More Than Flesh & Bone

Chapter 8

PASS THE MIC

For as annoying as my new mentor was, he sure had a great ass. As soon as we'd pulled up to his house, he'd jumped out and strode over to a detached white garage to press some kind of hidden button. I'd been a little slower, enjoying the view as I climbed out the passenger side. A girl had to find the silver lining where she could.

I'd just reached his side when one of three garage doors was fully open. Zed's garage was easily the size of a house in its own right. It was more than a garage. It was like an auto shop. Two cars could have fit in the space revealed by the door, but there was only one with a cloth tarp draped over it. In the bay next to it, another car was covered. I could see a part of my wrecked BMW peeking from beneath its shroud.

Before I could say anything, Zed stepped inside and gave the first canvas a tug, revealing a 1967 Chevy Impala. Black, of course.

My breath left me in one low whoosh. I recognized the car. Hell, eighty percent of the population probably did. But I knew it for a different reason. It was my twin's dream car.

"Trace and I were fixing it up together," Zed said as I moved to stand beside the Impala, my hand hovering over the shiny paint. "We were waiting for a part to come in, and it did right before he died. I installed it right before the funeral. He never got to see her all finished, but…" Zed trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'm glad Trace finally got around to it," I said. "He'd been talking about it since we were kids."

Zed let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, he was pretty into the idea of being the real-life version of Supernatural."

"Sounds like something he'd say," I said, shaking my head.

"Anyway," Zed said, "the car's yours if you want it."

My answer was immediate. "Hell yeah, I want it." Not only was the car bad-ass, but it would be a way for me to feel close to my twin. Zed couldn't begin to understand how much that meant to me, and I was not about to tell him. Some things were too personal to share.

He moved to the wall and lifted a keyring off a small hook, holding them out to me on one finger. I let my fingers softly trail along the car as I moved around the back and caught a glimpse at the license plate. BAAAAA.

I stopped dead, a snort escaping. Tracey with his jet-black hair, as opposed to my former blonde, always joked that he was the black sheep of the family. "I cannot believe you let him put that on his license plate."

Zed's lips twitched up in a smile. "You give me too much credit. There was no talking Trace out of anything once his mind was set. You two are a lot alike in some ways."

I narrowed my eyes at the jab. Closing the distance between us, I snatched the keys from his outstretched finger. "Just try to keep up," I smirked, opening the door and sliding into the driver's seat.

"Uh, Addison? You destroyed one car already, maybe go a little easier on this one?" He quirked a brow.

I rolled my eyes. "See you at my place," I said over my shoulder as I climbed in the car. The smooth leather interior brought me back to better memories I had to keep at bay for the moment. I closed the door and strapped myself in. One twist of the key and the engine roared to life. I allowed myself one second to caress the steering wheel and enjoy the feeling of all that horsepower vibrating around me before I threw her into reverse, only pausing to roll the window down and yell, "Eat my dust!"

I whipped the Impala around and took it easy going down the driveway as the gates opened. Headlights flashed in my review just as I turned onto Mansion Lane. It wasn't actually called that, but given that's all that was on the road, it was a fairly accurate name.

I shifted gears then slammed on the gas, taking off like a pro. The car shot forward as I tested the limits. One might think that after being in an accident, I'd take it easy. Thing was, this time I was wearing a seatbelt, and I wasn't searching for Takis… although now that I thought about it I kind of wanted some. I was also on a straight road that led basically nowhere. It was probably the safest place to do this. At least that's what I told myself.

Truth was, I was a car junkie.

Not for the rebuilding aspect, but for the speed. The power.

Behind the wheel of a sick ride like this, I was on top of the world, until my own gates came into sight. I realized a second too late that I didn't have the remote control to open the gate.

Stopping out front, I debated the merits of hopping it and decided that ten-foot monstrosity would be a bitch to climb. I was still considering my options when Zed's car rolled up behind me. The giant W filigree split apart as the entrance opened.

That bastard must have had Trace's clicker. As I rolled down the driveway to the Wells mansion, I made a mental note to steal it out of his car before he left.

