Seeley took a step forward, and I instinctively moved backward in response. I even put my hands in front of me, as if that was going to stop him if he wanted to come at me.

“Don’t touch me!” I gasped.

He froze, his gaze flickering with amusement as he looked at me.

“I’m serious! Don’t come near me!” I added, foolishly deceiving myself into thinking that might work. A desperate soul was never known for clarity of thought, after all. If Seeley was a figure of death, and I could see him and talk to him, well… it didn’t bode well for me. Suddenly, the thought of never seeing Zeriel or my parents again threw me into pure chaos. Even without my body, I felt as if I was about to hyperventilate.

“Relax. It’s not your time. Yet,” Seeley replied.

“Yet?” I croaked.

“Well, your soul hasn’t been fully separated from your body,” he said. “Yet.”

“Again with the ‘yet.’”

“You see that chain, right?” he asked, looking at my only connection to my body. I nodded slowly. “It’s what we normally refer to as the life-chain.”

“We?”

“Me and others like me.”

“So there’s more than one Reaper,” I concluded. I quickly figured I might as well gather some intel while I was in this state. Whether I’d live to tell this tale to anyone afterward… that remained to be seen.

“Yes. And you see your chain turning black,” Seeley replied, diverting the conversation away from himself. That rang a little bell in my head. I’d have to work a little harder if I wanted to know more. Maybe he wasn’t all that sure I’d die, if he decided to withhold any information about the afterlife or about “others like him.” Maybe. Here I go again, hoping for the best.

“I see it. It’s bad, isn’t it?”

He nodded once. “I’m afraid so. The energy eating through it is powerful. Once it consumes the last link in your chain, it’ll break. Then your spirit will be free, and I will reap it.”

“How is this fair?”

“It may not be. But it will be your time to go soon, Vesta.”

“No. No!” I shouted. “No! Why? Why are you letting this happen?!”

Seeley frowned, as if he didn’t understand the question. “Why am I letting this happen?”

“Oh, for… Gah!” I roared, dropping to my knees. I couldn’t feel the chilly surface of the white marble floor, but I could imagine the sensation. So many things were going through my head at once, so many questions. I had a hard time focusing. This couldn’t be happening to me. It wasn’t right.

Seeley came closer, prudent in his pacing as he reached me, and crouched so I could see him better. He’d seemed quite normal from afar, but now I could see the strangeness that was probably characteristic of Reapers. There was a faint transparency to him—if I looked at his face for long enough, I could see the shapes and movements behind him, namely the witches who buzzed around to look after the fallen fae.

And his eyes… They were black as night. The darkness covered the whites of his eyes, too, as if he’d been left with two ink-black marbles instead. His cheekbones were sharp, and the blade of his nose reminded me of Native American men. There was a sense of pride in his expression, the kind that came with a certain heritage and education. I found myself wondering what his story was, in the midst of all this chaos.

“Vesta, I’m summoned when a spirit leaves a body,” he said. “Granted, in this case, like with the others in your vicinity, there clearly was an error. I was supposed to come once the chain was completely severed.”

“But… you got here early?”

“That’s right. What troubles me is that you can see me, when your life-chain isn’t even half-eaten by the Hermessi’s energy. Normally, you’d only see me once it’s—”

“Completely severed,” I repeated the term for him, as the truth of my weird condition began to set in. “So, what makes me different?”

“I’d lie if I said I had an answer to that. I don’t,” he replied. “But I do know that there’s nothing I can do to stop what’s happening to you. I don’t know what stories you’ve heard about Reapers, but—”

“That’s all I’ve heard. Stories! You’re not supposed to be real!”

He smirked. “In other worlds, there are people who think the fae are mere characters from stories and fairy tales.”

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” I mumbled.

Seeley sighed and settled on the floor next to me, absently watching the witches go by. Arwen and Mona were already preparing two more crystal casings, as GASP agents brought in two more fae. This wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, that much I knew with absolute certainty.

“I can’t stop it,” he said. “I cannot intervene. I’m not omnipotent. I’m no god. Granted, I can be omnipresent, but that’s always exhausting—”

“You can be in multiple places at once?” I asked, genuinely awed.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “That’s what you want to know, while standing on the doorstep to death?”

I thought about it for a moment. As emotional as I was, there was also a sense of clarity. Logic demanded my attention, and, to be honest, I was better off focusing on what I could do rather than what I couldn’t do. I feared death, yes, but if I couldn’t do anything about it, maybe I could at least figure out a way to (a) get valuable intel from Seeley and (b) slip it into the world of the living before my term expired.

“Mm-hm,” I replied with an energetic nod.

Seeley wasn’t entirely convinced. “You’ve gone from ‘Please don’t let this be the end!’ to ‘Tell me more, tell me more!’ a little too quickly for my comfort.”

“Hey, man, I’m dying. You said it yourself. It’s irreversible. And I have no intention of wasting what time I have left crying and wallowing over it.”

I hoped I’d made a convincing case. Part of me was already hard at work praying that my impending death could still be overturned. That was what actually preserved my sanity, if nothing else.

