10. Raven
Everything inside of me screamed, It can’t be!
And yet, it was.
A zombie.
Coming straight for us.
I jerked back, slamming against the storage shelves. Mentally, I searched all the various tactics I had learned. Not a single one addressed how to handle zombies. Superior Grim had never even discussed the topic. As if zombies weren’t a thing. Only, one stood right in front of me.
“Earl, what are you doing, man?” Aoes grabbed the zombie’s arm, swung him back toward the outer room, then released. “I told you to watch the bar.”
Zombie Earl, a sickly individual with semi-grayish skin, thinning hair, rounded ears, and glossy, opaque eyes, slogged forward, his potbelly bouncing and spilling from his once white, now dirty-beige shirt.
“What the heck is that?” Chace thrust an arm toward Earl, then he turned to me and Mr. Aldine, his hands slamming to his forehead. He lowered his voice. “Is that what happens when people die and there’s no reaper to help move them on?”
An interesting notion worth consideration. I found the lumbering individual before us far preferable to the animated bodies of rotting flesh often seen depicted in human movies. What were the possibilities that the Collections Office had written accounts of similar cases?
“No, it’s not.” Mr. Aldine’s response sounded sharp and resolute.
Aoes chuckled and spun his attention between us and Earl’s movements in the next room. “You don’t actually believe in reapers, do you?”
One of Chace’s eyebrows arched.
Mr. Aldine stepped past Chace and me, placing himself between us and Aoes. “Mr. Aoes, here, was just about to tell us the full scope of the situation plaguing his citadel.”
“Was I? I figured you lot would already know, but if you insist…” Aoes flashed us a humored grin, then pointed to zombie Earl lumbering through the adjoining room. “That’s my boss, part of the ‘we’ who helped create the trench outside the wall, and he’s an MD.”
Mr. Aldine peered past Aoes to the zombified being in the other room.
“An MD?” Chace and I asked in unison.
Of all the things I could think of MD standing for, none of them fit the situation roaming through the next room.
Aoes grimaced. “Here in the royal citadel, we have several classifications of citizens. Earl is an MD, which stands for mostly dead. There’s also the PD, partly dead. And the untouched.” He tapped his fingers to his chest. “That would be me. I have yet to be afflicted by the bad boogey.”
I wrinkled my nose, and from the edge of my sight, I caught Chace rolling his eyes. “I’m sorry? Bad boogey?”
Aoes strode to the storeroom exit and leaned against the doorframe. “You know, boogeyman, bad boogey. It’s a little name I came up with for whatever curse keeps people animated in a living death state.”
Chace shoved his hands into his pockets, shook his head, and tossed Aoes a glare that made my skin itch. Chace had appeared extra crabby ever since Aoes had shown up, offering to get us through the magical barrier.
Was Chace’s mood because of Aoes, the transformation magic surrounding the citadel, or something else? Curiosity buzzed in my chest, warm and tight. My father might consider Chace an untrustworthy Badden, but I found the idea of shuffling through his thoughts deliciously fascinating.
Aoes rubbed his forehead, a look of exasperation washing over his features as he glanced at Chace. “I know they aren’t the best names for the afflicted, but they’re easy to remember, and…honestly…I don’t care what you think.”
Chace flipped his arms up at his sides. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. Your body language said everything for you.” Aoes lifted his hand and gestured to Chace from head to toe.
Chace’s rigid stance did sort of scream irritated. Sexy, but irritated. His actions and reactions appeared to betray a plethora of emotional messages.
Mr. Aldine puckered his lips and hummed. “Unusual classifications aside, are you suggesting that you don’t know what’s causing the issue with the people of your city?”
Aoes shook his head. “Not sure if I want to know.”
The screech of a chair from the other side of the door, followed by a mumble, signaled zombie Earl’s movements in the next room and pulled at Aoes’s attention.
“Win. Win. Wiin,” Earl chanted.
Aoes’s eyes widened, then he spun and marched into the following space. “Was Winter here?”
The three of us stalked after Aoes into what appeared to be a pub with slick wooden floors and warm wood and stone walls.
Lots of tables and chairs crowded the space, a piano commanded a spot against the far wall, a fireplace divided the back wall, and a long U-shaped bar ran down the center of the room.
Black iron chandeliers, dimly burning, spotted the space in ambient lighting. Stale ale permeated the air.
“Win,” Earl mumbled again.
“Sorry I missed him. I’ll catch up with him next time. But for now, why don’t you go check on the rooms upstairs and make sure they’re hospitable?” Aoes swung his gaze from Earl to Mr. Aldine. “You’ll be requiring a room…or three, won’t you?”
