Chapter I: Of Family Feuds


AN:

Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!

Finally done with my first year of uni! Last essays handed in, last exams suffered through, fuck yeah! I know why students get the whole lazy and unenergetic reputation now. Learning things is EXHAUSTING. I think I did okay though. Good enough to get into my second year, anyway and that's all I need. How are the rest of you doing? Finals and exams are happening now for a lot of people and all.

Current plan is to spend the rest of this month working on the pilot chapters for the new stuff, then start writing the original four stories again next month. That's not set in stone or anything, but it's my current working plan. Might even be able to get the new Inklewriter Airplane Job up too. I'll try keep y'all apprised.

This one is based on a book series called Death's Daughter, for obvious reasons. It's written by the actress who played Tara in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Amber Benson. There's four of them, I think. I've only read the first two, but they're a damn good read. It's like if Gossip Girl and Dresden Files had a weird lovechild with a female Tim Gunn. A lot of interesting spins on some usual cliched hidden-supernatural-world crap. Kind of had to ditch the fashion stuff in my story though, on account of Max being... fashion-challenged, shall we say. Not that I don't love the hoodie-look, but she's not really the sort of person who'd comment on a suit being Armani or praise some Ted Baker dress.

Also, reading this over, I think this Max has a complex about her height that I really didn't intend. Woops.

Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.


I slammed my hand down on my alarm. "Graah..." I rolled over and pulled the pillow over my head.. "Too early..."

Then my head shot up. "Oh, shit!" I look at my clock. My lesson started fifteen minutes ago. Wowzers, I'm so late! I jump-stumbled out of bed and started getting ready.

Shoot. Where's my other sock? I really don't have time for this! "Socky?" I poked my head under my bed.

Eh, whatever. I went over to my drawer and pulled another one out. Who cares if I don't match, right? I snort. It's not like I'm not already a total loser to these people.

I looked down at my plaid shirt and hoodie. I can already hear Victoria's "Much pathetic, such hipster" comments she'll be sending my way the rest of the day. I don't understand why she's so mean. The girl literally has everything, why does she have to pick on us 'mere mortals'?

Ugh, whatever. I have more important things to worry about. Like getting to lesson clothed and as soon as possible.

I check myself over. Ok, socks, shirt, hoodie, pants, I'm done. I grabbed my bag and was halfway out when my stomach rumbled. I looked down at my stomach in shock. Wowzers, that was loud.

Dog, I know I have something to eat around here somewhere. Normally, I'd dip into my cookie stash (Mom sent me a care package full of them my first month here and I'd developed a teensy tiny ever so slightly all consuming addiction to them. What? They were delicious.), but they'd started disappearing recently. Kate thought I'd started sleep-eating, but I don't know. Anyway, Mr Jefferson had assigned a literal BUTTLOAD of homework recently, so I hadn't had time to get a refill.

I scavenged around for a couple of minutes, trying to find something until...

Result!

There was a breakfast bar sitting on my dresser. I'd probably bought it for lunch a couple days ago and forgotten to eat it. However it got there, it's my breakfast now. Omnomnom. I ripped open the packet and wolfed it down.

I coughed and spluttered crumbs freaking everywhere.

Wowzers, thats awful. Ok, maybe a bit longer than a couple days ago, jeez. Always check the dates, Max.

Then I caught sight of the clock again. Wowzers. Mr Jefferson is going to KILL me. I ran out the door.


"...and that's why I say, timing is vitally important to..."

Of course, that's the exact moment my dumb ass decides to fall into the classroom. Literally. I end up butt over teakettle over the floor, bag landing on the back of my head. (AN: Do Americans actually say Ass Over Teakettle? A friend of mine insists you do, but I don't believe them at all.)

Damn it.

I poke my face out from under my bag and look up into the resigned face of Mr Jefferson. I grin, sheepishly. "Sorry I'm late, sir."

He snorts. "Just go to your seat, Max. We'll talk about it after class."

I nod hurriedly and pull myself up, skittering over to my seat at the back. I caught a snide comment from Victoria on the way, ducking my head and flushing. Damn it. The girl is a bitch, but seriously, I so envy her confidence. What I wouldn't give to be all tall and free and tall and not give a crap what the world thinks of me and tall.

Anyway...

I pull my pad out and start paying attention. Sort of. I make some notes, anyway. Ok, so I doodled some kind of weird goo monster thing, but that was sort of work. Wasn't it?

The minute class is over, I launch myself at the door, only to be stopped by a stern and scary voice from behind me. "Max... Remember me?"

I stop. Shit! I pull myself together, surprise the urge to... ulp. Barf. and went back to talk to Mr J. He frowns as I scuttle up. "Come on, Max. Thirty minutes late? What happened?"

"Sorry, sir. I was up late studying." This was... almost true. Sort of. Ok, so I was watching Final Fantasy: Spirits Within, but that technically counts as pictures!

