by AJ Rose
“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” Nate challenged.
I don’t know. Maybe he was afraid you’d react badly?
“I can’t think.” He sank back to the couch and gulped his beer, too full of questions to settle on one, like glimpses of playing cards being shuffled, but the only ones to register were jokers. He was being played. He had to be. But Tate wouldn’t do that to him.
Troy rubbed a tentative hand across his shoulder blades. “You okay?”
“It’s crazy,” he murmured.
“Kind of. But how much about the afterlife do we really understand?” Troy asked practically. “Next levels and attachments of souls. Who knows what it all means or who makes the rules? Can you talk to Mitch? Maybe he’d be able to help you understand.”
Nate was already shaking his head. “He wouldn’t tell me anything. He freaked out when he realized Tate was my sister, confirmed that she’s still around, and then shut me down when I tried to get him to tell me why he couldn’t see me anymore.”
If Troy was having trouble following the conversation, he didn’t let on. “Maybe it’s for the better then. I mean, maybe he left because he’s already around death a lot and didn’t want to be around more in his down time. I’m just guessing, but that could be it.”
“Maybe,” Nate mumbled. It did explain why Wes said the Seekers were always around when people died. “Tate?”
Yes?
“Are reapers all related to each other?”
I don’t know. I only ever saw two.
“Oh.”
No, wait. Mitch’s dad also has an aura. His is this pretty burnt orange with red outer edges. Like a sunset, and just as peaceful.
So it was Mitch’s family, too.
“How would I get more information if I can’t talk to Mitch? Do you know who else might know about reapers?” he asked, an inkling of an idea forming.
I have no idea. It doesn’t seem like the living can see a reaper’s aura, but it’s not like I’ve talked to anyone about this. Hell, maybe reapers can’t even see them.
Stuck. It was probably just as well. Nate’s sensory system was on overload. He needed time to think about all this, figure out if there was anything more he could learn. Or consider if he even should.
“You’re okay, though, right, Tate?”
Yeah. Tired now. Going soon.
“Going where?” He sat up, panicked.
Just to rest. I don’t leave you. Even when I fade out, I’m tied to you. Our connection is strong. Stronger than what I felt with my reaper, which is why I think I’m hooked to you and not him. Maybe it’s the twin thing. Maybe it’s how I died, with you right there beside me. I don’t know.
“Okay. I’ll leave the computer on if you want to use it to talk to me. I’m kind of overloaded, now, though.”
Okay. Love ya, dork.
“Love you back, nerd.”
She made a kissy face on the screen out of symbols and then the room shifted, as though a breeze blew through, making eddies of dust motes and sunshine, though the sun had dipped well below the mountain through his window.
“That was insane,” Troy said, breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” was all Nate could say.
“Are you all right? You look a little freaked out.”
“I am,” Nate admitted. “Lots to think about.”
“Want me to go? Or we could order takeout and just chill for the rest of the night, if you don’t want to be alone.”
I’m never alone, Nate realized, both heartened and a little unnerved. “Would you mind staying? I doubt I’ll be great company, but it would be nice not bouncing around here with no one to talk to.”
“No problem. Let’s get some food. Maybe that’ll help you feel normal again. Preferences?”
Nate waved a hand, grateful Troy was taking over. As Troy called for Indian delivery, he sat on the couch, eyes alighting on his possessions dotted around the room. Everything took on a different cast than what he was used to. His books, if he reread them, would have different meaning. The pictures he’d begun collecting and framing to hang on the walls, mostly of mountain scenes, seemed more profound, as though this fabulous landscape had always been privy to secrets he’d only newly discovered. The air felt heavier, more expectant. His thoughts turned to his sister, somewhere in the apartment with him, weary and resting after so much communication. How did ghosts rest? Did they sleep? Just kind of hover? He let his mind wander while Troy puttered unobtrusively in the background.
By the time his friend bid him goodnight after an evening of mindless TV and occasional conversations about what they’d learned, Nate was no closer to determining how he felt about the shift in his perspective.
A door to a new plane of existence had opened, much like the one Tate described that was supposed to have come for her, and he was on a precipice. Did he slam it shut and forget all this crazy new information, seeking the blissful ignorance in which he’d once existed? Or did he go through it into the unknown, which would challenge every belief he’d ever had? Was there danger in him knowing? For him or for Tate?
The only thing he knew was, if he wanted answers, he had to step over that threshold, even if it scared the shit out of him.
Chapter 15
A Prophecy in Email
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
RE: Public relations concerning reaper status
Thank you, Mitch, for letting me know of increasing pressure regarding public suspicion of your reapership. We are already aware of the situation with the local officer and his friend, your former acquaintance. At this time, there’s no need for intervention. We find feeding into the rumors or simply not correcting them is the best way to head off any exposure of your kind. If it becomes necessary to get involved, Divinity will handle it directly, though we will only do so as a last resort so as not to call unneeded attention to the situation.
