Now, if only Kane will shut up and let me work, we’ll all be fine.
The guy can’t be more than eighteen or twenty. Red hair, his white face splattered with an abundance of freckles, and he’s tall. Freakishly tall, basketball player tall, but really thin, giving his face more of a hawk-like look. The determined way he’s staring at the ground below him makes me crawl along the shingles faster. If I don’t reach him, I’ll have to come back tomorrow and try again.
“Hey, you!” I shout, knowing I can’t startle him into falling. “You there, about to jump off the roof.”
At first, he doesn’t even respond, but after a moment, he turns his head and looks at me. Blue eyes watch as I finally make the last few feet of the roofline to where he’s standing.
“Why are you still up here jumping off the roof?” I stand, my legs a little shaky.
He looks from me to the ground below him, frowning. I think I confused him.
“I’m Emma.” I inch closer. “I’m here to help you.”
“Nobody can help me.” His voice is flat, toneless, but it carries the scratchiness of the dead. It’s a sound that always slithers along my spinal cord and makes me shiver.
“Yes, I can.” I inch a little closer until I’m standing beside him, looking down at the ground. Jeez, it’s high. One good wind, and I could easily fall. Or the ghost guy could get annoyed and push me. I’m not discounting either option.
“No.” The guy shakes his head. “There is no help for me. I only have one option left.”
“To jump. I know.” I take a deep breath, steeling myself against the cold creeping into my bones. “You already did that. A long time ago.”
The ghost shakes his head, anger starting to bleed into his fathomless blue eyes. “Go away.”
“Sorry, can’t. I need you to understand you’re already dead so I don’t have to come back tomorrow. I have plans.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What’s your name?”
“Steve.” His frown deepens. “Why won’t you go away and leave me alone?”
“Because I’m a reaper, and my job is to make you understand you don’t belong here anymore. You already died, and your ghost is stuck here, repeating your death over and over every day at this exact same time.”
“You’re crazy.”
Sometimes it would be easier if I were crazy.
I turn around, my back to the ground, and ignore Kane’s warning shout from below. He’s supposed to be my trainer in all things reaping, but most days he’s yelling at me not to take so many chances. Yada, yada, yada.
Closing my eyes, I focus on the most loving memories I have. I think about warmth and joy, and before I know it, the softest glow bathes my closed eyes. There it is. Sure enough, a glowing yellow haze has appeared before us, growing until it’s an opening into the very air around us. The other side.
“See?” I toss the ghost a grin. “There’s the light. You don’t have to stay here, jumping and dying every day for an eternity. You can move on, find your family, be at peace.”
“What is that?” he whispers, taking a step closer. All ghosts inherently want to move on, but sometimes they can’t for whatever reason.
“The next life?” I make it a question, because honestly, I’m not really sure. I know he’ll be ferried through the Between, the plane between this world and the afterlife, and then be judged. I don’t tell him that little fact. I’m guessing he’s still here because he feels guilty about killing himself.
“Who are you?” He takes another tiny step closer to the light.
“I’m Emma Rose Crane.”
“I…Jason?” He squints, looking into the light. Most ghosts will see the reapers who come for them as someone important to them, usually a family member who has died. Parents, grandparents, siblings. Or sometimes childhood friends.
“Who’s Jason?” I shuffle along with him. I can’t force him to go into the light. He has to do it himself, but I can try to persuade him all I want.
“My cousin. He died when we were kids.”
Bingo. “See, Jason’s there waiting for you. He doesn’t want you hurting anymore. There’s no reason for you to keep jumping to your death.”
“What are you talking about?” He turns to face me, confusion stamped all over his face. “I would never kill myself.”
“But I’ve seen you jump from this roof every day for the last week at exactly the same time.”
“No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t. We don’t believe in that.”
This doesn’t make sense. I’ve seen him jump myself. “Then why are you up here on the roof, Steve?”
“I was thinking about stuff. It’s where I come to be alone.”