Mr Jefferson tilted his head and stared at me. I was pretty sure he knew something was off with me, but couldn't for the life of him figure out what. Luckily, before he could spend any more time speculating about me, Victoria coughed behind him, calling out for his attention.

He focuses on me for a couple of seconds. "Fine, Max. You're a good student, one of the best I've ever had." Me? Seriously? "So, I'll let you off this once. Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

I nod. Thank dog for that. "Of course, sir."

"Right. Now, you can go." He just shakes his head and wanders off to answer whatever 'oh so interesting' thing Victoria had to say.

I nod again and throw him a grin. "Thanks, Sir."

I rushed out of the classroom, barging past - more like through - a few people in my rush to get to the bathroom before I barfed or something else that would make me look like even more of a loser to my classmates.

I slammed through the doorway and cannoned straight into one of the stalls, falling to my knees and tightly clutching the porcelain god as I vomited.

"Oh, you poor dear. I do hope you're not feeling too bad." I... I recognised those cultured British tones, but I couldn't for the life of me work out where from. Whoever it was, it was a guy and I'm in the dogdamn girls bathroom.

I whirled, to tell whoever the dude was that he was in the wrong place, but to my surprise, there was no-one there.

Oh, dog, I'm hearing voices. The craziness had really set in. Wait, hearing weird, disembodied voices? Wasn't that a sign of schizophrenia?

Oh, frell. Its finally happened. I've gone crazy. All the stress of all the months at this school, amazing as they'd been, had finally caught up to me.

I felt my legs go out from under me and another bolt of pain lanced through my skull. "Oh, dog, my head..." I held it in my hands, trying to get rid of the stabbing pain lancing through it.

I turned and stumbled out of the cubicle, catching myself on the sinktop. I planted both hands on either side - for stability - then looked up into the mirror. Oh double-dog, I look awful. Such a frakking loser.

Pictures started flicking back into my head - well, more memories, really - and I whimpered. Whatever was happening to me, it really frakking hurt!

I whirled and ran back into the stall to throw up bile. It was pretty much the only thing still in my stomach I hadn't thrown up already. "Oh dog, it's food poisoning. That shitty breakfast bar has killed me!"

"I really am sorry about this, but it was the only way to reverse the spell." The voice had come back and it was being sympathetic! And talking about spells! Oh, shit, I really am going crazy...

But that was bullshit, and I knew it.

Dog, I'd have loved to have been crazy. It'd have been so much better than what I finally admitted to myself I knew had happened.

My memory was back!

The fucking Forgetting Charm I'd put on myself a few months earlier so I could actually live a normal fucking life had been reversed! I'd put so much effort into putting all that behind me and now it was all back in the blink of a fucking eye! All because of an enchanted breakfast bar.

I sighed and called out the name that had been instantly been in my head the minute I admitted the truth of my situation. "Jarvis..?"

No response. I had a vague iota of hope that I might have been imagining it.

But, I knew it wasn't true.

It couldn't have been.

I tried again.

"Jarvis?"

There was a deep, long suffering sigh and then a tsking sound and the faint whiff of vanilla as someone wormholed in.

"It is you!"

Jarvis was small, even more than me and exactly as I remembered him. Short, impeccably dressed in a double-breasted suit jacket, dress shirt and cravat, sporting a Tom-Selleck inspired moustache. He took a careful bow, bending as low as his goat-legs would allow. You see, Jarvis was a faun and one of the proudest I'd ever met. If you ever want a free tooth removal, just call him 'goat boy'. "In the flesh."

I stared at him for a second, then narrowed my eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Mistress Maxine, I..."

I cut him off. "Oh dog. Nope. I asked you not to call me that, Jarvis." I'd given up on getting him to ever call me Max, but I wouldn't bend on the mistress thing. That was just so... weird.

"Fine, mistress, I mean miss Maxine, but if you would just listen to me for one moment I..."

I cut him off again. There's no way I was listening to anything he had to say. It'd taken years of arguments, plus the forgetting charm, to get myself out of the organised insanity I called my family. I was not going to let him pull me back in, not now I was finally normal! "No, Jarvis! I think you should just disapparate back wherever the hell you came from and leave me alone! Dad and I had a deal! So long as I was under the forgetting charm, you had to leave me alone!" I jabbed an accusing finger at him, convinced I'd won some kind of point. "As far as I'm concerned, you can go back home and tell him that!"

I turned and stormed to the door, but something happened just as I started to push it open.

Jarvis sniffled.

That stopped me cold. I'd never seen Jarvis lose his composure, not ever. In the years I'd known him, he'd barely ever shown any emotion beside disapproval and now he was sniffling? Something was very, very wrong.

"I... I can't tell him." Jarvis said, his voice wobbly and pinched.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach and went all the way out the other side of the Earth. Oh, frakk... I turned and stormed back over to him. "Why can't you tell him, Jarvis?"

