by Brindi Quinn
Furniture no longer dangles on bungees from the ceiling. The couch is missing, too. All that remains is one cushion in the center of the room, upon which a certain white-haired reaper is sitting, clinging his knees to his chest.
Guilt, true and fierce, takes hold of my gut, wrapping around and around me like a cobra. . . . Or are those pythons?
Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Minx looks totally dejected. Like the only person not invited to the party.
Well, duh. What’d I expect? Pine and I basically blew him off to go island-hopping all day!
“Mar-mar?” Minx looks up at me with obvious pining. “You were gone a long time.” He extends his arms. “Come cuddle me.”
Aw. He looks . . . sweet. It makes my heartstrings pluck.
“Get up,” Pine orders.
In a flash, Minx’s face contorts into a scowl. So much for sweet!
“Up,” Pine says again. “I’m giving her to you for a while. I need call HQ, so take her somewhere. Somewhere safe.”
Minx perks up. He jumps to his feet and reaches for me with an expression of tenderness, but Pine steps between us. “I’m warning you, dumbass. Stick to your role.”
With a glare of death, Minx motions to the room. “Judging by the dwelling, you had plenty of fun while you were gone,” he says. “I’m sure I won’t do anything you haven’t already done to her.”
Well, that’s pretty rude. Talking about me like I’m not even here! Not to mention making it sound like I’ve been up to something ultra risqué!
Pine turns to me and puts his hands on my wet shoulders. “Be careful, Marley.” Then, he throws on his hoodie, not bothering to zip it, and begins drawing strange shapes on the window with his thumb.
Quick as a shot of tequila, Minx sets about throwing up his hood and conjuring a door in the window opposite of Pine. In the midst of everything, I stand there, clinging my dripping dress, while Pine makes his window glow with green nonsense symbols, and Minx makes a doorframe glow blue on the other end of the room.
Everything since my kiss with Pine has been a mad, rash dash. SLOW down, people! Let me catch up!
But both of the reapers are frantic – Pine apparently due to an extreme sudden need to find out what’s wrong with him . . . or me . . . or our kiss. Minx, on the other hand, just looks starved for attention.
“Come on, Mar-mar,” he says with lust in his red eyes, as he takes both of my hands and pulls me through his newly formed door. At the last moment, though, I turn for one last look of Pine. I feel bad for Minx. Sure, I do, but . . . I have a strong desire to stay with the dark-haired reaper. I want to tease him about his patterns and call him ‘Captain’ and watch him with that worried look on his face and feel him savoring the taste of my tongue. I . . . I don’t really know why.
And as I turn to look at him, I notice that he has also turned to look at me, chewing his lip in a thoughtful way.
He disappears from sight as Minx gives me an extra aggressive heave through the door.
We land in a sea of blankets.
Literally, as far as the eye can see, blankets cover the world, rising and falling the way waves would.
Minx shoves me from behind, and I topple, landing in softness. The sky overhead glows orange with sunset, though no sun’s around, as far as I can tell. Is it just me, or are these locations getting more and more unrealistic?
Minx dives into the blankets beside me and begins forming a mound.
“Minx?” His eyes flash. “Who’s Pine calling?”
Minx sets his eyes dangerously on mine. “Don’t talk about him.” Whoa! I’d even go so far as to say there’s bloodlust in them for a moment. Luckily, the bloodlust is quick to dissolve, and is replaced by that careful uncertainty I’ve seen him sport so many times before. “Sleep with me, Marley Craw. I’ll dry you off.”
He wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me backwards with him against the newly formed mound, so that I’m situated between his legs, leaning back against his chest, with his warmth pressed into mine. He keeps his arms firmly around me, and even goes so far as to hold me in place with his knees.
“Now then–” he whispers, “Let’s start,” and my body is instantly overtaken with his sleepy, intoxicating power. If Pine is a drug, Minx is a different kind of drug. He takes me far away, fading, until I’m on the edge of dream. Only then, does his hold on me loosen.
