Death Wish

by Brooks, Harper A.

  Nope, no halo here.

  “Because of my mistakes, I got a coworker in trouble.” Was that vague enough? Kay didn’t look confused, so I went on. “If I mess up one more time, he will be reloosed.”

  I hesitated, hearing the strange distortion to the last word. I had been censored.

  Kay’s brows knitted together in confusion.

  “Really?” I threw my hands in the air and glanced around the room. “Reloosed? I can’t even say reloosed?”

  The censor skewed the word every time I said it, and I cursed. Apparently, Released was revealing too much information.

  I shook my head. “Never mind. It’s not that important.” Just freaking annoying.

  Kay smiled. “I’m guessing that whatever that is, it isn’t good?”

  I nodded.

  “Does visiting me count as a mistake?” she asked.

  I hadn’t considered that. I visited Kay whenever I could and hadn’t been reprimanded for it.

  Not yet anyway.

  Suddenly nervous, I moved toward the shop door. Should I leave? Had I really been that stupid to endanger Simon so quickly after Azrael’s threat? With all the rules and restrictions on reapers interacting with the living during their job, like with Dillion, interacting with Kay was probably pushing some kind of boundary I shouldn’t be pushing.

  “Do you need to go?”

  “I think so.”

  “Will you be able to come back?”

  Honestly, I didn’t know the answer to that. But I didn’t want to worry her, so I forced a smile and said, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I just need to figure out some things, and I’ll be back.”

  She didn’t say anything. It didn’t look like she was buying my story either.

  “If any more haunts bother you while I’m gone, you have my permission to use my name as a threat. Oh, and ask Laurence about the location spell. We’ll set something up next time I stop in.”

  “Okay,” she replied meekly. “I will.”

  “This isn’t goodbye,” I told her, trying to convince myself of it as well. “I’ll come by again.”

  She gave me a small wave, uncertainty tugging her lips into a frown.

  As much as I wanted to stay, I glided through the shop door, hoping with everything inside me that I hadn’t just lied to my friend and was, in fact, coming back soon.

  Days passed and I hadn’t gone back to Kay’s shop.

  Why? Because I was scared. I can admit it. Azrael’s threat was a constant throb in the back of my head, and I couldn’t do something to hurt Simon. I couldn’t do it to anyone. Like a good girl, I had concentrated on doing my job only and caused as little commotion as possible. So, you can imagine when my tablet’s green light began blinking rapidly as I left my apartment that evening and Azrael’s face came on my screen, my stomach plummeted to my boots.

  “Jade.”

  What scared me the most was he wasn’t wearing his famous predatory smile this time. His expression was hard and all seriousness.

  I tried my best to not show my worry, but I was replaying every assignment I’d completed in the last few days, wondering where I had slipped up. Swallowing hard, I pushed the panic zooming around my insides from creeping into my voice.

  “What’s up, Azrael?”

  “I wanted to deliver your next assignment personally,” he said. “Well, in a way.” Still no smile from him. Not even a hint.

  His words, though, were surprising. I wasn’t in trouble?

  It had to be pretty bad if that was my first thought every time I saw him.

  “Oh?” I glanced up and down the sidewalk on Primrose Street, a few blocks down from Kay’s in the living world. I had been given the choice on where to live, so of course I’d chosen Fairport right next to the harbor. The closeness to my friend only made not being able to see her even harder. There was guilt there, too. I had promised her I’d come back, after all.

  “Since you’ve been on track these last few days and since you’re in the area, I am taking a leap and giving you a bigger assignment. Something you haven’t done before.”

  Uh-oh. Was that supposed to be a compliment? Because it sure as hell didn’t sound like one. It sounded more like he was trying to push me harder, see if I’d slip up again and cause Simon’s Release.

  I sucked in a deep breath. I could do it. I had to. For Simon’s sake. He deserved better from me.

  And there was the small matter of my pride. I also didn’t want to give Azrael the satisfaction of seeing me fail again. I’d prove him wrong.