He whimpered and shook his head, miming the whole locked lips thing and throwing away the key. I caught it and immediately mimed unlocking his lips. "Jarvis! Tell me now!"

He shook his head again, way more frantically than before. "No, no, no, no, no! I should never have done this. I should have told your mother this was a bad idea."

I blinked at that. My mother sent Jarvis? But she never spoke to Jarvis... Not out of any spite or anything, it just wasn't done. Jarvis was my dad's man, through and through. I took a look back at the door. Crap. This was very, very public. I picked Jarvis up and dragged him over to the corner, hoping that whatever random person walked through the door next wouldn't be able to see him. "Mother sent you..? What's wrong Jarvis? Did something happen to dad?"

"He... He's been kidnapped!" Jarvis wailed.

I slumped back against the stall wall behind me.

My dad... got kidnapped?

"Who the hell would kidnap the frickin' Grim Reaper?"


Yeah, so... Cards on the table time.

Might've exaggerated the whole 'normal college girl' thing. Like, a lot. Much as I hate it, the truth is, there's nothing normal about me. No small house in the suburbs with 2.5 siblings, a dog and a white picket fence in my childhood. Even my name isn't normal. My full surname is Reaper-Caulfield. I... usually drop the Reaper. Obviously. Nope. My life, not normal at all.

Instead, I grew up in a disgustingly large old mansion right on the coast called Fallowcrest that I loved with all my heart. It was perfect. Designed way back when America was like, my age, Fallowcrest was finally built about a hundred and fifty years ago by this crazy socialite named Marianne Whitehall who wanted to create the Crown Jewel of Seattle or something. The place had fourteen bedrooms, nine bathrooms, a formal dining room, a ballroom, two kitchens and a twelve-car garage. Twelve! We barely even used three quarters of the house. Oh, and my parents added in a swimming pool when I was five. And the whole place was surrounded by the most amazing views an aspiring photographer could dream of.

The only thing it lacked was my best friend.

Growing up, I'd only spent my summers and school vacations at home. The rest of the time, I was attending this stuffy academy down in Oregon, Prufrock Prep. I hated every moment I spent there. I was pretty much a loner, bullied or ignored by everyone else.

Until I met Chloe.

I knew her name before, but most people did. She was in the year above me and scared pretty much everyone, including the teachers. I was getting pushed into my locker by this older girl. I can't actually remember her name now. Chloe pulled her away, helped me out of the locker and invited me for breakfast at the diner.

We'd been friends from that day on.

Until five years ago, when I left her in Arcadia Bay. Something had... happened. Something bad. And I had to drop out and go back home. Chloe was furious. She'd told me to fuck off and die and sworn never to talk to me again.

I... well, I'd been back for three weeks and I still hadn't gotten up the courage to go talk to her yet.


Jarvis shrugs, avoiding my eyes. "I don't know, Miss Maxine. There's been no demands, no communication of any kind."

"Alright Jarvis, so..." The door opens with a thunk, and I pull Jarvis further into the corner.

I lean out of the dark and take a peek at... Nathan? Nathan Prescott? Sheesh, can he not read a sign? Whatever. There was no way I wanted to get on his bad side, or let him see Jarvis, so I'll just hide here until he's done... whatever he's doing.

Wait. What's the leader of the Vortex Club doing in the girls bathroom?

Huh. Talking to himself, apparently. He was pacing up and down in front of the mirror, stopping every so often to turn and talk into it. I couldn't really blame him. I did the same when I had to psyche myself up for something. I did it in the right bathroom though... "Okay, Nathan, okay. You've got this."

Five long minutes of Jarvis and me staring at this guy from the dark later, someone else came in. A girl with electric blue hair and an... interesting fashion sense swaggered in, talking before the door had even closed. "Hey Prescott, you made it! Fucking good choice, dude."

I nearly had a heart attack when she started pushing open stall doors, starting at the other end and going along the line to me. Ohgoddon'tletherseeus! "I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say?"

I held my breath and... she stopped! Yes! When she'd checked all the stalls, instead of checking the corner me and Jarvis were hiding in, she turned and glared at Nathan, all tall and lanky self-confidence. "Now, let's talk bidness."

He retorts immediately, almost spitting at her. "I got nothing for you." Whoever this girl is, Nathan obviously hates her. And bidness? Wowzers...

"Wrong." She smirks, swaggering up to his side. "You got hella cash."

Wait... Cash? Is she trying to blackmail him or something? Nathan Prescott? That's... that's crazy.

"That's my family. Not me."

"Oh, boo hoo." She grins mockingly. "Poor little rich kid." She circles around him, getting right up close to him. "I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man, I can see the headlines now..."

He spins and glares at her. "Leave them out of this, bitch."

