Styx & Stoned (The Grim Reality Series Book 2) (6 page)

I claimed the seat beside Nate and
Mara sat next to Cam. Six seats were still empty, and I didn’t know if Tabris
or anybody else would be joining us.

“So,” Nate said, “what did you two
do this morning?”

Mara cocked her head and sneered.
“What did we do? We got Jimmied, Nate. That’s what we did.”

“Jimmied?” Cam cleared his throat,
obviously trying to repress his smile. “Would that be the infamous Jimmy from
the
following the rules for newbies
class?”

“The same.” Mara dug into the
breadbasket and pulled out a roll. “As if you didn’t know.”

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Nate
asked, his mouth stretching into a smile.

“Yes, it was that bad, Nate.” I
glared at him. “No woman should ever be subjected to Jimmy.” I followed Mara’s
lead and chose a fat onion roll. “Now I need to shower again.” I bit into the
bread, more out of irritation than hunger, and chewed. “You set me up and I
will get you back.”

Nate held up his hands in defense.
“All I did was tell you about the class.”

“Total manipulation.” I jabbed my
roll at him. “You knew I’d take the bait if you threw in that Constantine
didn’t believe I’d go.”

“It’s not my fault you have a need
to prove yourself.”

I glared at him. “Gee, I wonder
why?”

When I first became a reaper, Nate
took every opportunity to let me know he didn’t think I’d make it. Over the
past months I’d proven I could do the job. Unfortunately my successes had been
littered with just as many screw-ups. What did he expect? Most of the time I
was reaping idiots. I never knew whether they’d cooperate and transfer without
any trouble, or if I’d end up chasing them through the Alaskan wilderness.

Deciding I didn’t want the
conversation to continue in the same vein, I switched topics. “Hey, I was in
one of the bathrooms on the fifth floor and I met a ghost.”

“Did you reap her?” Nate asked.

“No, she’d already been reaped.”

His quasi-interest ratcheted, and
his eyes cut to me. “Already been reaped?”

I nodded.

“Then why was she in the bathroom?”

“I think the better question is
how
,”
Cam said.

“Exactly.” The thought of spirits
seeping onto our physical plane made the bread turn sour in my stomach. I set
the roll on a small white saucer. “She said she’d been waiting in line for the
ferry, it started getting crowded, and then
poof
, she was in the
bathroom.”

“That’s not good.” Mara folded her
arms over her chest and crossed her legs, settling against the chair. “I think
Tabris is off on his timeline, and spirits are already crossing back over.”

“I agree,” I said. “It sounded like
Estelle, the ghost in the bathroom, got squeezed out. From what she said, she
wasn’t doing anything but standing in line.”

A spirit passed through the kitchen
door, gliding through the tables, and out of the banquet room.

“Maybe all these ghosts loitering
about isn’t so natural for Vegas,” I said.

“You might be right.” Nate stood.
“We need to tell Tabris. Maybe he has an emergency plan.”

“If he doesn’t,” Cam said, “I think
we can count on putting in some overtime.”

I watched Nate stride out of the
room, the sinking weight of responsibility pushing against my shoulders. I’d
been in Las Vegas less than twenty-four hours and already I was embroiled in an
epic crisis. I picked up my roll and shoved the rest in my mouth. It just
frickin’ figured.

The luncheon started on time with
no indication of trouble. GRS employees chatted with their tablemates, seemingly
clueless about the banks of the River Styx backing up like faulty plumbing.
Speakers droned on about the mission of GRS, our role in the great corporation,
blah, blah, blah. I fidgeted in my seat, unable to concentrate on anything they
said. The longer I sat, the more anxious I became.

Dozens of questions popped into my
mind. Which spirits were spilling back to the physical plane? Violent
criminals, grandmothers, children? Was there any kind of filter for those who
were freed? When the other reapers caught wind of the problem, they still
wouldn’t be able to reap. There was no room on the banks. Maybe, by some
miracle, we’d coax Charon back to Styx before things got out of control,
but…what if we didn’t?

“Ms. Carron?” A thin Asian man
leaned next to my ear. “Mr. Tabris would like you and Ms. Mara to join him in
his office after the luncheon.”

I turned my head, looking into the
black gaze of Tabris’s assistant. He hadn’t
asked
if we would go, and I
wasn’t about to tell a high-powered angel, and my big boss, no. I nodded. “Of
course.”

The man straightened and strode
back to Tabris, delivering the message.

Hoping Nate had a better handle on
the situation than I did, I turned to him “Why do you think he only wants to
talk to Mara and me?”

Nate watched Tabris for a few
seconds before replying. “I don’t know.” His expression relaxed, and he smiled.
The action was forced, not making me feel any better about the upcoming
meeting. “It’s probably nothing, maybe just an update on Hal.”

Even as he offered an explanation,
I could tell Nate didn’t believe it—neither did I. Whereas my stomach was a
jumble of nerves, Mara appeared cool and collected, as always. I’d only known
her for a day, but doubted there was much that flustered the demon. I wished
some of her coolness would rub off on me.