  As long as it wasn’t another young kid, I’d be fine. Maybe I should tell Azrael that, but something told me he wouldn’t see it the same way I did. He might even assign me to a child’s death on purpose just to prove a point.

  “I am sending the details to you now.” He fixed me with a piercing look. “Get it done.”

  Then, he was gone. A detailed profile replaced his face.

  Cole Robert Masters. Age thirty. Half-demon.

  I froze. Woah. A half-demon? That was way out of my pay grade. I wasn’t ready for a supernatural that strong.

  Was I?

  Azrael obviously thought I was. I should be flattered, and part of me was. But uncertainty reared its ugly head. Normally, Simon handled the big jobs like this. He had the experience and the skills. I was still new. And if I messed this up…

  Pushing the thought from my mind, I focused on that small, fleeting bit of confidence I had left. I gripped it and held on tight. This could be my chance to prove myself—to everyone. Including myself.

  My past mistakes told me to read the profile before arriving on scene. Cole Masters was a half-demon. I didn’t know much about the race, expect that there weren’t many around because demons—just like haunts—could only cross into the living world during one of the solstices, when the veil was thin enough. They possessed men and slept with unsuspecting females to produce offspring. The babies who survived were cursed with a deadly fire power.

  That’s all I knew, but those were the most important parts, right?

  Stay away from his fire hands. Got it.

  I read the rest of his bio, but didn’t find out much. It seemed a little vague, stating he lived alone most of his life and had been involved in many “underground deals.” Whatever that meant. What I did think was odd was that there was no picture attached to the profile. Azrael always added a photo of the assignment. It made finding the person easier. But for some reason, he hadn’t done it this time.

  This definitely had to be a test.

  When I thought I had gotten all the information I could out of his profile, I looked at the location typed across the bottom in bold letters. Between forty-five and forty-six Quincy Street, Fairport, Virginia. On the side street of Oh! Kay’s Pastries.

  Hurrying over to the front of my apartment building, I ripped the piece of chalk from my jean pocket and drew a spirit door on the bricks. My heart was beating a little too fast—especially for no longer pumping, but it was anxiety circulating throughout my veins this time, not blood. The second the symbols glowed orange, I hopped through to the other side.

  In the living world, the rain came down in droves, a terrible storm beating against the old city’s harbor. Wind whipped through the narrow streets and caused the waves to crash against the dock, flooding the walking paths and touristy areas. Even the lamps lining the road rattled with the gusts.

  The rain couldn’t touch me, but I wrapped my arms around myself anyway, still able to feel the chill and dampness in the air. Every so often, when the wind would gush, my hair would be tossed about, the elements temporarily breaking the plane.

  It was weird how some things transferred between worlds and some things didn’t.

  Hurrying across downtown, I navigated with ease, and quickly came to Quincy Street. Oh! Kay’s and a multifunctioning office building were the largest structures on the street, and between them stretched a small alleyway meant for deliveries, a quick fire escape, if needed, and storing ga
rbage cans.

  Kay’s shop had the shades drawn and appeared closed, which was odd. Kay was normally open at this time. Maybe she had taken the day off? God, I hoped so. She didn’t need to be around with a half-demon in the neighborhood.

  I peered into the alley between her shop and the office. A shadowy figure lay on the ground next to a few turned-over trash cans. Cautiously, I crept closer.

  Besides the spilled garbage everywhere, my assignment, Cole Masters, was sprawled out facedown covered in mud and God knows what else. The relentless rain soaked every bit of him but did little to wash away the stomach-turning stench of urine and rotting waste radiating from the small alley.

  I glanced around. We were completely alone.

  So, what was his cause of death?

  I studied the profile again. It read Head trauma. Blunt force object. Fight.

  Staring down at Cole’s unmoving body again, I figured that made sense. There seemed to have been a scuffle of some kind with the mess left behind. Maybe his opponent had run off in fear of being caught by the police? Wouldn’t be the first time.

