Chapter 2

Two

KOHL

I watch Shay as she moves toward home. On the sidewalk in front of newly departed witch’s house, she jogs to catch up with the cats. Smiles down at them, speaking to them in a soothing but lively tone. Telling them how things are going to be. She advises her black cat not to get any ideas about unrestricted in-and-out access, and lets her new addition know there will not be a cat door, so he’d better get used to living inside except for daily supervised walks. Despite the warning in her words, there’s no sign of her earlier annoyance about taking the Goodwin witch’s familiar. It’s clear she has already accepted the ginger tabby into her life. Her heart.

The walls she erected to safeguard herself from having visions don’t prevent her from feeling things. The aloof exterior she curated isn’t fake, but it’s just one side of her. She cares deeply for others. More than she’d like, because caring makes her vulnerable. That’s when her cultivated contentment slips into resignation, and the enormity of her loneliness catches up with her. Even then, she never wavers in her choice to remain separate from others.

I was untruthful when I told Shay I was needed to be elsewhere. Being close to her again, in physical form… the temptation to hold her was overwhelming. I haven’t forgotten the sensation of enclosing her in my embrace. Haven’t stopped longing to have her in my arms again.

Yearning. Desire. Love. Feelings experienced by mortal beings. From birth through death, emotions are what drive them.

I am not mortal. Reapers exist to fulfil an endless purpose. We do not die. We are not meant to feel.

Yet, since the moment I was drawn to Shay’s soul, I have felt . Endlessly, deeply, but only for her.

While guiding the newly departed to the what lies beyond, I meet souls in the in-between place. The rare times I need to enter other realms, the duration is short-lived. What mortals would think of as a blink.

The night of Shay’s death, I was drawn to her soul before the transition. I watched her consciously put herself in the crosshairs of a malevolent man, then lure him from a populated area to an abandoned bridge. She ran when he chased her across the run-down structure, but not to escape.

My vision is not affected by illuminance; I saw everything with complete clarity. Shay led the man directly to the gaping hole in the metal sheeting. Her path was intentional. Premeditated.

She was prepared to die that night. Not because she wished to end her life. She acted to save the lives of others.

I didn’t know her motivation until later, after I brought her back to the earthly plane. While I held her, her body shaking from cold and fear, she revealed everything she’d seen in the visions. Torture, slaughter, and other heinous acts. She’d sacrificed her life trying to prevent them from happening. And she’d failed. The serial killer hadn’t fallen through the hole as she’d intended. Only she plummeted fifty feet into the icy river. What should have been her watery grave.

A mortal’s time or method of death is of no consequence to reapers. We do not choose who lives or dies, nor do we deliver judgment. A reaper’s purpose is to guide souls to their next place. Then we move on.

I have continued to serve the Oracle, but I have not moved on. Fifteen years is nothing in the span of a reaper’s existence, yet every day since leaving Shay that cold December night has seemed like an eternity.

When I began watching over her, I told myself it was concern. For her safety because the serial killer still lived. For her mortal life, because I had altered the natural order of her existence. I tried to convince myself that concern was the embodiment of all the emotions I experienced.

As the years progressed, I accepted that my continued close observation had become a fixation. Seeing her face-to-face tonight… I can’t deny the truth that has been there all along. The feelings I have go much further than concern or fascination.

If I stopped watching over her now, would my feelings disappear? She doesn’t require my guardianship. The Oracle’s magic protects this town—and others like it—from evil and violence. Shay is safe here. And, as the Oracle hasn’t corrected my unauthorized action of returning Shay’s soul to her body, it seems unlikely to happen. Though, that does raise other concerns for the future of Shay’s soul.

Awareness that I am needed draws me to the in-between, the natural plane of existence for reapers. Its purity and light fill me with peace and purpose. This is where I belong. But not where I want to be.

SHAY

Is it in poor taste to thank Minerva Goodwin for dying on a Saturday when it’s more convenient for me? Probably, but I also think the old woman would appreciate me being real with her, even in death, so I light a circle of candles in my living room and send out my message. Whether she receives it or not, is another matter.

I don’t have normal magic like the other witches in the Winterlock coven do. Like witches in the Goodwin coven do. No, I’m the “once in each generation” Winterlock witch born with seer magic. And only seer magic. Meaning it’s anybody’s guess if my attempt to contact Minerva on the other side has the desired effect. Or any effect, aside from giving my living room some nice ambiance for a short period of time.

Even though I didn’t want her cat, I thank her anyway. If Cookie really is a familiar—which I remain skeptical about after watching him do nothing but loaf his ginger butt on my couch all day—the gift is a significant gesture between witches. Hell, even if he’s not a familiar, it’s still a big deal. I know how much Minerva loved that cat.

Since my concerns about Rune and Cookie not getting along were put to rest before the new besties set their combined eight paws inside the house, I leave them zonked, side by side, in a swath of afternoon sunlight, then head out.

