“Hell yeah.” He grinned at me. “You know what would have been really cool?” He didn’t wait for my reply. “If we would have lit the pumpkins on fire like the real Headless Horseman.”
Okay, I wasn’t going to impart any afterlife-changing pearls of wisdom, so I pushed forward with the agenda. “Eddie, you need to cross over and I need to get home to hand out Halloween candy.” I took a step toward him. “Would that be all right?”
His brow furrowed. “Are you telling me you’re the grim reaper?”
I held out my arms. “In the flesh.”
“You’re hot.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised by his compliment.
“Hell yeah. I would have done this a lot sooner if I’d known hot babes were angels of death.”
Idiot. “Thanks.” I took him by the arm and led him to the lake’s edge. “I like you, Eddie.”
He edge closer to me, pressing his cold ghostly body into mine, literally. I jumped back. “Not like that.” A shiver ran the entire length of my spine. “Now stay.” I grabbed his arm again. “I’m going to pass you off to my porter and I promise he’ll show you a good time. Okay?”
Eddie nodded, a stupid grin plastered on his face. “Awesome.”
“Yes, it’s awesomely awesome.” I tilted my chin up. “Hal.”
Instantly the thin line of light appeared. One thing about Hal, he was prompt. The door slid open and he stood in a floor-length, white fur coat.
“Whoa,” Eddie said.
“Indeed,” I replied. “Now that’s awesome, right?”
“Dude, I love the threads.”
“A man of great taste,” Hal said. His yellow gaze skated to me. “Lisa, you bring me the most entertaining clients.”
“I trust Lily got where she needed to be?” I asked.
“Delivered to the Pearly Gates early this morning.” His gold tooth winked at me. “That is, after a turn around the first circle of Hell.”
“I said no tours.”
“She asked to go, and loved it.” He waved a silver cane in my direction. “The first circle is nothing more than a bunch of whining pagans. Now the third circle—” Hal looked at Eddie. “I think you’d enjoy that. Sex twenty-four-seven.”
Eddie looked at me. “Thanks for setting this up. It’s even better than I imagined.”
“I didn’t arrange this.” I glared at Hal. “What do you get, a cut on how many souls you lure into Hell?”
“Lisa, when will you learn, I simply want to have fun?” He waved Eddie to him. “And this young man not only likes my clothing, but seems ready for a little excitement as well.”
I glared at both of them and finally let go of the ghost’s arm. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me if you get in trouble—either of you.”
“Let your conscience be clear, sweet Lisa.”
“And don’t call me that.”
Eddie moved into the elevator and turned to face me. As the doors closed he grinned and waved. “See you on the other side.”
“I certainly hope not,” I mumbled.
As the portal disappeared, my phone erupted in my pocket. I fumbled with the zipper and finally pulled it free. It was my mother.
“Hi, Mom, is everything all right?” Icy wind whipped around me, but it wasn’t as chilling as my mother’s words.
“Bronte’s been in a car accident.”
Chapter 15
“I’m on my way.” My mind turned to white-hot panic. “Nate, we’ve got to go!”
“What’s going on?”
I started running across the snow-covered ground. “My daughter’s been in a car accident.”
The crunch of footsteps sounded behind me, letting me know Nate was close on my heels. Tears stung my eyes and streamed down my cheeks, burning in the cold. A huge lump formed in my throat. As I barreled up the snowy bank to Nate’s Suburban, I could hardly breathe. Was Bronte badly hurt—or worse?
Once at the truck I reached for the handle. My fingers gripped the door but began to shake. Shivers wracked my body, not from the cold, but from having to relive another possible death. The same crippling emotions I experienced the night Jeff died swamped me. Shallow sobs huffed from me as I wrestled with the door handle. Not my baby. Anybody but my kids.
Nate’s strong hands gripped my shoulder and moved me away from the door. I fought against him. “I need to get to her.”
“I know.” He blocked me and opened the door. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds while my brain processed what he said. Finally, I nodded and crawled into the passenger seat, my body trembling.
Nate climbed into the driver’s seat. “Put on your seatbelt.” I glared at him. “The roads are slippery, Lisa. Bronte needs you safe. Buckle up.”
Somehow his terse words penetrated my panic. I yanked the strap around me and jammed it into the buckle. “Drive.”
He slammed the Suburban into gear. The vehicle fishtailed, but he easily maintained control. We drove in silence all the way back to Anchorage, allowing every imaginable scenario to pummel my mind. What would I find once we reached the hospital? All my mother had said was there had been a car accident and Bronte was involved. I hadn’t heard anything after that.
I wiped the sleeve of my jacket across my eyes. Pulling myself out of the grief after Jeff’s death had been hard enough. I wasn’t sure I’d be so lucky if Bronte was dead.
Dead, like the young man I’d just reaped. I closed my eyes and sent up a silent prayer. “Please, not my daughter.”