When all the speakers were
finished, and the attendees began filing out of the banquet hall, Mara and I
followed the flow. For once the slow moving crowd didn’t bother me. Something
about being summoned didn’t sit well. I hoped Tabris was going to simply update
us on what he wanted, or the situation, but the fact that Cam and Nate hadn’t
been ordered to come made me uneasy.

“Is it just me, or is this weird?”
I asked.

Mara glanced at me. “Weird is a
relative term when it comes to the ethereal administration.” We skirted a group
of GRS employees, chatting about the inspirational messages at the luncheon.
“Totally clueless,” she mumbled.

“Blissfully ignorant,” I added.
“Must be nice.”

Several corridors and turns later
we stopped in front of the set of golden doors. Mara raised her hand, preparing
to knock. “Ready?”

No, but that wasn’t an option.
“Yep.”

She rapped and the door instantly
opened. Tabris’s assistant ushered us into the room, sealing the door behind
us, and then left through another door located behind one of the pillars. In
the semi-circle of overstuffed chairs and settees sat eight people.
Immediately, I could tell they weren’t reapers. An air of authority surrounded
the group, as if they had the right to openly assess Mara and I as we edged
into the room. The urge to grab her hand like a scared child made my fingers
twitch but I repressed the impulse, not wanting to look like a wuss.

The hair on the back of my neck
prickled, which usually meant trouble or the presence of supernatural beings. I
figured it was fairly safe to assume this was some kind of ethereal council. I
just hoped Mara and I weren’t getting voted off the island.

I glanced at her. As usual, she was
the vision of cool, but I did notice her spine stiffened slightly when she
first saw the collected group. She must have recognized them for what they
were, which meant once again, I was the least informed. Typical.

When we stopped in front of the
gathered group, Mara bent in a low bow, lasting a good five seconds. Not
knowing who these people were, but figuring better safe than sorry, I mirrored
the demon’s action. When she rose, so did I. Still the people didn’t speak,
which I found very rude. Maybe that’s because I have a tendency to over talk in
awkward situations. Fill the silence—that’s usually my modus operandi.

A door to the right slammed,
jerking my attention away from the unwavering stares. “Oh, good,” Tabris said,
striding toward us. “You’re here.”

“Sorry if we kept you waiting,” I
said, not meaning it. The less time we had to spend with this group, the
better. “We had to fight the luncheon crowd.”

“You’re right on time.” He stopped
beside me. “Lisa and Mara, I’d like to introduce you to the GRS board of
directors.” Pointing to two women and two men sitting to the right, he said,
“These are Heaven’s members.” Then he indicated the group to the left, also two
women and two men. “And Hell’s members.”

“Really?” My eyes widened. I
couldn’t help it. Every time I blinked, somebody hit me with new information a
low-ranking reaper shouldn’t be privy to. I shook my head. “I never knew there
were so many representatives from—” Even though Tabris had just described them
as Hell’s members, I couldn’t force the H-word out. Like an idiot, I simply
pointed to the floor.

That drew a smile from an
elegant-looking man on Heaven’s side of the grouping. “I’m sure you’ve heard
the phrase, ‘there would be no good without evil.’”

I nodded.

“This is one of those
circumstances. We work together for the greater good.”

“Wow, that is so not what I was
raised to believe,” I blurted.

“Hollywood,” Tabris said. “The
truth is boring and wouldn’t put butts in the seats, so they embellish the
situation.”

“You’re probably right, but…” I
contemplated the stories I’d grown up believing. “I think the real reason
people cling to the good and evil battle is because they need a clearly defined
villain, hero, and solid guidelines to live by.”

“I couldn’t have said it better.”
Tabris indicated two empty seats at the end of the half circle and then pulled
up a chair for himself. He sat and smiled at me. “Please, sit.”

As I took my seat, I chanced
another look at the gathered group. There wasn’t a single thing that
distinguished Heaven’s reps from Hell’s. No horns or halos. No pitchforks or
harps. Even one of Hell’s reps was dressed all in white, totally blowing my
perception of Hell’s minions out of the water.

“So...” I shifted in my seat. “Have
we done something wrong?”

“Not at all.” Tabris gestured
toward the group. “As you know, the situation with Charon is escalating.
Already the spirits are filtering back, which means the riverbanks are full,
and no more spirits can be delivered.”

“The longer those souls remain
undelivered, the greater the chance of being claimed by rogue demons,” said a
young woman from Heaven’s side. “Balance between good and evil will be lost,
which could set events in motion that we won’t be able to recover from.”

“That’s why we need to take
preemptive action,” Tabris said.

“What kind of preemptive action?”
Mara asked, echoing my own question.

“We—” he swooped his hand around
the circle, “—need your help.”

My gaze skated to the silent group.
All sixteen eyes were leveled on me, and I suddenly knew what a deer in the
headlights felt like.

