“Reapers aren’t the only ones with skills.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Dude!”
“Relax.” He laughed. “I’m just teasing, but there is a slight element of coercion involved. Not what you think, but enough to make things go smoothly so George is released to us without issue.”
Angelica tugged me toward the door. “Let the man work. He’s not breaking any moral codes. Just bending them a bit.”
I looked at Cade over my shoulder at the door. “Those skills better be tucked away when it comes to me.”
He blew me a kiss, and I followed Angelica toward the elevators.
“What about Alistair?” I stopped in the hall.
“He’s safe and sound in the transport. I’ll text Cade to bring him to your place before he gets George settled.”
Guilt snapped at me at that. “I’m horrible. With everything that has happened this week, Poor Em is still at the morgue. Now George. I’ve got to make arrangements for both of them.” I exhaled a remorseful chuckle. “Maybe the funeral home will have a two for one special.”
Angelica pressed the lift button. “We’ve got both Emily and George in hand. Memento Mori will make all the arrangements.”
An awkward silence fell as we waited for the elevator. “Do you want to grab a cup of coffee or something? My treat.” It was a poor thank you, but hey.
“We can, but I need some fresh air.”
The elevator dinged at the lobby, and that same whooshy feeling I had that first afternoon at Memento Mori took me again. Next thing I knew we were on top of the Belvedere Castle in Central Park overlooking the Turtle Pond and the Great Lawn.
Shadows crept inward from the stone walls, but there was beauty in their dark corners. A sense of peace in the solitude and silence. Even with the sounds of the city in the distance, I felt a world away.
“Coffee?” Angelica asked, holding out a street cart to-go cup.
“Thanks…and I’m not going to ask how.”
She tilted her cup my way and clicked the inside of her cheek.
We stood in awkward silence again. Conversations between me and the CEO of Death Central had been all business, but there wasn’t much left to be covered about my status. Except for the fact time was running down on my decision.
“My week is almost up.” I blew on the steam from the slit on the coffee’s plastic lid, not because it was too hot to drink, but because I needed something, so I didn’t fidget.
“I’m aware,” Angelica replied.
“You know, Georgie said it was Emmie who took over Thea that night. He said so because she visited him as well.” I waited for her reaction, but as always her face was deadpan.
“May I?” she asked, motioning to my pendant.
Nonplussed, I nodded. She wasn’t going to answer the inherent question in my statement, nor would she admit she might have been wrong.
Angelica scooped the pendant into her hand, and as the cool flat hit her skin, she gasped.
“Are you okay?” I moved to pull the pendant back, but her hand closed around the oval, holding me hostage at the other end of its silver chain.
Shadows deepened, but there was nothing untoward in their feel, even as voices murmured, whispers that barely kissed the ear. They were unearthly, and when Angelica and I looked, it was my turn to gasp.
Ethereal faces formed in time and space, translucent and beautiful, and Angelica’s eyes shined with unshed tears. “Oh my God,” she murmured.
“Holy crap. Is Emmie’s pendant some kind of wearable ghost caddy? She told George it was for protection. Please tell me I’m not wearing a haunted pendant filled with attack ghosts.”
Angelica laughed out loud at that, and her grin was nothing but pure joy. “They’re past Keepers, Louisa. Each with a special place in my heart.”
The pendant shined iridescent in her hand, its light poking through her closed fingers. When Angelica unfolded her hand, each stone in the mosaic glowed individually.
“I wish Emily had told me about this.”
Irked, I puffed out a breath. “You and me both.”
“I want to know how and why she put this together,” Angelica continued. “Or maybe she didn’t, and the pendant was passed to her somehow.””
“Ask her.” Angelica’s eyes met mine and I nodded. “You’re the Angel of Death. You control the door to limbo. Ask. If Em really sought me through Thea last night, then maybe this is more than a simple piece of jewelry.”
