Diamond Before Dying (Reapers in Heels #4)

by Krumbine, Jason

  “It sounds totally weird,” Brooke said.

  “It does, doesn’t it.” He sounded a little disappointed. “I was afraid of that. It’s like nobody except the three of us would even understand it, right?”

  "Adam?" Avery asked.

  “Yeah?”

  "We don't really care."

  "Right. Sorry." There was some furious tapping on the other end of the phone as Adam pulled up the information. "Here's what you need to know about soul catchers: they're super old, technically illegal and notoriously inaccurate. Back in the day, and I mean, way back in the day. Before even, like, America was founded."

  "Is this going to be a history lesson?" Brooke interrupted. "I really don't like history lessons. In fact, I'm notorious for falling asleep during history lessons."

  Avery frowned. "You are so disappointing."

  "Don't worry," Adam assured Brooke. "I'll keep it brief and only talk about the interesting parts. So, back in the day, grim reapers weren't nearly as organized as they are now. Sure, there was the Council, but back then, they were located out of Rome, and it just wasn't feasible for them to keep tabs on any reaper that operated more than a week's travel away."

  "So, they were super lazy," Brooke said. "That's not really all that different from today."

  "Only today we have things like the internet and cellphones to compensate for their laziness," Adam said. "Reapers were trained and basically sent out into the world to do their job, with little to no oversight. In some of the more remote areas, specifically the Netherlands, there were some industrious reapers that liked to experiment. It was the usual stuff: they wanted to make their job easier, they wanted to be more knowledgable and they wanted some kind of notoriety. Exact dates and names are basically lost, but around the late thirteen-hundreds some genius built the fist soul catcher. It was a great idea, in theory. It took all the guessing and legwork out of being a reaper. Using a personal item from the deceased, you built what basically amounted to a soul magnet, that brought the running soul to you, rather than you going to it."

  "That actually sounds pretty cool," Brooke said.

  "Of course you would think it was a good idea," Avery replied.

  "Well, yeah," Brooke said. "Less work is always a good idea."

  "Brooke wouldn't have been the only one to think that. The soul catcher design became very popular and spread through the reaper circles for decades. Although it took almost three hundred years before the design finally made its way in front of the Council."

  "Three hundred years?" Brooke echoed.

  "Yeah," Adam said. "Things were pretty slow back then and, like I already said, the Council was notoriously lazy. So, they get ahold of the design and start doing some real research on it. That's when we find out there's a bit of a hiccup with the soul catcher: it doesn't always pick up the right soul. Out of six documented experiments, the soul catcher only grabbed the correct soul half the time."

  "If it wasn't catching the right soul, what was it catching?" Brooke asked.

  "Somebody else's soul," Adam said. "Living or dead. Obviously, it's the living part the Council had a problem with. The soul catcher would simply just snatch someone's soul right from their still living body and they would pretty much drop dead on the spot."

  "Wow. That's a hell of a hiccup."

  "That's what the Council said and they made the catchers illegal," Adam continued. "It took decades, but they were eventually filtered out from the reaper community. Every so often somebody will try experimenting with the design again and they'll inevitably screw it up. Which is, of course, when the Alpha Reapers usually come in and smack some people around."

  "So, let me get this straight," Brooke said, as she processed the information. She leaned against the shelf of cleaning supplies. "You think somebody in the hospital is using a soul catcher? And that's why nobody's dying?"

  "That's what it sounds like," Adam agreed. "It mean, it sounds like they've managed to horribly mess it up even more than it's normally messed up, but it fits the description."

  "Instead of grabbing the souls, it's keeping them here," Avery said. "The dying can't move on, but they obviously can't be held by the catcher. So they're just drifting back into their original bodies. That's why the victims are all technically still dead. The souls are sitting in them, but not actually inhabiting them."

  "I don't know," Brooke said, chewing on her lower lip. "So, what, we're dealing with another reaper? I mean, that's the question, right? Who else would even want to build a soul catcher? Or, for that matter, who would know how to build a soul catcher?"

  "It's not as hard as you would think," Adam said. "While we were talking I found three websites that gave instructions. Not the best instructions, but instructions nonetheless."

  "Seriously?"

  "It's the internet," Adam said. "Everything's on the internet."

  "Still doesn't answer the question of who," Brooke said.

  "Yeah," Avery agreed. "That's a hell of a question."

  fifteen

  The white haired man sat next to the window in the small room on the tenth floor of Saint Mercy's. The early afternoon sun streamed in through the partially closed blinds. The soft beeping of the life support machines had faded into the background.

  The man's breathing was shallow, almost as though it was an afterthought. He hadn't moved from his spot next to the window for hours. His legs were crossed in front of him. They felt numb from holding that position for so long, but he didn't take any notice of the numbness. All of his attention was focused on the thing in front of him.

  It was a display of sticks and twine. They had been woven clumsily together into a complex figure eight that stretched towards the ceiling. It leaned slightly to the left, threatening to topple over completely. It wasn't large, only about three feet tall. But from the ground, it felt massive to the gray haired man.

