Styx & Stoned (The Grim Reality Series Book 2)

by Brux, Boone

  “Why not?” My response sparked Mara’s interest even more, and when I didn’t answer, she verbally prodded me. “Come on, tell me. I promise I won’t laugh.”

  “Yes you will.” I hit spin and lost.

  “No I won’t. Come on, Lisa, tell me.”

  She wouldn’t give up. I knew this. Accepting defeat, I swiveled back to her. “Stupid people.”

  Her brow furrowed and she shook her head. “What?”

  “I reap people who have died in stupid ways.” I’ll give her credit, Mara didn’t laugh—right away—but the corners of her mouth twitched.

  “Give me an example of somebody you’d reap.”

  “Gator wrestlers. Idiots who jump over bomb fires. One time I reaped a guy who rode across thin ice on a snowmobile while wearing a pumpkin on his head. There’s no end to the variety of reaps I might be subjected to.” I stared at her for a few seconds and then said, “Now you can laugh.”

  “I’m not going to laugh.” Though she wasn’t able to contain all of her amusement, and let only a small chuckle escape, her reaction wasn’t completely humiliating. “Okay, maybe a little, sorry. But that’s really Jimmied.”

  “Jimmied to the max.” I shrugged and pushed my spin button with a lot less vigor. “I’m used to it.”

  “Listen,” she said, “the type of clients you reap has no bearing on the caliber of reaper you are.” She tapped a red fingernail on the metal ledge her drink rested on. “For being so new at this, you’ve already gotten Tabris’s attention. That’s saying something.”

  I looked at her. “Only because Hal is my porter.”

  “I know.” She held out her hands in question. “And what’s up with that? Why do you have a minor deity as your porter?”

  “Because, Mara, it’s part of the cosmic joke that is my life.”

  “I don’t think so.” She waved her finger at me. “You’re special. They know it.” She pointed toward the ceiling, but I figured she meant higher up than the Venetian management. “Nate knows it, and...” She pointed at me again. “Hal knows it.”

  “Well, I wish somebody would tell me.” I hit the spin button, effectively draining my credits to zero. “I could use a little specialness about now.”

  “Come on.” Mara cashed out, snagged her credit ticket from the machine. “Let’s go over here.”

  “Where?” I stood and took another drink.

  “Do you trust me?”

  No, but I wasn’t about to tell a demon that. “Of course.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and smirked, as if she knew I was lying. Facing forward again, she wove her way through the machines, across the casino, and then stopped at a Blazing Sevens machine. “Max bet this one.”

  “It’s a dollar slot.” I shook my head. “Three dollars a pop. Do you know how long I can play the pennies for that?”

  “Have faith.” She draped her arm across the top. “And stick a twenty in.”

  I eyed the machine, trying to sense its vibe, but felt nothing. After a few seconds I sighed and dug in my purse. Dollars were stored in the front pocket for easy access. Twenties I had to dig for. I pulled out the bill and ran it through my fingers, trying to flatten it. “One time, that’s it.”

  “That’s all you’ll need.” She plucked the money from me and fed it to the slot machine. The credits dinged, the number twenty lighting up. “Max bet.”

  “Three dollars a spin?” I cringed, my hand refusing to hit the button. I could have bought souvenirs for all three kids with those twenty dollars. “This is nuts.”

  “Do it.”

  Again, I exhaled, accepting the loss of my money and spun. No win. Not even two for a cherry. “See.”

  “Keep betting.” Mara didn’t look at the payout window, but instead stared at me, smiling.

  I pressed it again, this time winning two dollars. Mara’s fingers began to drum on the top, near the light. I hit the max bet button. The wheels spun an overly long time and when Mara stopped drumming, the slots clicked into place.

  “Oh, my God, I just won a hundred dollars.” I reached to cash out, but Mara covered the button.

  “Try again.”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve never won this much. I could totally get the kids actual gifts instead of a keychain or lame T-shirts.”

  “How about great gifts for them, for yourself, and extra to pay next month’s bills?”

  “Right.” I laughed, but when she continued to stare at me, my smile melted and my gaze narrowed. “Are you controlling the game?”

