-/-/-/-/- 13 hours before Now, approx. 7:00 PM

Over the years, Mason had become particular adept at waiting idly for things to happen. It was an important part of being a reaper to stay as much on the sidelines as possible; that way, he had the least amount of influence on his surroundings. Granted, this was a situation where such precaution was unnecessary, but Mason utilized those skills anyway. He sat in one of the lobby sofas and spent several hours scanning magazine articles and studying the map. If Jexter didn't show before nine, Mason was going to start searching the bars. He checked his watch. It was six thirty.

Someone plopped down next to him on the couch. Mason glanced up from the map and grinned. "Jess!" he said, shaking his fellow reaper's hand.

"Mason, my man!" While Mason worked in the External Influences Division, Jesse worked in the Natural Causes Division. Jesse was an overweight thirty-something of mixed Asian/Native American ancestry, though he'd been born and raised in Sarasota, Florida.

Mason glimpsed the post-it note in Jesse's hand. "Here on business?" he inquired.

"Yep." He held up the post-it for Mason to see. Mason let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he saw it wasn't Jexter. "How about you?" Jesse asked.

Mason shook his head. "Nope, not this time. I'm waiting for someone." He glanced around again, but Jexter hadn't shown. "I ran into a portrait of a man I reaped. He recognized me."

Jesse looked surprised. "He did?" He glanced around, relaxing again when he realized there were no portraits to be seen in the lobby. "Freaky."

"You're telling me." He rubbed his nose, which itched. "I got me a new place. It's a nice one. How 'bout you?"

Jesse shook his head. "I rent a room here. I have to. Last two months, the people I've reaped either have massive numbers of family members that claim the house almost immediately, or they were guests in hotels."

"Now that is fucked up."

"You're telling me."

Shouts suddenly resounded into the lobby from within the corridor that led to the stairs. "Get away from me, you asshole!"

"But, Kate-honey, wait!"

"Don't you dare call me honey, you two-timin' little asswipe!"

Mason smiled, amused. Kate was an inventive one, if the words she continued to shout at her ex-lover were anything to go by.

"I believe that's my cue," Jesse whispered to Mason as he stood up. Mason merely nodded, afraid that if he tried to talk, only laughter would spill out. He covered his mouth with a hand in an effort to conceal his merriment.

Kate rounded the corner and stalked into the lobby, trailing a suitcase on wheels after her. She scowled at everyone she caught looking at her.

Her boyfriend appeared behind her. He looked very distraught, and he was panting heavily. A hand clutched his chest. He followed Kate on unsteady feet. "Kate, please, let me explain."

With a look of rage, Kate whirled on her heels and stared him down. He froze, wide-eyed, and visibly gulped. "What is there to explain, Jake? You had your hands all over her! You are nothing but a lying, cheating little shit for brains!"

Jake took a deep breath. He was shaking now. Mason idly wondered what was wrong with him, but didn't try to guess. He'd find out in a moment.

He watched as Jesse passed directly behind Jake, patting his back as if in sympathy. Jake didn't seem to notice. By this time, he was shaking like a leaf.

"Kate, I-I love you, you k-know…"

With a gasp and a shudder, Jake collapsed. He'd had a heart attack.

Kate watched as he fell to the floor. All anger drained from her features. "Jake?" she asked tentatively.

Spectators rushed forward, among them the desk clerk, as they realized something had gone terribly wrong. Jesse maneuvered around them on his way to the door, and Jake's soul followed behind him. Jesse waved at Mason before leaving the hotel, and Mason waved back.

An hour later, the hotel lobby was nearly empty again. The ambulance had come and gone, taking Jake's body and a distraught Kate with them. Various hotel patrons meandered about, discussing the death in the lobby in quiet tones, but Mason ignored them. He glanced up from the magazine only whenever he heard the door open.

At ten past eight, Mason glanced up and grinned happily. Jexter had just walked in. He walked across the lobby and entered the corridor without even noticing the reaper. Mason got up and followed him. He jogged to catch up before his cousin could ascend the stairs. "Hullo, Jex."

Jexter whipped out his wind and pivoted around, settling into a defensive position before he'd stopped turning.

Mason quickly held up his hands. "Woah! No need to hex me into the next millenium."

Jexter stiffened, eyes widening. "Mason? What are you doing here?"

Mason shrugged. "Looking for you. Look, I'm not going to reap you, alright? At least not today."

Jexter's eyes narrowed. "What about tomorrow?"

He shrugged again. "No clue. I hope not, though."

His cousin relaxed and lowered his arm. He licked his lips. "You are a grim reaper, though, right?"

Mason glanced around. He really hoped no one was listening in, or Rube would kill him just that much more. "Right."

When Jexter didn't raise his wand again, Mason decided it was safe to lower his arms. "So what brings you to Seattle, cuz?"

"The usual," Jexter began, then deciding that Mason might not know what that was, continued, "Fighting evil, keeping the balance."

"'F-fighting evil'?" Mason repeated, incredulous. "What the crap would you do that for?" Who was this man and what had he done to his cousin?

Jexter shrugged and smiled ruefully. "A lot of things have happened since you died, Mace." He made a face and bit his lip at this reminder.

Mason shifted from one foot to the other self-consciously. "Look, could we maybe…talk?" Mason ventured, uncertain. "Like, in your room or something?"

Jexter licked dry lips. After a moment, he nodded. "Alright. It's on the fifth floor."

The two wizards ascended the stairs in an awkward silence.