Your responsibilities will continue as they have since becoming activated. You’re handling the job admirably. In fact, your probationary period has been shortened, and you are hereby promoted to full reapership, effective immediately. Welcome to the club! I’d offer you a jacket/robe or your very own sickle, but humans don’t think those things are funny. I can’t even promise a pay increase. So you’ll just have to accept my undying gratitude. Get it? Undying?
Sincerely,
Katherine
Angel #38, United States Overseer
Mitch reread the email again, only sure the angel was joking with him because of her last couple sentences. He hadn’t had a lot of contact with her, but he was quickly learning she did love her puns. Mostly, she was business-like, but her jokes made him wonder what angels were like in general and if she was an anomaly or they were all horrible comedians.
The line We are already aware of the situation with the local officer and his friend, your former acquaintance did give him pause, though. How much did they know? Were there angels keeping tabs on his personal life? He supposed they’d have to, somewhat, in order to maintain the secret that reapers existed. Still, how much did they watch?
What are you so worried about? You fucked Nate while his sister was in the room and while you were connected to that construction guy. Still, the idea a divine creature might be privy to his hookups under the pretense of secret-keeping made him squirm.
The bell over the door to Seraph Books chimed and he looked up, quickly closing out of his browser. Could never be too careful. It turned out he didn’t have to be concerned.
“Morgan! What are you doing here?”
His brother shook his head to clear fresh snowflakes from his hair, the late afternoon light behind him gray with the beginning wave of a fresh ten inches forecasted. This winter was shaping up to be a skier’s wet dream.
“Got an email yesterday from Katherine to take a trip home, especially before the snow hit and closed down flights. Traded my shifts for the week due to a family emergency and got here as quick as I could. Have you heard what�
�s coming up yet?”
Mitch stared, then returned to his computer to pull up his email again. “Nothing in my inbox besides Katherine telling me I’m not a probie anymore and being a full-fledged reaper doesn’t come with a pay increase beyond her undying devotion. Considering a ten percent raise is still a percentage of zero salary, I think she missed a trick not cashing in on that joke.”
Morgan groaned. “Please tell me you’re not getting into her puns.”
Grinning, Mitch rounded the counter and enveloped his brother in a bear hug. “I choose puns over insanity any day. If I laugh at her stupid jokes instead of cry over being a freak, it’s a win, don’t you think?”
“You calling me a freak?” Morgan asked, playfully punching him in the arm after extricating himself from Mitch’s hug.
“If the shoe fits.”
“Where’s Dad?” He looked around the shop.
“He left on an unexpected errand.”
Morgan raised a brow. “I thought he wasn’t doing jobs anymore.”
The bell over the door chimed again, letting in three high school girls, who giggled as they shook snow off their coats. They clomped over to the bestsellers and new releases, not even looking at Mitch and Morgan.
“He’s still getting the occasional email.” Mitch kept it cryptic, not wanting to be overheard. “He’ll probably be back in a couple hours.”
Morgan peered through the windows. “Better be soon, or we’ll have to send out a search party.”
Mitch smirked. “You’ve been away too long. This is nothing. We got two feet a week or so ago.”
Taking off his scarf and coat, Morgan whistled in awe, then disappeared down the short hallway to the office to hang up his gear. When he returned, the girls were at the counter buying the Divergent trilogy and talking about how hot Four was in the movies. Mitch couldn’t help wondering if they knew how the third book ended.
“How long are you in town?” Mitch asked when the customers had gone. He crossed to the other side of the store to make himself and Morgan a couple lattes, then settled in one of the comfortable reading nook armchairs. Morgan joined him, blowing across the hot surface of his mug.
“I don’t know. I was just told to be in place for whatever’s about to happen. Could be tomorrow, could be next week. My boss was kinda pissed.”
“That’s not at all ominous,” Mitch said with a frown. “You ever get instructions like this before?”
Morgan shook his head and took a sip. “I can only assume it’s something big. These happen now and then, even in small towns.”
Mitch knew what his brother meant; “something big” was a reap large enough to require more than a single reaper. A wave of apprehension crested through his veins, and he wondered if asking Dad about his experience with them had somehow brought one on.
But that’s insane. I can no more control when people die than the people dying. His nerves were frayed after the events of the last couple months, but he’d been trying to convince himself it was simply growing pains. Any job had its learning curve. Clearly, Divinity was happy with how he was handling things.
Charles came in then, and upon spying his oldest son, came over for a hug. “This is a happy surprise. Is Samantha with you?”
“No, it was last minute. She couldn’t get off work.”
“How’s she doing?” Charles shed his outdoor gear and folded it over the back of the third, empty armchair and leaned his elbows on it, clasping his hands in front of him.
“She’s good. A little over five months to go until the wedding, and she’s not a bridezilla yet, so I still want to marry her.”
Charles laughed. “Happy for you. Are you staying at the house or with your brother?”
Morgan made a face. “I’m not sleeping on Mitch’s couch. Figured I could crash in my old room, if that’s okay.”
“Of course it is,” Charles agreed. “Mitch, why don’t you and Sadie come stay while Morgan’s here? It’ll be like old times, only with more dog hair.”
Mitch thought about it. “Sure. I don’t have anything spectacular waiting for me at home, and I miss the fireplace during snowstorms.”