The walk to downtown takes ten minutes. The shops are all open and bustling, as is the norm. The temptation to duck into The Brew and grab a coffee almost wins, but I force my legs to stay on course and walk past the coffee shop instead. It’d be too easy to step behind the counter and help “just for a second,” which would become an hour or more before I know it. The weekend crew is great and they don’t need my assistance. I’d only be doing it to avoid making nice with Lexi Goodwin.

Sighing, I focus on Lexi’s green-and-purple storefront with its gold Every Witch Way window decal. The sight of it has the usual effect, making me prickly and sour. I’m self-aware enough to acknowledge that my beef with Lexi is rooted in my personal bitterness. While my family’s coven has abided by long-held witchcraft rules, the Goodwins have not. They’re not bad witches, just…self-serving.

Lexi’s business is a prime example. She infuses her products with magic, then sells them. Not just locally, either. To humans outside of Fate’s Falls. She gets away with it because the Goodwin coven as a whole paid the price for profiting from their magic generations ago. They don’t have bright-green skin because they’re nature-centric witches. Their skin is green for greed. And Lexi doesn’t give even a sliver of a fuck. In fact, she’s one of the happiest witches I’ve ever met.

Of course she is. Strong magic, thriving business, popular around town. She’s living her best life. No holds barred.

It’s a wonder my skin hasn’t turned green—with envy.

Drawing in a deep breath, I open the door and step inside. There are no customers at the moment, thank goddess. Having this conversation is awkward enough, I don’t need an audience for it.

In all my years living here and working nearby, I’ve never been in Lexi’s store. It’s as colorful as a box of crayons and loaded with merchandise. Merchandise being sex toys. There are literally dildos everywhere. Not your run-of-the-mill dildos. Every size, shape, and color imaginable line the shelves. Some of them are human shaped, but most are not. I have no clue what species some of them are, honestly.

“Well, color me surprised!” Lexi says from behind the service counter. “Pleasantly surprised, of course,” she adds, coming out to smile at me from the other side of a double-sided shelving unit that stands about chest height for us both. “What brings you in today? Personal shopping, gift shopping, or did curiosity finally kill the cat?” She winks. Not a hint of animosity toward me, despite the groundless cold-shoulder treatment I’ve given her for a decade and a half.

“None of the above, though it does have to do with a cat.”

Lexi’s black eyebrows rise as she leans over the shelf, folding her arms along the top. Casual and friendly. “Now I’m the curious one.”

Well, that’s not a good sign. “I’m here about Minerva’s cat.”

Lexi straightens, her features losing their light, carefree expression. “Oh no, did something happen to Cookie?”

“Not in the way that you mean.” I thought this conversation would be a quick formality. Hey, I’ve got your great-aunt’s cat because she wanted me to take him. Very sorry for your loss. Bye. Instead, I’m the bearer of the bad news. It didn’t cross my mind that Lexi wouldn’t know Minerva had passed, but it should have. The old woman only died last night. Of course, Lexi doesn’t know yet.

I’ve been wearing gloves around people for fifteen years. Long enough that I don’t even notice them anymore. But I’m plenty aware of the thin leather right now. The comfortably snug fit suddenly feels restrictive. Removing them isn’t on my personal options list, so I rub my palms against my hips to get some relief from the sweaty itchiness.

“Shay?”

Well, shit. Guess I’m doing this. “I take my cat Rune out for a walk in the neighborhood early in the mornings, before anyone’s out and about. Cookie is frequently hanging out in your great-aunt’s yard, and today was one of those times, but Cookie wasn’t the only creature we happened upon at Minerva’s house. A reaper was there. He was waiting for me, specifically, so he could deliver a request from your great-aunt that I take Cookie…” Goddess, this sucks. “Because your great-aunt has passed on.”

Lexi just blinks. And blinks.

Is she going to cry? Even if we were friends, I don’t have the tools to deal with tears. It’s not like I can hug her to give comfort. Too much risk of direct skin contact. “I’m very sorry for your loss. And that you had to hear the news from me. Is there anyone you want me to call for you? If you give me a list, I’ll tackle it when I get home. I don’t work weekends, so I’m available to help.” Not what I planned to say. Or do. But it’s the right thing.

Long ebony waves shimmer as she shakes her head. “Thank you, that’s very kind, but I’ll take care of everything from here. And don’t feel bad about delivering the news. Losing Minerva is sad, of course. But she had a long, happy life, and I know she was ready to go to the other side and reunite with coven members who’ve already moved on.”

“That’s what Kohl said, that Minerva was ready and at peace.” When Lexi tilts her head, I add, “Kohl is the reaper who guided her.” There’s a brief moment where I swear that I can see the wheels turning in Lexi’s head. The familiar glint of mischievousness in her eyes.

