“If there isn’t something besides bodies in that one, I’m going to be very disappointed,” Storm told me. “I mean, really, what kind of Grim Reaper doesn’t have at least one sinister thing in his secret stash?”
I was ready to go. For some reason I felt like I’d been in a ten-round boxing match and my body took most the hits.
I opened the door.
There was no body hanging inside. It wasn’t a closet.
It was a room.
“It’s a secret lair,” Storm whispered.
I rolled my eyes and walked forward into the room. It looked like a mini apartment. The room was a large rectangle and off to the right was a couch, two upholstered chairs, and a round coffee table. On the wall was the hugest flat-screen TV I’d ever seen.
Off to the left was a small kitchenette, but it looked like it was never used. Everything was brand new and looked untouched.
But it wasn’t dusty.
If this was a place he never used, then it would be dusty; it would smell stale and vacant.
It didn’t.
“Ugh, Charming, You might want to look at this.”
There was a small door leading out of the space. Presumably to a bedroom. But I wasn’t concerned with how the room was used or decorated, but rather what was coming out of it.
It was a soul.
It looked just like Storm. Except it was bright pink.
The soul stopped just inside the room—just hovering there like it was shocked to see us.
Hell, it couldn’t have been as shocked as we were.
Nowthiswas interesting. In all my years, this was the first time I ever saw a soul wandering around—besides a Ghost Escort.
“Is it a Ghost Escort?” I asked Storm.
“Couldn’t be. All of us are black and that is clearly not black.”
“You’re just like me,” the soul said, floating a little closer to Storm. It had the voice of a woman. She seemed surprised to see someone like her.
Clearly she could talk. I guess that wasn’t a surprise, considering the rest of us could talk when we weren’t inside a body.
“No body here either,” Storm agreed.
“Are you here to bring me a body?”
I glanced at Storm. She was waiting for a body?
“Uh,” I began, for once not being able to come up with a rapid reply.
“Not that it matters,” she said. “I probably won’t be able to get inside that one either.”
This just kept getting better and better.
The Grim Reaper was harboring the soul of a woman who, of her own admission, couldn’t manage to get into a body.
“You can’t get into a body?” Storm said, intrigued. “That’s like G.R.’s specialty. He can take souls in and out of bodies in his sleep.”