"Oh, hey, it's you again," Vance greeted Mason conversationally. Jexter shot his cousin a suspicious look, but then just rolled his eyes. Mason just looked amused.

"How's the beach?" Mason asked the portrait.

Vance grinned. "The babes are to die for." As he said this, two bikini-clad women wandered into the frame tossing a volleyball between them.

Mason chuckled. "Well, have fun with that, then."

Jexter unlocked the door and he and Mason entered the hotel room. It looked like an ordinary hotel room, for the most part. Out of curiosity, Mason went over to the closet and opened one of the doors of the wardrobe.

A rush of air flew out at his face, accompanied by a deep-throated scream. The door wrenched itself out of his grasp and slammed back shut.

"Careful, now," Jexter warned mildly, "I think there's something living in there."

"You should complain," Mason advised, just as mildly.

His cousin only shrugged. "It's the last thing on my mind, really."

He plopped down on one of the beds. Mason pulled out one of the chairs from under the table. "So…" Jexter began nervously, rubbing his hands together. "Been in the reaping business long?"

Mason shrugged. "Pretty much the entirety of my afterlife, actually." He cleared his throat. "Listed, Jex, exactly what are you doing here in Seattle?"

He sighed. "Like I said, a lot of things have happened since you…died. I own a shop in Cleveland now."

Mason fought down a smile. "Cleveland? What on Earth are you doing in Cleveland?"

Jexter looked hurt. "It's a center of mystical convergence!"

Mason coughed to hide his chuckles. "Right. So, what d'you sell?"

"Mostly wizarding supplies for potions and herbology. I have a whole greenhouse, too, really popular with the locals-I have the largest selection of magical plants and ingredients in town." He smiled, proudly. "I even cater to the Slayers!"

Mason's brow furrowed. "The who?"

Jexter gave him a frustrated glare. "The Slayers! Merlin's beard, Mace, don't reapers keep up with the times?" He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That's not important, at any rate." He sighed. "A little over a week ago, someone broke into my shop. They took a number of my more rarer items - some leaves, a few books. They were also my most valuable. That's why I've decided to track the thief down myself. If I advertise the fact that I even had the eleventh edition of The Most Gruesome of Dark Magicks, the Council is going to have my hide, no matter if I've sometimes helped them out or not. There's also the fact that whoever stole those things are obviously up to no good, no good at all."

Mason gaped at him. "Are you telling me that you've taken it upon yourself to track down someone who is probably a very powerful dark wizard?" He wanted to strangle his cousin. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

Jexter glared at him. "No, I am not out of my fucking mind! I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Oh, really." Mason crossed his arms. "And exactly how have you gone about looking for this thief?"

"I used Wiccan Magic."

Mason's jaw dropped. Astonishment and wonder rushed into him. "'W-wiccan Magic?" he repeated, unable to think of anything coherent to say. He'd heard of such magic. It was the kind anyone could do, no matter if they were demon, magical creature, wizard or Muggle. Still, it took a considerable amount of skill and training to perform it successfully, and even then one needed to have a gigantic amount of self-control to keep from becoming addicted to the power Wiccan Magic offered. Everyone Mason knew who'd ever attempted Wiccan Magic had become addicted; he'd heard of people who had overcome their addictions, but they were few and far between.

He wondered what could have possessed his cousin to even think of trying it. Just how much had changed since they'd last seen each other? In 1966, Jexter had been barely twenty-five and still acted like he was fresh from Hogwarts. Jexter had been co-owner of a shop in Diagon Alley and had given the impression that he was happy there. Cheslie probably wasn't perfectly content, though, Mason reflected, thinking of Jexter's wife. She had been the adventurous type and had always pestered Jexter to go traveling with her. She must have gotten her wish if Jexter now owned a shop on a center of mystical convergence.

"Do you even know any Wiccan Magic?" Mason questioned, disbelieving.

"I know enough," Jexter said, shifted uncomfortably. "Not enough to get helplessly addicted. Like I said, I help the Slayers sometimes, and they've got a few Wiccans among them that've taught me a few things." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, there are only certain spells that one would need The Most Gruesome of Dark Magicks for. I performed a Wiccan spell that allowed me to sense when one of those spells was being performed. It worked, and I sensed one of those spells being performed here, in Seattle. So I came here."

"And exactly what spells can be found in The Most Gruesome of Dark Magicks?"

"Oh, nothing much," Jexter said, attempting nonchalance. "Just a few chaos spells, some world-ending rituals, no big deal-"

Mason shot to his feet. "'World-ending rituals?' 'A few chaos spells'? What the fuck are you trying to pull, carrying a book like that in your shop!"

"I didn't want it!" Jexter said, hotly. "It just showed up one day in my shop! I don't know how it even got there!"

Mason laughed. "Oh, that's just bloody nice, isn't it? And you didn't think to destroy it?"

"Well, of course I tried! But I've never been very good at Charms, you know that."

"Fucking-" Mason bit off the curse and ran a hand through his messy hair. Furious, he took a step forward and bent over, sticking an index finger in his cousin's face. Glaring, he warned, "If you end the fucking world, Jexter, I swear to you, I will make sure you aren't able to move on, do you hear me?"

Jexter leaned away from the finger that was close to burying itself in his eye with each thrust. He stared up at his cousin, fear overtaking him for a moment as he remembered just what his cousin was now. The moment passed, and resolve overtook him again.

"The world isn't going to end," Jexter said, resolutely. "I've got a pretty good idea of which ritual he's performing, and I think I may know how to stop him. All I have to do is find the guy." He smiled hopefully up at Mason. "Care to help?"