  Who was strong enough to take down a half-demon? Nothing was on fire, but with the storm, any remaining flames surely would have been extinguished by now.

  Squatting beside him, I squinted against the darkness in search for blood. There were puddles all around but no obvious crimson coloring nearby. Not even on his clothing or jacket. He faced away from me, so if there was an impact wound, I couldn’t see it.

  The slight rise and fall of his back told me he was still breathing, but that was the only movement coming from him. Most likely unconscious. That would be the way to go, wouldn’t it? While sleeping? Blissfully unaware.

  A car passed, its headlights illuminating the alley briefly but enough to reflect against something silver near the opposite end of the lane. Small in size with a distinct L-shape to it.

  A gun.

  Cole’s or his assailant’s?

  The profile hadn’t mentioned anything about a gunshot wound.

  Leaning over his body, I finally got a good look at his face.

  I knew him.

  Not personally. We’d crossed paths before on a few other of my assignments as the one who had murdered the men I had been ordered to reap. Not only was Cole Masters a half-demon, but he was a gun-for-hire. He killed people for a living. All kinds. Both human and supernatural. The gun suddenly fit into this scenario perfectly.

  Oh man. I was in way over my head with this one.

  Had one of his hits gone south? From the kills I had come across, Cole was a master at his job. He was neat and usually masked his kills as an accident or suicide, making sure not to leave any evidence to connect the job back to him.

  But what had gone wrong this time?

  I shouldn’t be asking questions. That was what had landed me in a mess last time with Tristen. I needed to just carry out my assignment and not worry about anything else. No second-guessing. No meddling where I didn’t belong. Azrael and Simon were counting on me to carry this out, and that was what I was going to do.

  Readjusting myself, I crouched next to Cole’s body again, pulled off one of my gloves, and reached to touch the side of his face. In that moment, his eyes flew open, brilliant blue orbs taken over by dilated pupils. I gasped, jerking back, and fell onto my butt hard.

  Cole scrambled to his feet faster than a man should, especially a man who was hurt and had just been unconscious. His head whipped toward me, and his wild gaze roamed over my face, seeing me—really seeing me.

  Too stunned to speak, I recoiled and jumped up onto wobbly legs. Cole’s eyes followed me the entire time, and my heart banged against my rib cage, mimicking the living function. How could he see me? His profile hadn’t said he was a Medium, too. He shouldn’t be able to make contact with spirits.

  More importantly, wasn’t he supposed to be close to death?

  “Who are you?” he rasped, confirming my fears.

  I blinked, and in that split second, he was holding a gun in his hand and had it aimed at me.

  His voice rose as panic set in. “Tell me who you are!”

  I held my hands up in surrender. “Woah there. Easy now. No need to get gun-happy.”

  A gunshot boomed against the silence, and I winced. As expected, the bullet flew right through my form and bounced off the wall somewhere behind me before skittering across the ground. I didn’t feel a thing.

  “Cole? Cole Masters?” I talked fast, hoping to gain his attention before he shot at me again. “My name is Jade, and I’m here to help you cross over.”

  He wasn’t listening. He reached into the back of his jeans, flicked the side of the gun open, and swapped out the bullets. I kept talking.

  “That’s not going to work on me,” I said as he aimed at me again. “If you let me explain—”

  Another booming shot, but this time, the bullet ripped through my right shoulder. White-hot pain unlike anything I had ever felt before exploded. The shock of it sent me reeling back and cursing. My hand flew to the wound, and to my horror, there was a hole the size of a quarter blown through my flesh above my collarbone. Black smoke emitted from it.

  Impossible.

  The pain ricocheting up and down my arm said otherwise. Undeniably real. The tears welling in my eyes only proved it more.

  I didn’t have time to contemplate what was really going on. Cole was already reloading his gun. I didn’t know how he was able to shoot me, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him do it again. Talking wasn’t working. Cole was more of a shoot-first, think-later type of guy obviously, so I had to come up with a different way to beat him.