But what if she had been killed? Would the task to reap her fall to me? When Vella had asked if I would have wanted to help my husband pass when he died I’d said no. At the time I’d meant it. Now, facing that very situation, I knew I’d give anything to see and talk to Bronte one last time.
The miles flew by in a blur, but it seemed to take forever to get to the hospital. Finally, Nate pulled up to the emergency entrance. “Go on. I’ll park and find you.”
Not waiting for the Suburban to stop, I flung the door open and raced through the automatic doors, skidding to a stop in front of the reception desk. “I’m Lisa Carron. My daughter was brought in. She was in a car accident.”
Maybe it was the panic in my voice, or the crazed mother-on-the-edge look on my face, but the woman snatched a visitor pass from the wall and came out of her office. “I’ll escort you back. Here, put this on.” She gave a single wave to the security guard in the booth directly across from her cubicle. “Lisa Carron.”
He nodded.
The woman pressed a large round button on the wall. With agonizing slowness the double doors opened. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, barely able to control the urge to push past her. Not that I’d know where to go. I’d probably start shouting for Bronte, get arrested, or at the very least, medicated. So I waited.
The only person at the desk was a young, tall male nurse. He glanced up as we approached.
“Michael, this is Lisa Carron. Her daughter is one of the kids in the car accident.” The receptionist turned and faced me. “He’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you,” was all I could manage.
As she passed me, she placed a hand on my shoulder, sending a wave of warmth through my body. I glanced at her hand, and then to her face. She smiled and I recognized her as one of the gifted. Not a grim reaper, but perhaps a wannabe or even a guardian angel. I nodded and returned my attention to Michael.
“Is my daughter…” My voice cracked. “Is my daughter alive?”
He looked up from the chart. “Yes, a broken arm, but nothing worse.”
Tension rushed from my muscles, deflating me like a balloon. At that same moment Nate arrived. I turned and buried my face in his jacket, and his arms went around me without hesitation. For once I was grateful for his solid chest and strength.
After another minute of sobbing into his coat, I sniffed and stepped away. “Are the other kids okay?”
I’d just assumed ev
erybody in the car had cuts and bruises but nothing worse.
The nurse shook his head and lowered his voice. “The driver was dead on arrival.”
His words hit me like a slap. “Oh my God.” My hand flew to my mouth. “Who was it?”
Michael flipped through the pages on a clipboard. “Kelly Huff.” He looked at me. “Her parents just arrived.”
Nausea rolled through my body. I bent, bracing my hands on my knees and tried to get a breath. Nate rubbed my back, but didn’t say anything. The anger over Bronte disobeying me was dwarfed by the fact that even though she’d narrowly escaped being killed, Kelly Huff had not. I stood and wrapped my arms around my torso. “Can I see my daughter, please?”
“Of course.”
We followed Michael along the corridor, passing several curtained off rooms. We stopped half way down the hallway. Movement drew my attention toward the end. Three people exited a room. A knot formed in my throat when the woman turned to one of the men and buried her face in his coat. The other person, obviously a doctor from the way he was dressed, spoke softly and then left the two alone.
“Kelly’s parents.” My voice cracked.
I wanted to go to them, offer my condolences, but the action felt too intrusive. What could I possibly say? No parent should outlive their child—ever. And the fact that mine was still alive suddenly seemed unfair somehow.
Nate put his hand and on my back and guided me into the room. At first I was resistant but then I saw Bronte lying in the bed, her face covered with bruises and cuts, her arm in a sling. I practically ran to her. She turned her head and looked at me, tears streaming down her face. At that moment, my only thought was of comforting her. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her gently to me, careful not to hurt her.
She turned her face toward my neck. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Me too, baby.” I kissed the top of her head, letting my lips linger in her hair. “Me too.”
“The doctor will be with you in a few minutes,” Michael said, and slipped out of the room.
From the doorway Nate said, “I’ll be right back.”
I turned my head, still resting my cheek against Bronte’s head. “Where are you going?”
“I need to check on a few things.” He tugged the curtain closed, leaving Bronte and me alone.
It didn’t take super-duper reaper intuition to know he’d gone to reap Kelly Huff. A chill ran up my spine, and I closed my eyes. Some days I really hated this job.
Though it took all my willpower, I unwound my arms from Bronte, and pulled the chair in the corner up to the side of the bed. I claimed her hand, needing to touch her. We sat in silence until her tears finally dried. Now that some of the shock had worn off, questions bubbled inside me, but I didn’t ask them, not wanting to traumatize my daughter any more than she had been tonight.
After another few minutes she said, “I’m sorry I disobeyed you, Mom. I promise to never do it again.”
A humorless laugh hiccupped from me. “If only that were true.” I chanced a little parenting. “Why did you do it?”
She shrugged and winced. “It sounds lame, but Fang begged me to go. You may have noticed that me and my friends aren’t actually that popular.” She hesitated. “I knew Kelly was just using us to get to William, so I decided to use her to get into the in crowd.”
“I didn’t think you cared about popularity contests?” It seemed she wasn’t the only one learning a lesson tonight.