I stopped halfway around the circle driveway and hopped out. Bree wasn't here just yet, and I suspected it might be a little while given her free rein with my credit card.

Zed stopped behind me and came to join me as I started for the door.

"What are you planning to tell your aunt?" he asked as we approached.

I shrugged. "If I'm lucky I won't even have to explain. She's not all there anyways."

Little did I know how fast my point would be proven.

I opened the front door and standing there in the living room right off the entryway was my aunt, Missy.

Naked. Painting a canvas on a standing easel with an over-sized palette in her other hand.

My jaw dropped as I tried to find the words.

"Addie," my aunt said happily. She set aside the paint palette and brush, and I saw way more of her than I ever wanted to in that single motion as EVERYTHING up front was no on display. "I'm so happy you decided to come home…"

"Missy, what are you doing?!" I asked, folding my arms over my chest uncomfortably. Zed was silent beside me, and I didn't even want to look and see what his face said.

"Painting," she answered like it was obvious.

"Without clothes?" I prompted, trying to see where she thought this was a good idea.

"Well, they get dirty every time," she said. "Even with a smock on I somehow end up with paint everywhere. I figured this way I could just shower off when I'm done."

Well, there was a certain amount of logic there.

I suppose it shouldn't have surprised me. She always was a bit more… eclectic in her hobbies. Like my father, she inherited a vast fortune that made it where she didn't need a real job. In lieu of that, she'd taken up some rather interesting hobbies over the years. Tree shaping. Making ASMR YouTube videos. Taxidermy.

You know… the usual stuff.

"Can you just… cover yourself up or something?" I asked in a pained tone, staring at her forehead.

"Don't be a prude, Addie, dear. The human body is a beautiful thing."

Zed started to laugh but covered it by coughing.

"So that's a no on the clothes, then?"

My aunt lifted her shoulder in a shrug. "I have nothing to be embarrassed about. I don't see why you do."

"Of course you don't," I muttered, grasping Zed's arm and pulling him along behind me. It's hard to forget, but spend enough time away and you eventually do. While a strong woman, Missy was also a bit odd… and just a few bolts short of being certifiably cuckoo.

"Nice to see you again, Missy," Zed called over his shoulder as I dragged him out of the foyer and down the hall on the left.

If my aunt replied, I didn't hear it. I was too busy booking it to my room.

"Trace always said your aunt was eccentric, but that's the first time I got…"

"An eyeful?" I supplied.

"Yeah."

Dropping his arm, I opened my door and walked into my old room. It was exactly the way I left it. Band posters lined the walls, a sweater was tossed over the corner of my bed, and a book was open on my desk like I'd stepped out in the middle of reading, which, come to think of it, may have been the case.

"I see the love of 80's music was something you and Trace had in common," Zed said, still standing in the doorway as his eyes scanned the room.

I shrugged and moved to the bed, my hand reaching automatically for the little stuffed sheep Tracey had crocheted for me. It was hideous. A black sheep with little white bones stitched on top of it like a weird suit of armor. Missy had been going through a crochet phase, which was one of her more normal hobbies, and my brother had been eager to learn. The stuffie may be ugly, but it was still impressive, considering.

Setting it back down, I faced Zed once more. "It could have been worse, I guess," I said, returning to our talk about Missy.

"Worse than your aunt being naked?" he asked with a bemused lift of his brow.

"Yeah. She could have been doing her throat singing. Or taxidermy. Or there was a time she was selling sex toys and kept trying to get me to test them out and give her reviews."

Zed held up his hands, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "Okay, I get it." He laughed a little longer and then looked at me with curious eyes. "So, did you do it?"

"Do what?" I asked.

"Test out her toys?" The sensual curve of his lips as he grinned made my cheeks heat.

"Why, do you need some?" I replied like a smartass, ignoring the way my heart began to beat faster. "I think there's a drawer that still has a few in their packaging. I'm sure if you ask she'd be more than happy to make a personal recommendation for you."

"I'm good, thanks," he said, his lips still twitching with laughter.

"That's what I thought."