The blue haired girl ignores him, continuing her taunting. I blink at her in shock. She's so rude! "I can tell everybody Nathan Prescott is a punk-ass bitch who begs like a little girl and talks to himself..." Her grin grows and she opens her mouth to say something else.

That's when Nathan just... snaps. He pulls something out of his jacket and... dog, is that a frakkin' gun? Oh no... This is bad.

He shoves it up against the girls stomach, pushing her up against a wall by the door. I have to lean a little out of the corner to keep them where I can see them.

The blue haired girl is babbling now. She's so scared. "You're gonna get in hella more trouble for this than the drugs!"

Nathan laughs and leans in close to her. "Nobody would even miss your punk-ass, would they?"

Oh dog.

He's going to kill her.

He's really going to kill her!

Jarvis was leaning out behind me, mouth open in horror. "Jarvis!" I hissed back at him. "You've gotta do something."

He frowned, looking between me and the two arguing near the door. "What would you have me do?"

"Help her!" I waved my hands about vaguely. "Magic something up!"

He raised an eyebrow. I could almost feel the sigh of derision implied by it like a slap across my face. "Magic..?"

I nod urgently, too focused on what was possibly about to happen in the room for diplomacy. "Yeah, Magic! Please? You've got to do something or he's going to kill her!"

Jarvis nods, then waves a hand, muttering to himself for a second. I wait for a second. Then another. Then... another. I turn back to Jarvis. "Jarvis, what did..."

That's as far as I get before an ear-splitting wail echoes through the room. Wowzers, the fire alarm here is so freaking loud!

The blue haired girl shoves at Nathan, pushing him back surprisingly far. Dog, she's really strong!

Nathan falls over and hits the ground with a thud and the girl takes the chance to scramble to her feet and dash out the door. Nathan stays lying on the ground for a second, then swears and pulls himself up too. I catch a muttered "Another shitty day..." as he heads out the door too.

I sigh in relief and turn to Jarvis. "Thank you."

He frowns at me. "Did you think I would just let that happen?"

I... did I? "I, um... No? I don't think so. I don't know." I give him a little smile. "But thanks anyway."

I take a deep breath, almost sighing with relief. That was so unreal! Heh. I know that sounds insincere coming from Death's fricking Daughter, but I've never even seen a gun before, not even when I actually talked to my family. Speaking of...

I look back up at Jarvis. "Can you pull up a wormhole? We should go see Mom. This firealarm is really frickin' loud."

He smiled and nodded, waving a hand and muttering for a second. There was the familiar scent of vanilla and then... woosh.

Wormhole time.

How to describe the sensation..? Hmm... Well, it's kind of like Alice in Wonderland? You know, where Alice falls down the Rabbit Hole and everything is just wooshing past her? That's pretty much exactly how it feels, I guess, but let me tell you, Carroll never said anything about your stomach jumping up to your ears or your toes feeling like they're gonna literally explode.

Dog, I'd been kinda tempted to ask Jarvis to call home for a helicopter or something, but time was of the essence, right?

Still. Exactly as bad as I remembered. Eesh.


Jarvis pushed open the gilded door to my mother's bedroom and went inside. I stopped at the doorway and took a breath. Come on, Max. You can do this! I can do this! I can, I can, I...

"Maxine?"

I resisted the urge to glare. Max. Never Maxine. I took a deep breath.

Oh, dog. This is not gonna be pretty...

I take another deep breath - I can do this - and head inside.

My mom and Dad hadn't slept in the same bed since before my sister was born. They didn't hate each other or anything, or only pretended to get along 'for the children'. It was like, completely the opposite, actually. They were madly, passionately, head-over-heels romcom-style in love with each other.

Honestly, they'd kind of have to be madly in love for my dad to petition both God and the Devil to make my mom immortal, and for my mother to renounce her mortality to stand by my dad's side for eternity. If that sounds heavy, believe me, it was.

Anyways, the reason they slept apart was entirely my dad's fault, even though he didn't know why til waaaaay later.

After my older sister was born, mom stopped sleeping. Literally everyone thought it was just the stress of motherhood or, dog, some shit like that. I wasn't there, 'cause of not being born. After two months of insomnia, it was a pretty sure thing everyone was wrong. Whatever was happening, it was more than just shitty nappies and breast milk that was causing it.

My dad was horrified, watching Mom basically just wither away like my plant, Lisa. Damn, I forgot to water her again. He paid for specialists of all types to get flown in from all over to check her out, but not a single one could help.

Finally, in an act of pretty much 100% wild desperation, he brought in Madame Papillon, the scariest little old lady ever. She was an aura specialist, meaning she had this weird third eye she could use to look at spiritual conditions and that sorta thing.

Kinda cool, really.

She'd taken one look at my Mom and announced that she knew exactly what the problem was. It's a weird side effect of being immortal. You get one weakness, sort of like your personal Kryptonite. Only, instead of just taking away your powers, it kills you. Really dogdamn unfortunately, you don't start off knowing your weakness.

