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

When the doors closed, Nate punched
the three and twenty-six. Still not looking at me, he said, “There are some
people you need to meet.”

The elevator lurched and started
upward. I gripped the handrail, breathing deeply. Normally, I avoided elevators
whenever possible. My induction into reaperhood had involved a convenience
store shooting, an angry ghost, and the elevator to Hell. Even though I
accepted my fate as a reaper, sometimes I still had problems reconciling the
whole
other
world concept, and elevators seemed to be my trigger.

I focused on Nate and ignored my
roiling nerves. He had a way of talking around things and I’d learned direct
questions got the best results. “What people?”

“Other GRS personnel.”

“Can’t I meet them tomorrow?” I
watched for any sign that he was keeping something from me. His lips pressed
together and for a second his nostrils flared before he schooled his expression
again. Bingo. Flaring nostrils were always a dead giveaway. “What aren’t you
telling me?”

“Nothing.” He scowled but didn’t
meet my eyes.
Liar
. The elevator hiccupped to a stop on the third floor
and the doors glided open. Before exiting he looked at me. “Thirty minutes,
Carron, right here.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I punched the
close
door
button three times, causing Nate to hop over the threshold as the metal
slabs slid shut. “Jerk,” I said to the empty car.

The elevator spit me out on the
twenty-sixth floor. With no small amount of effort, I wrestled my suitcase
through the doors that kept trying to close on me, and down the carpeted hall.
Finally, I found my room. After a couple of attempts with my keycard, the light
flashed green and I pushed the door open. At last, home away from home.

The room was gorgeous, decorated in
shades of beige and gold, with a few accents of red artistically tossed about.
The furnishings were a little over the top, but I wasn’t about to complain.

First things first. I found the
thermostat and cranked up the air. The motor kicked on.
Nice.
A sigh
eased from me. Next, unpacking. Some people lived out of their suitcases when
they traveled. Not me. I needed to nest—make the room my own.

I unzipped my suitcase and pulled
out my cosmetic bags—yes, I had two. Like my clothes, I hadn’t been able to
pare down the contents and I’d ended up dumping all my girl supplies into my
bags. Better safe than sorry. I strode into the large bathroom and began
unpacking my arsenal of beauty paraphernalia. Makeup, perfume, and lotion lined
the sink like tiny soldiers, ready for any cosmetic mission.

I picked up the fancy soap provided
by the hotel. A list of organic products went into making the luxury bar:
oatmeal, avocado, olive oil. I didn’t know whether to bathe with it or eat it.
I gathered all the products and tossed them into my cosmetic bag, hoping
tomorrow the maid would replenish my supply. By the time I went back to Alaska,
I’d be fat with luxury hotel products. Did I mention I might have hording
tendencies?

Sounds from the hall drew my
attention. Leaning my head out of the bathroom, I listened. Someone was
talking—or loudly slurring—directly outside my room. I inched forward and
pressed my eye to the peephole. A head full of blond curls swayed into view. I
couldn’t see if there were more people with her, but no doubt the woman was
drunk and probably trying to find her room.

As quietly as possible, I folded
the safety latch over the door. It was doubtful the drunken woman could get in,
but I wasn’t taking any chances. On and on she mumbled about finding her key,
tottering back and forth. She was persistent, I’d give her that much.

How long was she going to stand
there, fumbling and blocking my door? Eventually I’d have to leave. When I
pressed my eye to the hole again, the woman looked up. For a split second her
image wavered and then she chirped, “Beep, beep.”

Before the information registered
and I could jump back, the blonde stumbled through the solid door—and passed
through me. An icy chill sliced to my bones. Doubling over, I spun to face the
ghost.

“What the hell?” I glared at her
and slowly uncoiled my body. “This is my room.”

The blonde staggered, raising her
translucent arms out to her sides. Her body swayed right and left until finding
her balance. Then she straightened and slowly turned toward me, holding up her
index finger. “I beg to differ with you, madam.” She pointed a garish neon pink
fingernail at her chest, stumbled back a few steps, and then righted herself.
“This has been my room since New Year’s Eve, 2000.”

“Really?” Another icy shudder
rippled through me. “You’ve been haunting this room for over fifteen years?”

She wobbled, and glowered at me.
“Haunting?”

Crap.
I hated when ghosts didn’t know
they were dead. Informing them that they’d passed on was like telling people
their loved one had died. Only in this case the loved one was her. “Yeah, I
hate to be the bearer of bad news but...” I took a deep breath and plunged
forward. “You’re dead.”

She stared at me for a few seconds
and then burst out laughing. “I know I’m dead, silly.” An instant later she
sobered. “Wait. How can you see me?” She tilted her chin down and pinned me
with a stare. “Are you dead, too?”

“No.” I rubbed my arms, trying to
scrub away the lingering effects of getting body-slammed by a spirit. “I’m a
grim reaper.”