Since the day she was born, Bronte had had her own style. She never seemed to care about what was cool. At least I hadn’t thought so. I was wrong.
“I never did—don’t really, but Fang does. She said if I was a good friend I’d suffer through the night.”
“Even though I said no?”
Bronte nodded.
“Still, you made the decision. You have to take responsibility for that.”
“I know, and I won’t argue with whatever punishment you give me.” She let her head fall back and rest against her pillow. “Maybe you could ground me for a year so I don’t have to see anybody.”
“A whole year? Don’t you think we’ve already had a year of punishment?”
Her gaze captured mine. Tears puddled, magnifying her blue eyes. “All I could think about was what you were going to do when you heard I’d been in a car accident. You know, after Dad and all.”
I swallowed hard. “I won’t lie, Bronte, that was one of the worst moments of my life.” A single tear spilled down her cheek, but I wiped it away with my thumb. “And hearing that you were alive was one of the best.”
“So what now?”
“We go on from here.” I leaned forward and swiped a matted chunk of hair from her face. “Live our lives. That’s the best we can do.”
Before she could reply the curtain whipped open. “Bronte.” My mother sailed into the room and threw herself at her granddaughter. “We thought you were dead.”
“Grandma, I can’t breathe,” Bronte’s muffled voice emanated from my mother’s armpit.
I looked at my dad. For the first time that I could remember, genuine emotion played across his face. His pale skin accentuated his wide-eyed stare, as if staring at a ghost. “Dad, you okay?”
His gaze slid to me. “Yeah.” His voice was raspy and I had the urge to get up and hug him, but I didn’t. If my dad started to cry, I would lose it completely.
“Where are the boys?”
“We left them with Vella,” my mother said. “She wants you to call her as soon as you get a chance.”
I’d have to do something nice for her. Not having to worry about the boys was worth two bottles of wine and several hours of listening to stories about her crazy family.
Seeing Nate lingering just outside the door, I stood and patted my mom’s back. “I’ll be right back.” On my way out I pulled the curtain closed again. “Well?” I whispered at Nate.
“Well what?”
I gripped his wrist and pulled him away from Bronte’s room. “Kelly Huff, did you reap her.”
“No.”
I let go of his arm. “Why not? I thought that’s where you went.”
He glanced down the hall, and then back to me. “I did but she wasn’t there.”
I narrowed my gaze. “What do you mean she wasn’t there?”
“Somebody reaped her already.”
“Are you sure?”
He sneered at me. “I think I know when there’s no soul.”
“Sorry. It’s just weird, is all.” I paced a few steps. “That is weird, right?”
“Weird but not impossible. Somebody might have been in the area. I don’t know.”
“Is there any way to find out who?”
Nate stared at me for a few seconds. “It doesn’t matter, Lisa. Kelly is gone. Job done.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” He took my hand and led me back to Bronte’s room. “You need to focus on your family right now. Not worry about who—,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “finished the job.”
I stopped at the entrance. Nate let go of my hand, but didn’t go into the room. He was right. Bronte needed me, but more than that, I needed her, and my boys. “Thanks for being there tonight. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
His lips spread into a tight smile. “Don’t mention it, Carron. That’s what partners do for each other—right?”
Had he just called me his partner? Without coercion? Without threat of death? Not wanting to spoil our one, fragile moment with sarcasm, I nodded. “Yeah, they do.”
A slight blush crept across his cheeks. He shifted uncomfortably and then flicked his head toward the exit. “I’m gonna hit the road.” He shoved his hands in his front pockets. “This seems like a family affair.”
“Okay, thanks.”
He turned to leave but stopped. “Take a few days off. I’ll cover your assignments,” he said over his shoulder, not looking at me.
I didn’t reply and he didn’t seem to expect one. His
step never slowing, he strode down the hall. I watched until he turned the corner. Who knew Nate Cramer, reaper extraordinaire, had a heart? I hadn’t, but it wasn’t a mistake I’d make again. And as far as Kelly Huff’s spirit, that was another issue. Maybe one day we’d discover who reaped her, but for now I wanted to forget about everything except taking care of my daughter.
It seemed death would be my constant companion from now on, and I could either be consumed by it or own it. I decided to own it. Suck it, Death! There’s a new reaper in town.
The End
Continue the Grim Reality Series in book two, Styx & Stoned
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About the Author
I’ve been writing fulltime for five years, which isn’t long for some, and a lifetime for others, but I’ve learned a couple of things about myself. I love to spoil my readers. I want them to get lost in my stories, even if it’s only during their lunch break. And I want to make them laugh.
It might only be a little in one of my medieval fantasies, or a lot from my Grim Reality Series. I hope you become part of my family of readers, and I can help you forget your cares for a while and make you laugh.
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Shadowling
(Shadowling Chronicles Book 1)
Eric Padilla
Shadowling © 2017 Eric Padilla
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All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Myths & Magic: A Science Fiction and Fantasy Collection Page 301