  Azrael was going to get an earful from me again about giving reapers some kind of weapon to aid in tough cases. There was no way for me to beat him. I couldn’t get close enough to touch him with his trigger finger.

  A woman’s scream tore through the silence, making both of us turn. It was coming from my right, in the shop next to us.

  Fear seized me, and I instantly forgot the danger staring me in the face.

  The pastry shop. Kay. She was in trouble.

  No longer caring about Cole and his magic gun, I sprinted past him to the front entrance. He didn’t shoot at me, and even if he would have, I didn’t care. Something was wrong. The sounds of commotion rang from inside, tables falling over, things being thrown. The shop was dark, but shadows moved inside. I passed through the door to find Kay on the floor, crawling backwards as a man lumbered toward her.

  Nearly six feet, shaved head, glasses, wearing one of his typical geek-inspired “Wizard in Training” T-shirts from the Harry Potter movies, it was Kay’s boyfriend, Laurence’s, everyday look of choice. But something wasn’t right with him. His posture was all wrong. Not laid back with a slight slouch. His body was rigid, as if every muscle was tight and struggling to move. Veins bulged from his neck, and his lip curled up slightly.

  Was that a snarl I heard?

  Kay screamed again, terror fixed on her face.

  When Laurence took another menacing step forward, I called his name, forgetting he couldn’t hear me. Kay did, though. Her head whipped toward me, and her eyes widened even more.

  “Jade! It’s not him!” she shrieked. “It’s not Laurence! I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t him!”

  To my horror, Laurence’s head swiveled my way, his gaze finding me.

  Kay was right. His face morphed before my eyes into a hideous creature with fangs, sunken cheeks, grey skin, and a thick, protruding brow. His eyes were the most jarring—they were an unnaturally brilliant shade of red. I blinked, and the grotesque mask disappeared. Laurence was glowering at me once again, looking as I knew him.

  What the fuck is that?

  I rushed over to Kay’s side.

  “This doesn’t involve you, reaper,” the thing mimicking Laurence growled. The voice coming from his lips sounded nothing like his usual calming baritone. More guttural with a thick accent I couldn’t place. “Leave us.”
>
  This was definitely not Laurence.

  Suddenly, the glass door behind me exploded, sending shards of glass everywhere. Kay screamed again as Cole pushed through. His eyes locked on Laurence, and he held out his gun again.

  “Xaver,” Cole barked at him.

  He hissed back. Hissed.

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

  Laurence swiped at the air in warning, like an animal might with another encroaching predator.

  A gunshot rang out, but in a blur of speed, Laurence had leapt onto the counter. Cole’s bullet missed. When Laurence snarled again, the hideous face was back with a purplish tongue slithering out. More shots but Laurence bounced from the counter to the display case to the floor to one of the small customer tables. He moved so fast, he appeared to be little more than a blur of color and speed. Cole kept trying to shoot him, but his bullets weren’t landing.

  I glanced around for something I could use to help then cursed. I couldn’t grab anything on this plane. There was a table behind us, and I ushered Kay behind it to keep her hidden from the beast.

  “Stay here,” I whispered to her. “Don’t move.”

  She nodded frantically. I didn’t need to tell her twice.

  Fingers dug into my wounded shoulder, and I yelled as fresh pain shot through every nerve. Another animalistic sound before I was thrown across the room and then slid on the tile. A round of clicks sounded and then a string of angry curses. Cole was out of bullets.

  Kay’s screams filled my ears as the creature leaned forward, his hand reaching for her. She kicked and clawed at him. I scrambled to my feet and ran at him, then quickly slapped my ungloved hand against the exposed skin on his upper arm. There was a bright white light and a strange sizzling sound. The smell of burned flesh and singed hair hit my nose, making my stomach roil.

  Laurence bellowed. As the light consumed the room, blinding me, I felt him jerk away. The loss of contact extinguished the light.

  Immediately, a sharp pain spiked through my temples, and my world swayed. I locked my knees to prevent myself from spilling over.