“Stuff?”
He sighs but inches closer to the light. “I want to tell my family about Mark, but I don’t know how they’ll react.”
Ohhhh, he’s afraid of telling them he’s gay. Is it possible he fell by accident? That he came up here to think and accidentally went off the roof? Makes sense, I guess.
“I promised Mark I’d tell them, but I don’t know how. My dad…he’s not going to take it well at all. He’s hardcore religious.”
“Steve.” I lay a gentle hand on him. He’s still full of energy, probably not long dead. If this was his house, his family must have moved. It’s empty now. “You don’t have to tell them anything anymore. You’re dead.”
“I’m not dead. I was just talking to my sister a few minutes ago.”
“Look around.” I sweep my hand at the empty landscape. “The house is empty, there are no cars here except for mine. No one lives here anymore. You died, and they moved on. Now it’s your turn to move on. Jason’s waiting for you. All you have to do is step into the light.”
“I’m really dead?” He shuffles closer until he’s almost touching the light. He’s not looking at it, though. His eyes are sweeping the abandoned farmhouse’s yard, listening for sounds that aren’t there anymore.
“What year is it?”
“Two thousand one.” He frowns, watching the cellar door bang against the opening in the wind. “Where is everyone?”
I pull out my driver’s license. I’d shoved it in my pocket since I refuse to carry a purse, much to Mary’s disgust. “Here, look. It’s 2018. You’ve been dead for a long, long time.”
“I…” He trails off, staring at the date on my ID, horrified.
“You’ve been reliving this moment every day since then, but you don’t have to anymore. All you have to do is step into the light and move on. People who love you are waiting for you.”
Kane pops onto the roof beside me, startling both Steve and me. I hate when he does that.
“She’s right, you know. I can take you through the light if you’re afraid.”
“I…who are you?”
“This is Kane. He’s a reaper.”
“Reaper?” Steve backs away from us, and I want to beat Kane. I almost had the kid into the light. Then Kane had to go scare the crap out of him.
“Easy, Steve.” I keep my voice calm and very Officer Dan, like when he’s trying to soothe me. “Kane is one of the good guys. It’s his job to ferry lost souls to the other side, to where Jason is waiting for you.”
“But…I…I can’t be dead. It’s not fair. I’m only sixteen…and Mark…oh, God, Mark. What about Mark?”
My heart breaks a little for him. He sounds so lost and forlorn. It’s hard for some ghosts to accept they’re dead, especially ones who died unexpectedly.
“I’m sorry, Steve, but you are dead. Mark isn’t sixteen anymore. He’s moved on, and it’s time for you to do the same. Let Kane take you to Jason where you can be happy. There will be no fear or worry on the other side. You’ll be loved and accepted and among family.”
Kane holds out his hand. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
Steve eyeballs Kane’s outstretched hand for the longest time before hesitantly placing his hand in the reaper’s. “I…are you sure I’m dead?”
/>
“I’m sure.” Kane grips the teen’s hand tighter. “But it’s okay. Everything is going to be just fine. It’s time to go.”
Steve’s face scrunches up, but he doesn’t refuse. Instead, he follows the reaper into the glowing doorway that’s standing open between this plane and the next. He gives me one more solemn look and steps into the light. The bright rip in the fabric of the planes closes behind them, and I let out a deep breath.
Steve was like most ghosts, shocked to learn they’re dead, but at least it hadn’t taken me hours to convince him. The last ghost I helped, I sat with her for over three hours trying to talk her into believing she was dead. I might actually get some stuff done today…crap.
I check my watch and start scrambling toward the ladder. I was supposed to pick Mary up fifteen minutes ago. She’s going to kill me. Getting into my car, I take off for the Tulane campus, hoping she won’t be too angry.
