Page 111 of Finders Reapers

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” I informed him, pushing my hair out of my face.

Charon chuckled. “Yeah.” He agreed wistfully. “I know you don’t.” He stood up and gestured for me to follow. We went back through the seminar room, and as Charon has said, Mr. Hernandez hadn’t moved.

I turned to say my goodbyes, and Charon’s smile had changed into something sad. Something like pity.

“I can only apologize for the things that have happened and will happen to you, Valentina Rossi,” Charon said gravely. “Sometimes, the future is cruel.”

I eyed him in confusion. “Death happens,” I replied.

Charon exhaled a laugh. “Yeah.” He agreed. “Death happens.”

Chapter 13

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but my interaction with Charon had left me very certain that the Ferryman had placed me with Maddox and the others for a reason. I also got the impression that Charon could see into the future, and whatever he saw was not good.

I couldn’t help but think back to my first ever interaction with Charon—and how he had seemed almost desperate to make sure that Mr. Bub and I were not in the same room.

As the information about the missing and dead people crept up, each one contracted to give their soul to the Devil. I had believed that it was because Charon was running some sort of witness protection plan. Stashing all of the lost contracted souls somewhere so that Mr. Bub couldn’t get his hands on them.

I was ashamed to admit that even as the intrigue and conspiracy had been flying at my face like a banana cheesecake, I hadn’t actually cared too much about it. My entire life had been upended, and I had become numb to the idea of being a Reaper, absorbing the information, and moving on. Saving my mental breakdown for some eventual time in the future.

Every death seemed to hammer away at my armor. It was easy to feel vindicated and proud when I delivered a mass shooter to hell, but death didn’t discriminate. Even the kindest people died eventually. It was part of the human experience.

When I was alive, I had lived my life with a very strange thought at the back of my head—the knowledge that I would die young like my mother. My therapist had a field day when I had told her.

My mother was only thirty-five when she died. Though I didn’t even know if that were true anymore. Somehow, in the trauma of losing my mother to the great unknown and my father’s neglect by way of career progression, I had settled on the idea that I would die young. That it didn’t matter what I did or said. How hard I partied or didn’t, or who I didn’t text back. None of that mattered because I was going to die anyway.

I’d told Cody about my premonition once, and he had asked the poignant question: “But what if you live past whatever deadline you think you have?”

I didn’t have an answer then, and the joke was on him because I never needed an answer. The universe had proved me right.

Part of me wished I could remember my death, but if my mind was a tumultuous shore, my memory was a stalwart flood barrier that I could not penetrate.

I flexed my hands, realizing that I had been standing and staring at my palms for however long it took for me to shake myself free from my musings.

I didn’t know what had stolen my attention from my pity party until I heard the hissed Slavic accent, slightly different from Rome’s. The voice belonged to Sasha.

“You think you can ignore my calls, ?????.” She snarled. I didn’t recognize the word, but it sounded like Kozyol, and whatever it meant couldn’t be good judging by her tone. “If someone found out that I have been pulling files, I might never make it off this desk, Rome.”

Rome laughed darkly, and I didn’t like the sound. It was bitter and hopeless. “Maybe that is a good thing.” Rome sniffed. “You are not physical outside of this building, Wisp. You may be present enough to lift a phone or suck a dick, but your threats mean nothing.”

I pressed my fist into my stomach, hating the flutter that crossed my shoulder blades as I digested his harsh and nasty words. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like Rome speaking that way. He may have been brutal, like a jagged blade, but he had never been that way to me.

“I’ll just tell Mr. Bub that you have been looking into the contracted souls for Charon then.” Sasha retorted, and I could almost hear the smirk in her voice. “The demon king of Gluttony or a bearded fool with a laptop. I know which side I should be on, don’t you?”

I had the feeling that Sasha had never spent any real time with Charon if she genuinely thought he was a bearded fool with a laptop.

Rome laughed harshly. “You’re aSuka.”He spat.

“Maybe if you show me some appreciation, I will keep this secret a little longer, yes.” She trilled a laugh that was too high-pitched. “After all, what’s one more secret between friends?”

“I know your kind of appreciation,” Rome growled, his voice shaking.

I crept down the corridor as quietly as I could. I could see the edge of the desk but not much else

Sasha had climbed atop the front desk and had spread her legs to that her skirt was stretched taut. Rome stood in front of her, his lapel caught in her grip. His jaw mashed together, but his eyes were dead.

I didn’t want to interrupt if whatever was happening was what Rome wanted, but I got the feeling it wasn’t.