  “How in the world would I do that?” She grinned so innocently I knew she was lying.

  Being a demon probably had a lot of perks. Causing a slot machine to pay off seemed like a simple feat for a minion of the Underworld. But should I let her? Wouldn’t it be cheating? Guilt over being dishonest lasted about two seconds. I slapped the spin button. The three windows spun round and round while Mara drummed her fingers against the machine. When she stopped, the sevens lined up, paying out sixteen hundred dollars.

  My mouth dropped open and I sat frozen, staring at the amount ratcheting up on my credits. When it finished, Mara pressed the attendant button. “Now you can cash out.”

  I looked at her, slowly composing myself and whispered, “Thank you.”

  “For what?” She shrugged. “It was your money.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  She nodded, holding my gaze, “But nothing. You played the slots like a million other people and got lucky.”

  I shoved the straw in my mouth and drank, a much better option than talking and chancing someone overhearing me. While we waited for the attendant, we sipped our drinks. Mara appeared calm and not a bit guilty. I, on the other hand, felt like every security camera watched me, assessing my every move.

  Finally, the assistant arrived. After another ten minutes, we were on our way to the luncheon, my purse sixteen-hundred dollars heavier. Once in the hallway leading to the convention center, I said, “Thanks.”

  Mara was silent for a second, and then replied. “You’re welcome.”

  We never spoke about the gambling again, both of us having sat through Jimmy’s extensive lecture about no personal gain from situations. Finding out whether a demon nudging a slot machine in her favor fell into that category wasn’t something I wanted consider too deeply. And even though the money I won wouldn’t pay an entire month of bills, it certainly wouldn’t hurt, so I wasn’t complaining.

  Remembering Nate wanted me to text him, I pulled out my phone. A few seconds later, it vibrated with his reply. “They’re near the front of the banquet room on the left side, toward the kitchen.”

  “Let’s not tell the boys we’ve been gambling for the last hour.” Mara flipped a swath of auburn hair over her shoulder. “I like to keep Cam guessing about what I’ve been up to as much as possible.”

  “Roger that.”

  We passed through the double doors at the front of the banquet room. The room was relatively empty, the last classes before the luncheon not having released yet, which meant Nate would guess I hadn’t gone. Cam stood and waved us over to the table they’d commandeered. It sat two rows back on the very end. Probably to get a good view of the speaker.

  I claimed the seat beside Nate and Mara sat next to Cam. Six seats were still empty, and I didn’t know if Tabris or anybody else would be joining us.

  “So,” Nate said, “what did you two do this morning?”

  Mara cocked her head and sneered. “What did we do? We got Jimmied, Nate. That’s what we did.”

  “Jimmied?” Cam cleared his throat, obviously trying to repress his smile. “Would that be the infamous Jimmy from the following the rules for newbies class?”

  “The same.” Mara dug into the breadbasket and pulled out a roll. “As if you didn’t know.”

  “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Nate asked, his mouth stretching into a smile.

  “Yes, it was that bad, Nate.” I glared at him. “No woman should ever be subjected to Jimmy.”
I followed Mara’s lead and chose a fat onion roll. “Now I need to shower again.” I bit into the bread, more out of irritation than hunger, and chewed. “You set me up and I will get you back.”

  Nate held up his hands in defense. “All I did was tell you about the class.”

  “Total manipulation.” I jabbed my roll at him. “You knew I’d take the bait if you threw in that Constantine didn’t believe I’d go.”

  “It’s not my fault you have a need to prove yourself.”

  I glared at him. “Gee, I wonder why?”

  When I first became a reaper, Nate took every opportunity to let me know he didn’t think I’d make it. Over the past months I’d proven I could do the job. Unfortunately my successes had been littered with just as many screw-ups. What did he expect? Most of the time I was reaping idiots. I never knew whether they’d cooperate and transfer without any trouble, or if I’d end up chasing them through the Alaskan wilderness.

  Deciding I didn’t want the conversation to continue in the same vein, I switched topics. “Hey, I was in one of the bathrooms on the fifth floor and I met a ghost.”