Chapter Two
Thank God for speech to text. I shoot Mary a quick message telling her I am on my way. It takes me about half an hour to get back into the city of New Orleans and onto Tulane’s campus. It never fails to shock me how gorgeous the campus is. It showcases the culture and history of the city. There’s this massive oak tree with benches under it that I’d discovered. It’s my new favorite spot to sit and draw. The oak inspires me in ways I can’t even begin to describe. The buildings are beautiful, the almost gothic architecture another big inspiration in my drawings.
I park in our designated parking area. Greenbaum House is one of the two newest dorms on campus. We have a suite with our own bathroom instead of having to share one with every resident on our floor. A shudder rolls through me just thinking about that. One of the nice things about having a dad who can afford whatever he wants is I get a decent dorm. He made sure Mary and I shared the bathroom, and we didn’t have a roommate in our connecting rooms. Not sure if Zeke had to pay double the room and board, but I am grateful.
If it had been left up to Zeke, Mary and I would still be living with him and being chauffeured to classes. Not that I blame him. It took us a year to recover after the events in Charlotte, North Carolina. Mary had been taken hostage by a Fallen Angel, and I’d shattered my soul to save her. We were both still in therapy for that, but we wanted to try normal again. Mary still isn’t the same person she used to be, but she’s slowly starting to come back from it. She smiles more and more, but the haunted look in her eyes may never completely go away. I don’t know what happened to her. She won’t talk about it with me, but she knows I’m here whenever she’s ready.
We’d chosen the new dorm not only because of the nicer rooms, but because we figured it would be less haunted than some of the older buildings. Ghosts tend to find me, and it’s easier to not invite every resident haunting within shouting distance into our rooms. My undead visitors can wake Mary up too. She hears ghosts, thanks to her out-of-body experience a few years ago.
That’s how my sister and I met. I’d grown up in foster care, not knowing I had a dad who spent every waking moment looking for me. My mother, who I found out stole me from my parents, tried to kill me when I was five. I’d died but had been brought back, thanks to the EMS people, but it woke up my reaping abilities, and from that moment on, I could see ghosts. A curse and a gift.
Anyway, Mary had been kidnapped and tortured so much, her soul left her body and came to find me, as many ghosts do. I knew she wasn’t dead, though, and Officer Dan Richards and I set out to look for her. Only I got ahead of myself and ended up being kidnapped and tortured myself. The serial killer, as we discovered she was, turned out to be my then-foster mother, Mrs. Olson. With the help of several ghosts, including my Mirror Boy, we’d escaped, and Mrs. Olson had been arrested. She’d been committed, so there wasn’t any trial we’d had to suffer through. We’d met as strangers and came out sisters. You don’t survive what we did and not come out the other side as family.
Yawning, I turn off the ignition and get out of the car. Mary texted me back to say she’d meet me in the dorm. I can definitely go for a nap if she doesn’t want to drag me along on whatever adventure she’s been rattling on about since this morning.
I take the stairs up to the third floor. Not because I’m trying to stay fit, but because I’ve had so many bad experiences in elevators. Ghosts like to take control of the elevator and force me to the deepest, darkest part of the building. I avoid elevators now whenever possible. Keeping myself in shape is just an accidental bonus.
My room is a mess. Clothes litter the floor, and art supplies take up every other surface in the room, except for my bed. I don’t think I’ve made my bed in a few days. I can hear Mrs. Cross, Mary’s mom, nattering away in my ear about making my bed. It was a pet peeve of hers, and I had tried to remember to do it, but, well, why make it when you were just going to get back into it and mess it up again? My logic drove her crazy.
“Mary!” I glance at my watch. I’m so late.
My sister comes hurtling through the bathroom, ready to murder me. She’s wearing jeans and a dark t-shirt, her blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail.
“Where have you been?” she demands, looking around at the mess that is my room. Her room? Neat and tidy. We are as different as daylight is to dark. “Seriously, Em, you need to at least use the laundry basket. Stuff is probably growing under all this by now.”
She refuses to call me Emma Rose. She knew me as Mattie Hathaway, and to her I’ll always be Mattie. But being Mattie brought me nothing but pain. I want to try being Emma Rose, the girl with people who love her and not the freak foster kid.
