Page 4 of Death Trap

That’s how everything was in the afterlife. Close to perfect. A little too much so, if you asked me. But I was probably one of the only ones who complained about such a thing. Who didn’t want their soul to be in a paradise after death? To me, though, it seemed too…fake. Even after all this time, I hadn’t gotten used to it. And since I’d been spending a lot of my time in the living world recently with the high demand of my job, my need to go back to that side of the veil was stronger than ever.

I took a deep breath and winced at pain radiating from my battle with the beast. Since I was still a spirit, I didn’t bleed and the wounds didn’t show, but they still hurt. And probably still would for a day or two.

As I checked my watch again for any more blinking assignment lights, I sighed when I stared at a screen that was completely black. While I climbed to my feet, the muscles in my butt and hips ached, and I groaned. I really needed to work on my landings when crossing over. This was getting ridiculous.

I spotted Stephanie across the docks glancing my way and looking concerned, and I awkwardly waved at her to say that I was okay. At least she had gotten back unscathed.

All in a day’s work, right?

AfteranotherHalfling attack, this time in the middle of the day, it was looking like another element had been added to my job. One I would probably have to tell Simon, my newly appointed boss, about.

It was never easy, was it? But at least it wasn’t boring. I could say that now with confidence. Although I was starting to feel like most of this craziness was only happening to me. I didn’t hear about demon attacks from Victor, Constance, Edward, or any of the other reapers in the group. Nope. Only me.

After picking up my gun off the ground and hiding it in the waistband of my pants, I smudged the circle to seal the spirit door. After going for an unexpected dip in Fairport’s murky harbor, getting Stephanie to cross over safely, and being attacked by a Halfling not once buttwicein one day, I decided it was high time this little lady needed a break.

I deserved a drink.

And I knew just where to go to get one.

“Tell me again. From the part where he picks you up and…” Wyatt leaned over the bar, his eyes alight with a child-like excitement I’d never seen in him before. He was more of an old-school cowboy, and since I’d known him, not much brought a sparkle to his eyes. Well, besides his son, beer, and the mention of his wife. Oh, and I couldn’t forget about his newest accomplishment—his bar, which he had named, unapologetically, Arrogant Bastard. Of course.

Country music twanged on one of those ancient-looking stand-up record players, and the click-clack of pool balls bouncing off each other came from the tables in the center of the room where patrons played.

“Fine, fine.” I stretched my back on the uncomfortable stool and glanced at my new watch. No new notifications blinked across the screen, so I was still off the clock and could spend a little more time here.

Adding a bit of drama to my tone this go-around, I restarted my story for the third or fourth time. “So, Xaver grabbed me and lifted me off the ground. That’s when I spotted the black hole in the center of his chest…”

Arrogant Bastard was where I spent most of my free time recently, ever since Wyatt had popped up—to everyone’s amazement—in the supernatural afterlife dimension after his orientation instead of the one designed for humans. His placement had taken a little longer than most, but that was only because he’dinsistedhe be put with the supernatural folk. That’s where he wanted to spend his afterlife, and he had argued he knew more about supernaturals than his own kind. Which was true.

Since Wyatt was a force to be reckoned with, in life and in death, he’d convinced whatever higher beings to place him here. Where he belonged. And since retiring wasn’t really his thing, either, he’d opened the bar.

Even more amazing? Although Arrogant Bastard was on a back road surrounded by nothing but trees, customers flocked to it. When asked why, they claimed because it was a little place run by a big personality.

When it came to Wyatt, that definitely was the case.

Per Wyatt’s request, I retold my story about my epic battle with the full demon Xaver. It was something he asked me to do a lot, and I didn’t mind. As long as I got a couple of drinks in exchange for my storytelling, I was game.

When I got to the part where the white light exploded, wiping out Xaver and all his Halflings, Wyatt howled with delight and slapped the bar. Like he always did. It was obviously his favorite part.

I couldn’t lie. It was mine, too.

“Oh man, I wish I could’ve seen it happen!” He poured me another whiskey and ginger ale, which I accepted happily and toasted the glass his way in thanks.

Even though Wyatt was in front of me, his soul smiling and thriving, sorrow hit me at the memory of why he hadn’t been there to witness the grand finale. He had been dragged to the side of the woods by one of the Halflings and severely injured. Helping him die and cross over was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do, and although it was my job, Wyatt was a friend and my chest still tightened whenever I recalled that part of the night.

“If I had gone through that kind of ordeal and came out in one piece, I’d be elaborating the heck out of that tale.” Marla appeared next to me, and her petite frame, lacy outfit, and perfect, bouncy curls made her stand out even more in the crowded and dimly lit bar.

I smiled at her as she climbed up on her stool, her heels not even close to touching the footrail.

“Sorry for the harsh language there.” She winked my way.

In the last couple of months, Marla and I had grown close, and I’d learned quite quickly that she wasn’t the type of woman to curse. At all. When she was alive, she was one of the most powerful witches on the east coast. A level three. She could zap the hell out of someone, but cursing… It wasn’t her thing.

In life, she had also owned a touristy magic shop, which was actually a front for the underground enterprise she ran as well. Needed a rare but powerful ingredient? An object hexed or a special enchantment done? Marla had been your go-to girl.

Even in the afterlife, she was all pink frills, strict manners, and high heels, but she was also a lit firecracker—powerful, unpredictable, and likely to set you on fire if you got too close.

And I liked that about her.

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