“Of course, we’ll help any way we
can.” I managed a half-smile, which none of the group returned, and then faced
Tabris. Keeping my train of thought was a lot easier if I focused on him. “But
shouldn’t Nate and Cam be here, too? Personally speaking, Nate is a lot better
at this kind of thing than I am.”

“No,” said the woman dressed in
white. “Right now, you are the only one who can help us keep this contained.”
Even though she spoke softly, her silvery-blue gaze speared me. This was a
woman who didn’t take crap from anybody or hear the word
no
very often—if
ever. “We also have need of Mara and her knowledge about the River Styx.”

We looked at each other, Mara’s
signature eyebrow arching in a silent
WTH
.

“What we are asking of you is a
little unorthodox,” Tabris said. “But desperate times call for thinking outside
the box.”

“What is it you want me to do?” A
thousand possibilities popped into my head—none of which I liked. “This doesn’t
involve seducing Charon, or traveling into the bowels of Hell, does it?”

“Nothing like that, Lisa.” He gave
a disingenuous chuckle that raised my first row of defenses. With deliberately
slow movements, Tabris folded his hands in his lap and swiveled in his seat,
giving me his full attention. A lazy smile coupled with the slight tilt of his
head was his attempt at reassurance through body language. Warning sirens went
off in my head. Whatever bomb he was about to drop, I knew I wasn’t going to
like it.

He inhaled, and I braced myself.
“We need you to ferry the dead.”

His words bounced right off my
head, refusing to sink in. “Come again?”

“Charon has made no move to return,
and someone needs to start ferrying the dead across the river.” The deep voice
of the large black man, one of Hell’s reps, cut through the room. He placed his
ankle across his knee and draped his arm across the back of the brocade chair.
“At this time, you are the only person capable of running the ferry.”

“Me?” He’d said that like I was the
obvious choice, which was ridiculous. A doughnut eating contest, I’m in. A
sci-fi movie marathon, again, I’m your girl. But ferrying the dead, not so
much. “I’ve never driven a boat in my life. I mean, there was that one time I
took a day cruise on Prince William Sound, but I didn’t drive the boat.” I
pressed my hand to my stomach. “I get seasick.”

“None of that matters,” a
white-haired woman from Hell’s team stated. “And Mara will help you navigate
the waters.”

“We are both happy to do our part,”
Mara said, “but with all due respect, asking something like this from us raises
a lot of questions. At the very least, I think we deserve to have them
answered.”

Go, Mara.

“I understand.” Tabris’s smile was
placating, but from the tight press of his lips and touch of coldness in his
eyes, I could see he was running out of patience. “We don’t mean to appear
callus. It’s just that the situation is rather dire and getting worse by the
minute.” He held out his hand toward Mara. “Please, ask your questions.”

“Styx is treacherous for souls.
Many are lost, even when Charon is ferrying. Why would you put the fate of
thousands of souls in our hands?”

Okay, so my concern had been about
why they’d asked me to ferry, not about losing souls. Treacherous river? That
sounded horrifying. A wave of nausea to rolled through my stomach. Talk about
pressure.

“Yeah, that’s a good question to
start with,” I said, trying to sound unrattled.

“At this point we have no other
choice.” Tabris swiveled a few inches more to directly face me. “There are
things about you, Lisa, that make you the only reaper for this job. I’m not at
liberty to discuss that right now, but let me reassure you, you’re quite
capable of doing this.” Next he turned to Mara. “You offered to ferry when we
first talked because you know the route and dangers. Lisa will need your help.”

“The most important thing right now
is to keep as many souls safe,” said the woman in white. “And we need to do it
as quickly and quietly as possible.”

I flinched. “You mean not tell Nate
or Cam?”

“I mean,” she tilted her head
toward me, “telling no one.”

“We’re supposed to help in the
search for Charon and convincing him to return.” I wiggled a finger between
Mara and me. “How do you suggest we explain our absence?”

“You won’t have to.” Tabris
shifted, addressing the group again. “When you pass through the gates to the
shores of Styx, time stops. You will return at nearly the same moment you left.
Nobody will ever know you departed.”

“Seriously?” I aked. Man, the
things I could do with the ability to stop time. Exercise, read the stack of
books next to my bed, learn to play the guitar, while still maintaining my schedule
as maid, chauffer, and chef. “They’ll never miss us? Never know?”

“The only way would be if somebody
saw you leave or arrive, or if you tell them,” Tabris said. “Which I highly
suggest you don’t.”

“Yeah, of course.” I gave Mara a
questioning glance. She shrugged, obviously as clueless about the situation as
me. “So, just how do we get to the River Styx?”

For the first time since I’d met
Tabris, the angel appeared wary. He gave me a tight, humorless smile. “Hal.”

“No.” The word popped out of my
mouth before the wisdom of contradicting the board’s order registered. “I
mean,” I said, backpedaling, “I thought he hated Charon. Why would he agree to
help?”

“Perhaps he won’t,” Tabris’s gaze
darted to the far corner of the room for several seconds and then back to me.
“But, it would be best for everybody if he willingly agreed.”