"Thought about what?" Bree asked, pushing past Zed as she walked into my room, dragging a hot pink suitcase behind her.

Any amusement lingering on Zed's face vanished at the appearance of my best friend. In response, she pulled the suitcase up in a standing position and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Zombie," she said, lips pursed.

"Mind your rank, Succubus," he replied in kind.

I groaned. "Are you two seriously going to do this right now?" I asked them both. They looked between each other and me. Bree broke first, letting out a frustrated breath.

"I'm sorry… it's an adjustment. His kind and mine don't get along well. Largely because they like ripping our souls out and shredding them. Kinda hard to find a middle ground when that's the starting point," Bree said. Zed's stare only hardened at her words, and I sensed this going downhill quickly.

"You're the one that suggested this meeting, B. Hard as it might be, get it together, because I'm a Reaper now too," I said making sure I didn't say the Z word in Zed's presence. "You need a middle ground? You're looking at it." I motioned to myself and the tension left her shoulders.

Zed sighed. "So where do we start?"

"I think you two need to accept that you're different species, and while you don't like each other, when I'm around you need to at least try to be civil. Sort of. We don't have all of eternity for you two to argue… wait, do we?" I asked. "Is this like books and movies? Do I get to live forever?"

The concept of eternity was entirely new and insanely scary when it was a real possibility.

"No," Zed answered. "It doesn't work that way."

"But that's a great example of why we need to do this," Bree followed up, coming to sit next to me on the bed. "You need supernatural 101, so to speak. What you are. What you can do. What you can't do, and why… All that jazz the rest of us learn when we come into our powers." She took my hand and squeezed. The moment was short but sweet. Then she got up and hauled the suitcase across the room, closing the door as she did so.

"Okay, so what's first?" I asked.

"The history," Zed said.

At the same time, Bree answered, "The Council."

And just like that, we were back to them glaring at each other.

"If we start from the beginning, it's easier to head off her questions," Zed said, defending his position.

"I already gave her the gist of it," Bree answered haughtily as she unzipped the suitcase and started unpacking it into the chest of drawers. "You assholes have been killing off my kind and everyone else's for a few hundred years. Lately, we've started fighting back. There. Done."

"That is such an oversimplification it's not even accurate…"

"And your version of the history is?" Bree asked, lifting a well-defined brow.

"Alright," I said, cutting them both off as they opened their collective mouths to go at it some more. "Here's what we're going to do." I got up and plucked my old hairbrush off the vanity, extending it toward Zed.

"You're giving me a… hairbrush?" he asked, looking from it back up to me. "I'm not sure what this is supposed to do exactly…"

"It's your mic," I answered, pulling out my cell phone. "Each of you gets five minutes. You pass it back and forth and neither of you can talk when the other has the mic. Got it?"

My answer came in the form of disgruntled huffs under their breath. Given what I was working with, I'd take it.

Zed's hand wrapped around the brush, a fire lighting in his eyes as he started. "In order to understand what you are, it's important that you know why Reapers exist. The Black Plague wasn't because of a bunch of diseased fleas carried by rats like you were taught in school. It was actually a pack of rogue vampires. In order to reestablish the balance, we were created to cull the rogues and keep the peace. Boundaries were drawn, all with the purpose of ensuring humans never found out about our world. When those boundaries are threatened, Reapers step in and eliminate the threat. We're actually named for the Brothers Grimm. They were the two most famous Reapers," he added when I opened my mouth to ask why. "Their stories have been modified over time, but the originals were retellings of their most infamous supernatural takedowns."

Bree scoffed, and I glared at her. She rolled her eyes and mimed locking her lips.

"So we're like the police, and the judge and jury?" I asked.

Zed nodded. "Yes, originally. As you can imagine, it's quite hard to kill a supe. Every species has a weakness, but a Reaper is the ultimate weapon against all supernatural kind. We were created for this purpose. We are faster, stronger, and more gifted than those we hunt. We have to be. It's how we're able to capture the condemned. Once captured, we remove the soul from the body and shred it to ensure that the creature cannot come back to life and continue breaking the law… which even a succubus can admit would put the entire supernatural community at risk.

