I nearly jumped as the missing voice finally returned.

  “Oh, hey there! Good to have you back!”

  The three in front of me exchanged uneasy looks, and I couldn’t really blame them for that.

  “Pardon,” the redhaired young woman said, sounding somewhere between confused and a bit amused. “Who’s back, now?”

  “Sorry, getting ahead of myself. I’ll explain that in just a moment. Where did I leave off?”

  “You were in an alley with an unknown Reaper, which you shouldn’t have even been able to see in the first place,” Jamison said, crossing his arms. His skepticism was clear, dripping from every single syllable that left his lips.

  “Right. I was, wasn’t I? I can’t explain how I saw her or really anything that happened. I can only tell you that it did.”

  “That’s alright,” Mr. Bossman soothed. “Keep going.”

  I tried to, but it was like the scene had fully taken over my mind, and I was back in that moment yet again. The darkness of the night, the fear of knowing that something bad was going on but not understanding exactly what. Desperately trying to get the woman help, only for her to grab me so hard, I couldn’t move. It was a lot.

  Breathing deeply, I tried to push all that imagery, the smell of the dumpsters, all of it, from my mind. Mixed success on that part.

  “Well, she seemed just as surprised to see me, and I think she kept trying to ask me how I could see her, and then she grabbed my wrist.”

  “Was she trying to hurt you?”

  “No . . . but she did,” I answered somberly and was immediately transported back to the alley, remembering and feeling everything again.

  “I’m sorry,” and then pain, unimaginable pain. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think; I was just consumed by the fire of it all.

  “Hurt you how?”

  “For what it’s worth, I am sorry for that.”

  I didn’t reply to the voice and instead swallowed hard, trying to stay the course. “I think, knowing what I know now, it was some sort of power transfer. Because it was possibly the most painful thing I have experienced in my life, but then I suddenly was aware that something was coming toward us in the dark.”

  “Something?”

  I nodded. “I couldn’t see it, but I knew that it was there. Actually, it felt like a lot of things. I acted like a total idiot, screaming, waving my phone flashlight around, stomping, and just trying to be real threatening.”

  “. . . and that worked?” That was Gildebrak again, who definitely seemed less amused but also less suspicious, leaving me staring at a carefully blank expression, which was actually a little bit intimidating on the redheaded teen.

  “It did, but when I went back to the woman . . .”

  “You cannot trust anyone.”

  A voice like nails on chalkboard, but at the same time, the most soothing timbre I’d ever heard. Raspy, yet otherworldly. Honeyed and soft, covered in ashen smoke.

  “Things have just begun.”

  “She told me that things had just begun,” I tried to say steadily, purposely leaving out that first part. I figured that if she had been kind enough to give me a warning, I wouldn’t waste it by just blabbing everything to the first three mystical people I met. For all I knew, I was hanging out with some bad guys.

  Heck, for all I knew, I was one of the bad guys now. Reaper didn’t exactly imply a lot of warm and fuzzies. Then again, it seemed that the woman I’d found had also been a Reaper so . . . actually, I didn’t really know what that meant. I shuddered as I remembered the end of the incident.

  And then, her skin turned gray, rippling out, like the curse of a Gorgon consuming her in one smooth wave. I tried to scream, horror and shock lancing through my mind and erasing all of my logical thoughts. I felt fear go through me again, but there was something else. Something deep and wounded. A cold kind of acceptance of the inevitable running parallel to the fear of what could happen next. It made me dizzy, a feeling that was only exacerbated as cracks shot through the dying Reaper’s face.

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  “Hey, are you alright there?” That was Mr. Atwell, who seemed pretty keen.

  “Yeah, I’m just . . . it’s not exactly an easy memory.”

  “Especially since you have it in two different ways now.”

  I resisted the urge to reply to the voice, as I needed to get to that part of the story. I was kind of already emotionally strung out from it, and I hadn’t even gotten to the part that explained how my world turned completely upside down. I pushed on with my explanation.

  “But the woman turned to ash while I was holding her. It really freaked me out, and I biked back home probably the fastest I ever have. I felt like I needed to puke the entire time, and my head was banging, but I didn’t let that slow me down.

  “I practically passed out once I got home, and when I woke up, that was when some sort of strange tattoo appeared on my wrist, and I was being told that I was a Reaper. Oh, and I have her dead disembodied voice in my head.”

  I kind of just blurted out that last part and really seemed to take them all aback. I really didn’t blame them for it because it was pretty crazy. It was also a bit gratifying to know that even in front of mystical Reapers who dealt with spirits like the one that had chased me, my situation was pretty alarming.

  “Again, I just want to remind you that I’m not actually her voice. I’m more the remnants of her memory that work as a kind of database to guide you.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

  The Lord of the Dead’s eyebrows knitted together. “Is that you talking to it now?”

