Executive assistants shuffled papers, and the faint tapping of computer keys filled the air. Someone sneezed again and muttered something about allergies. Another person cleared their throat. It all seemed a little too normal and entirely abnormal at the same time, compared to my job on the fourth floor.
The room was an open space with two rows of cubicles. There didn’t seem to be a floor manager, though someone was walking among the cubicles. The click-clop of shoes on the tile floor was unmistakable. They seemed to be on a mission, their pace quick and purposeful.
The three-ring binder had an ominous feel to it, as if, when I opened it, it would grow teeth and bite, darkness would pour out of it, or the pages would be blank.
No one came to help me transition from an administrative assistant in the reaper division to an executive assistant. The only person I saw was the HR rep, who led me to the cubicle. His job was done the second my butt hit the chair. I was left to my own devices, which meant a book so thick it could only be meant to keep me busy. It was another check in the box on the list of reasons to get the hell out of there.
If I were to spend eight hours doing nothing, the level of crazy would be off the charts within a week. I felt like one of those road-construction workers who held the stop sign during spring, summer, and fall, when construction was at its height. That person’s job was to flip the sign every few minutes. Dealing with that level of boredom was not in my nature.
I stood, ever so slowly, peeking my head above the cubicle wall and looking around the room. Nothing stood out, but I had a bird's-eye view of what looked like a maze inside the office. The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I saw a shadow move. The entire floor felt angry, upset. Since this was Donn’s space, I figured I was experiencing his mood. The light dimmed, and I heard yelling through the closed door behind me. “Fucking reapers!”
I stiffened, and my heart raced. My instinct was to run, but where would I go? Could I even get out of the room before the shadows were upon me? Still, I had to leave. Playing it cool instead of panicking seemed like the best bet, but talking myself out of running for the elevator was tricky. I had to lie to myself, saying the danger was all in my head. Maybe it was. But pretending I wasn’t freaking out was off the table. That ship had sailed before I even entered the building.
I sat down again and willed my hands to stop shaking as I opened the three-ring binder and started on page one. That the pages had words helped calm my nerves somewhat. I didn’t get very far into my job description. I couldn’t focus on it. My comprehension was for shit. But I did need a highlighter. Pretending I was interested in the contents was key. And highlighting the text would make it appear as though I hadn’t figured out anything at all.
When I stood up the second time, my agenda was to find the supply closet, but the door behind me opened. The god of death himself stepped out.
If it had been him who had shouted minutes earlier, his expression didn’t show it. His smile was slight but still visible, and he kept his hands clasped behind his back.
His hair was so blond it was almost white, and his eyes were dark, storm clouds swirling in them. His anger thickened the air. The air felt like breathing mud. It didn’t show on his face, but it was there in the depths of his eyes.
He wore pure white, even his belt and dress shoes. He was the most put-together person I’d ever seen, except for the tension simmering just beneath the surface.
The temperature in the room grew comfortable. It cooled a bit. I could breathe again.
He stopped by my cubicle. “Hello there. I understand HR has reassigned you.”
“Y-yes, sir. Thank you for the opportunity.”
“How are you finding it so far?”
“Just fine, sir. I’m just getting started.” I gestured to the binder. “The reapers never came in, so I lacked a purpose the last few days. It’s good to know I’ll have plenty to do in this new position.”
“Right.” Donn’s smile fell. “The trouble in the reaper department is unfortunate. The Bureau will reward you for ajob well done. I sincerely thank you for not participating in the reaper revolt.”
“Reaper revolt, sir?” Was that what they were calling it?
“It seems so.” Donn’s gaze turned calculating, as if he were doing the math in his mind to determine whether the question was sincere and to gauge what I knew.
“Excuse me, sir, may I ask you a question?”
Donn nodded.
“Do you know why the reapers have revolted?”
“Didn’t they tell you?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t talked to anyone except Ossy. The only thing he said was that he wanted to come in but couldn’t right now. He wouldn’t tell me why when I asked.”
Donn seemed surprised by my answer, though I didn’t know which part had affected him.
“It seems the reapers have found their beloveds.” I didn’t expect him to tell me the truth, but I was almost certain he did.
Was that what Ossy wanted to tell me when we were face-to-face? That he’d found his perfect person. “Thank you, sir, for telling me the truth. May I ask you another question?”
Donn met my gaze. His expression softened, knowing, as if he understood that the information he’d just given me had landed like a bomb in my heart. It hit hard enough to leave an ache in my chest. The wound went deeper than any I had experienced before. Tears gathered, but I didn’t let them fall.
“What’s a beloved?” I could guess, but I wanted to know if there was a reason they would cause the reapers to revolt. Wasn’t finding love a good thing? Everyone deserved love, including the reapers. Even if Ossy would never love me the way I loved him and would move on to someone else, someone who was his beloved, he deserved love as much as anyone else.