  “Did you reap her?” Nate asked.

  “No, she’d already been reaped.”

  His quasi-interest ratcheted, and his eyes cut to me. “Already been reaped?”

  I nodded.

  “Then why was she in the bathroom?”

  “I think the better question is how,” Cam said.

  “Exactly.” The thought of spirits seeping onto our physical plane made the bread turn sour in my stomach. I set the roll on a small white saucer. “She said she’d been waiting in line for the ferry, it started getting crowded, and then poof, she was in the bathroom.”

  “That’s not good.” Mara folded her arms over her chest and crossed her legs, settling against the chair. “I think Tabris is off on his timeline, and spirits are already crossing back over.”

  “I agree,” I said. “It sounded like Estelle, the ghost in the bathroom, got squeezed out. From what she said, she wasn’t doing anything but standing in line.”

  A spirit passed through the kitchen door, gliding through the tables, and out of the banquet room.

  “Maybe all these ghosts loitering about isn’t so natural for Vegas,” I said.

  “You might be right.” Nate stood. “We need to tell Tabris. Maybe he has an emergency plan.”

  “If he doesn’t,” Cam said, “I think we can count on putting in some overtime.”

  I watched Nate stride out of the room, the sinking weight of responsibility pushing against my shoulders. I’d been in Las Vegas less than twenty-four hours and already I was embroiled in an epic crisis. I picked up my roll and shoved the rest in my mouth. It just frickin’ figured.

  Chapter Six

  The luncheon started on time with no indication of trouble. GRS employees chatted with their tablemates, seemingly clueless about the banks of the River Styx backing up like faulty plumbing. Speakers droned on about the mission of GRS, our role in the great corporation, blah, blah, blah. I fidgeted in my seat, unable to concentrate on anything they said. The longer I sat, the more anxious I became.

  Dozens of questions popped into my mind. Which spirits were spilling back to the physical plane? Violent criminals, grandmothers, children? Was there any kind of filter for those who were freed? When the other reapers caught wind of the problem, they still wouldn’t be able to reap. There was no room on the banks. Maybe, by some miracle, we’d coax Charon back to Styx before things got out of control, but…what if we didn’t?

  “Ms. Carron?” A thin Asian man leaned next to my ear. “Mr. Tabris would like you and Ms. Mara to join him in his office after the luncheon.”

  I turned my head, looking into the black gaze of Tabris’s assistant. He hadn’t asked if we would go, and I wasn’t about to tell a high-powered angel, and my big boss, no. I nodded. “Of course.”

  The man straightened and strode back to Tabris, delivering the message.

  Hoping Nate had a better handle on the situation than I did, I turned to him “Why do you think he only wants to talk to Mara and me?”

  Nate watched Tabris for a few seconds before replying. “I don’t know.” His expression relaxed, and he smiled. The action was forced, not making me feel any better about the upcoming meeting. “It’s probably nothing, maybe just an update on Hal.”

  Even as he offered an explanation, I could tell Nate didn’t believe it—neither did I. Whereas my stomach was a jumble of nerves, Mara appeared cool and collected, as always. I’d only known her for a day, but doubted there was much that flustered the demon. I wished some of her coolness would rub off on me.

  When all the speakers were finished, and the attendees began filing out of the banquet hall, Mara and I followed the flow. For once the slow moving crowd didn’t bother me. Something about being summoned didn’t sit well. I hoped Tabris was going to simply update us on what he wanted, or the situation, but the fact that Cam and Nate hadn’t been ordered to come made me uneasy.

  “Is it just me, or is this weird?” I asked.

  Mara glanced at me. “Weird is a relative term when it comes to the ethereal administration.” We skirted a group of GRS employees, chatting about the inspirational messages at the luncheon. “Totally clueless,” she mumbled.

  “Blissfully ignorant,” I added. “Must be nice.”

  Several corridors and turns later we stopped in front of the set of golden doors. Mara raised her hand, preparing to knock. “Ready?”

  No, but that wasn’t an option. “Yep.”