This whole death thing is starting to get a little muddled. I feel like it’s back and forth, back and forth, between being completely exhilarated to totally subdued.
I barely remember what it’s like to have a normal heart rate.
“You like it here,” Minx’s voice in my head says.
“Yes,” my mouth murmurs.
“You’ll sleep here forever.” His voice is soothing. Like steam from the shower, or the first sip of a latte.
But still.
Sleep? . . . Forever?
A person can’t really sleep forever, can they? Rip Van Winkle style? If I sleep forever, here with Minx, then what about Pine? I . . . like Pine . . . I think.
“Minx?” I ask.
“Mm.”
“Is there something wrong with me?”
“No,” says his voice.
“Are you sure? I’m really confused about what’s going on. I thought I’d kind of figured it out, but then Pine was acting all weird, and now I have no idea what the goal of your guys’ game is anymore. Plus, there’s this tick at the back of my skull, like an annoying dull pain that won’t go away, and every time I start to feel comfortable, it pangs me. You know, like when you’re out in the sun too long, and then you get a headache, but it’s kind of a back-of-the-brain ache, which is more of an annoyance than anything all that painful. You know? Kind of? Or maybe you don’t get out much. You’re pretty pale, now that I think about it.”
Minx jerks.
He’s silent for a second.
Another second.
A third second.
Uh-oh. Not good. Just how many seconds is he going to wait?! Is this because I called him pale? So sue me! It’s true, isn’t it? And besides, pale can be really sexy. Like vampires and Edgar Allan Poe and that one guy from that one screamo band.
When at last Minx answers, his voice is outside my head:
“This tick of yours, did you tell HIM about it?”
“Yeah, but he just told me to ignore it,” I answer.
Minx sets his chin on top of my head. “Typical of an Usher. It doesn’t affect him, so he chooses to ignore it. Contrariwise, it poses a big problem for me. I probably won’t be able to have you unless it’s fixed . . .” His words trail away.
Fixed? Wonderful, so I’m broken.
“If someone doesn’t satisfy your tick, Marley Craw, you won’t be able to rest.”
Oh. Is that it?
I’m a spirit and the tick won’t let me rest? As in, rest in peace?
Minx spins me around so that I’m facing him. His eyebrows dip. “I told you before, your soul is screaming. You can’t hear it, but I can. Your tick is probably an echo of it.”
Right my screaming soul. Because that sounds healthy.
“It isn’t your fault, Marley,” he adds with sympathy. “If it were up to me, I would help you.” I feel his fingers begin to tremble. “I would.”
This looks like an opening if I’ve ever seen one.
“Well then, let’s fix it,” I say, pounding my fist into my palm with umph. “Okay? Let’s fix it, and once it’s gone, we can get on with this reaping stuff, right?” Maybe during that time, I can even forget about stupid Pine and his stupidly confusing actions. “What do you say, Minx?”
At the suggestion, something in Minx snaps. Eyes aglow, the corner of his mouth gives an unstable twitch. “You’re doing it again,” he says, voice oddly light.
“Doing what?” I ask.
His teeth clench dangerously. “Tempting me. Please stop. I told you I’m on parole.”
“So you won’t help me fix it?�
�� Gag. “Then why are we even talking about this!?” I take out my annoyance on the blankets at my feet, shuffling them around until I’m satisfied that they’re at least a little messier than when we got here.
Minx leans over and bites my earlobe.
“I’ll think about it,” he coos, seductively enough to send a shoot of warmth up my spine. “But first–” he says, teeth nipping my ear. “Cuddle me, Mar-mar!”
With that, the soothing, sometimes-naughty reaper uses his full weight to tackle me into the blanket sea. Reap on, reaper. Reap on.
. . .
. . . . . .
. . . . . . . . .
After either a very, very long or a very, very brief cuddle, sleepy Minx and I return to the glass room.
Per usual, it’s changed.
