Jeepers Reapers: There Goes My Midlife Crisis
Page 20
Morana’s fist struck the ground and a rift split the Student Center concrete. Noxious smoke and fumes escaped through the fissure, and I wondered if the Grim accidentally hit a gas line.
She opened her fist, and as her fingers spread, so did the crevice. Flames and an inferno of heat shot from the hole in the ground, and I saw Cade yank Marcus backward in my peripheral vision. Curiosity wouldn’t just kill the cat, it would barbeque it, even if that cat was my ex.
With a flick of her fingers, Morana sent the reaper into the fiery depths, and then closed the fractured ground with a single smooth wave.
“What’s your phrase, Louisa?” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Done and dusted?”
Angelica clapped once, sealing the deal. “Good. Now we can all get back to normal.” She must’ve realized how cavalier that sounded because her face was immediately sorry.
“I apologize, Louisa, I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I know you’ve suffered loss in this, more than anyone should in the employ of Memento Mori. I can’t restore either Alistair or George, but I can make sure their next wild ramble is everything they want.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Angie. That means a lot.”
The Angel of Death waved her hand, and the campus unfroze, completely unfazed as if nothing happened.
“Oh my God! What about Marcus?” I whispered, watching him blink as if coming out of a dream.
She looked past my shoulder to him with a small grin on her face. “What would you like me to do about him?”
Angie was just playing, but that she totally got it made me happy. “Just wipe his memory of the incident like you did with Marigold and Ivy.”
“Just the incident?”
I considered her offer for a split second, but then shook my head. Wendy didn’t want Peter anymore, but the memories were another story.
Marcus disappeared with a wave of Angie’s hand, and I was almost afraid to ask. “Where did you send him?”
“His office.” She shrugged. “It was either there or the gorilla enclosure at the Bronx Zoo.
“I would’ve taken him with me,” Morana laughed, wiping her hands on her skirt. “He’d get a lesson on women he’d never forget.”
Angie rolled her eyes again. “I bet.” Cellphone already in hand, she walked away with it at her ear.
“Morana, may I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
I glanced at the unmarked concrete where the fissure to hell had been. “Angelica said reapers were entities that couldn’t die. What’s to stop that one from coming back with a vengeance?”
She looked at the spot on the unmarked ground as well. “Its punishment was inexplicably painful, and it’ll suffer that way for a while, since it takes millennia for their skin to grow back.”
I winced, and she nodded. “Exactly.”
With an awkward nod, Morana turned to leave as well. “Hey…” I called after her. “Since Angelica told me to call her Angie, any chance I could call you Rani?”
“What do you think?” With a wink, the Grim shimmered out, leaving me wondering what the hell she meant.
“Ready to go home?” Cade asked, sliding his hands over my shoulders before pressing a kiss to the side of my head.
“Absolutely.”
“I think you deserve a hot bath and a stiff drink.”
I turned so we were toe-to-toe with his hands on my arms. “Just a stiff drink?”
“I could throw in some chocolate.”
“I was thinking something even more satisfying than that.” I hooked my fingers into the top of his jeans, and a crookedly sexy grin took his lips.
“I’m sure I can come up with something…”
Epilogue
“SO THIS IS WHAT KEEPERS DO for fun on their day off.” The waves tickled my feet, as I walked with Cade through the warm surf. We’d been at the beach for a day and a half, and after the past week, it was like a month of Sundays.
He lifted my hand to his lips, the gesture as natural as breathing. “It was nice of Angie to let us take a few days off.”
“A few days? She told me to come back when we were ready.”
“Think of being a Keeper like being a volunteer firefighter. You’re always on call.”
I kicked at the sea foam. “I guess it’s like they say down under. Hatched, matched and dispatched.”
He laughed, and his gorgeous, crooked grin made my stomach jump. “Not quite, but close.”
Nothing was going to ruin this weekend for me. Not the bomb drop in finding out I was a Keeper. Not losing people I love. Not chasing a rogue reaper chasing me. Nothing.
“Don’t worry,” Cade reassured. “You’re a full Keeper now. Deciphering Angelica-speak comes with time.”
“You think? Time isn’t a luxury I’ve had in any of this Keeper crazy, but this gorgeous weather makes up for it in spades.” I inhaled the salty spray, tasting it at the back of my tongue. “Still, Morana has the monopoly on being sly, but Angie is no slouch, either.”
“What do you mean?”
“The little round music box left in the ghost box. The one that was included in my level one assignment.”
