-/-/-/-/- Twenty-two hours before Now, approx. 10:00 AM
Mason paced his living room furiously. A battle of wills raged within his mind. "Rube'll kill me," he muttered to himself. "Rube will definitely kill me." It didn't matter that he was already dead; Rube would find a way. Yet, despite that, he couldn't get past the fact that Jexter recognized him and that he somehow knew both who and what Mason was. Nor could Mason ignore the fact that something was going on for Jexter to be in town in the first place.
Mason stopped and let out a frustrated yell. He sighed. "Rube is going to chop me up into little bits and eat me for breakfast," he told himself ruefully. He'd made his mind up. He would just have to be careful to not be caught.
He reached into his jacket, feeling around for the makeshift pocket he knew was there. He hadn't put it there; the jacket's previous owner had used it to conceal a wicked sharp knife. Mason had ditched the knife and put his wand in its place.
Mason wasn't a heavy magic user, unlike most wizards. Most of his time was spent in the Muggle world. He would occasionally stop at the local wizard haunts and stores for a change of scenery or when he had a post-it note. He didn't think that Rube knew those particular locations were wizarding haunts, but none of Mason's coworkers ever had to go to those places in his stead.
He'd kept this wand with him since he'd become a reaper. He'd left the one he'd owned in life with his body, but this one worked just as well. It was eight inches, pine, with a feather from a crow's right wing dyed in augury blood at the core. He carried it with him everywhere, even though long stretches of time could pass without him using it.
He transferred the wand to his left hand and walked over to one of the tables. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out the map he'd seen in there earlier. It was a map of Seattle and a small portion of the surrounding area. He wrestled it open and laid it out on the table. "This had better work," he murmured.
He tapped each corner of the map once with the tip of his wand. "Locate Jexter Rayne."
At once, a small number of areas on the map glowed bright yellow. They indicated every part of the town Jexter had gone to. In some places, there were streaks where Jexter had walked in a straight line; in other places, there were blotches were he'd meandered about in a confined space. Mason recognized the alley that contained the wizarding mini mall known as Listrious Place. Nearly that entire area was alight. Mason also noticed a blot of light at the site of the bar they'd been at the previous night. There were many streaks that ran alongside some of the streets, indicating the routes Jexter had taken when walking from place to place about the city. Some of those routes led to a few other bars, while other routes led to places Mason didn't recognize.
Mason studied the map a moment. "All right, then." He slid the wand back in its pocket, then folded up the map and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. He pulled out a yellow post-it note from his right pants pocket and glanced at his watch. His eyes bulged. "Shit!" He'd wasted too much time already. He'd never get there in time to catch his appointment if he walked. That left him with only one choice.
"I really hate doing this," he muttered to himself. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and took a half step forward.
One breathless, squeezing-the-life-out-of-him moment later, he opened his eyes and found himself in a bathroom stall in the same building as his appointment. Mason let out a sigh of relief, thankful to have survived Apparating yet again. Each time he did it, he expected to end up in pieces.
He heard a slight gasp. Mason winced and looked behind him at the open-mouthed, staring man sitting on the toilet.
Mason smiled and waved a little. "Just a figment of your imagination," he told the poor man. Hurriedly, before the man could come to his senses, Mason pulled open the stall door and shot out of it and the bathroom.
Once he was safely out in the corridor, he looked around. He was at City Hall. The corridor was long and white and the floor was covered in tiled, midnight blue marble. According to his post-it, the death would occur somewhere in the corridor. At the moment, however, he was the only one there.
Mason started pacing up the corridor. He stopped near the doors and, taking the map out, leaned against the wall. The streaks and blotches on the map were still there, but no new marks had appeared. Either Jexter had left the city or he was in one of the places already indicated on the map. Mason hoped it was the latter.
The doors to the men's and women's bathrooms opened simultaneously. Three men and two women walked out. Mason turned his attention to them and watched. One of the women, who clutched several bags tightly in her hands, collided with the second man. Her bags swung, and the contents of one fell out and spilled across the floor.
One of the front doors swung outward. An immaculately dressed woman in high heels walked in. Her attention was focused completely on searching through her purse.
Mason reached over and brushed his fingers against her upper arm. She didn't appear to notice and kept going. Ten feet away, she skidded on one of the objects spilled on the floor. Despite her attempts to prevent it, she lost her balance and fell with a sickening crack against the marble. Mason winced sympathetically.
The soul of B. Graceland rose up out of her body. He watched her glance around and waited for her to make her way over to him, but there was no need; Ms. Graceland required none of his assistance. A blue-tinted light lit up the far end of the corridor. Mason squinted and could just make out what looked like the entrance to a sweet shop. Smiling, he watched as she made her way over to it and walked into it.
Mason chuckled. He turned away and headed outside. Once out on the sidewalk, he headed for Listrious Place, which was three blocks away. It was the closest point on the map.
The entrance to Listrious Place was a blank wall painted brown. Only wizards or witches could pass through the barrier. The only thing that Muggles encountered was a hard wall. The lower half of the wall was covered in posters and sheets of paper advertising various Muggle-related events, bands and campaigns.
He checked to see if anyone was looking. Seeing no one, Mason slid through the barrier and emerged at the other side.