Most preferably more than one…if we stay.
I spared my fellow reapers a glance. The males could share a common space, but I would not sleep in the same room as either of them.
Chace motioned to Earl. “You always talk to him like that? Like he’s normal and not”―he wagged his right hand―“whatever he is?”
“Always,” Aoes snapped, reminding me of a testy dog. “He’s family. Family takes care of family.”
A frown tugged at Chace’s lips. Did his disappointment stem from the fact that Earl was trapped in some zombified state? Or did the mention of family cause him to consider his own?
Of course, that was just another question I would not ask.
Mr. Aldine dropped his bag onto the nearest table. “The need for a set of rooms is yet undecided. We’d like to take a look around the citadel first. Do you have someplace where we could lock up our belongings?”
“In a room, of course,” Aoes replied, a wide grin set across his features. “Our boarding price is a bargain. You won’t find a better deal anywhere in the citadel.”
“We’ll keep that in mind.” Mr. Aldine lifted his bag once more and headed for the exit. “Come on, gang. Let’s get a sense of what we’re dealing with.”
“Wait.” Aoes stretched his arm as if to grab Mr. Aldine and stop him. “It’s late. Are you not in need of sustenance? Food and drink?”
Mr. Aldine stopped and turned back to regard the guy and his request.
Aoes swung in behind the bar. “Inventory is low, but…” Scratching the top tip of his soft-pointed ear, he studied the inventory visible to only him. “I still have enough to rustle something up, something satisfying. And, of course, there’s always plenty of ale.”
I crossed my arms and leaned into my hip. “But it will cost us, right?”
Since showing up, Aoes always seemed to have something we might need…for a price. A salesman, a con, a thief. I hadn’t yet decided which title best suited him.
Aoes shrugged. “I’m not running a charity here. I’ve got a fine business to keep afloat.”
“Fine, indeed,” Chace deadpanned and swept a quibbling gaze over the worn and dusty space in need of patrons.
With no visitors in over a hundred years, the boarding business had, no doubt, fallen into a serious slump. I bit down on the sarcastic laugh bubbling in my throat.
“Hey.” Aoes threw his arms wide, feigning a hurt expression. “You don’t need to be so mean.”
“Come on.” Mr. Aldine headed for the door once more.
“I’ll tell you what.” Aoes leaped over the bar and dashed toward our elder reaper. “I’ll store your bags for free. Just promise you’ll consider my establishment before any other when you’re ready for a satisfying meal or a place to lay your head.”
“He’s a con man,” Chace said. “We shouldn’t trust him. He likely wants the opportunity to rifle through our belongings.”
Chace made an excellent point. Aoes might have managed to get us inside the citadel walls, but everything he’d done centered around what he got in return. Not the most trustworthy character trait.
Mr. Aldine shifted his focus to Chace. “Are you worried about him stealing your undergarments?”
“No. Of course not.” Chace’s teeth clenched.
I stifled a giggle. I wouldn’t want my under things talked about with the group, either. But a high probability existed that Chace had a secret or two hidden in his bag, just as I did. I needed to figure out a way to discover those secrets.
Mr. Aldine crossed his arms. “Locked up. You’ll store our items locked up.”
“Of course.” Aoes waved his hands in a submissive, whatever-you-want gesture.
Chace jabbed a finger at him. “What good does locked up mean when he has the key?”
My attention piqued, and goodness… Chace had now made my mission to uncover his secret all the more necessary. Surely, he wouldn’t show any concern about his belongings if they consisted of nothing more than clothing, hygiene items, and a reaper’s handbook.
Mr. Aldine’s jaw hardened. “I’ll also hold the keys to the lock. The main key and any backup sets.”
“Done,” Aoes said.
Chace scoffed. “And we’re just supposed to trust him to give you all the keys?”
“Chace,” Mr. Aldine admonished, to which Chace rolled his eyes.
Aoes’s stoic expression hinted at little emotion, although I suspected he was disappointed in the arrangement. I also sensed his relief to have any deal made. After all, something was better than nothing.
Then again, I might have misread the situation. For him, new company could possibly stand as motivation enough. After a century of the same people—or no people—any visitors in the pub or a few new faces with which to converse had to equal positive change.
Aoes led us to a room at the back. Four low-burning lamps cast limited illumination over our surroundings. Centered in the windowless space, a large table coated with thick dust suggested a long-unused private meeting space free from the possibility of prying eyes.
Visions of Aoes and others coming together to plan their next smuggling caper bloomed in my head. How much time had passed since such a gathering had taken place?