Angelica let go of the pendant, but its iridescence didn’t fade, and when she held her hand out to the door on the top turret of the castle, the mosaic glowed even brighter.
“You’re using the castle door because it’s a convenient metaphor, right? The entrance to limbo isn’t here, in the middle of Central Park.”
She grinned even wider. “Why not? Death Central is on Madison Avenue.”
My knees went weak, and I reached for the stone bench attached to the turret wall. “What’s next? You telling me the entrance to hell is in Grand Central?”
“Don’t be silly.”
I exhaled a laugh. “Okay. Good.”
“It’s in Penn Station.”
My mouth dropped, but before I could say anything else, the edges of the turret door glowed a soft white. The door opened, and Emmie stood with that gorgeous light behind her, and I nearly cried.
She was still dressed in her same oversized fisherman’s sweater and long skirt, and her hair was braided for bed, same as every night.
“Hey, kiddo,” she said with a gummy smile.
My heart both sang and sank at the same time. Did she know about George? If not, how was I going to tell her?
Emmie shook her head, wrinkling her nose the same way she did in life when she knew something before me.
“You know about George?”
She nodded. “He’s in good hands, and he’ll be with me soon enough.” Her hooded eyes found Angelica. “Right?”
“As promised.”
“Thank you, Angie.”
Em inclined her head, and the formality of it struck, despite the fact she called the Angel of Death, Angie.
“Emmie,” I began, hesitating. “It killed me I wasn’t with you in the end. I wish you told me about all this. I could’ve done something. Eased your way.”
Emily looked at Angelica, and when the Angel of Death nodded, Em walked out of the light and onto the turret. Flesh and blood. Or a facsimile thereof. Either way, I didn’t care, and I rushed forward and folded her tiny body in my arms.
“Easy, Louie Belle, I may not be corporeal but you’re squishing me nonetheless.”
I rested my chin on her head, letting joy fill me enough to rival the light in the doorway.
Em rocked on the balls of her feet. “So, how do you like my gift?”
I pulled back to arm’s length, watching her elf-like grin. “It’s beautiful, but I don’t think I can keep it. It doesn’t belong to me, and I think you know that.”
Emily looked at Angelica. “Louisa is correct. The pendant isn’t hers. Not completely. Each Keeper offered a piece of themselves to make the mosaic. We sacrificed that part of our souls willingly, to give the next in line our collective energy. The same protections we had and then some. It’s a shield unlike any envisioned because it was done selflessly.”
“Why didn’t any of you tell me?” Angelica asked. “That pendant has been missing since God was a boy, literally.”
“You know why. We needed something of yours to make this work.” Her warm laugh touched the air. “Keeping something like this from the Angel of Death has been quite a feat, but we did it for a reason.”
Angelica and I watched Em lift the pendant, and her tiny piece of the mosaic glowed. “We couldn’t take the chance that you’d guilelessly tell Morana, and by extension, her reapers. The pendant not only imparts our collective energy, but our collective knowledge, and since it houses a tiny piece of each of our souls, falling into reaper hands would be catastrophic.”
> I didn’t understand, but Angelica’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.” The Angel of Death looked at me. “I’m so stupid.”
Emmie shook her head. “You’re not stupid, Angie. Your title is the Angel of Death, and that name alone elicits dread in the human heart, but what people don’t realize is you are actually love incarnate.”
Angelica dragged in a breath, nodding. “Thank you for that, Em. Your pendant is incredible, but we both know I can’t interfere with fate. You know what’s happening or you wouldn’t have gone to great lengths to warn Louisa. Lengths, I’m sure, were only possible because the tiny piece of your soul allowed a way to bridge realms.”
My head swam at this point. “Hold up. Are you saying the rogue reaper knows about the Keeper pendant?”
Angelica’s face was unreadable.
“We don’t know for sure,” Em answered for her.
“Look.” I paced in a small circle. “I don’t care how they found out about the pendant or if they found out about it, the pendant is going to Memento Mori where it’ll stay under lock and key.”
