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Chapter thirty-one

Bonus Chapter

Halloween Day

I sis and Eugene appeared in front of a dark townhouse on a deserted street in the lower eastside in Manhattan. The streetlights had been blown out. The temperature was cooler on this side of the country. Isis wasn’t sure if it was magic or just being up north again, but the chill of the night crawled up her spine.

“Okay, that’s the house,” Eugene whispered.

“Are you sure this time?” Isis asked scanning her surroundings. “This is the fourth location we have checked in the last hour.”

“Listen, it’s not like illegal chemists register their labs with the IRS,” Eugene said, making his way to the basement entrance of the house. “Trust me, I have to check.”

Isis followed, tossing her long braid behind her.

“Yes, this is it,” Eugene announced. “Can you feel it?”

Looking around the dirty entry way, Isis shook her head. “Feel what?”

“Are you serious? You can’t feel the magic of the alchemist? Don’t you have Death’s power?”

“Eugene, can you feel the heartbeats of every person in this city? Can you feel every soul that has died but refuses to move on as they wander the city? Because if you can’t, let’s not discuss what our powers can and can’t do.”

“Ouch,” Eugene said, moving away from her. “Someone is salty today.”

“I’m going to need you to focus.” Isis turned the scientist around to face the entrance. “We are running out of time.”

“Fine.”

Eugene moved closer to the doorway, running his hands over the bricks without touching them. He closed his eyes and moved trancelike around the entrance. A few paces later, he stopped and snapped his eyes open.

“I knew it.” Eugene pointed at a small snake carved in one brick. “This is it and it’s still active. We are on the right track.”

Eugene moved back to the door and knocked. Isis scanned the streets, but nothing moved. She moved closer to Eugene and froze.

“Can you feel that?”

“Are you making fun of me now?”

“Eugene, I’m serious.” She pressed her palm on the door. “Death is here.”

“When you mean death, are you talking about your boss or someone dead, or that death is coming? Which one is it?”

“All the above.” She paced around, trying to see through the dirty windows. “We need to get inside.”

“What? We are not breaking and entering.” Eugene folded his arms over his chest. “I will not go to jail in New York City for something like that. That would ruin my credibility with the Smithsonian society.”

Isis stared at her friend, and without breaking eye contact, slammed her hand against the front door. “Oh look, it’s open.”

“Isis, what have you done?”

Eugene snapped his head in all directions. Isis grabbed him by the arms and pulled him inside. Eugene struggled to walk as he searched his pockets. The inside of the town hall was musty and dark.

“What are you doing?” Isis asked once inside.

“I’m not leaving fingerprints in this place.” He snapped a pair of gloves on, and Isis shook her head.

“This place is creepy,” she hissed.

“Don’t tell me you can see in the dark as well.”

“You didn’t get that either,” Isis mocked him, and pulled on the light switch from the middle of the room.

Eugene shoved the door closed before the light could escape. The walls of the small room were covered in shelves. The shelves had rows of jars, each filled with different concoctions. From frog legs to golden leaves, the place was out of a fairy tale or a horror movie depending on your taste.

“What’s wrong with it?” Eugene asked, inspecting a couple of jars that had appeared to be hooves inside.

“Your lab doesn’t look like this,” Isis said.

“Not the public one, but you do not know what my secret room is like.” Eugene wiggled his eyebrows, shaking the jars in front of him.

“When this is done, we are having a long chat about your need for a life.” Isis frowned and moved further inside. “This way.”

“Where are you going? There is nothing here.”

“To the backroom.” Isis pushed past a couple of large boxes.

“How do you know that?” Eugene didn’t wait for an answer and chased behind the Reaper.

The boxes blocked the view of the small hallway in the back. To the left, a set of stairs led up. Directly in front stood a black door, ajar. Isis moved through, never bothering to knock.

“I was starting to wonder if you would make it on time,” said Death, sitting at the edge of a large desk covered with papers and the dead body of Mickey.