Then she blinks again and the less-characteristic seriousness is back. “I appreciate you coming to see me in person, Shay, and so quickly. On that note, though, I better close the store and head over to Minerva’s place. Stubborn woman always refused to get air conditioning installed in that house, and it really gets cooking in there on a warm day. She’d haunt me forever if I left her to bake. Isn’t that right, auntie?” she says with affection, looking up and around.

“Is Minerva’s spirit here now?” No point in pretending I’d know. Lexi is aware that I’m a witch with almost no magic.

Meeting my gaze again, Lexi shrugs. “Not that I can tell. But communing with the departed has never been in my wheelhouse. My grandmother had the skill, but she’s been gone for a couple of years. She and Minerva are probably having a grand old reunion on the other side.”

Now that we’re having an actual conversation, I see why everyone likes Lexi. Even now, having just lost a member of her family, she’s easygoing and has a sense of humor. If I hadn’t spent the last decade and a half being pissy because she has no issue profiting from her magic, we might even have become friends. Probably still could, since we share some mutuals.

Too bad I can’t see my future. It’d sure be nice to know what fate has in store for me now.

I hook a thumb toward the shop’s door. “I’ll head out so you can close up. If you need me for anything, I’m not far from your great-aunt’s house and I’m happy to help if you need it. Today or whenever.”

“Thanks, Shay.” Before I reach the door, she says, “Hey, you said it was the reaper who told you Minerva wanted you to take Cookie. She never told you her plans beforehand?”

Resting my fingers on the door handle, I turn to face Lexi. “Nope. It was totally unexpected when Kohl told me, because Minerva never mentioned it, not even vaguely. And we’ve had some lengthy conversations over the years.”

“Oh, I’m aware. She liked to flash that info at me like a premium guilt card whenever I was too busy to say yes to her invitations to visit.”

“I can totally picture her doing that, since many of our longer visits were the result of her using a guilt card on me,” I say, shaking my head. Smiling a little. “But I never really minded. Your great-aunt was an interesting lady. I liked her, and I’ll miss her.”

“Me too.” The smile Lexi gives me makes me feel like maybe this is a genuinely friendly interaction, not just a formality conversation. “You’re okay with taking Cookie? I’d offer to step in, but as I’m sure you know, he’s a familiar, and there are some traditional practices even I don’t break.” She taps an index finger on her green cheek. “Despite being a naughty Goodwin witch.”

I’m pretty sure her magic doesn’t include telepathy, so there’s no way she could know my reason for avoiding her all this time. Either she got the sense that I looked down on her, which I did, or she’s simply poking fun at her coven’s history of playing fast and loose with the rules. Either way, she’s the bigger person. But I’m ready to level up. Maybe not all the way, but start the climb.

“Cookie has already made himself comfortable at my place. I wasn’t sure he and my cat were going to get along because they’ve always been hissy toward each other when we crossed paths, but as soon as I told Kohl that Cookie could come with me, the cats seemed to be instant best buddies. I didn’t know Cookie was a familiar, though. Minerva never mentioned that.”

“That’s the second time you’ve called the reaper by name,” Lexi says, ignoring the rest of my comments. The ankle-length open black vest she’s wearing over a formfitting black jumpsuit flows out gracefully as she walks toward me. By the time she’s in front of me, her dark eyebrows are arched high above glittering green eyes. “I’ve never met a reaper, and I’ve also never heard anyone refer to them by personal names. How well do you know him?”

I’m a maintain-eye-contact person, but I can’t help glancing around Lexi’s store. It’s no secret that all the monster dildos she sells are created from actual beings. Rumor has it, nonhumans willing to have molds taken of their equipment are paid well. An upfront fee plus royalties. And the shop in Fate’s Falls isn’t where she and her models are making bank. It’s Lexi’s online business that’s booming. Humans can’t seem to get enough artificial monster dick.

Which begs the question: is her interest in Kohl genuine curiosity, or is she calculating the potential revenue from selling genuine reaper dildos to the human masses beyond Fate’s Falls’ boundaries? My goal to be less resentful toward her doesn’t include helping her profit from Kohl’s anatomy, whatever it might look like.

“I’ve met him twice,” I say when I meet her eyes again. “Once, a long time ago, and again this morning, in your great-aunt’s yard. There’s nothing more to tell.” Nothing more I’m willing to share with Lexi, certainly.

Her long, dark-purple lacquered fingernails drum on her hips. The witch is clearly not buying what I’m selling.

That’ll teach me to let my guard down around her. I let sympathy make me soft. “The offer to help with Minerva’s arrangements stands. And if there’s anything I should know about Cookie, you can either track me down at my house or at The Brew , Monday through Friday, during the day shift.”

“I’ll do that,” she says, waving as I open and step out the door. “See you soon, Shay.”

I have a feeling those aren’t casual words. And that I may end up regretting my decision to be more open-minded where Lexi Goodwin is concerned.