The floor is filled in, and so is one of the walls. A few piles of cushions have returned, scattered about the room, plush and inviting. Not all of the hanging furniture is back, but a few smaller pieces dangle on their bungees. A dresser, a nightstand . . .
My heart gives a hop to see that Pine is once again staring out the window.
Only . . . that isn’t Pine.
I know it the millisecond I see him.
There’s someone else at Pine’s usual place, staring out at the moon. Someone with a short-sleeved nether-hoodie and ripped jeans. His arms are wrapped in leather bands.
Accessorize much?
Because I haven’t seen anyone but Minx and Pine lately, the sight’s as shocking as if I were looking at a something horrific – like one of those shows about strange addictions where people eat cotton balls and sleep with their curling irons.
The stranger doesn’t really deserve that, though. From the back, there’s nothing horrific about him as far as I can tell. When he hears us enter, he glances over his shoulder with a smile. Sly, even from where I stand. “You’re back,” he says in a quiet voice. “Did you have restful time?”
“Who are you?” I ask blankly. “Where’s Pine?”
The stranger lets down his hood, releasing with it jet-black hair. Out it comes like a silky waterfall, dropping over his shoulders and to the middle of his back. It shines, inky like the sky. Mesmerizing, almost. He pushes it from his face and tips his head back smugly. “What do you mean, Marley Craw? I’m your reaper, of course. Don’t you remember?”
No, I don’t ‘remember.’ I’ve never seen this dude before in my life! . . . Er, death. The stranger’s eyes are pale green. Olive, I guess. And on the end of one of his eyebrows, there’s a glimmer caught by the moonlight. A piercing? The zipper of his short-sleeved sweatshirt hangs open loosely, revealing a black t-shirt with white writing in a language I don’t recognize.
He’s got kind of a grunge look going on.
Guess reapers come in all kinds.
Even Bandus garagio.
“I’ve never seen you before,” I say.
“Sure you have,” the stranger insists. “Let me hold you, Marley Craw. Then you’ll remember how I make you feel, I’d bet.”
“Just Marley’s fine,” I say absently as I back against Minx. “Do you know this guy? One of your coworkers, perhaps?” But turning to Minx, I find that he’s smiling a wide, cat’s grin. He looks like a dweeby kid on Christmas morning. “Yeah, Mar-mar. Don’t you remember him?”
Liar!
“Uh, noo.” I look from Minx to the newcomer, and back to Minx. “What is this? Another part of the game? Great, just when I was starting to get a grasp on things.”
SO NOT COOL.
“Just drop it, guys, would you?” I say, folding my arms into myself. “We all know I’ve never met Mr. Locks-of-Love before, so you can just save yourselves the trouble and cut the crap, okay?” My chest makes a strange squeezing movement. “Where did Pine go?” I ask.
“Who?” says the stranger.
“PINE, my reaper.” Ouch. Saying his name hurts a little bit. Could it be that I miss him?
Miss.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure I miss him.
The stranger shakes his head, and along with it, his raven hair catches in the moonlight. “Darling Marley, WE are your reapers.”
“NO,” I correct, “Minx is my reaper. Pine is my reaper. You’re just some stranger.” I give Minx a nudge in the ribs with my elbow. “Tell him, Minx, or so help me I’ll never cuddle you again!”
Minx flinches.
Aha! Gotcha!
“I-if you’re unsure,” Minx says, voice faltering, “why not check your calling card?”
“My card?” The red card from Beck. “I lost it,” I say. “I left it in the pocket of my pants on the beach.”
“Are you sure?” Minx points to the waist of my dress where a small pocket has appeared.
That DEFINITELY wasn’t there before! These two are using nether-powers on me, and I don’t appreciate it one bit! Growl. Two can play at that game. With venom, I shoot my hand into the pocket and pull out a red slip of paper.
~ Beck Lemmings ~
Angel in Accounting
Reachable at #99-840
I turn it over.
Case #887PR2E
Marley Craw
Undeclared, Score 402
Suitable Reapers: #2287, Minx & #1997, Zae
Zae? What the hell kind of a name is ZAE?