“A Reaper can be in up to three places at once,” Seeley conceded. “It’s a matter of preserving and consuming energy. Of course, I’m one of those illustrious Reapers who can achieve such a position across time and space, but it doesn’t last long. We’re limited in our capabilities.”

“What’s out there? How are you Reapers made? What do you actually do?” I asked, then instantly regretted bombarding him with so many questions at once.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “We reap. I thought that was obvious.”

“As in, you collect our souls.”

“Yes.”

“And where do you take them?” I asked.

He chuckled softly. At least his sense of humor was there. I would’ve been extremely miserable with a gloomy Reaper. This one made my impending doom a tad more tolerable. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out when it’s time.”

“Ah, keeping your cards close to your chest.”

“It’s protocol, Vesta. Sometimes fate makes other people come back and tell their loved ones what they saw and experienced. That’s how stories about us first came to light,” Seeley replied. He glanced at my parents. “I honestly think you should be spending what time you have left saying your goodbyes. Not drilling me for information.”

I felt hot and cold all at once, as if I’d been caught with my hand in the forbidden cookie jar. I shook my head, my determination stronger than ever.

“It’s not in my nature to just sit down and take it,” I said.

Again, his eyebrow arched upward as he measured me from head to toe. It made me laugh a little, and it felt nice.

“Granted, I’m literally sitting down, but you know what I meant,” I added.

“I do. You’re a warrior to the very end, aren’t you?”

I sighed deeply, from the bottom of my being, my gaze wandering around the sanctuary. I’d fought alongside most of the creatures that were in here—both those still standing and those resting in their crystal casings. I’d met the most incredible creatures over the years. My life, so far, could be categorized as tragically short, given the Reaper sitting next to me, but by the stars, it had been such a great life. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Through and through,” I replied.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” he said. “For you, for your parents, for Zeriel.”

I gawked at him. “You know about him?”

“I know everything. From the moment a person enters my radar for reaping, I’m informed of all there is to know about them. Who they are… what they’re like… what they’ve done. Like I said. Everything.”

That felt awkward and then some. Seeley knew “everything” about me, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. “Then, if you know me as well as you say you do, you realize I’m going down kicking and screaming, right?”

It was his turn to laugh. For a moment, despite the ethereal look and the chilling black eyes, Seeley looked more like a young man, and less like the entity that would take my soul away to who knew where.

“Everyone objects to being reaped, Vesta,” he said. “No one ever goes willingly. But, in the end, they all go.”

“Not everyone goes,” I said, and nodded at Ben, resting in his crystal casing with River by his side. She’d run out of tears to cry. Her husband, her child, and her grandchildren were in trouble, like me. If I’d felt sorry for Rose, my heart was shattered when I looked at River. This hit her the hardest.

“Ah, yes,” Seeley replied, pursing his lips. “One of the few to come back. Merely a glitch, Vesta, nothing more, nothing less. Besides, it looks like he’s going away for good, this time. Coming back where he belongs.”

“Didn’t he deal with a Reaper, as well? From what I was told, he wandered as a ghost for a while, before he made a deal and came back as a fae,” I said, remembering his account of that particularly gruesome experience.

Seeley sighed. “His Reaper was the epitome of incompetence, I’m afraid. Never showed up. I cannot disclose the details as to why that happened, but I can assure you he paid the price, in full.”

“Paid the price?”

“Let’s just say he lost his job.”

“How does a Reaper lose his job? Is it a job? Who hires you? Who made you? Where are you from? How are…” My voice trailed off as I noticed him glowering at me. Once more, I’d allowed my mouth to go ahead without me. “Sorry, I’m just curious.”

Seeley leaned back against the crystal casing behind us. In it, my body glowed. A couple of feet away, my parents stood and lovingly watched over me. There wasn’t much else they could do. My spirit ached, reminded that I may never see them or Zeriel ever again. My love…

“There are billions of us out there,” Seeley replied, staring blankly ahead, as if remembering something that he didn’t like. As weird as those black eyes of his were, there were a lot of emotions visible in them. “We’re scattered across all the galaxies and all the existing dimensions. Some of us are busier than the others. The In-Between, I’m afraid, has seen its share of deadly action lately, and it doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.”

“Hold on,” I said. “It wasn’t just Ben who spent some time in spirit form. I know Lucas and Kailyn went through a similar experience, as well. Would you say their Reapers were also… epitomes of incompetence?”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him. Seeley let a deep sigh out. The kind that said he didn’t want to talk about this. Still, I pressed him harder.

“Seriously, I deserve some answers. I know of at least three people who died and came back without any stories, any inkling of the existence of Reapers,” I added.

“I’m not at liberty to give you details. But I can say that Reaper selection isn’t always good. We’ve had some bad apples. Some more rotten than others. In a few cases, said rotten apples failed to perform their Reaper duties. At one point, there were thousands of spirits lost, not knowing what they were or what came next.”

That made me remember something about the fae relating to “lost spirits”—specifically, the fact that they could see ghosts and had once even collected and served them up to a settlement of ghouls. Seeley had to know about this.