“Eh, it’ll keep until the weekend. I’m going to wash everything then. So, what’s the big hurry? You said I needed to be here as fast as I can.”
“And you’re late.” She gives me the stink eye, though her blue eyes are more agitated than irritated. Something’s definitely up.
“I was helping a ghost. Didn’t know he was dead.” I collapse on the bed.
Mary sighs but stops complaining. “What happened to him?”
“I thought he was a jumper, but I think he fell off the roof by accident.”
“Aw, that’s awful.”
“Yeah.” I feel bad for the kid, but at least he’s found peace now. “So, what was so urgent you made me break the speed limit?”
Mary rolls her eyes, knowing good and well I did no such thing. I’m doing my best to stay out of trouble down here. I want no one to know about my rap sheet back in Charlotte. The police and I have a rocky past. Zeke is quite proud of it, as he himself partakes in criminal activities. Not that he tells me about his adventures, but I’ve seen his file. I haven’t read it, but I’ve seen how thick it is.
“I met a guy.”
That makes me sit up. This is the first time since we left Charlotte she’s shown any interest in a guy. The last guy she liked was Caleb Malone. My mind skitters away from thoughts of the Malones. It brings back memories I’m still not ready to deal with.
“A guy?” I try to keep my voice casual instead of super excited. She’s been so reserved and quiet, I don’t want to scare her.
“His name’s Wade, and he invited me to come help him out this week.”
The very hesitant way she says that sets off alarms. “Help him with what?”
“Well…” She starts picking at the bottom of her t-shirt, refusing to look at me. “He runs a paranormal investigation group. They have their own YouTube channel and everything.”
Paranormal investigation group?
“Mary, please don’t tell me you’ve gone and gotten yourself involved in some kind of ghost hunting nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense. You and I both know better.”
“Mary…”
“Just hear me out, okay?” Her baby blues plead, and I groan, nodding. It’s freaking hard to say no to her.
“I like Wade, and I’ve been talking to him for about a month now. He told me all about him and his friends and how they go out and investigate haunted p
laces around New Orleans. They have over a hundred thousand followers on YouTube.”
Great. A YouTuber seeking fame and fortune using cheap tricks and illusions to mimic hauntings.
“Do I think he has any clue about actual ghosts? No, but he thinks he does and wants to bring me along on their newest location to show off what he does.”
“Do I hear a ‘but’ in there?”
“I don’t want to go by myself. I know Wade, but I don’t know his friends. I want someone else there in case I stupidly misjudged him and…”
“And you need to kick some butt?” I finish for her. Mary isn’t stupid. Going off on her own was how she’d fallen into Mrs. Olson’s hands to begin with.
“Yeah.” She smiles hesitantly, still picking at her t-shirt hem. She looks a little lost. It’s the first time she’s shown any interest in boys since her year-long captivity at the hands of Deleriel. No way am I not supporting this. It’s the first real sign she’s getting better.
“I got your back.” Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I text Eric and tell him to get his butt over to my dorm. “We’re bringing Eric too.”
“Let me tell Wade I’m bringing friends.” She turns and runs back to her own room, more excited than I’ve seen her in a long time.
My phone rings, and I answer it, knowing who it is. “Hathaway, what’s up?”
Leave it to Eric, who often forgets I left everything to do with Mattie Hathaway behind in Charlotte. But that’s not true, though. Eric is a part of the past I wanted to escape, but I can never leave my Mirror Boy behind.
“We’re going ghost hunting.”
“What?” It sounds like whatever he’s drinking spewed out of his mouth.
“You heard me. Now, get over here. We’re already late.” I don’t give him time to argue, just hang up the phone.
Mary skips back into the room—actually skips. “Wade says it’s cool if you guys come. Does this outfit look okay for ghost hunting? Well, not actual ghost hunting. Today is the interview stage.”
“Interview?”
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