Isis turned on the lights and smiled. “Eugene was rusty with directions.”

“Who are you talking to?” Eugene asked. “Oh God, dead body.” He rushed over to check the face. “We are definitely too late. This was Mickey.”

“Thank you for waiting,” said Isis, making Eugene spin around in circles.

“Are you messing with me? Who else is here? I know you can see and talk to ghosts.” Eugene raised his fists, ready to protect himself.

Death snapped her fingers, making herself visible to Eugene, as well as the soul of the recently departed.

“Jesus!” screamed Eugene. “A little warning would have been nice.”

“I told you Death was here.”

“We really need to work on our communication,” Eugene replied, but stopped when he noticed the soul of Mickey waving his hands through a large lever. “Is that normal for a ghost?”

“Not at all,” Isis replied, looking back at Death.

“He has been doing that since I got here,” Death explained, hopping off the desk. Her dark suit still wrinkle-free. “Refuses to move until he pulls the lever.”

“That’s weird,” Eugene muttered.

“Go talk to him.” Isis pushed Eugene forward.

“Me? You are the Reaper.”

“Yes, but you knew him. Go!” Isis gave him another shove.

Eugene adjusted his lab coat and moved closer to the man. “Hey, Mickey, how are you?”

“Umm.” The ghost turned cautiously around. “You!” The ghost rushed at Eugene but moved straight through. “You did this to me.”

“Me? No way!” Eugene backed away from the ghost.

“What did I do to your mistress this time that she had me killed? You came to claim my head as proof, right?”

“Boy, please!” Isis interrupted him. “If Pestilence wanted you dead, she would have done it herself. Trust me, she is that hateful.”

“I agree with Isis. Pestilence would never have sent others to do her work when it comes to punishments.” Death moved around the desk to inspect the body. “Besides, she would never use guns when she has so many other options.”

“If you are not responsible, why are you here?” the ghost of Mickey demanded.

“We need some answers,” Eugene said, moving away from the ghost.

“What kind of answers?” The ghost moved closer to him.

“Back off, buddy.” Isis moved in front of the ghost. “If you are thinking of possessing him, it won’t end well for you.”

The ghost froze as Isis's silver eyes glowed in the dim light.

“You can’t blame a guy for trying.” He went back to the corner to fight with the lever. “But I’m busy here, so I can’t help you.”

“We found a rare toxin, laced with the Black Mamba venom on a dead shifter in Haven,” Eugene stated. “I think it might be one of yours.”

The ghost stopped and turned around. “You found traces of the Mambas’ venom? Impossible.”

“It was well hidden,” Eugene admitted. “That combination of toxin replicated a heart attack flawlessly. If it wasn’t for Fifth’s obsession with venoms, we wouldn't have noticed it.”

“One of my best creations,” the ghost bragged.

“But why would you want to have three kids killed?” Isis asked, also inspecting the body with Death.

“Those bodies were not our concern,” the ghost stated.

“Then what was your concern?” Eugene resumed the questions.

“Haven, or the destruction of Haven.”

Death vanished and reappeared next to the ghost, hand wrapped tightly around his throat. “Why would you ever mess with my domain?” The temperature in the room dropped as Death spoke.

The ghost gasped, and colors drained slowly from its shape.

“Death, stop.” Isis rushed to their side. “We need answers.”

Death released the ghost and moved back to the corpse.

“I really don’t recommend pissing off the one who would take you to the next life.” Isis pointed back at Death.

“It wasn’t personal,” the ghost mumbled. “But Haven is just bad for business.”

“How?” Isis and Eugene asked in unison.

“Many people have made fortunes in the protection business, including myself.” The ghost focused back on pulling the lever. “With Haven, many of those people we protected found new homes. We are losing income and even our workforce.”

“So, you pay to have shifters killed in Haven?” Isis continued.

“Not exactly.” The ghost smiled from the corner. “Let’s just say all the stars lined up in our favor. An assassin with a hatred for werewolves just happened to move to Haven, where one of the older clans has made their home. We just maximized our resources.”