It seriously sucked. You could be just going about your day, then suddenly wham! Dead as a Dodo. Sucks even more if your weakness was intimately bound up with something you cared about.

Turned out my Mom's immortal weakness was...

Snoring.

Her immortality hadn't been granted until after my sister was born, so in all the time Mom and Dad had been together, she'd been mortal and she'd slept fine.

Nobody had expected Mom's weakness to be so domestic. It'd taken Madame Papillon to make the connection.

So, after getting Mom immortality so they could be together for all eternity, my parents instead found themselves separated for all eternity. I had just two words for that.

Total. Bummer.

Anyways, due to her weakness, Mom had her own set of rooms just down the hall from my Dad. Honestly, I think she was kind of grateful for the space. My Dad's personality could be kind of... overwhelming sometimes. I mean, he was Death...

As I stepped into her main room, I saw her sitting in one of the two huge, ridiculously fancy chairs that had been in her rooms for literally longer than I'd existed. They kinda reminded me of her, actually. Neat and delicate, but strong enough to manage the heaviest of asses (That's my Dad, FYI).

"Maxine!" Mom said again, closing the distance between us and wrapping me up in a light hug. Wowzers, she seemed even smaller and more delicate than I remembered. I leaned into it anyway. I might've made the decision to cut her out of my life, but she was still my mom. I did miss her. Or I would've, if I'd remembered her.

She pulled back and looked me over. She smiled and her eyes did this peculiar 50s film star watery thing that made her seem even more frail and delicate than before. "I'm so happy you came. I was afraid..." she stammered, and forced a thin smile. "I was afraid you wouldn't."

Ok, not gonna lie, that kinda hurt. I mean, I know I said a lot of stuff before I left, and I mean A LOT, but he's my dad. Wowzers, how could I not come? "Yeah, I get it. But you're my family. It's like a law that we have to stick together in times of crisis, right?"

"I'm very glad you see it that way."

I turned to see a tall old guy in a black cassock (AN: A cassock is a priest robe, like the one Neo wears in the later Matrix movies, only with less leather. It's amazing the kinda weird shit you learn growing up Irish Catholic.) walk out of the door from my mother's ensuite.

"Father." I smiled up at him, oddly comforted by his presence. Father McCready was my dad's mortal human lawyer. Also, my childhood priest. We were that sort of family.

He hobbled over and took one of the fancy chairs. He moved delicately, like he was feeling his age. Dog, he had to be close to eighty-five by now.

That's when I thought a second time about what he'd said. "Wait. What do you mean, you're 'glad I see it that way'?" I sounded warily hostile, even to me. You wouldn't blame me, if you knew the stuff my family had tried to pull sometimes. Sneakiness was like our family hobby. Plus, with my memory back, I was apparently doubly hostile.

"Well, you see..." My mother and McCready shared a glance. "We're in a bit of a bind here."

I raised an eyebrow, feeling the wariness increase even more. Dog, there's always an agenda in this damn house. "A bit of a bind?"

My mother stood, wringing her hands and beginning to pace in front of the chairs. "You see, sweetheart, it seems that..." She slowed, but McCready took up right where she left off.

"With your father missing, and no heirs to take his place, the Devil wants a recall."

My mom sagged against the back of one of the chairs and began to cry. "They want to kick us out of the house, Maxine! Strip us of our immortality and let your father rot, or worse, in whatever cesspool his captors have thrown him into!"

"Wowzers." I didn't know what else to say. I mean, it's a crappy thing and I want Dad back out as much as anyone, but I had no idea why this recall thing was serious enough for Mom to send Jarvis to me. It seemed totally obvious who Mom should call. My older sister, Sophie, would probably wet herself to take over the top spot at Death Inc. "What about Sophie? She's way past the age of consent and I'm sure she's, like, salivating to take the reigns while they look for Father." I focused on Mom, now sure I'd found the solution to whatever this was. "Just go ask her."

That's when Mom dropped the second bombshell. "Your sister is missing too. So are all twelve key executives in the company. The kidnapping happened right in the middle of the annual Solstice Meeting."

What. Oh dog. This... I blinked in shock. This is way bigger than I thought... "Why didn't..." I turned to Jarvis. "Jarvis?"

He shrugged and opened his mouth to reply when Mom cut in. "I asked Jarvis not to say anything." She took out a little silk handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "I didn't want to upset you anymore than we had to."

I... you... what? Dog, this is all happening too fucking fast. I pulled out every thought I could to try keep myself from freaking the hell out.

"It's not an easy decision for you to make, Maxine, we know. But we know you will make the right decision." Father McCready intoned, sounding more sombre and funereal than I'd ever heard him.

The right decision? Oh, no. Ohnononononono. He is not saying what I think he's saying. "The... the right decision?"