  At the center of the figure eight sat a small diamond, shimmering in the rays from the sun. It was this diamond that he kept his attention focused on. That diamond was his world. His entire world.

  The base of the figure eight was alit with small blue flames that flickered, stretching to touch the top of the figure eight, but never quite making it.

  The white haired man focused furiously on the display. His teeth ground against each other in frustration. It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working?

  With every passing minute, his anger grew.

  He followed everything exactly.

  It should have worked by now.

  He would make it work.

  One way or another, he would make it work.

  sixteen

  The Graves sisters were back in the waiting room on the first floor. Avery was pulling sticks from the duffel bag and setting them up in a simple pyramid when Jack stormed in.

  "What the hell, Avery?" he snapped. His face was red and when he talked it was in short bursts, punctuated by urgent intakes of air.

  Avery looked up from the stick pyramid. "Well, that's not really how I like to be greeted by my boyfriend. You want to try that again? Maybe go with a 'Hey, babe, you're looking particularly sexy.'"

  "Yeah, that's not going to happen right now. Because, right now, I'm too busy running around putting out fires that you keep starting," Jack continued.

  Brooke smirked. "That's going to end up being a super ironic statement in a few minutes."

  "Alright," Avery said. "Maybe you need to take a deep breath and calm down."

  "And what's this?" He pointed to the sticks.

  "It's my job," she replied. "This isn't news to you, Jack. What's going on?"

  "Funny, that's what I wanted to ask you."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Avery," he waved his hands at the stick pyramid. "First off, you can't be doing this hocus-pocus stuff out here!"

  "Really?" Brooke cocked her hips and folded her arms. "Hocus-pocus? Don't you know that we already worked a guy over for using that phrase?"

  "Oh, I know all about Dr. Burton," Jac
k said. "That would be the second thing."

  Avery straightened up, brushing her hair out of her face. "The second thing?"

  "Yeah, you two running around. Being yourselves," Jack replied a little too bluntly.

  "Okay, well this went to an awkward place real fast," Brooke said under her breath.

  Jack continued, "I've got two grim reapers wandering around the hospital, talking to and about people that aren't dying."

  "Which I'm pretty sure is what we're supposed to be doing," Avery responded.

  "Yeah, well, you're not being very discreet about it."

  "That's what you're freaking out about? We're not being discreet enough?" Avery just shook her head and turned her attention back to the stick pyramid. She slid two sticks into the top of the pyramid and positioned them at a slight angle. "I don't have time for this. Your hospital has a serious problem here and we're trying to fix it."

  "And while you're doing that, I've go to run back and forth putting out fires left and right and making sure administration doesn't get wind of the fact we've got two grim reapers roaming the hallways."

  "I'm confused, are we supposed to be grateful for that?" Brooke asked. "Because I'm pretty sure we didn't ask you to do anything."

  Avery looked at her sister. "Stay out of this."

  "Hey, what'd I do?" Brooke asked, holding her hands up. "I thought it was us against Jack here?"

  Jack pointed to the stick pyramid. "You can't start doing that stuff out in the open like this. People are going to see."

  "People are going to see?" Avery repeated. "Are you kidding me with this crap?"

  "Oh, I am definitely not kidding around here, Avery," Jack said. "You keep this up and the shit is going to hit the fan."

  Avery gave her boyfriend a frustrated look. "Babe, I don't know what's crawled up your butt, but in you case you haven't noticed, the dead aren't staying dead. The shit's already hit the fan."

  "Avery," he started.

  She shook her head and cut him off. "Nope. This is not the time or place to be discussing your issues with my job."

  "I don't have issues with your job," Jack said.

  "Could have fooled me."

  "I have issues with the way you do your job at my job," he finished.

  "Oh, that's smooth," Brooke said. "Going the selfish route. Women totally dig that."

  "We're not talking about this here," Avery said.

  "No, we are going to talk about it here," Jack insisted. "Because here is where it's happening."

  Avery knelt down at the base of pyramid and pulled out a lighter.

  Jack's eyes widened at the sight of the lighter. "What are you doing with that, Avery? Avery?"

  Avery flicked the lighter's wheel once and a tiny flame burst into existence. She held it near the pyramid.

  A ring of fire quickly enveloped the bottom edge of the stick pyramid. The flames turned from orange to deep blue in a matter of seconds, never growing more than a few inches in height.

  "Shiiiiit," Jack breathed. "What are you doing, Avery?"

  "My job, Jack," Avery replied.

  Suddenly the flames expanded and swirled around the pyramid in a bright blue haze. They pulsed and a tail of hazy blue fire escaped from the pyramid and started racing through the air for the stairwell.

  "That's my cue," Avery said and started chasing after the blue fire. "Stay here and watch the pyramid," she told Brooke.

  "Seriously?" Brooke asked. "Watch the pyramid? That sounds like the worst job ever."

  “We don’t want to burn the hospital down,” Avery said.

  “We don’t?” Brooke looked at Jack who was gaping at the pyramid. “Are you sure about that?”

  But Avery was already out of earshot.