Now, I’m a reasonable girl. Downright down-to-earth if you ask me. I can tell when I’m being swindled. There was this one time when I was contacted by this stranded African prince about loaning him x amount of dollars so that he could take a boat to his kingdom, after which time I’d be ‘rewarded handsomely,’ and I could tell stat that it wasn’t legit. The guy didn’t even have a princely-sounding email address! You’d at least expect it to be, like, Charming0492 or something, but I’m pretty sure it had the word ‘boner’ in it.
Anyway, it was a deliberate attempt at swindlery.
Yeah, kind of like now.
“So what?” I cry. “You planted it there, just like you planted the pocket!”
That’s when it hits me.
Ohmigosh.
This is SO body snatcher! This is SO government conspiracy! This is a total cover up! Are they attempting to . . . erase Pine? And trying to replace him with this ZAE guy?
From deep inside me I feel a pain, a worry, an anxious panic.
What if I never seen Pine again?
That can’t happen because I think I really like him a lot. My pulse starts up. “I see what this is,” I say. “He left, did he? My kiss was that upsetting, was it?! Well, you can just tell him to man up and face me like a . . . like a man! . . .” I give off a gasp because something just occurred to me: “OR was he forced to go away? If that’s the case, he didn’t do anything wrong! All I said was that I liked him, which yeah, was probably a little reckless because I only just met the guy, but still, you can’t fault him for something I did! Either way, you should get him back here so that we can sort this out properly, don’t you think?”
Neither Minx nor so-called Zae say anything. Zae takes a step towards me.
“No. Nuh-uh, you stay back there, Mr. Body Snatcher!” I slip safely behind Minx until I remember just how infuriated I am with the lying reaper. With nowhere else to run, I inch along the side of the wall until I’m pressed against the corner farthest from the longhaired stranger.
Zae sticks his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “You do it,” he says to Minx.
Minx gives off a somber nod, then, with his eyes set on me, he approaches.
“Minx?”
His eyes flash.
“MINX! Knock it off RIGHT now or I’ll never forgive you!”
But to the threat, his eyes only flash brighter. The next thing I know, he’s over me, in an instant or less, and his soothing, calming, subduing arms are around me, melting my throbbing worry.
“It’s okay, Mar-mar,” he whispers. “This way we can start over. Forget about him. Now you can focus on me. Now, I can help you.”
Forget about who, again?
I can’t remember,
since Minx’s aura is pressing into me deeper than ever before, taking over every inch of space in my body and every single thought in my mind. This time, I drift nearer to sleep than I ever have before under his influence. Distantly, I feel Minx holding me. Vaguely, I’m aware of two voices talking.
“There was a complication,” a quiet voice says.
“Can’t say I’m disappointed,” says another, more familiar voice. . . . Oh right, that’s Minx, my oppressor.
“I’d bet not,” says the first voice. “You were on the brink of losing.”
“Think she’ll forget him?” says Minx.
“She will . . . eventually.”
“What do we do now? Are they extending her judgment?” Minx asks.
“No, and we’ve been instructed to do our best. Otherwise this’ll turn into an even bigger mess than it already is.” The quiet voice sighs. “I’ve heard of things like this happening, but he was a captain. My captain.”
“Even Ushers can crack, huh?” says Minx.
“Surprising,” the quiet voice retorts. “We all thought it would be you.”
Minx sniffs.
“Just because he’s gone, don’t think I’ll let you get away with whatever you want, by the way.”
Minx laughs softly. “Yes, but you, unlike that guy, aren’t in a position to pass judgment. I’ve witnessed some of your missteps. You’ll think twice about reporting me.”
“Heh. I can’t believe they still let you out.”
The quiet voice falls silent. Minx falls silent. Everything falls silent.
I drift deeper.
Chapter 10: This Is SO Body Snatcher
I wake with my head on Minx’s chest.
The sun shines brightly through the ceiling window with happy sunny morning rays.