“Ah.”
I looked at him. “You knew?”
“Angie told me after the fact.” He turned so his back was to the sun, walking backwards in the surf to face me. “It was Emmie’s idea, actually. She wanted you to have a tiny piece of her as protection. In case you decided no on being a Keeper.”
“But I didn’t decide no.”
“Exactly. That’s why Angelica released that part of Em back to her, and her next wild ramble. She let you keep the music box just because.”
I raised my face to the sun and the sea breeze, enjoying the peace. The pendant at my chest was quiet, and Emmie was free. That was the most important point.
It had been a month since the first shadows crept in, wreaking havoc on my quiet life. The start to forty wasn’t what I expected. It was better, and the music box wasn’t the only thing I got to keep.
I looked at Cade with the sun to his back, and the wind molding his shirt to his chest. He was definitely a keeper in the traditional sense of the word, as well as all of the above, and for now he was mine.
“Did you pack everything on the picnic list?” I asked, taking his hand as he fell into step with me again.
“Yep. I had Solomon do it up right since our last picnic didn’t exactly go well. The basket is waiting on the beach blanket, ready whenever you are.”
“Chocolate?”
“Tons. I even added a few chocolate-filled croissants.”
Grinning, I pushed the wind-whipped hair from my face. “All papers copy, the boy learns fast.”
“Well, I do aim to please.” Even in the bright sun, his eyes sparkled with innuendo, and my butterflies answered with a little more than an average tingle.
I looked ahead to the dunes, suddenly sorry we didn’t bring the blanket, when I caught something in the water ahead.
“Cade…” I shielded my eyes, squinting into the distance. “I think there’s something over there.”
It was dark, and washed back and forth in the surf, catching the sand before rushing back with the foam.
There was no one else on the beach, and it didn’t look like a toy or a towel. Curiosity piqued, I let go of Cade’s hand and jogged ahead.
His long-legged stride caught up to me in seconds, and he stood beside me in the surf. “It’s an old box.”
“I can see that.”
He squatted in the wet sand for a closer look. “It’s pretty weathered. I can’t tell if it’s an old cigar box or something else. It’s too crusty.”
“I used to keep all kinds of treasure in a cigar box when I was a kid.” I bent to pick it up, wiping the wet sand from the rough-weathered grain with my hand. “Maybe it’s a time capsule. Or has a message someone threw into the sea.”
Cade straightened with a laugh. “You and your romantic notions. If it’s a time capsule, the people
would have buried it, not thrown it into the ocean, and aren’t messages usually placed in bottles? Hence the song by The Police?”
“How would I know?” I teased, cocking my head. “That song was released two years before I was born.”
“Ha ha.”
“Wouldn’t it be cool if there’s something inside giving a hint about its origins?” I tried to pry open the front, but the box was sand-crusted shut.
“Louisa, stop.” He took the box from my hand, and tried rubbing more crust from the lid. “I think there might be a symbol on top.”
As the outline became more visible, I stood in the surf staring in disbelief. “Cade, that looks like a sigil.”
“I know.”
It wasn’t just any sigil. I lifted my palm, holding it next to the symbol on the box’s lid.
“Lou, don’t.”
“Why not.”
“Because it’s crazy.”
“What’s crazy is my Keepers mark is a dead-ringer for that crusty sigil. My mirrored mark.” I planted my feet in the wet sand, not caring if the wind whipped every curl from my bun.
“After everything that happened this past week, my mark is still a mirror image of yours. Backwards. Tell me you don’t think this could be the reason.” I held my windblown hair back from my forehead so I could meet his eyes.
“I don’t know, Lou.”
“This is Angelica’s private beach. You really think that box with that sigil, washed up here as a coincidence?”
“Angelica controls many things, but not the ocean nor the tides.”
“I want to try and open it.”
“No!” He was adamant. “You are not opening pandora’s beach box when we have no idea what’s inside. Didn’t you learn anything dealing with rogues this past week?”
“Wow. Bossy much?” One brow went up. “Look, if there was something wrong, I’d sense it.” I lifted my pendant, letting it dangle from my fingers. “But my bat signal is as calm as that ocean.”
“Louisa.”
“Come on, Cade. Where’s your sense of adventure? You’re a big believer in meant to be. It’s how you and I got together. Or are you sorry you took a leap of faith the first time you kissed me?”
“That’s a loaded question, and unfair comparison.”