Emmie stopped my back and forth, and turned me by my shoulders. “Keepers are human, Lou. We make mistakes. We trust the wrong people. We overshare. We can’t know for sure if the story of the pendant found its way into history or not, but all evidence points to yes, and that’s why I needed to warn you.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “Which is why it needs to go to Memento Mori.”
“No, lovey.” Em shook her head. “Angelica is right. With all our abilities we cannot mess with fate. I passed the pendant to you, so it’s yours. It’s the way the succession was written. The pendant can’t reside at Memento Mori. It must stay with its Keeper until they pass it on.”
“Can I share this with Cade? He’s putting his life on the line for me with this rogue as well.”
“I’m sorry, honey,” Em replied. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“But Cade isn’t some random guy. He’s a Keeper.”
“Just a Keeper?” Em raised an eyebrow.
“No, but—”
She grinned at my hedge. “I think you mean no, as in not yet.”
“Em, my sex life isn’t the issue here.”
She nodded. “No, my Louie Belle. Your life is the issue. You need to keep the pendant with you until the day you decide your time as a Keeper is over. Then, and only then, can you pass it to another Keeper, or you can give it to Angelica and end its travels.”
Emily’s explanation was crystal clear. The only way to end the pendant’s legacy was for my life to end.
My choices were plain whether I liked them or not. One. Become a Keeper or condemn Emmie to perpetual limbo. Two. Carry a pendant that might make me a reaper target, or end the damn thing and myself.
Great.
Fun times at forty!
“Okay then,” Angelica said. “Louisa has two days left to decide. Until then the pendant stays with her, but hidden from sight. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Em and I answered together.
Angelica took my arm. “Good. Say goodnight, Gracie. It’s time we got you home. You have level one Keeper duties yet to discharge.”
Emmie stood in the doorway once more, her body was translucent and effused with light. “If you need me, call me, Lovey. No matter where you are…”
The door closed, and the words to “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” ran through my head.
Chapter Nineteen
I SAT IN MY YARD, lying back in a chaise. The garden was in shadow, but I didn’t mind. Shadows no longer bothered me. I knew what they concealed, but I had my own secret weapon hidden in plain sight.
Having time alone to just think or breathe was in short supply, and I relished the silence and cool solitude. Were there things to be done? Yes. As a Keeper it didn’t seem as if there was much in terms of downtime.
It wasn’t like a regular job where you had allotted vacation time and personal days. To be honest, I hadn’t discussed anything of the like with Angelica. Yet. Extraordinary work or not, I still had bills to pay.
Chewing on my lip, I scrolled through emails I had neglected the past few days. The one from Long Island University in particular. I needed to answer their Human Resources department, regardless of taking the job or not. It was the professional thing to do. Especially since Marcus was attached, directly or indirectly.
I hit reply, and emailed them back, accepting the appointment offered tomorrow afternoon. That way Alistair pops his cherry on his audit, and I get a break to think about my decisions.
The only good thing about the choices I faced was the promise I wouldn’t remember a thing if I decided this was all too much. Not that I would do that to Em. Still, it was a comforting thought.
My backyard didn’t have the same view as from my roof, but my ground-level oasis was enough. I hadn’t been up on the roof since the night after Emmie died. Cade assured it held the same level of protection as the rest of the house, but I wasn’t about to test the waters without him.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I heard Alistair’s voice before I saw him, and tracked his ghostly arc as he materialized by the birdbath between my trees. “You’re getting pretty good at this ghost thing,” I said, impressed.
“It’s not like I have much choice,” he replied, gliding toward the lawn chairs.
Angelica spoke with him when we got back to the brownstone, but the ghost hadn’t yet agreed to help our planned celestial sting, I dubbed Operation Reap what you Sow.
“You have a choice, Alistair,” I replied. “Just not one you want.”
He perched on the edge of a tufted lawn chair. “Choice. That’s an ironic description of my predicament.”