“Cooool.” The word leaked out of
her like air escaping a balloon.

“Yeah, cool, but we have a
problem.” Not chancing more contact, I stepped into the bathroom doorway,
dearly hoping she would leave. “I’m here for the next week. So, either you let
me help you cross over, or you find somewhere else to hang for the next seven
days.” I gave her a placating smile. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, waving her finger
at me. “That’s not gonna happen.” After an ungraceful pivot, she made an
unsteady beeline for the bed—my bed, and flopped down on it, patting the
comforter. “But…” She closed her eyes. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.”
Again, her eyelids popped open. “Do you snore?”

“Not that I know of.” I moved to
the side of the bed, staring down at her. “Why are you drunk? Are you always
wasted?” I’d never encountered an intoxicated spirit, and had assumed everybody
converted to a non-inebriated state when they passed away. “Were you drunk when
you died?”

“Gin and tonics, no, and yes.”
Slowly, she rolled to her stomach and rested her head on her hands. “I’ve been
at a party.”

“A ghost party?”

“I’m not sure.” She furrowed her
brow. “I mean, there were ghosts, but also living people.” Her confusion melted
and a dreamy smile spread across her face. “It was in this guy’s suite
upstairs. He’s amazing.”

“Is he a ghost?” I’d never heard of
the dead and living mingling at a party, but what did I know about the
afterlife, except that there was one? “Cuz, maybe you could stay with him.”

Her eyes drifted shut again. “I
don’t think Big C is dead.”

“Big C?”

“Yeah, the hottie who threw the
party.”

I didn’t even want to know why they
called him Big C. A quiet snore resonated from the spirit. “Hey.” I nudged the
bed with my knee. “What’s your name?”

“Tandy,” she whispered before
sinking back into a drunken snore.

“Great.” I glared at her for a few
seconds and then whirled and stomped to the bathroom. Why had I actually
entertained the notion that this week might be relaxing? Or at the very least,
that I’d have my own room? “It frickin’ figures.”

I finger-combed my short, platinum
hair and then spritzed it with hairspray. After that I flicked a coat of
mascara along my lashes, then brushed my teeth. Standing back, I assessed my
reflection. With only thirty minutes to primp, this was as good as it got. I
retrieved my purse and room key, tossing Tandy a final glare. Hopefully she’d
be gone by the time I got back.

No way was I sharing my room with a
spectral party girl for seven days. If that meant hunting down Big C and
pawning Tandy off on him, then that’s exactly what I’d do.

Nate waited outside the third floor
elevator. “You’ll need this.” He held out my conference badge. “How’s your
room?”

“It’s fantastic.” I slipped the
black lanyard over my head. “Except for the dead-drunk woman passed out on my
bed.”

“Dead-drunk?” His brows pinched
together. “As in really wasted, or as in dead and drunk?”

“Both.” I scanned the people
milling about the outer lobby of the conference area. To my relief there were
no ghosts loitering up here. “She’s very drunk and very dead.” My gaze
refocused on him. “Her name is Tandy and she died on New Year’s Eve, 2000.”

“Y2K death. There were a lot of
them. People thinking the world was coming to an end.” He smirked and shook his
head. “I don’t know why I’m surprised your room is haunted.”

“I know, right?” I nodded, propping
my fists on my hips. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to convince her to move on
without force.” I lowered my arms. “She wasn’t very cooperative but if I
explain to her the benefits she might agree.”

“You can be very convincing.” He
placed his hand on the small of my back and started forward, guiding me through
the crowd. “We can deal with her later. Right now we have a meeting.”

“What kind of meeting?” I jogged a
couple of steps, trying to keep up with him. “I thought it was a simple GRS
meet-and-greet.”

“That’s going on too, but we’re
meeting with upper management.” Damn his long strides and my exhaustion—not a
good combination. “There’s a matter they’d like to discuss with us.”

I pulled to a stop. Now I knew how
my kids felt. “Am I in trouble?”

“No.” He slowed and faced me,
cocking a brow. “Not yet anyway.”

Another thread of suspicion that
this all-expense-paid-work-vacation had little to do with improving my customer
service and reaping skills crept through me. He strode down the wide conference
hall. I gritted my teeth and jogged to catch up with him again. After several
turns, we stopped at a set of tall golden doors.

While I caught my breath, Nate
rapped twice. A few seconds later, one of the doors opened and a tall redhead,
decked out in a black leather skirt, a matching tank top, and black boots stood
just inside the room. I didn’t think she was a Venetian employee, and the
instant her emerald eyes leveled on me, all doubt about her paranormal status
vanished. No way could this woman be human.

I’ve never had a girl crush before
but if I did, it would be on her.

“Nate.” Her voice poured over me
like melted chocolate. “Looking good—as usual.”