  "I am so going to lose my job,” Jack said,

  "Well, I don't think it's that great of a loss," Brooke said, pulling out her cellphone. "I'm pretty sure you were kind of a sucky doctor anyway.

  seventeen

  Avery raced up the stairwell, her footsteps echoing behind her. Ahead of her the fiery haze that wasn't actually burning anything, continued it's way quickly upwards.

  Avery passed the sign for the second floor when her cellphone rang. It was Brooke.

  "That was super awkward," she said.

  "Now's really not the time," Avery replied, pounding her way up the stairs.

  "I'm talking about what just happened with Jack," Brooke continued, as though she hadn't heard her sister.

  "I know what you're talking about," Avery replied. "That's why I said it wasn't a good time."

  "Honestly," Brooke said, "I think we need to talk about this."

  Avery paused for a second, between the fourth and fifth floors, to catch her breath. "It's really not something we need to talk about."

  "Don't worry, it's not like he's still here," Brooke said. "He took off right after you did. So, if you're worried about talking about him while he's here next to me, that's not a problem."

  "Never even crossed my mind," Avery said.

  "You know, I said that he was a scuzzball and this kind of confirmed it."

  "It didn't confirm anything," Avery said, following after the fiery haze before it got out of her sight. "It was simply an argument between a boyfriend and a girlfriend."

  "With a lot of subtext," Brooke added.

  "Not as much as you would think," Avery assured her.

  "Are you sure this is the man you want to marry?" Brooke asked her.

  "Never said I wanted to marry him."

  "It was heavily implied in your silence."

  "Did I mention," Avery paused to suck in a gulp of air, "that this really isn't the best time?"

  "You might have," Brooke said. "I wasn't really paying attention."

  "Maybe you should try that some time," Avery suggested. "Pay attention to what people are actually saying, instead of trying to make up something that they're not saying."

  "But that's not as much fun," Brooke replied. "Can I ask what your sex life is like? Because it might have something to do with Jack's behavior."

  "Sex has nothing to do with this."

  "Sex has everything to do with everything," Brooke said. "Trust me. I know."

  "Really not a good time, Brooke," Avery said.

  "If not now, then when?"

  "Oh, I don't know," Avery gasped. "Maybe some time when I'm not chasing down a hazy flame of fire?"

  "Yeah, about that," Brooke replied. "What exactly is this thing doing again?"

  "I swear, one of these days you're going to pay attention to what I tell you the first time and it's going to be wonderful," Avery said. "I'm going to throw a party on that day. Maybe I'll even buy myself a new dress to celebrate the occasion."

  "You know," Brooke pointed out. "In the amount of time that it took you to have this minor fantasy, which by the way, in terms of fantasies, is pretty weak, you could have just told me what this thing does."

  Avery didn't respond right away. She took the time to instead breathe as she raced through the eighth and ninth floors.

  "Av? You still there?" Brooke asked. "All I'm hearing is labored breathing."

  "I hate you so much," Avery gasped into the phone. "It's a locator," she said. "It's going to lock onto reaper magic in the hospital. Hopefully it's just us and the soul catcher."

  "Hopefully?"

  "You know it's not an exact science," Avery said through gritted teeth.

  "That's true," Brooke said. "I just like to poke at you."

  She reached the tenth floor landing just in time to see the fiery haze slip through the door.

  "Okay," Avery said, opening the door. "Whatever's going on. It's happening on the tenth floor. I'm hanging up now because you're making it difficult to run and breathe at the same time."

  eighteen

  Brooke stared at her phone for a second after her sister hung up on her. Then she shrugged and slipped the phone back in her pocket. She switched her gaze to the burning pyramid.

  "This feels like t
he dumbest thing ever," she muttered.

  Jack rushed back into the waiting room. He looked around frantically before settling his gaze back on the pyramid. "Where's Avery?"

  "Still not here," Brooke said.

  "Obviously she's not here, Brooke," Jack snapped. "Where is she?"

  "Somewhere on the tenth floor," Brooke answered. "Don't worry. I'm sure it'll all be over soon and you can go back to pretending that Avery's just some secretary or something."

  Jack did a double take. "What?"

  "Oh, please. Don't even pretend," Brooke said.

  "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  "Well, that's pretty sad," Brooke said. "Since you guys are supposed to be the mature ones and you can't even acknowledge that you're lying to yourself."

  "I'm not lying to myself about anything," Jack insisted, although he didn't sound very convinced.

  "Of course you are," Brooke said. "Two years with Avery and you've somehow never actually had to see her on the job. What did you think she did? Door to door make-up sales?"

  "That's not a thing anymore."

  "Yeah, you buy a lot of make-up." Brooke rolled her eyes. "So I'm definitely gonna listen to you. Whatever. What is it? You're embarrassed by our job? You're uncomfortable with it? There's got to be something, otherwise you wouldn't be such a passive aggressive asshole all the time." Brooke snapped her fingers. "Passive aggressive. That's it. I totally forgot what it was called."

  Jack didn't answer her right away. He folded his arms. "I'm a doctor. It's my job to save lives."

  Brooke frowned. “You make it sound like we’re the ones going around killing people. Do you know what we do? Because that’s not what we do. These people are already dead by the time we’re dealing with them.”