Chapter Two
Phin
Aliteral cricket chirped somewhere in the office. It seemed oblivious to the fact that it was the only thing making noise. Well, it and the sound of my computer keys as I responded to an email.
It had been a few days since Morgana stopped showing up at the office. None of the reapers had come into the office, but that wasn’t unusual. With Morgana, there had been radio silence. She hadn’t responded to any messages or texts. I’d even tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail.
Was the apocalypse happening? Maybe they turned everyone into zombies. The zombie pandemic hadn’t reached the city yet. It would be on-brand for the reapers to cause that level of chaos, though. That was sort of the vibe they had, especially Ossy.
And gods, I’d been hanging out with Ossy way too much if I were using words like vibe.
Ossy. Gods, I was so mad at him. He hadn’t spent the night, as he’d promised. And yeah, that was pure Ossy behavior. He’d flaked as usual.
It was the last time. I really meant it.
And what was with that damn cricket? My gods, the thing was relentless.
I either needed to help it or let it drive me bonkers. I was already halfway to insanity anyway.
The office chair popped when I stood up. I should tell maintenance about it. It had started squeaking a couple of months ago, and now it sounded like a rusty car. Old Nelly ain’t what she used to be.
My grandpa used to sing a song about an old gray mare not being what she used to be to tease my grandma whenever her back acted up.
I smiled at the memory.
Maybe I’d wait to tell maintenance. I could live with a busted chair for a bit longer. It brought back good memories. Funny how my chair breaking would bring back a memory I had nearly forgotten.
My grandparents were the only two people who hadn’t abandoned my sister and me, at least not on purpose. They had died a few years earlier. My grandfather went first. His heart gave out. And I swear my grandmother died six months later of a broken heart.
Thinking about them made me think about my reaper co-workers. They all might have left. What would I do if they did?
I’d give Morgana one more day. If she didn’t contact me soon to say she was all right, I would email Donn for help. If she were in trouble, a god could get her out of it, right? It seemed reasonable.
There was no need to worry just yet, though. I was certain everything was fine.
The longer the cricket made that incessant chirping, the crazier I felt. My chest tightened a little at a time, out of fear of becoming certifiable. It didn’t happen because Ossy Reaper abandoned me. Not even a little.
The sound came from the corner of Morgana’s office. The little black thing, with legs bigger than its body, hid behind the trash can as if resigned to its fate of being stuck on the fourth floor with me, the assistant to the death transporters.
“Are you taking over the reaper division, little guy? If so, I’m sorry to say you’re not doing a good job.
You’ve scared everyone away but me.” Even I really wanted to go home, binge-watch Bridgerton, and eat butter cookies with the unopened jar of Nutella I had just bought yesterday.
I couldn’t not go to work, even if the rest of my division wasn’t there.
I had a work ethic that wouldn’t allow that sort of behavior.
I stood from my crouched position and looked around Morgana’s office for something to scoop the cricket into.
As soon as I moved away, the cricket started chirping again.
Morgana had left her coffee mug on her desk, so I grabbed it and a sheet of notepad paper.
Confession time. I didn’t like bugs. Anything with more than four legs creeped me out, even crickets.
And yes, I was very aware of how harmless they were.
I really didn’t want to get close enough to scoop it up, but it was better outside in the courtyard, where it could eat whatever crickets ate, than inside Morgana’s office, which probably had no food for it at all.
I hesitated mid-scoop when a thought struck me. What if the cricket was Morgana? What if Donn had done something to turn her into a bug? What if the afterlife for reapers was really reincarnation? Maybe we aged out of our jobs. If I were reincarnated into anything, please don’t let it be a cricket.
I was getting up there in age, even though I didn’t look a day over twenty-seven. My sister had started noticing. I’d been avoiding her lately, but that wouldn’t last forever. I’d have to ask Donn to remove her memories of me. That was the proper protocol for a Bureau employee.
Maybe I wasn’t old by some of the reaper’s standards.
Ossy was two hundred and two years old. That was incredibly old, especially for someone who looked like an exceptionally hot thirty-year-old.
He was way too sexy for my sanity and not at all what I needed to focus on, but thoughts of Ossy never really left me.
He was a plague. A sexy one, but still unwanted.
Not that I was focused on Ossy. He wasn’t the point.
My point was that if I couldn’t age or die just because I accepted a job in the reaper division at the Soul Management Bureau, then Morgana could have been cursed and turned into a cricket, right? That would explain her absence.
Not that the little cricket I named Jiminy wasn’t living his best life on the fourth floor of the Soul Management Bureau Building.
He very well could have been, for all I knew.
After all, he lived downtown. Up here, I could only hear traffic on the busy city street when someone blew their horn.
Lack of food or not, it was pretty cushy.
Still, Morgana wouldn’t want to be anything other than herself, in a human body.
What if the plague wasn’t Ossy occupying my every thought, but a cricket invasion? Holy hell, that sounded terrifying. If I had to choose between those two scenarios, it would be Morgana getting cursed into crickethood. “Sorry, Morgana.”
I held my breath and manifested that the cricket would not attack me if my attempt to trap it failed.
“Ew, ew, ew, ew.” Scooping it up was easier than I expected. It didn’t move at all, which was a relief.
When I had it safe and sound inside the mug, I put the paper over the top so it wouldn’t jump out, then carried it out of the office.
“We’re going to go for a little walk, Jiminy.
” The elevator didn’t take as long as usual to reach the ground level.
It opened into the lobby, but the courtyard was outside the main doors and to the right, between the Soul Management Bureau and another building that housed an insurance company’s administrative department.
As I passed the receptionist’s desk, Hale smiled. His eyebrows drew together when he saw me holding the mug with the paper over the top.
“My friend Jiminy needs a new place to hang out.” I gestured toward the front doors with my head.
“Now I’m even more curious.” Hale came around the counter. He was a dark-haired human with bright blue eyes and a pretty face. He wore a blue button-down shirt that made his eyes stand out even more.
“Jiminy is a cricket. I found him in Morgana’s office. I thought the courtyard would be a much better place for him to live.”
Hale smiled. His eyes softened. “Aww, you didn’t smash him.”
I was a little outraged at Hale for thinking I would do such a thing. Just because I didn’t like bugs didn’t mean they deserved to die. “I would never smash it.”
I also didn’t smash the spiders that tried to share my space.
I waited until Ossy got his head out of his ass long enough to spend time with me, then made him take it outside.
Ossy was fearless. He surfed in the ocean where big sharks lived.
One tiny spider didn’t faze him. He didn’t even capture them in a container.
He held it in his hand and carried it outside, which was next-level ick, if you asked me.
“Morgana’s not here, right?” Hale whispered, leaning into me.
I shook my head. “Four days in a row.”
“Ezul didn’t come in today.” Hale’s eyebrows knit, and he bit his lip. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” So I wasn’t the only one who noticed. That wasn’t good for Morgana or the rest of the reapers. What role did Ezul play, though? He was head of HR. He should have made an appearance today. Maybe Ezul wanted to keep the sudden disappearance under wraps, so he didn’t come in today.
Something was going on, and I intended to find out what, but HR was staying quiet, and so was upper management. I half expected a memo or some explanation, or at the very least for upper management to contact me. But the crickets were both literal and metaphorical.
It wasn’t like the Bureau not to communicate.
Something was very wrong. I had a feeling my division was at the center of it.