“Mara.” Nate leaned in and kissed
her on each cheek. “I’d heard you would be here but didn’t believe
Constantine.”

“In the flesh.” She arched a
delicate brow. “Trust me, nobody is more surprised than I am.” She frowned.
“Not that I had much choice.” Her gaze skated from Nate to me and she smiled
again. “You must be Lisa.”

“Hi.” I accepted her outstretched
hand. Warm tingles ran across my skin where we touched. Oh yeah, I’d switch
teams for her. She smirked, as if reading my mind. A blush rushed over my
cheeks and I released her hand. “Sorry if we’re late. I just got here.”

“Not late at all.” She closed the
door and pointed toward a man with his back to us. “Tabris is still on the
phone.”

Nate leaned toward me. “Tabris is
the head of GRS.”

My eyes rounded. “Of all GRS? As
in, the entire world?”

“Yep.” He grinned. “But don’t be
nervous. He’s a nice guy.”

That was easy for him to say. No
doubt I’d do something to embarrass myself before this meeting was over. I ran
my palms down the front of my shirt, feeling completely underdressed in the
elegant surroundings.

Heavy gold velvet draped the
arching windows and a gilded desk stretched six feet across at the front of the
room. Even though we were in the Venetian, I didn’t think the soaring pillars
and giant stone lions flanking them were part of the hotels design. Potted
orange trees and ferns littered the room, and several plush chairs and chaise
lounges were strategically placed for conversation. The once standard
conference room had been transformed into a scene out of the Palace of
Versailles.

A man rose from a chair near the
desk and walked toward us. Handsome didn’t describe him. He was a mix of Thor
and the angel Gabriel, all rolled into one beautiful blond package. Tan and
rugged with eyes that glimmered like glacier ice. They drew me in and I swore I
could fall into them. Then he smiled and my knees nearly buckled. Dimples were
my Kryptonite.

My jaw grew slack. I know this
because Nate reached over and pushed my mouth closed.

“Nate and Lisa, this is my partner,
Cam,” Mara said.

“Partner?” Nate’s brows shot up.
“You working for GRS is a huge surprise, but partners? How did that happen?”

“Divine intervention.” Sarcasm
dripped from Mara’s words.

“More like divine interference.”
Cam held out his hand. “Nice to meet you both.”

“Hi.” I shoved my hand toward the
blond god. “Lisa Carron. Really, really nice to meet you.”

Cam taking my hand and staring into
my eyes was the closest I’d come to Heaven. The blue of his irises swirled,
holding my gaze, and his deep voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket.
“It’s really nice to meet you too, Lisa.”

I think I sighed—or squealed. I’m
not sure. At first touch my lips went numb and my mind blanked out. It was
awesome. Only Nate’s super-charged scowl made it possible for me to let go of
Cam’s hand.

“Please, sit.” Mara gestured toward
the chairs. “It looks like Tabris is done.”

“Whoa.” I inched toward the seat
but couldn’t take my eyes off Tabris. “What is with you people?” The thoughts
racing through my mind tumbled out of my mouth. I dropped onto the brocade
chair. “All of you are crazy gorgeous.”

Nate rolled his eyes, his mouth
pinching into a thin line. I ignored him. The man should be used to me Ms.
Magooing my way through situations.

A white smile spread across
Tabris’s face. He stopped a few feet from me and clasped his hands behind his
back. In the same way Cam was all blond and golden, Tabris looked as if he’d
been dipped in copper and bronze. “Thank you, Lisa.”

“You’re welcome, but seriously,” I
said, my gaze cutting from the group back to Tabris. “You three aren’t human.”
I hesitated. “Are you?”

“No.” Tabris sat opposite me and
rested his arm across the back of the chair. He gave a quick shake of his head.
Every glistening copper strand of his shaggy cut waved like wheat in the breeze
and then settled perfectly in place. “Mara, Cam and I are something other.”

“Other?” His bronze skin seemed to
glisten and I swore his amber gaze sparkled under the room’s golden light.
“What does that mean?” I glanced to Mara. “Or is that a need-to-know thing?”

“Not really,” Mara said. “It’s just
that very few people have the nerve to ask.”

I’d always had an inflated
curiosity, so dangling the carrot of otherworld knowledge in front of me was
like slapping my behind and shouting
giddy-up
. “Can I try to guess or
would that be rude?”

“Please.” Tabris held his hands out
toward me, obviously enjoying my curiosity. “Give it your best shot.”

“Oh, good.” Mara crossed her legs
and rested her folded hands in her lap. “This should be interesting.”

I didn’t know if they’d actually
tell me if I got it right, but I couldn’t pass up the chance. So far my
repertoire of experiences with paranormal beings consisted of ghosts, porters,
guardian angels, vampires, and a werewolf. These three didn’t seem to fall into
any of those categories.