“Okay, so I get lost souls with no Reapers to help them. I even get Reapers misplacing these souls. But were you aware that, at one point, Sherus and his crew were plucking these souls from their wandering states and handing them over to the ghouls? Fae can see ghosts, too.”

Seeley’s jaw was locked for a moment, as he pondered his response. “That’s something we’ve since fixed.”

“How can you fix that?”

“With some help from Death,” Seeley replied dryly. “The fae haven’t been able to see spirits in a while now. Or ghouls. We fortified our plane of existence—the little thread between the world of the dead and that of the living. Fae are now more deeply embedded into the plane of the living, and they cannot see past it anymore. Haven’t you noticed that there have been no mentions or sightings of lost souls or ghouls for quite a few years, now?”

Come to think of it, Seeley had a point. It meant that Reapers, or Death, had the power to conceal this plane of theirs and of spirits, if needed.

“Why didn’t any of the fae notice?” I wondered aloud.

Seeley smirked. “They probably have noticed, but none are working with ghouls anymore, so why bother wondering why they can’t see spirits anymore? Maybe some did wonder, but don’t you think you’ve all been busy enough to not give this subtle change a second thought? It’s not like ghosts were an integral part to the existence of your species.”

I supposed he was right. It couldn’t have been a priority to investigate over the years. After all, not seeing ghosts anymore would’ve made them think that more spirits were moving on, which was supposed to be a good thing. The fae didn’t know that they simply couldn’t see them anymore. Besides, plenty had happened since to distract them from it.

“So, all of this ‘cloaking’ shenanigans just because of crappy Reapers?” I asked with a snort. “That’s what you’re going with? And your Reapers really messed up on such a wide scale? A lot of souls got lost, Seeley.”

“That’s the official story.”

“But not the truth.”

“Vesta. You’re pushing it.”

I shrugged. “Not much else I can do right now.”

“Let’s just leave it at this: Ben, Lucas, and Kailyn got lucky. Luckier than the thousands who weren’t reaped, and got lost or taken by ghouls or ghoul-serving fae. Ben, Lucas, and Kailyn, in fact, were stupid lucky because they were brought back. By the time we realized what was going on, they’d been revived. We got the others back eventually, but… your friends? They’re the ones that got away.”

A few minutes passed in silence. I would’ve killed to get the details to this particular story, but judging by the look on his face, Seeley wasn’t going to give me anything more on that topic. Not for now, anyway.

So I steered back to what really burned me. “Do you know anything about the Hermessi? You’re aware of what they’re doing to the fae, that much I can say with certainty.”

He nodded. “I know enough. Unlike many of my peers, I make it my business to be informed of the events that plague a certain dimension. It makes my job a little easier, and it makes me very good at my job as well.”

“So you’re stationed in this dimension, so to speak.”

“Yes.”

“Where are you from?” I asked again.

Seeley grinned. “You’re obnoxiously curious. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Yes.” I chuckled.

“I reckon it’s one of the things Zeriel loves most about you.”

That hit me right in the plex. “You know about him, but have you seen him?”

“I’ve been here since they brought you in. I’ve seen him, yes. He’s broken up about you,” Seeley replied. “Nothing hurts more than a broken heart, I suppose. Then again, there’s tooth infection. That’s a bitch.”

I stifled a laugh. This guy was priceless, and I wasn’t sure whether I should be glad or terrified to be around him right now. Then again, what other choice did I have? I was useless against the Hermessi. Heck, they were literally eating away at my flesh, while I sat on the outside, helplessly watching them take over.

“You really can’t do anything against the Hermessi?” I asked, though I already knew what he’d say.

He shook his head. “I told you, no. I cannot intervene in the affairs of the living. I shouldn’t even be here so early.”

“Then why don’t you go and come back later?” I replied with a devilish grin.

The look he shot me wiped it off my ethereal face in an instant. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Well, it doesn’t work like that. Two parts of me are busy elsewhere, already. The rest of me is stuck here until it’s time to reap you. That’s the protocol. I cannot leave you until you move on. And thanks to this ridiculous glitch, I can’t reap you until the chain breaks on its own.”

I couldn’t help but wonder, was this the universe working in my favor, in its own awkward and crazy weird way? Was I really destined to die, or was this entire situation a “glitch,” like Seeley had called it?

My first instinct was to answer yes to both self-addressed questions, but I also had to maintain a sense of realism. One thing was ironclad certain: there was no way for me to go back into my body unless the Hermessi influence was removed, and we had no knowledge of how to do that. Another thing that couldn’t be disputed was the fact that I was in the presence of a Reaper, which apparently meant it was close to closing time for me.

And yet, the little fire burning inside me wasn’t ready to fizzle out. Not while I still retained my consciousness. So, in response to this peculiar and downright baffling situation, I crossed my spirit legs and let go of some of the angst I’d been holding in. I chose to focus on what I could influence—in this case, one Reaper’s mind. Perhaps I could persuade him to tell me more about himself, about his kind, about death in general, and, most importantly, about the Hermessi.

He’d said it himself. He did his research.

Seeley knew something the others in the living world didn’t.