Not that I needed or wanted to play tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine, but my predicament was much worse. Except for the fact Alistair was dead.
Alistair lifted a shimmering hand, and the motion sent ripples across the air. “It’s not as if the Angel of Death offered a pass straight to the next wild ramble. She didn’t even counter offer.”
I watched him fidget. “I don’t remember you playing let’s make a deal. What offer was there to counter?”
“The Grim’s, remember?”
The sigil on the ghost box winked from the table beside me in the dim light. Esther was waiting, and this had to be a reminder to get my butt in gear.
“You can’t honestly believe a word that comes out of that woman’s mouth. Morana di Mori is the Queen of the Reapers. She is all about the win, and doesn’t care much how.”
He sniffed. “Sounds like a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. I’m surprised you’re so lukewarm about it. Being such a feminist yourself.”
“That is utterly unfair. I’m all about a woman knowing what she wants, but there is such a thing as integrity.”
He sucked the side of his teeth, clearly dismissing my argument the way he did in life. “Anyway, Angelica didn’t refute the offer, so.”
“Nor did she try and match it because she knows it’s bullshit. A ploy to claim your soul for the darkness,” I snapped back, surprised how easily he fell into old selfish patterns.
“Alistair, I don’t think you fully grasp what that means. Darkness. As in forever. This isn’t a game. There’s no gain in stroking the one you think has more influence. The only path you want is the one at the end of your audit, and the door to your next wild ramble.”
“So you say. You’ve been a Keeper for less than a week. What do you know?”
I shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t know. But I trust Angelica and I trust Emily.”
“What about Mr. Meet Joe Black? Don’t you trust him?”
The look on Alistair’s face as he waited for me to answer spoke volumes. Angelica was taking a huge risk using his audit as the springboard for me as bait.
Even in death, he was all about himself. Did he have moments of self-awareness? Yes. But clearly, not enough. Like a dumb fresh water mullet, Alistair’s self-centere
dness would jump at whatever sparks hit the water. Even if swallowing them meant death.
“Whatever my path, with or without him, I trust Cade completely.”
“Hmmph.”
A siren shrilled in the distance, and the pendant warmed against my skin. Someone had died, or was about to die, and a reaper was in fast pursuit. God help Alistair. He really had no clue what he was signing up for if he signed on the dotted line with The Grim.
“You know, whatever our past, you were never stupid. A vain, snooty patootie? Yes. Meanspirited at times? You bet. Likeable? Meh.”
“Is there a point to this flagellation, or are you just enjoying yourself at my expense?
I sat up on the chaise, swinging my legs over the side to face him. “With all your earthly flaws, you were never a fake. Even riding my ass at the library after I spurned your advances, that was you keeping it real. Did it annoy me? Sure. Should you have gotten over yourself sooner? Yes. But you owned it.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“All I’m saying is don’t lose that ability when you need it most. Like now.”
He pursed his lips, and in ghost form it looked a little silly. Not that I’d tell him.
“Are you still talking about The Grim?”
My hand slapped my forehead. “No, dummy. I’m talking about your audit. We begin in the morning. This is the chance you should take. Not signing your soul away to spend eternity chasing death. Is that really what you want? Do you honestly think there’s something more waiting for you in that scenario?”
He didn’t reply, but at least he was listening.
“You’d be a cog, Alistair. Nothing more. Morana has thousands of reapers. Hell, she doesn’t even know who is where, or what they’re doing. She doesn’t care. And she explains it away under the guise of not micro-managing the way they reap, but that’s a cop-out. You’re too smart not to see that, and you’re too smart to trade the next wild ramble on a pie crust promise.”
He looked at his hands in his lap, and when he looked up again all bravado was gone. “I’m frightened, Louisa.”
There he was. The openhearted Alistair I saw shades of all week. “I know. And I’ll do everything I can to help.”
Jeepers Reapers: There Goes My Midlife Crisis Page 16