McCready nods. "Yes. The right decision. Only you have the power to save your family from certain doom. You have to take the reins of Death."

I immediately backed up, skittering away from them both like a spider from a rolled up newspaper. "Uh uh, No. Nyet, nah, nien. No way, jose. I'm not doing that."

"But Maxine..." Mom started, obviously trying to guilt trip me into doing something totally stupid that would never work because I'm totally not cut out for this oh god why are they asking me isn't there anyone else wowzers they want me to be Death oh dog... I'm seeing spots.

I just stuffed my fingers in my ears and started to hum the Katamari Damacy theme loudly and slightly off-key. I thought it might be shocking enough to shut her up and I was right. She closed her mouth and stared at me, lips pursed and a very disapproving look on her beautiful face.

And when I say beautiful, I mean beautiful. Like Sophia Loren AND Audrey Hepburn, plus whatever Victoria's Secret model you can think of all rolled up into one. She was a direct descendent of Helen of Troy and she lived up to the bloodline.

I couldn't believe we were talking about the business when we should be trying to make some kind of plan to get Dad and Sophia back! "Look, I just think you're focusing on the wrong thing, we need to go and work out what we're going to do about Dad and Sophia..."

Mom sighed. "We don't have any say in whatever rescue attempt is planned if we've been thrown out of the supernatural community, Maxine." She snorted. "I can't imagine the new Grim Reaper would deign to consult with his predecessor's family, can you?"

But I wasn't about to give up that easily. I pulled up what little backbone I had and looked my Mom directly in the eyes. "There has to be another way. Can't we just petition God or something?"

I could hear my voice rising as the panic started to overwhelm me, but I pushed down on it and tried to concentrate on getting this terrible idea out of their heads.

McCready stood up again and glared, veins pulsing in his head. "Impossible. There is no other way." He snorted. "You're the only answer we could come up with, Maxine. Believe me, if Clio was of age, I would've barred your mother from contacting you at all."

"Wait, what?" My jaw dropped. "Not even contact me? Wowzers, it's good to know that the only reason you're dealing with me at all is that you need something from me, thanks for that." I slumped, feeling the anger drain out of me as I realised the ridiculousness of what was happening right now.

Wowzers. I'm standing in my childhood home having an argument with a half-dressed goddess-runner up and a priest. My life has turned into a literal joke. We just need a bar and a guy with a long face.

This is exactly why I never wanted to go into the family business.

I watched as Mom's face crumpled and she slumped back into the chair with a sigh. She didn't move and I was pretty sure she was channelling most of her energy into not crying. That's when I started to feel like a serious jerk. "Sorry, Mom..."

I moved to her side and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. She didn't flinch, letting me give her a good 'ole Reaper-Caulfield family bear-hug (Or as close as I could get with my tiny body), which I took as a good sign.

"Look, Mom... I know this is hard and I'm sorry I'm being such a dumbass, but you're barking up the wrong tree here. I'm really not right for this, and it's the worst plan ever, and..." I went on for a while, until I just trailed off and... dog damn it. "If this is what you really want me to do, and it'll get you on the case for rescuing Dad and Sophia faster, I guess I can... think about it."

She looked up at me, eyes so full of pathetic hope that, well... I did something very stupid... "Fine. I'll do it." I stuck a finger out warningly at her. "But you better be finding someone else to take over ASAP."

Mom nods, grinning at me. "Of course, Maxine, Max. Thank you, I... I... Thank you!" The gratitude in her voice made me faintly sick, in addition to my pounding ears and the voice in my head screaming "What are you doing?!" loudly over and over. "I knew I'd be able to count on you to do the right thing in the end."

I really, really tried to be positive about what I'd just done, but I had the sickening feeling this was just the start of a very, very bad situation. A situation that I'd seriously struggle to get out of.


My little sister grinned when I'd finished filling her in on the whole thing. "Man. Max, they totally conned you. Did they pull the good-cop, bad-cop thing?"

I was lying on her bed, staring forlornly at the little blobs in her lava lamp, letting myself drift into the hypnotic lava-lamp blob-world. There was just something so... calming about watching the little blobs of whatever the stuff in a lava lamp actually was go up and down, pushing the boundaries of their little glass home. It was so easy to get sucked in. Same with cheesy TV shows. I can't even count the number of times I'd turned on the TV and lost a whole afternoon to General Hospital or Buffy reruns. "What are you talking about, Clio?"

Clio throws me one of her patented "you can't be that stupid" looks. I usually was. "Did one of them cry and the other yell? That's about as simple as I can put it for ya, sis."

Clio was kind of a super-genius, and she knew it. She likes to play with the latest physics and maths papers and write seriously cool computer programs in her spare time. Like, half of the things installed on my laptop were hers. She was kind of insufferable about it sometimes. "I don't know. I guess? I was kind of distracted."