“Who?” Isis asked.

“Lady, I have clients to protect.”

“Clients?” Eugene looked at the corpse. “Somebody shot you. How do you know it wasn’t one of your clients?”

“Maybe,” the ghost replied. “But it would be bad for business if people knew I was spilling the beans on them.”

“You realize you are dead, right?” Isis also pointed to the corpse.

“Kids, death is only a status.” The ghost pointed at himself. “I have an arrangement with a certain devil that would secure my next existence. I can’t be jeopardizing my future for the likes of you all.”

“Unless you help them, you will never make it to your next destination, and you will wander the streets of New York City for all eternity,” Death informed him.

“You wouldn’t!” the ghost shouted.

“All Havens are under my jurisdiction,” Death informed him. “Why shouldn’t I enforce my punishment for those who target my people?”

“But, but, you deliver souls.” the ghost mumbled.

“I’m Death. I will do what I please.”

Mickey shook against the corner, struggling to make his mouth work. “The information is on my computer.” He pointed at a laptop underneath his corpse.

Eugene ran across the office and cautiously moved the body out of the way to pull the laptop out. “What’s your password?”

“It’s biometrics,” Mickey informed him.

Isis picked up the corpse's hand and dropped it next to the laptop. Eugene jumped slightly but went to work starting the computer. The ghost floated near Eugene, but Isis held him back from touching him.

“You should find a file labeled Nikita,” the ghost informed him.

“Really?” Isis asked.

“The girl thought she was all so clever, but with enough money and people, you can find anything.”

“Who is she and why does she hate shifters so much?” Isis sat on the desk.

“The norm.” The ghost moved back to the corner. “Some childhood trauma with wolves.”

“Was she?” Eugene asked from behind the computer. “You know, assaulted by werewolves?”

“Not according to our records,” said the ghost. “Something more mundane. It seems wolves attacked her family. Now she hates them all.”

“How is that mundane?” Isis asked, glaring at the ghost.

“They weren’t even shifters, just regular-ass wolves.” He leaned his head against the lever. “Who knows what would make a person snap?”

“I don’t know,” said Eugene. “Seeing your family devoured by wolves would do it to you.”

“It was their fault,” the ghost replied. “Why would you raise wild beasts and think they wouldn’t come back against you? Anyway, would one of you be so kind to pull this lever for me?”

“Why?” asked Isis.

“Like I said, I have many clients with many secrets,” the ghost told her. “I would like to make sure they are protected while I’m gone.”

“What does the lever do?” Eugene asked from the laptop.

“Set the building on fire.”

Isis and Eugene both snapped their heads towards the ghost.

“Have you lost your mind?” Isis shouted. “A fire here would take out half of the lower eastside.”

“Relax, Reaper.” The ghost waved his hands. “There is a control spell on the building. The fire will only burn this building and will stay contained until it’s extinguished.”

“Is that even possible?” Isis asked.

“It is,” Death responded. “Also, not a bad idea.”

“Really?” Eugene asked, looking up from the computer.

“There are things in this shop that should remain locked up.”

“Great, so let’s do it,” the Ghost said cheerfully.

“Got it!” Eugene exclaimed from the computer. “That’s a shame. She is a pretty looking girl to be a serial killer.”

“What?” Isis asked, walking around the desk.

“He has a picture of her.” Eugene turned the computer around for Isis to look at the photo.

“Jesus Christ.” Isis froze.

“Interesting,” said Death.

“Eugene, take a picture of that and sent it to Bob and Bartholomew now.” Isis moved to the edge of the room where the ghost was standing. “Hope you realize that deals with the Devil never end good for people.”

“Done,” said Eugene.

Isis pulled the lever and rushed back to Eugene. The sound of busting pipes filled the small room.

“Eugene, time to go.”

“With pleasure.”

“Death.” Isis nodded at her boss and taking hold of Eugene, they vanished.