Recalled (Death Escorts #1)(63)
Author: Cambria Hebert

The door to the hospital room opened, but instead of seeing out into the hallway like I should have, all I saw was white. The man who called himself the Grim Reaper motioned for me to go ahead and so I did, very slowly. When I walked past him, I made an effort to stay as far away from his hands as possible. My muscles tensed when I stepped into the white of the doorway, but I felt no pain. I felt nothing really, and then I was stepping completely through and into a whole other place.

* * *

It was an office—a rather large one with the usual furnishings and an entire row of closets. I didn’t really take the time to notice my complete surroundings because the man sitting in the room was the same man that tried to kill me the night before.

I gasped, stepping back slightly, the bruises on my neck throbbing.

“Watch it there. You don’t want to accidently bump into me and die,” The Grim Reaper said jovially. If I hadn’t known he was serious, I would’ve thought he was joking.

I jumped forward like a scared cat and landed on a thick sand-colored rug.

The man in the chair laughed. “I knew we would meet again,” he said.

“Your face is bleeding,” I said with satisfaction. Clearly, whatever made him bleed wasn’t a threat to his life, but I still liked to see him suffer a little.

That seemed to wipe the smug look off his face and he glanced away from me toward the Grim Reaper. I could only assume he was employed by this man to kill. He probably did the same job they wanted Dex to do.

“What happened to your face? And where is Dex?” The Grim Reaper demanded.

“Turns out he didn’t want to hang around and wait for you to come back,” the guy answered. He was sprawled in his chair, but his eyes weren’t as relaxed as his body appeared.

“You let him leave?” There was disapproval in his tone.

“I didn’t have much say in the matter.”

“Don’t give me that,” The Reaper retorted. “You and I both know you have advantages over him. You’ve been quite greedy with the powers you have collected over the years. In fact, isn’t that why you are invested here, now, in this girl?” He motioned toward me.

“Me?” I said. “What could I possibly have that you want?”

“Nothing,” he said, looking at the floor.

“Don’t I have a right to know why I’m going to die?”

“Why, yes, you do,” The Grim Reaper said, causing me to look at him. “You have the gift of vision. It’s a gift that could be of use to my Escort.”

So I was right. The guy who tried to kill me—the guy bleeding, presumably at the hands of Dex—was an Escort for the Grim Reaper. A killer.

“You want to kill me so you can take my ability to have visions? What could you possibly need it for?”

“All my Escorts have particular talents, something that makes them very good at what they do. Charming here has certain specialties in his field.”

“How can you have a specialty in death?” I scoffed.

The Grim Reaper threw back his head and laughed. “At last, Charming, someone who seems to be blind to your skills.” Then he shook his head. “Such a shame she must die.”

I swallowed and glanced around for something I could use as a weapon. I was thinking if I came here I would see Dex and we could fight out of this together.

But he wasn’t here.

My stomach was in knots trying to decide what that meant. I had a very bad feeling it meant he really didn’t care I was going to die. Maybe everything he said at the hospital had all been part of his plan to get me here… to get me closer to death. I almost preferred death by the Grim Reaper. At least he didn’t play with his prey before he disposed of it.

I forced myself back into the conversation, wanting to buy myself some time. “So what is this special skill you have?” I looked at the man in the chair.

“His name says it all,” The Reaper said as he made his way over to a little cart with glasses and a decanter of dark liquid. As he poured himself a drink, I turned toward the man called Charming.

“That’s your name? Charming? You’re kidding.”

“That’s me. Charming. So good with the ladies they changed my name.” He got up from the chair and rose to his full height. He was good-looking… even with all the blood on his face. I watched as he found a tissue to wipe away some of the blood.

“Charming is the best Escort I have at getting lonely heiresses to fall madly in love with him, signing over their riches, and then killing them so the company can seize all their assets.”

I looked at Charming. “You seduce women and then kill them for their money?”

“Not just women,” Grim said snidely.

Charming made a face like his stomach hurt. But then the sour look smoothed away and he said, “Relax, princess. It’s only the really rich, and they usually have more than just money that we want.”

That knot in my stomach grew. This was disgusting. These people were horrible and I was sorry to even know there were people out there like this.

“I don’t understand how having visions could make you any better at what you do.”

“When I mentioned earlier that you were the only one that was resistant to his, ah… charms, that wasn’t exactly accurate,” Grim said, taking a seat on the couch. “It seems Charming here might be losing his touch. He isn’t as charming as he once was.”

“Yes,” Charming growled. “I am.”

Grim made a tsking sound. “You have two failed jobs this year. You used to have none.”

“They weren’t failed, because I killed them,” Charming said, making another sour face.

“True, true,” Grim offered. “If you hadn’t managed to kill them, I would have recalled you on the spot. But still, we didn’t collect the money we should have.”

Charming didn’t say anything and the Grim Reaper kept talking.

“So, we thought giving him the ability to have visions,” Grim began, “might help us know if his certain charms would work before he put in the time and effort.”

They wanted to use my visions to pick and choose people to rob and kill. They wanted to kill me to make it easier to kill even more people. I felt tears sting the backs of my eyes, but I pushed them back. I wasn’t going to show weakness in front of these two men who talked about life and death as if it were something as trivial as which shoes to wear. How could anyone have so little value for life?