She snorted. "Yeah, I bet. How are you gonna run things if you can't even tell when you're being manipulated by Mom of all people? She's really not..." She pauses, her face turning thoughtful. "subtle."

I sigh. "I... really have no clue. I'm so out of my depth here. I wish you were older, Clio. You'd be way better at this job than me." She really would.

She smirks. "Probably." Her face drops. "But I'd never want it. The stress alone is killer."

She's right. I've only been Death for an hour and I already know this is going to suck majorly. I take a deep breath. Come on Max. Focus on the afterward. This will all be over soon, then you can go curl up in bed with Evangelion. I'd just downloaded the entire thing last night, but then all... this happened.

I went back to staring at the lava lamp. Clio was quiet for a second, then I heard her stand up and wander over to her desk and sit down at her huge computer. It was kind of her baby. She'd spent years upgrading and adding to it and now it was like a patchwork Frankenstein's monster of a thing, just... perching on her desk. Creeped the hell out of me.

I tilted my head and looked at her. "What are you doing?" Even when I'm panicking, I can't stop being nosey.

"Checking something."

Dog, I hated short answers like that. They just made me want to know even more.

"Checking what?"

"Your probability of success." She looked back at me, answering my unasked next question. "Of running Death and not getting thrown into Purgatory before your first day is up."

I pulled myself up so I was sitting upright. "Well? What's the bad news?"

She turned in her chair and started working on the computer again without saying anything. I stared at her for a second, then rolled over and stared at the ceiling instead while I waited. A couple of minutes later, Clio chirped up again. "Better odds than I would've thought."

"Oh?" I asked, almost smiling for the first time today. I could do with some good news right now. "How am I gonna do?"

"The computer gives you a seventy-two percent chance-"

I grinned. That's seriously reassuring. If Clio AND her computer thought I could...

"-of failure."

Wait.

What?

"Failure?! I thought you said it was better than you thought it'd be?" I could feel the panic growing in my head and I desperately stamped on it to keep it back.

She shrugged obliviously. "I gave you a 90% chance of failure. Guess the computer's just a sap." Her face lit up. "I'm going to play around with it, see what I can come up with."

Seventy-two percent. I thought about it, and it wasn't that bad. It wasn't, right? That's still nearly a thirty percent chance of me actually succeeding!

I sighed.

Maybe I could find some way to improve that.

Now that I was the President and CEO of Death, Inc., Jarvis had become my Executive Assistant. He'd have some sort of advice for me.

So, I left Clio happily punching buttons on her computer and went out to try find him. "Jarvis? Jarvis!" Wait, didn't Dad used to call Jarvis magically somehow? I tried to remember what he did before Jarvis popped up. Nothing. So, I waved a hand and loudly called the Faun's name, trying to think magic thoughts. Maybe the perk had transferred over to me.

Two seconds later, the little guy just appeared in front of me, looking sort of shocked. "Mistr..." He stopped himself, took a breath and forced a smile onto his face. I smiled back, trying to show how grateful I was. "Miss Maxine. You called for me?"

I nod. "Yeah, I'm, uh... I'm trying to work out what I should do, now I'm... you know." My shoulders sag. "Death."

Jarvis' face splits in a huge, pleased grin. His little moustache twitches like a weird electrified caterpillar. "Miss Maxine! I'm so pleased to hear you're taking an interest. Now, let me see." He magics up a little notebook from the air and flips through it. "You are expected at the offices for a meeting with the Board." He stops and looks at me.

I stare back. "Okay..? Anything else?"

He shakes his head. "Not yet. I'm sure you will be called upon for more after the meeting."

I open my mouth to ask something else, when I suddenly remember something. "Uh, what about school?"

"School?"

"Blackwell." I tilt my head. "They're probably wondering where I am, right? I've missed a ton of classes."

Jarvis wafted a dismissive hand at me. "Oh, don't worry. That will be taken care of. Apparently I gave them..." He frowned, then flipped through his little notebook again. "a sick note, whatever that is." He shrugs. "They seemed pleased by it, whatever it was."

I let out a long breath. Okay. So that's taken care of. Now what do I worry about? Whenever I don't have a specific thing to stress about, I just end up getting vaguely worried about something non-specific and that's kind of even worse.

I open my eyes to see Jarvis peering at me with concern. Not for me, mostly just like I was going to explode or cry all over his suit or something. "Are you..?"

I nod, mutely, not trusting myself to speak. He peers at me harder, so I smile in an attempt to comfort him. "I'm okay. Just need to sit down or something. Take it all in." That's a thing, right? Right.

He tilts his head in acknowledgement. "Fair enough. You can use your father's study. I will let you know when we need to leave for the meeting.".


There was a quick rapid-fire knock on the door. I shuffled in my dad's chair and tried to sit straighter. I'm a CEO now, right? I should sort of look the part. I looked down at my hoodie and jeans. Well. Act the part, anyway. I waited for the door to open.