I was not giving in. “We were meant to find this box, and deep down in your Keeper’s heart you know it, too. Plus, you also know I won’t stop nagging until you say yes, so save yourself the aggravation and let me try.” I shrugged. “It might not even open.”
“And if it does?”
“What’s the worst thing that can happen?”
“You really haven’t been a Keeper long enough, or you wouldn’t ask that question.”
“Cade, this could be an old ghost box with spirits trapped for ages. It’s our sworn duty as Keepers to do the right thing.”
The sea breeze muffled his frustrated exhale. “You should’ve been a lawyer instead of a librarian.”
“Come on. Pleeeeze?”
He handed me the box, but kept a grip on it for a moment. “I want it on record that I am one hundred percent against this.”
“Duly noted.”
He let go of the box, and I did a little happy dance, holding it in my hot little hands…well, not hot, because there were no warnings, and since Morana barbequed her reaper, no hot flashes, either.
Kneeling in the sand, I laid the box flat. “Count to three, and then I’ll do my thing.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “This one’s on you.”
“Party pooper.”
I took a deep breath and then held my hand over the sigil. Was there still too much beach crust for it to work? Maybe, but I was going for it anyway.
“Here goes nothing.” I pressed my hand to the sigil, the same way I did with the ghost box at home.
The lid snicked open, and the wind stilled. Cade side-eyed the water and then me. “I warned you.”
I got to my feet and grabbed for his hand, but my pendant stayed neutral even as I braced for the worst. The air shimmered, and a form materialized on the sand opposite us.
“Holy hell. I knew it! It’s a ghost box.”
The translucent form took shape, and it was clear the ghost was female. It was also clear she was terrified. She knelt in the sand practically cowering, as if expecting a blow or something worse.
“Who are you, honey?” I asked, taking a step “There’s no need to be afraid. We won’t hurt you.”
She lifted her face, but didn’t speak. Unlike Harry, there was no accompanying spirit to fill us in, and I made an educated guess that she couldn’t speak.
“If you can’t tell us your name, is there anything you can tell us? Show us? Something that might help us figure out how to help you.”
The ghost lifted her hand, and it was my turn to be speechless. “Good God, Cade. She’s one of us.”
There, at the center of her palm was a Keepers mark. Mirrored. Same as mine. Same as on the box.
My knees hit the sand and I searched the box’s interior, hunting for something, anything that might point to her identity. Hidden under the worn lining was a skeleton key, but nothing else.
I sat back on my heels, stunned. The ghost sat as well, matching my pose in the sand, same as her mark matched mine on her palm.
“She’s most likely anchored to this.” Cade took the strange key from my hand, studying it in the sun. “It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”
I shielded my eyes looking up at him. “True, but if that’s the case, why was it hidden under the lining?”
My eyes slipped to the spirit still sitting in the sand. Her face was both drawn as well as discouraged. She wasn’t unaware. She knew what happened to her. Now it was up to us to figure it out.
“A Keeper’s soul.” Cade handed me the key, and I turned it over in my palm. “We have to find whatever this key opens. The question now is how?”
LET THE SEARCH BEGIN…
Want more of Louisa and Cade?
Want to know the who, what and why of their
next adventure? Don’t miss book two!
Jeepers Reapers: Where’d You Get That Keeper
There Goes My Midlife Crisis Series
Librarian by day. Badass Soul Keeper by night
Finding out I was a Keeper was a shocker. A freaking baptism by fire for my fortieth birthday, complete with rogue reapers and hot flashes from hell. I’m Louisa Jericho. I keep reapers away from the newly departed, protecting souls on their journey to their next wild ramble.
Sound fun?
While I wouldn’t go straight to fun, I would say it has its moments. Plus, I get to keep my day job. Research librarians have a knack for connecting the dots. A knack I hope helps me figure out why a ghost washed up on shore locked in a strange box, with nothing but a skeleton key for a clue.
Not just any ghost. A fellow Keeper.
Which is why I’m pacing a hole in the sand in front of the Angel of Death’s beach house. Who is this captive Keeper? And what does the key unlock?
Care to come along and find out?
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Hi everyone! I’m Marianne Morea. I was born and raised in New York, and there’s nothing like the city that never sleeps to inspire sexy stories and romantic suspense. I began my career after college as a budding journalist, and later earned a master’s in fine art, from The School of Visual Arts in Manhattan, but it’s my lifelong love affair with words and books that finally led me to do what I love most. Write. I live in New York with my hubby and our three children, three dogs and on
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