  She rapped and the door instantly opened. Tabris’s assistant ushered us into the room, sealing the door behind us, and then left through another door located behind one of the pillars. In the semi-circle of overstuffed chairs and settees sat eight people. Immediately, I could tell they weren’t reapers. An air of authority surrounded the group, as if they had the right to openly assess Mara and I as we edged into the room. The urge to grab her hand like a scared child made my fingers twitch but I repressed the impulse, not wanting to look like a wuss.

  The hair on the back of my neck prickled, which usually meant trouble or the presence of supernatural beings. I figured it was fairly safe to assume this was some kind of ethereal council. I just hoped Mara and I weren’t getting voted off the island.

  I glanced at her. As usual, she was the vision of cool, but I did notice her spine stiffened slightly when she first saw the collected group. She must have recognized them for what they were, which meant once again, I was the least informed. Typical.

  When we stopped in front of the gathered group, Mara bent in a low bow, lasting a good five seconds. Not knowing who these people were, but figuring better safe than sorry, I mirrored the demon’s action. When she rose, so did I. Still the people didn’t speak, which I found very rude. Maybe that’s because I have a tendency to over talk in awkward situations. Fill the silence—that’s usually my modus operandi.

  A door to the right slammed, jerking my attention away from the unwavering stares. “Oh, good,” Tabris said, striding toward us. “You’re here.”

  “Sorry if we kept you waiting,” I said, not meaning it. The less time we had to spend with this group, the better. “We had to fight the luncheon crowd.”

  “You’re right on time.” He stopped beside me. “Lisa and Mara, I’d like to introduce you to the GRS board of directors.” Pointing to two women and two men sitting to the right, he said, “These are Heaven’s members.” Then he indicated the group to the left, also two women and two men. “And Hell’s members.”

  “Really?” My eyes widened. I couldn’t help it. Every time I blinked, somebody hit me with new information a low-ranking reaper shouldn’t be privy to. I shook my head. “I never knew there were so many representatives from—” Even though Tabris had just described them as Hell’s members, I couldn’t force the H-word out. Like an idiot, I simply pointed to the floor.

  That drew a smile from an elegant-looking man on Heaven’s side of the group
ing. “I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase, ‘there would be no good without evil.’”

  I nodded.

  “This is one of those circumstances. We work together for the greater good.”

  “Wow, that is so not what I was raised to believe,” I blurted.

  “Hollywood,” Tabris said. “The truth is boring and wouldn’t put butts in the seats, so they embellish the situation.”

  “You’re probably right, but…” I contemplated the stories I’d grown up believing. “I think the real reason people cling to the good and evil battle is because they need a clearly defined villain, hero, and solid guidelines to live by.”

  “I couldn’t have said it better.” Tabris indicated two empty seats at the end of the half circle and then pulled up a chair for himself. He sat and smiled at me. “Please, sit.”

  As I took my seat, I chanced another look at the gathered group. There wasn’t a single thing that distinguished Heaven’s reps from Hell’s. No horns or halos. No pitchforks or harps. Even one of Hell’s reps was dressed all in white, totally blowing my perception of Hell’s minions out of the water.

  “So...” I shifted in my seat. “Have we done something wrong?”

  “Not at all.” Tabris gestured toward the group. “As you know, the situation with Charon is escalating. Already the spirits are filtering back, which means the riverbanks are full, and no more spirits can be delivered.”

  “The longer those souls remain undelivered, the greater the chance of being claimed by rogue demons,” said a young woman from Heaven’s side. “Balance between good and evil will be lost, which could set events in motion that we won’t be able to recover from.”

  “That’s why we need to take preemptive action,” Tabris said.

  “What kind of preemptive action?” Mara asked, echoing my own question.

  “We—” he swooped his hand around the circle, “—need your help.”

  My gaze skated to the silent group. All sixteen eyes were leveled on me, and I suddenly knew what a deer in the headlights felt like.

  “Of course, we’ll help any way we can.” I managed a half-smile, which none of the group returned, and then faced Tabris. Keeping my train of thought was a lot easier if I focused on him. “But shouldn’t Nate and Cam be here, too? Personally speaking, Nate is a lot better at this kind of thing than I am.”