“Let’s see…great hair, eerily
amazing eyes, skin I’d kill for, confident. Tabris, you’re the head of GRS, so
you must have quite a bit of power and authority.” I reclined, assessing each
one of them. “Mara and Cam, you possess the same qualities, and seem to have a
close working relationship with Tabris.” After several seconds I said, “I’ve
got to go with angels. But not guardian angels, something—” I searched for the
right word. “Higher.”

Tilting his head toward me, Tabris
smiled. “Two-thirds correct.”

“Which two?” I asked.

Cam held up his hand. “The
Archangel of Tolerance.”

“And I am the angel of
self-determination, willpower, and free choice,” Tabris said.

“Then…” I glanced at Mara. “You’re
not an angel?”

“No, quite the opposite.” The
corner of her mouth quirked upward. “Try again.”

What was the opposite of an angel?
The word hovered on my tongue but I couldn’t reconcile this beautiful woman
sitting amongst angels as a… “Demon?”

“Give this girl a prize,” Mara
said.

“You’re a demon? But…” I pointed at
the two men. “I thought angels and demons were enemies.”

“Sometimes, but not always,” Tabris
said. “Like angels, there are different levels of demons with different
purposes. We have a number of them working at GRS.”

I shook my head. “You’re joking.”

“No joke.” Cam rested his elbows on
his knees and leaned forward. “You can’t have the good without the bad.” He
flicked his head toward Mara. “We work in the checks and balances department,
keeping good and evil in balance.”

“I have a special skillset and
knowledge base about the Underworld that comes in handy.” She smirked. “Not to
mention my connections.”

“Seriously?” I couldn’t wrap my
head around the concept, and to be honest, sitting so close to Mara now kind of
made me nervous. “So, you’re a succubus?”

A bark of laughter burst from Cam,
and Tabris discretely hid his smile behind his hand.

Heat flooded my face and I
grimaced. “Oh crap, did I just say something stupid?”

“Carron, you asking Mara if she’s a
succubus is like Mara asking you if you’re a hooker,” Nate said.

My hands flew to my mouth. “Oh my
God, I’m so sorry.” Perfect. It had taken me less than five minutes to insult
someone who could probably possess my body and make me do horrible things, like
scheduling a colonoscopy or volunteering to pick up dog poop in our local
parks. “Really, Mara, I’m so sorry.”

“No worries.” She smiled but it was
more wicked than understanding. “I’ve been called worse.”

“Boy has she ever,” Cam chimed in.

She turned her dark green gaze on
him, and I’m almost certain tiny flames flickered in her eyes.

“I think I’d better stop playing
twenty questions before I cause the Rapture.” If I could have crawled inside
the chair I would have. Reclining against the seat cushion, I folded my arms
across my body and looked at Tabris. “Anyhoo, carry on?”

“Very good.” He inhaled and pressed
his lips together for a second before saying, “We have a bit of a situation that
needs to be dealt with as quickly and quietly as possible.”

“What kind of situation?” Cam
asked.

Tension rippled around the group,
amping up my nerves. If these four seemed concerned about a
situation
then I definitely should be worried. Hell, I hadn’t figured out why I was there
in the first place. All this seemed way above my pay grade.

“It’s Charon,” Tabris said.

The group instantly relaxed—except
for me. I still had no idea what was going on. “Charon? As in the ferryman for
the River Styx?”

“Yeah.” Cam eased against the arm
of the chair. “Every few hundred years he ventures to the surface, parties, and
heads back to Styx.”

Nate had told me this story when he
first tried to recruit me. What Cam had left out was that Charon usually
knocked up a couple of women while on shore leave, thus ensuring the
continuation of our reaper-line. Charon was to the grim reapers what Adam was
to humanity.

“He announced his retirement before
leaving.” Tabris stood and paced behind his chair. “Normally, we wouldn’t be
concerned, but it’s been a month and he’s made no move to return.” He stopped
and leveled a stare at the group. “Even though he hasn’t officially signed off
on his retirement, souls are beginning to pile up on the riverbank.”

“What happens if he doesn’t return?”
I asked.

“When there’s no more room on the
shores, the spirits will start flowing onto the physical plane.” He clasped his
hands behind his back again and his jaw tightened for a few seconds before
relaxing. “If the souls aren’t transported within a certain amount of time they
are rendered unclaimed.”

Rendered unclaimed
conjured images of war orphans,
obsolete androids, and the Island of Misfit Toys, none of which were happy. “I
take it that’s bad?” I asked.

“Very. Being unclaimed means a soul
is up for grabs,” Mara said. “By whoever can claim it first—angel or a demon.”
The corner of her red lip curled downward. “Trust me. I’ve seen this first hand
and it’s not pretty.”

A chill that had nothing to do with
being cold wove its way up my spine.