"Seems harsh," I muttered.

Bree gave me a look that clearly said, "You think?"

"So what happens to a soul once it's shredded?" I ask.

Zed shrugs. "It depends. Most fade away, but sometimes a very powerful being can attach itself to an empty vessel…"

"Attach itself?"

Bree coughs, not so subtly saying, "demons," under her breath.

Zed glared at her but did not correct her. "It's what you've heard of as a possession or hauntings," he said to me. "Both are caused by shredded souls that have attached themselves to something physical in order to stay anchored to this world."

The phone alarm went off, and Bree was already holding out her hand demanding the hairbrush. Zed handed it over, looking like he was far from finished. I reset the timer.

"Okay, go."

"So fast forward a few hundred years. The Council was made to help establish equal representation for all supernatural species. Zombies aren't allowed to just decide who gets to be reaped anymore. They did that for so long that many species are on the brink of extinction. Yes, Zombies are still the head of the Council, but now there are rules that say what level of punishment is allowed for certain crimes. For more complex cases, the Council has to agree on a reaping. Everyone in Seabrook is governed by the Council's laws. In fact, once a supe comes into their power, they need to register with the Council. No one is permitted to leave the town without permission from the Council. It's part of how they ensure that the human world is kept safe from us."

"Are there other Councils?" I asked.

"Outside of Seabrook?" Bree replied.

"Yeah."

"No." She shook her head. "That's why all supes are required to register and stay in Seabrook. It's the only supe haven in the world."

"But I left town," I said. She smiled, but it wasn't happy. It was like she knew I was going to say that.

"Yes, because everyone thought you were human. Humans can come and go as they please. But the rest of us have to stay here. Why do you think I never followed you to LA?"

I spluttered for a moment, and she lifted both eyebrows. "I thought you were invested in being a legacy at Seabrook University," I said.

"That's because I couldn't tell you otherwise. I wanted to follow you there the whole time, but we don't get to leave. If you register with The Council, that's your fate. Whether or not they accept you… which they likely won't because it's been a sausage fest for their entire history." She paused, looking at Zed's face with a sick satisfaction. He clearly wanted to speak, but without the mic he chose to stand there and grimace.

"Why has there never been a girl reaper before?" I asked.

"Because the gene only goes to males," Zed said, interrupting as Bree opened her mouth to answer.

"First, it's my turn, Zombie. Second, how many women have your brotherhood tried to trigger before?" she asked.

Zed opened and closed his mouth before finally saying, "None… Obviously. The only way to trigger a Grim is for them to die by supernatural means."

"But I didn't," I said. "I got in a car accident."

"We'll come back to that," Bree said. "But first I want to address the obvious. What are the odds that every woman in the original families' lines were actually 'reapers', just like Adds? What if you guys were just too misogynistic to even consider it, and because of that, you think only guys can do the job? Just food for thought." Bree was looking pretty damn proud of herself at that moment given Zed didn't have an answer. "Now," she said, turning back to me. "You died in an accident, but you said something ran into the road. What if whatever that was, was supernatural and therefore counted… which is why you transitioned when you died?"

"I suppose," I said, thinking back on it. "I don't remember what it was exactly. Only that it had red eyes and a lot of fur…" Which as soon as you think about it, really only led to one thing.

"Red eyes," Bree repeated, looking back and forth between me and Zed. "Sounds supernatural to me." Zed opened his mouth to talk, and Bree said, "Don't even think about it."

"But you're guessing based on a single detail," Zed said, clearly exasperated. "Maybe it counted, maybe not. Either way, we don't know if every girl is a reaper. Maybe it's because Tracey died, and they were twins."

She glared at him. "It's possible, but given you guys never tested it, I'm not ruling it out. And either way, if she goes before the Council, the only species she can be lumped in with is you guys."

"But I don't want to go before the Council," I said, interrupting her, because unlike them I didn't have to follow my rules. "We know I'm a Zomb… Grim. The council doesn't. And Zed here said a werewolf killed my dad and brother. If I go to the Council, they'll then know what I am, because everyone is represented. Right?"