Listrious Place wasn't the only magic shopping center in town, but it was the better one. The alley was covered over by a glass awning, and the temperature underneath it was always the most desirable according to the weather outside. The floor was the color of amber and the storefronts were made up of solid browns and whites and muted colors of green, blue and red. In the middle of the alley was a small fountain whose bottom was nearly obscured by coins.
The shops were of the type one would expect to find in a magic-inclined mall. There was a store that sold magic books, quills, and ink; another sold owls and other wizarding pets. There was a larger store that doubled as a clothing and beauty supply store, and there was a sporting goods store that sold supplies for Quidditch and Quodpot.
The place was crowded. Mason wondered if there were any holidays coming up but couldn't remember any. Then again, the mall usually had a reasonable crowd in it, or at least it did on the few occasions he came there.
He walked steadily through the mall, hoping to catch a glimpse of his cousin. He didn't have any luck. Jexter may have come there before, but he'd obviously gotten what he needed then.
Mason let out a relieved breath when he stepped back through the barrier and onto the street, happy to be out of the mall. He pulled the map out again and looked for the next closest spot. It was a bar. Mason opted to scope it out that night; in the meantime, he headed for the next location, a wizarding restaurant and hotel called Barnub's.
The hotel lobby looked like any other hotel lobby, and that was on purpose; there was even a working computer behind the registration desk. Nothing magical could be found anywhere within the room. Such measures had been taken in the event that Muggles got past the Muggle Repelling Charms on the doors. The rooms beyond the lobby, however, were heavily laden with magic. There were moving portraits and photographs, radios blasting music broadcast from the Washington Wizarding World station, coffeepots that heated and poured themselves, and all sorts of other charmed objects.
This time, Mason struck pay dirt. According to the desk clerk, a J. Rayne had checked in two days ago and he had yet to check out. Mason waited until the clerk had gone to the bathroom before sneaking around the counter and searching the computer records for Jexter's room. Mason let out a quiet, "Yes!" when he'd found the room number before sneaking back around the desk and down the adjoining hall.
He passed a room containing four fireplaces where a hotel employee was collecting tolls from two witches departing by floo. Not much farther from the fireplace room, he reached the stairs and bounded up them to the fifth floor.
Jexter's room was near the end of the shorter corridor on the right. Mason knocked on the door, but as expected, no one answered. He put his ear to the door and listened for a moment, but he couldn't hear a sound from within.
He pulled his wand out and pointed it at the doorknob. "Alohomora."Nothing happened. Mason shrugged, took out his lock-picking kit and crouched down before the door handle.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" a voice demanded from behind him. Startled, Mason shot to his feet and whirled around, hiding his kit behind his back and attempting an innocent expression. He came face to face with a portrait hung on the wall directly across from the door. Annoyed, Mason queried, "What's it to you?"
"I'm supposed to guard this floor, that's what," answered the portrait, indignant. The portrait showed a bald old man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and khaki slacks. He stood posed on an empty beach. As Mason watched, a woman clad in what could barely be described as a bikini sauntered into the frame. She giggled and blew the reaper a kiss before scurrying back off the portrait.
Mason fought down a smile. It was a battle he was losing, badly. "You're supposed to guard this floor?"
The man, who according to the inscription was a Vance Hollyquick, glared at Mason. Vance's eyes narrowed and he took a step forward, suddenly curious. "You look familiar." His eyes widened, and he gaped. "It's you!" he gasped, incredulous. "My reaper!"
Mason's eyes bulged. His eyes darted down to the inscription. "V. Hollyquick?" he murmured as he reviewed his memories. It took him a bit, but he suddenly remembered it. Mason didn't remember the names of every soul he'd reaped, but Hollyquick was an unusual name. It had been twenty years ago, give or take a year. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember the particulars. "Um…live wire, wasn't it?"
Vance nodded. "Damn lightning hit an electricity wire and the wire fell on the pool while I was in it." He shook his head in wonder. "It really is you, isn't it?"
"Yeah." Mason said, nodding. He cocked his head and glanced around. Curious, he asked, "Can all portraits remember how they died? I mean, how the real people died?"
Vance shrugged. "No idea. I just remembered it myself. It all came to me when I recognized you." He shook his head and folded his arms across his head. "So. Still in the reaping business?" He stiffened and resumed glaring. "Or do you rob hotel rooms for a living now?"
"Er…" Somehow, Mason didn't think it was a good time to bring up the whole reapers-don't-get-paid-so-he-stole-from-the-recently-dead part of his afterlife. Instead, he hastily placed his kit back inside his jeans and asked, "Look, about the bloke that's staying here, when was the last time you saw him?"
Vance studied him. "You going to take his soul or something?"
"Or something," replied Mason, smiling slightly.
The portrait shrugged. "He came by late last night but left early this morning, hasn't been by since."
"Damn," Mason muttered. He debated waiting up there for his cousin. His stomach chose that moment to announce its presence, and Mason decided it would be a better use of his time to wait downstairs in the restaurant. "Well, thanks for everything," he told Vance. He started walking back down the corridor only to pause. "Oh, and about the whole reaping thing-"
"I know, I know, I won't tell." Vance smiled conspiratorially. "The wizarding world may be used to ghosts, but grim reapers, as we both know, are just a myth."
Mason laughed. He liked this guy, portrait, whatever. "Thanks."