . . . the consequences of the choices before me were much more serious. And no matter which option I chose . . . someone was going to die. It should be easy . . . right? Pick the one that saves the most people. That’s what a good person would do.

  But was I a good person?

  After what happened with James, I wasn’t really sure anymore.

  8

  The In-between

  Esme was fiddling with some kind of steampunk goggles when I stumbled into the kitchen the next morning. Graves was still in the shower, and Thana was nowhere to be seen. For the moment, I had my aunt to myself.

  “Cosplaying?” I guessed, moving toward the coffeepot.

  Esme snorted. “Even better. I finally have a reason to work on my ghost goggles.”

  “Your what?” I asked, looking up from the steaming liquid in my mug, not certain I had heard her correctly.

  “Ghost goggles. You need to be able to see the enemy if you’re going to fight it.”

  As always, she never ceased to surprise me.

  “Okay, but how are you planning to fight one when you still can’t touch them?” I asked.

  “Easy,” she said, sparing me a quick look. “You trap them.”

  Coffee bubbled out of my mouth as I started coughing. The image of my aunt as a Ghostbuster had taken root in my mind, and I couldn’t stop laughing.

  Setting her ghost-fighting equipment down, Esme walked over and slapped me hard on the back. “Easy there.”

  “I’m good,” I said, my voice still a little froggy. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”

  “You never were good at multitasking,” she said breezily, moving away from me.

  “All I was doing was sipping my coffee,” I protested.

  “While you were also trying to figure out how to trap a ghost. It was too much for you. You really should be more careful.”

  I gaped at my aunt, not sure if she was teasing me or insulting me. Knowing her, it was probably a bit of both.

  “Morning,” Graves said, joining us. He eyed Esme and her project curiously before heading over to me and grabbing a cup of his own.

  “Esme is preparing for a ghost hunt,” I informed him.

  “As one does,” Graves muttered, totally unfazed.

  I had to hand it to him, he was already a total pro when it came to Esme and her hobbies.

  “What are you two—three,” she corrected as Thana made her appearance, “up to today?”

  “We,” Graves said, gesturing to the two of us, “have that emergency Council meeting this morning. The new reps are being presented, and they’re going to revote on what to do about the werewolf.”

  I frowned. As important as that was, it paled in comparison after what happened last night. “I think I need to spend some time with Thana. She promised to teach me more about my powers. With everything going on, I’m pretty sure I’m going to need to level up some more.”

  “And by level up, you mean die?” Graves concluded.

  I shrugged. “Do you know of another way?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”

  I glanced over at Thana. My doppelgänger sighed. “Not in this case, unfortunately.”

  “There you have it.”

  Graves pressed his lips together, clearly not very happy about her response.

  “The Council meeting wasn’t a choice, Salem—”

  “We only have one week,” I replied, steel in my voice. “I don’t like it. But I need to level up fast and learn as much as I can about this monster if we’re going to—”

  “She’s the one it wants.” Esme nodded toward Thana.

  My sister blinked once, masking her surprise behind the purse of her lips. “How’d you gather that?” Thana asked.

  “I have eyes.”

  I lifted both brows. “Esme, that’s—”

  “Well done, Reaper.” Thana nodded. “At least one of you has intelligence.” She side-eyed Graves, whose jaw looked like it was soldered together at this point.

  His eyes were all on me.

  “She’s the abomination it spoke of?” he asked.

  “Well, it‘s . . . complicated.”

  “So uncomplicate it.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Look, there’s a lot going on right now, and we don’t have a lot of time—”

  “You’re making excuses,” Graves interrupted, his voice clipped.

  “Excuse me?” I snapped.

  “He’s right, you know,” Esme said, nodding along beside us.

  “Did you just”—I let out a harsh breath—“of course you did.” I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Look, the monster may want Thana, but it’s not her fault.”

  “Oh, I sincerely doubt that,” Graves said.

  “Must I remind you of your mortality—” Thana started.

  “Stop it,” I snapped. “Both of you. Graves, you’re going to the meeting. I’m staying here with Thana to learn more about my powers. Esme—”

  “I’m laying a trap for the next time our friends decide to visit,” my aunt said.

  “Alright, that’s that.”

  “I don’t know about this, Salem,” Graves started.

  “Trust me,” I said. “I need to do this.”

  We weren’t alone, but when our eyes met, it felt like we were. His seemed to glow for a moment before he nodded once.

  “This isn’t over.”

  The corner of my mouth tugged up. “I’d expect nothing less.”

  “Focus. You are nothingness. Empty. Obsolete,” Thana instructed.

  I let out an exasperated breath. “I’m trying, but it isn’t as easy as you think it is.”

  “We came from the void. It was where we were created. It is where we will always return,” she said.

  I opened my eyes to see a ghostly version of myself standing before me, with arms crossed over her chest.

  “I don’t
even know what that means.” I sighed, the tension of trying to turn myself into my ghost form draining away.

  “Death created its daughters by putting a piece of itself inside a female from each species that controlled the realm the daughter would oversee. A seed of power that blossomed into a goddess.” Thana walked around me as she spoke. “Upon birth, every mother died, taking Death’s babe with her. You were reborn in the afterworld and raised by Death. Then you were sent to the Earth once more, where for eons you were the only one of your kind. Alone.”

  Her ghostly fingers brushed over my shoulder, and I felt something as she did so.

  My shoulder tingled.

  “Until you got the idea to do the same,” Thana continued. “Except you are not Death. Not completely. You split your soul in the in-between and waited for it to heal. When it was whole once more, I was here. Just like this.” She motioned to herself, dressed in ripped skinny jeans and a graphic tee. “Not a ghost, but a god. We came from the nothingness, Salem. We can return to it.”

  I closed my eyes once more and focused on just letting go.

  I envisioned my body fading away. My soul becoming nothing.

  As a hint of despair started to fill me, I felt it. An awareness that spread through me, filling me. Recreating me. A heaviness settled inside me before lifting and giving way to weightlessness.

  I opened my eyes and the world was leached of color.

  Thana was grinning. “Welcome to the in-between, Salem.”

  “Weird,” I breathed, looking down at my body that now had the same spectral quality as hers. “So we can just come and go here whenever we want?”

  She nodded. “Think of it as a shortcut.”

  “A shortcut to what?” I asked.

  “Everything.”

  She’d lost me again.

  “I thought this was like . . .” I trailed off, not having the words. “You know . . . a place that exists separate from the real world.”