One second passed.

Then another.

Someone outside the door coughed loudly and knocked again. I frowned. What? Why aren't they coming in? Am I missing something? I thought back to when Dad had taken visitors in here before and...

Oh.

"Come in!" I called out. The door swung open immediately and Jarvis walked in, followed by a weirdly tall guy in a suit. He looked like a rookie detective from a cop show. I could see Jarvis carefully controlling his look of disgust. The faun loved fashion, so someone dressing like that was bound to bug him.

Huh. That's probably one reason why we'd never really gotten along. I wasn't really the most fashion-conscious person, I guess.

"Miss Reaper-Caulfield. This is Detective Davenport from the Psychical Bureau of Investigations. He wants to talk to you about the situation with your father and the board."

The guy smiled blandly at me. It was one of those professional smiles you used to handle people you didn't really need anything from. Even I could tell this guy thought being foisted off on one of Death's kids was a waste of time.

I nod for a second, then think more about what my dad used to do. I wave him over. "Hi, I'm Max. Max Reaper-Caulfield. Please, sit down."

He stepped into the office and took a seat in one of the big leather chairs in front of the desk. He pulled out a notebook and pen as he sat down. "Alright, Miss Reaper-Caulfield, I'm just here to ask you a few questions and try to gather as much information about what happened as I can. Now, can you tell me where you were when the kidnapping occurred?"

I blinked. "Um. I don't know? Nobody's said when it actually happened. School, probably."

He nods, writes something in his notepad. "Two days ago, mid-afternoon. Around 3-5 pm, we think."

"Definitely school then. I was in English from 3-4, then I went back to my room."

He nods, writes something else. "Okay, can you tell me what happened between then and now?"

I shrugged and went through everything that'd happened. The normal lesson stuff, feeling sick, Jarvis appearing in the bathroom, the whole forgetting charm situations, everything. He listened and took lots of notes, only making occasional 'hmm' sounds to keep me talking. It was so weird. I'd only ever seen this happen on TV, so actually being interviewed was so surreal.

When I told him about Jarvis appearing, he finally looked up. After a second looking at me, he asked "So, your father's Executive Assistant was directed by..." He flicked back through his notebook. "your mother to escort you here?"

I nodded. "Yeah." I tilted my head and quickly amended, "Well, he's my Executive Assistant now, not my Dad's."

The detective's head shot up so fast I was surprised it stayed attached to his neck. "I'm sorry? Excuse me, did you say he's your assistant now?"

I nodded again. "Yeah." I frowned. "I did mention that, didn't I?"

He swallowed and I noticed he'd started to sweat. "You're... you're Death?" That's when I realised he didn't know that I was the new boss around here. 'Interim Boss', the little voice in my head added.

I shrugged, offered him a self-deprecating smile. "That's what they tell me."

His mouth dropped open a little and he completely stopped blinking. "I... I... Oh God," He swallowed hard again and licked his lips nervously. "Please, please forgive me. Had I realised... what... who..."

I shrugged, trying to hide how completely unnerved I was seeing this guy so scared suddenly. "Forget about it. It's okay. Nothing to apologise for. You're just doing your job, right?"

When he didn't respond, I focused in on his face, noticing for the first time that he wasn't. His entire body was shaking, and I every muscle I could see had tensed up. His eyes were what freaked me out the most though. They'd gone glassy and numb, like he'd just hidden away in his head to try get away from what had scared him so much...

Me.

I reached over and poked him, trying to bring him back.

The moment the detective dropped, I'd screamed for Jarvis, who'd burst through the door like a movie hero. He looked over the situation and worked out what to do in a second, crouching by the detective and checking his pulse. "Thank God you hadn't received all your powers yet, or this man would be dead."

I blinked at the little Faun, who was wafting some smelling salts under the detective's nose. Dead..? "What the hell are you talking about?"

Jarvis snorts. "You can't just go around scaring people to death, Maxine. Of all the irresponsible..." I tune out then. I really can't listen to another Jarvis lecture. I'll let you fill in the rest. He goes on for a while.

I felt myself getting more and more angry by the minute. "Hey, don't yell at me, Jarvis! Nobody told me what the hell I'm doing here! It's not like there's an instruction manual or anything that I..."

Jarvis interrupted my rant without batting an eyelid. "Second desk drawer on the right."

I... Wowzers.

I opened the drawer and immediately found the book Jarvis was referring to. It was smaller than I expected, maybe a little smaller than those Bibles you always get in hotels (AN: From a Brit to everyone else, I've always been curious how many countries this sort of thing happens in. Pretty sure Gideons is American, so I expect it happens in the US, but I'm not 100% on that. Anyways, if you get religious texts in hotel drawers in your country, please let me know, I'm hella curious.) and plain black, except for five golden-embossed words on the front cover.

Death: An Annotated Rule Book.