They nodded.

"Until I catch whoever, or whatever, killed my father and my brother, I don't want to go anywhere near the Council."

Zed opened his mouth, but Bree beat him to the punch. "That's easier said than done. If anyone catches you using your powers, they could report you. You'd have to hide what you are from everyone but us. Do you really think you could keep that up for long? You're not exactly the most subtle person in the world."

"If I had to…" I started, but she wasn't wrong. As both she and Zed pointed out, I was a shit liar.

"We'll protect you for as long as we can," Zed said, speaking for them both. Bree wasn't thrilled about it, but she nodded alongside him. "Regardless of what you do about the Council, you need to learn how to use your powers. If you get caught unaware, you could out yourself without even knowing it."

"So what does that look like?" I asked Zed, already dreading his answer.

"We start with the basics. Cardio, weightlifting, target practice."

I grumbled, not remotely happy about this plan.

"Once your powers manifest we'll go into seeing souls and how to remove and shred them. But for now, we'll keep it simple. Tomorrow's leg day."

Bree was smirking, knowing exactly how miserable I was at the thought alone.

"I hate both of you," I said, crossing my arms.

Zed shrugged. "I can live with that."

"You should ask them what to do about us," a nasally voice said from behind me. I jumped and spun, my hand over my heart as it thundered in my chest.

"Who the fuck invited you?" I gasped, staring hard at the unfamiliar male. He looked like some kind of Gothic poet, dressed like he was straight out of the eighteen hundreds, complete with lace cuffs and a piece of white fabric wrapped around his throat. His hair was greasy, hanging around his pale face in a limp curtain. His thin lips were pressed together, and his eyes were just as dark and creepy as Not-Morticia's.

"Adds… who are you talking to?" Bree asked, concern thick in her voice.

I spun around, looking between both of them. "Don't you see him too?" I asked Zed.

His eyes darted to the corner of the room where I'd been staring. "Uh… no?"

"Eddie," I asked, turning back to what I now realized was another ghost. "Why can't anyone else see you?"

"Who's Eddie?" he asked.

I groaned. "Not the point, buddy."

The Edgar Allan Poe doppelganger shrugged. "Who am I to know about what these peasants can or cannot do? I am here for you."

Despite the fact that none of this was remotely funny, I snickered, far too amused that he just referred to Zed as a peasant.

"Okay, next question," I said, facing Zed and Bree once more. "Why can I see and talk to ghosts?"

Zed blinked at me while Bree's mouth fell open.

"Uh… that's not normal," Zed said. "Are you sure they're ghosts that you're talking to?"

"What the hell else would they be?" I said, looking over at Eddie. "This guy just called you a peasant."

Zed's brow furrowed, and Bree let out a cackle.

"Maybe it's a girl Zombie thing?" my best friend suggested. "I mean you weren't all that sure on the car accident. Maybe her powers work a little different than yours."

"I guess it's possible… Would explain the hair difference, too…" Zed said, scratching the back of his head.

"Do you think there's a way to talk to Trace?" I asked, the thought making my chest squeeze a little. "I haven't seen his ghost hanging around but maybe if I can find him I could ask who killed him."

Zed and Bree's faces both cleared, and they looked at each other, totally in tune for the first time since we started this chat. "Eliza," they both said in unison.

"Who's that?" I asked, my brows furrowing.

"A witch," Bree said, closing my dresser drawers with a hard thunk. "She loans out spells for a price. Sells magical artifacts. Knows a lot about a lot. She's kind of the oddball in the community because while she's a witch, she doesn't belong to a coven. She just does her own thing."

"She sounds like a smart businesswoman," I mused.

"Something like that," Zed said. "She's best known for her discretion. If you go to Eliza, it doesn't leave her shop, so to speak."

"So she's like Vegas. Awesome." I jumped up from the bed and clapped my hands together. "Sounds like she's exactly who we need to be talking to, then. What are we waiting for?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Look, I know Eliza is usually a zombie, but in this story she's a witch. Don't at me!