Recalled (Death Escorts #1)
Author: Cambria Hebert

Chapter One

“Dying – ceasing to live; approaching death; expiring: a dying man.”

Dex

I’m going to hell. I’ve known this since I was ten years old. The year I murdered someone. Knowing my fate made it a lot easier to determine how I was going to live my life and what kind of person I was going to be. Since I wasn’t going to heaven, why bother living like it?

And so, my destiny was sealed long before most even think about it. I never worry about it because I don’t really care. I figure since I’m already living like I belong there, it won’t be much of an adjustment. I actually look forward to one aspect of hell: the heat. After almost eighteen years of living in the blistering cold, I’m still not used to it. I still don’t like it. Honestly, I don’t like much of anything.

Sliding into the shadows of a narrow alley, I positioned myself so I could look for the lucky person who’d help me get warm. After a few people passed—without realizing I was watching, debating what kind of mark they would be—I settled on my victim. I had yet to see her, but I knew without a doubt it was a her. The sound of high-heeled boots cracked down the pavement with an intonation I recognized well: exhaustion. With every slap of her boots, another lighter noise caught my attention—coins hitting together as she walked.

I sank back, keeping an ear on the approaching footsteps. It wouldn’t be long before I would be warming myself with a hot cup of coffee and a slice of homemade pie. I smiled at the irony that the very place I planned to go was the very place she just left. It was almost too easy. Usually, I liked a challenge, the thrill of outsmarting an impossible target. I liked stealing from people who were too stupid to know what happened right under their noses.

Not tonight.

Tonight the cold seemed colder and my stomach emptier. As she drew near, I straightened, pulled my cap lower on my head, and walked right out onto the sidewalk. I didn’t look at her; I pretended she wasn’t even there.

She wasn’t as smooth.

I felt her stare and I knew her eyes probably widened at my unexpected appearance. Her steps faltered, just barely. In fact, if I weren’t paying attention to the clap of her feet, I wouldn’t have noticed.

But I did.

I looked up, right at her. Her startled, wary expression was exactly as I expected. So I did the unexpected.

I smiled.

This time her steps noticeably faltered before they quickened. Unfortunately for her, the sidewalks were icy and she slipped. Fortunately for me, I was right there to catch her, sliding my free hand down into the front pocket of her apron.

“Easy there,” I told her as my hand closed around a stack of bills. “It’s a long way down.”

Her eyes stretched wide as I steadied her on the pavement and stepped back, stuffing my hands into my jacket. I could taste the coffee already. She continued to stare without saying anything. It was weird, and I got what I wanted, so I walked away.

“Hey!”

I froze, pivoting slightly on my heel. She couldn’t possibly know I just picked her pocket. It was over in less than five seconds. Not responding would only confirm her suspicions, if she had any, so I raised my eyebrows in silent inquiry.

“Thank you.”

Thank you? When she got home later and realized all her tips from the night were gone, she would regret those words. Although, I did teach her a very important lesson so maybe the thanks were deserved. Maybe this would teach her not to go walking around alone in a dark, not-so-great neighborhood.

“Yeah.” I answered, because she was doing that staring thing again and I just wanted to get rid of her.

Thankfully, she seemed to pick up on the fact I didn’t want to chat and she turned, walking to stand just below the bus sign. The bus rounded the corner and barreled toward the stop.

I opened the door to the little diner, welcomed by a blast of heat. The aroma of baking pie beckoned me. Then, for some unknown reason, I looked back.

Everything slowed.

The bus driver recognized he was going too fast and slammed on the brakes. The heavy bus fishtailed on the sheet of black ice and slid forward, coming up over the curb, pulverizing a bench and sliding right at the waitress.

No!

I shoved her out of the way of sure and certain death. She landed roughly on her side a few feet away.

Our eyes met.

I paused instantly to wonder what the hell I was thinking. Just as quickly, the bus plowed into me, stealing my breath and crunching my bones. I landed in the middle of the street, a crumpled mess. Everything was silent when I finally opened my eyes. She was there, leaning over me, tears on her face. I always knew I would go to hell.

I just never knew it would be so soon.

Chapter Two

“Alive – possessing life. In existence; active.”

Piper

He seemed to come out of nowhere, appearing out of the shadows in front of me. It was his sudden presence that made me pause, caught me off guard. He wore a black toboggan pulled low over his head, a black quilted coat, and scuffed-up jeans.

I kept walking, knowing he was probably just heading into the diner for a late-night meal. He had the look of someone who couldn’t quite get warm and needed something to fill him up. Working in this part of town gave me a lot of experience in recognizing hungry, cold people. I hoped Julia would take pity on him and let him order before they closed up the kitchen.

Even though I knew he probably wasn’t anyone to be afraid of, I couldn’t look away as I walked. There was something about him that held my stare.

And then he smiled.

It was the kind of ornery smile that told me he probably wasn’t as innocent as I thought. Distracted by his unexpected behavior, I slipped, my heels sliding right over a patch of ice. I braced myself against the hard sidewalk, but never hit it.

The stranger caught me around the waist, his touch triggering things inside me I hadn’t experienced in a while. It was quick, almost fleeting, yet carried the impact of a blizzard.

And then he spoke.

“Easy there.” He smiled again and I was dazzled. “It’s a long way down.”

His voice was gruff and it matched his exterior so well. It made me wonder about his interior—what was behind that smile.

And then his hands were gone, stuffed into his coat. My feet were steady on the ground, but everything inside me wobbled. I stood there, trying to shake away the image in my head and the side effects of his smile.

He walked away, toward the diner, when I heard myself call out. “Hey!”

It took a few long seconds, but he turned and I actually felt grateful it was so cold and windy. He wouldn’t be able to tell that the pink in my cheeks was from my embarrassment, not the weather. When he lifted his eyebrows, I realized I needed to say something else.