“What happened to that guy you were seeing?” Morgan asked.
Mitch’s face heated, and he looked away. “It didn’t work out.”
Morgan clucked his tongue. “Ugh. Sorry.”
Thankful his brother wasn’t the type to go all therapist on him like their dad, Mitch hurriedly changed the subject. “Closing early again tonight, Dad? We probably aren’t going to get a lot more business.” A quick glance out the front windows showed the snow was already beginning to stick. Most people in Caperville didn’t bat an eye at a few inches of new snow, but they also weren’t the type to risk an accident going out for something nonessential like books.
“Yeah. I’ll phone your mother and let her know you’re coming for dinner.” He disappeared into his office and returned a few minutes later with Mitch’s and Morgan’s coats and knitwear, and Sadie’s leash. When she heard the tinkling of the clasp, Sadie hauled herself off her pillow behind the counter and nudged Morgan’s hand for pets.
“Man, she got big,” he said, obliging her with ear scratches.
“That’s what happens when you don’t come home for months at a time.”
Morgan slipped his arms into his coat. “Using all my time off for reaps kind of cuts into my vacation days.”
Charles waved him off. “No one understands better than your mom and me, son. Don’t worry about it.”
The evening was a pleasant one, warm inside, good food in their bellies as they traded stories about their most interesting reaps of the last few months over pie and coffee while the storm ramped up outside. Mitch was sated, and for the first time in weeks, happy. When it occurred to him, the kernel of contentment snuffed out as he realized these moments would be so rare once his parents were gone. Yeah, he’d have Morgan, but that was it.
Maybe Dad’s right. Do I really want to be so alone?
“Penny for your thoughts,” his father asked, bumping the side of his hand.
Mitch pasted on a smile. “Just feels good to all be together again.” He didn’t want to go into the conversations he’d had with his father in front of Morgan, and he didn’t have to. From various locations around the kitchen, three cell phones dinged with email chimes.
“Wow, that’s never happened before,” Sylvia said.
Mitch dug his phone from his pocket, and Charles and Morgan popped over to the counter, where both of theirs were plugged in to charge.
Mitch thumbed the screen to life and opened the email, his stomach twisting like taffy as he read the first line.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
RE: Preparation instructions for upcoming reap
On Saturday, December 12th, there will be a multiple casualty event on Caper Mountain that requires advance preparation. Due to the size of the event, I’ve called in reinforcements to share the connection load as you ferry the souls involved through their doors at the appointed time.
This being your first multiple fatality incident, I highly recommend you discuss with the more experienced reapers in your household how to go about maintaining connections to more than one soul. Your brother should be arriving shortly if he’s not already there, and your uncle has been loaned to the Accidental and Violent Expiration department from Hospice. Attached you’ll find the list of souls for whom you’re responsible, as well as a description of the event itself so you can prepare. These are only the souls assigned to you during the event. Familiarize yourself with them, learn their faces so you can pick them out of a crowd, and let me know if you have any questions.
Mitch, I know this is your first big event. If you need my assistance for anything, let me know. Otherwise, Charles can walk you through it.
Sincerely,
Katherine
Angel #38, United States Overseer
Mitch opened the attachment with a shaky t
humb, quickly scrolling through the names, surprised to find photos of the intended souls beside them. That hadn’t ever happened before. Usually, he was left to suss out the souls’ identities on his own. But the anomaly of attached pictures wasn’t his foremost worry—Nate was.
Please don’t let him be on it. Please don’t let him be on the list.
When Nate’s face didn’t jump out at him, he blew out a breath and reread the email, his blood slowing from a class five rapid to its normal slow trickle. He wasn’t going to have to reap someone he’d come to care for.
You’ll find the list of souls for whom you’re responsible….
He reread that line. Wait. What if the lists weren’t identical? Now that he thought about it, it didn’t sound like it. He looked up at his father and brother, who were still scrolling down their screens.
“Hey, who do you have on your lists?”
He couldn’t keep the tremble from his voice, and Charles caught it, his eyes wide as he met Mitch’s gaze. “He’s not on mine, son.”
“Who’s not?” Morgan asked.
Mitch opened and closed his mouth, but nothing came out. Charles came to his rescue. “Do you have Nathan Koehn on your attachment?”
Morgan checked again and looked up, bewildered. “No. Am I supposed to?”
Charles didn’t answer him, and Mitch couldn’t. He still had a lump of fear in his throat, preventing all sounds. In fact, he was amazed he could breathe. Actually, was he breathing, or were his freakish survival abilities keeping his blood oxygenated? He couldn’t tell.
Charles clapped a hand on his back and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll call Thomas and see if he’s got his list yet.”
While Charles stepped out of the kitchen to make his call, Sylvia began clearing the table. Morgan helped her while Mitch stared into space, trying to process what they were facing. He caught his brother’s surreptitious glances and ignored them.
In four days, something big would happen on the mountain. Such a short amount of time to prepare for it, and without knowing what it was, Mitch wasn’t sure how to prepare. He’d never felt so out of his depth in his life.