  “Her,” I corrected, not wanting to relegate my new inner bestie to “it” status. “And yes. I probably will do that more often than not because it’s easier than trying to direct my internal thoughts toward her.”

  “So, one of our own has died,” Jamison said, his voice shifting from that mean-girl cadence he’d had since I met him to something far more serious. “What was her name? Can you describe her?”

  “I don’t know the name, and it was dark. I can tell you that she was old, like really old. If she had told me that she was a hundred years, I wouldn’t have doubted her.”

  “And you say she turned to ash?”

  “Yes, sir.” That was one detail I most certainly was never going to forget.

  “Sounds like she might have been showing her true age,” Gildebrak said, now also entirely serious.

  Huh, so it seemed like my situation really was quite dire considering that it sucked all the levity out of the room. Man, talk about a party pooper.

  “True age?”

  “Reapers have the ability to choose what age they present after a certain point. Reapers often exist outside of time, so it can make chronological tracking of years impossible.”

  “We can—” Red started to explain, but I cut her off.

  “It’s fine, the voice just explained it. She’s a bit glitchy but being here seems to have helped her come back online.”

  “Then ask her what her name is already!” That was Jamison, who was just as pleasant as ever. Although he was no longer being annoyingly intimidating, it was clear that his grief—if he really was grieving—didn’t improve his demeanor. Not exactly the biggest shocker, but still, it was a bit grating.

  “She doesn’t know.”

  “How can she not know her own name?”

  “Because it’s not really her, or at least, that’s what the voice tells me. It’s sort of like an information database that came with the transfer of her abilities. It’s not exactly streamlined or even functional all the time. That’s why I didn’t know what to do when that monster chased me. She basically disappeared entirely and left me on my own. If you and your friends hadn’t shown up, I’m pretty sure I would have been worm food.”

  “So, we don’t know what she looks like, we don’t know her name, and we don’t have any other useful information that could tell us what kind of mission she was on or even what attacked and killed her?”

  “Seems like it,” I answered with a shrug. Maybe I was being a little blasé, but I couldn’t stand bullies, and this guy was really grinding my gears. I understood it was a stressful situation, but I was pretty sure that out of our group, I had the right to be the most grumpy. And maybe I was a bit biased, but I was pretty sure I was being downright pleasant.

  “Jamison, cool it.” That was the bossman again, who definitely didn’t seem exactly thrilled but was much cooler about it than the mean-girl Reaper. “I’ll put together a list of all the Reapers we've lost track of and try to see if anyone is familiar with her aged face. I think our chances are slim, but it’s worth a shot. Can you describe her to me? As best you can, of course.”

  I did what he asked, even though it pulled that scene in the alley closer to the forefront of my mind again. I really was trying to shove it down, but it had a way of slipping through my mental fingers and forcing its way to the very front of my mind. Not exactly what I would call a fun time.

  “I understand that you’ve been put in a very difficult situation, uh . . .” I watched shock ripple across his face, and it was quite endearing in a way. “I’m sorry. We never even asked your name, did we?”

  “Nope, guess y’all had other things on your mind. It’s Bridges, by the way.”

  “What kind of name is Bridges?” Jamison spat, apparently all the way back in mean-girl mode.

  “You spell Jamison with an I, and her name is Gildebrak, but you wanna come for my name?” For once, I was grateful for the weird interface that allowed me to see the little mean-girl trio’s names.

  “Jamison, you’re relieved of duty. Why don’t you go to your quarters and simmer down.” The way the man said it wasn’t a question at all. I could tell that Mr. Jimmy Britches (did Reapers wear britches?) wanted to argue back, but it seemed that mouthing off to the Lord of the Dead’s direct order was a bridge too far—pun absolutely intended. Jamison gave a short nod then stormed off.

  “He’s gonna be pissy for the next month,” Gildebrak sighed, kicking her legs idly. Apparently, her cavalier mood was back, which I didn’t mind. I was a bit burnt out on the doom and gloom already.

  “He can live with it. Just for once, try not to antagonize him.”

  “You call it antagonize, I call it not dealing with his bull—”

  “Why don’t you take our guest here on a bit of a tour?” Mr. Atwell interrupted, sounding oh so weary. That shifting age suddenly made a lot of sense. “Show her around while I get her into the system and take care of this list.”

  “Oooh, a tour? I would be honored, sir!” Gildebrak hopped off the table and gave a jaunty little salute. “Come on, mystery girl. Let me show ya around.”

  Honestly, I was pretty surprised that they were so willing to let me see anything, considering that it was clear I really wasn’t supposed to be there.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Of course,” the Lord of the Dead said, already walking away. “You are a Reaper, after all.”

  Huh?

  Well, there it was. Guess the deal was sealed, no matter what Jamison thought.

  I just couldn’t help but wonder what that meant for me.

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