2

Vic

Vic grunted at the sudden pain and pressed a hand to his heart.

He’d been feeling weird all day, a combination of blue and black that said Adam was deeply upset about something. But now Adam was hurt, maybe physically, and he wasn’t picking up his phone.

Vic dialed his brother.

“Baby bro!” Jesse said. “What’s shaking?”

“Hey, have you heard from Adam?” Vic asked.

“He’s not with you? He didn’t show up for work. I figured you two were all cuddled up.”

“No,” Vic said, feeling himself blush as he walked toward his car. Jesse teased Vic any chance he got, especially about Adam. “Just remember that I didn’t ask you to hire him.”

Jesse hummed agreement. “Yeah, well, Wonder Bread is a wizard with engines.”

And a wizard in other ways, Vic thought, though he didn’t say it aloud. Adam was, for example, a very good kisser. He could also see spirits and astral project into their world. In their brief acquaintance, Adam had completely upended Vic’s reality.

“If I see him,” Vic said, “I’ll tell him to call you.”

“Aight.” Jesse hung up.

Vic started the car and drove south.

He considered himself a patient man. He’d taken getting shot in stride. He’d dealt with the idea that Death herself had picked him to be a Grim Reaper as calmly as possible. Now he was driving across town to check on a boy who wasn’t returning his calls. And damn if Adam Lee Binder didn’t test Vic to the point of cursing out loud and wondering if he should stick to dating girls.

Vic didn’t know what he and Adam were to each other. Boyfriends sounded immature, but Vic didn’t hate the term. There was an intensity between them that Adam said was just the magic that bound them together, but Vic disagreed. It ran deeper than that, at least for him. It was all very come here, go away—which wasn’t how Vic wanted this relationship to go.

Things were just starting to settle down.

He’d just gotten back to work, assigned to desk duty. His captain wasn’t in any rush to see Vic back on the beat after his partner had put a bullet in Vic before killing himself. To make it back to active duty, Vic had to make it over a fence. He could, but wasn’t supposed to be up for that yet, not so soon after being shot, so he faked it and waited.

Thinking about it still made him shudder. His entire life had changed in a day.

He’d learned magic was real. He’d become a Reaper, and he’d been saved by a frustrating boy whose ass he currently wanted to kick.

“Adam,” Vic whispered, reaching for the line inside himself, the magic that connected the two of them.

It had gotten fainter as Vic had gotten better, but sometimes it still thrummed.

Right now it felt cold, not cool or distant, just . . . blue. Adam was sad, heartbroken even.

Something had happened, something bad, and Adam hadn’t told Vic about it.

Vic kept his eyes on the road and tried to call Adam again.

Adam didn’t answer.

Vic drove to Dr. Binder’s house. If something were wrong, Adam’s brother might know what.

The problem was that being a Reaper hadn’t come with a manual or any kind of instructions. Vic couldn’t tell if Adam was just hurting for some normal reason or if something supernatural was up.

Adam didn’t feel scared or hurt, he was just grieving, deeply grieving. Vic knew it well. He’d gone through it with his dad’s cancer.

He’d had his job, something fresh to throw himself into.

Now, work was work, but being back, he’d started noticing things he hadn’t before, little things around the station that made him question if the force was still right for him. Vic couldn’t say if it was the shock of being shot or another side effect of finding out the world wasn’t what he’d thought.

At least this drive gave him something else to focus on.

Vic arrived in Highlands Ranch, a suburb he didn’t spend much time in. He’d been to the house for dinner once and over for a few other things. He liked Adam’s mom, probably more than Adam did.

Adam still held something against her, but Vic hadn’t pried into it yet.

Vic was trying to be careful, to go slow, but he wanted something to shift soon. He wanted some sign that he wasn’t alone in this. Vic hadn’t been dating much before Adam, and they’d all been girls. He could definitively say that no one else had his interest right now. The problem was that Adam thought all of the intensity and intimacy was about the magic. Vic didn’t agree.

Vic would normally feel like showing up unexpected was out of line, but Adam had skipped out on work. Jesse said that “Wonder Bread” was always on time like a good employee, so Vic felt justified in dropping by Dr. Binder’s house. He parked on the street.

Adam’s mother sat on the porch, a cigarette jabbed in her mouth, overseeing her little domain of perfect green lawn and suburban bliss like it didn’t impress her much.

Tilla smiled at Vic as he came up the walk.

She bore all the marks of a hard life, like the constant Oklahoma wind had ground her down, giving her a weathered dammit, I’m still here look.

Tilla’s hair had been dirty blond once, like Adam’s, but it was mostly gray now. Her eyes were brown where Adam’s were a rich blue that reminded Vic of the ocean on a sunny day. At least they did when he was happy. They darkened with anger or sorrow. Vic wondered what color they were right now.

The smoke from Tilla’s cigarette hazed the air. Vic had been more aware of scents and smells since he’d been shot. He wondered if it was the near-death experience or some side effect of becoming a Reaper.

Vic wouldn’t have minded having superpowers. It wasn’t like his new job required him to walk around in a black cloak carrying a scythe. The Reaper part of him was a lot like his connection to Adam: nebulous, down in his blood, like a root he had to dig for. He couldn’t turn it on at will.

“Mrs. Binder,” he greeted.

“Vincent,” she said, dropping her cigarette butt into a coffee can.

It wasn’t his name, but something about Tilla Binder made Vic feel like a nervous teenager, so he didn’t correct her.

“Adam didn’t show up for work,” Vic said, scratching the back of his head. “Have you seen him?”

He’d met plenty of girls’ parents, but this was different. Everything with Adam was different, more real, a little more intense. Vic felt something for Adam he hadn’t before, and he wanted Tilla to like him.

She shook her head.

“He brought the car home to show us the new paint job. He went downstairs for a minute, then he took off, full speed, without a word.”

“Do you know where he went?” Vic asked.

“That boy doesn’t tell me anything,” she said. Her lips pursed. She looked like she wanted another cigarette. “Not that I blame him.”

“Would Doctor Binder know?”

“Robert hasn’t been himself since Annie . . . disappeared.”

Annie Binder had been a casualty of Mercy, the spirit who’d brought Adam to Denver, brought the Binder brothers back together, and almost killed them all. Vic had never met Adam’s sister-in-law, but his older brother, Robert, had not taken the loss well.

“Did he say anything to you?” Tilla asked. “You’re closer to him than us.”

“No,” Vic said. “He just seemed sad.”

Vic wasn’t certain how much Tilla knew about Adam’s magic. More than she let on, he suspected, but for now he’d play it cool. He certainly wouldn’t mention the bond between them, the way they could feel each other’s emotions, and occasionally hear each other’s thoughts.

“Is there anyone closer?” he asked. “To Adam, I mean.”

“Sue, his great-aunt on his father’s side. Adam lived with her in Guthrie,” Tilla said, a little acid slipping into her drawl.

Vic felt it as soon as Tilla spoke. It was like a hammer against his sternum. Adam’s grief had a name.

“Did something happen to her?” Vic asked. “To Sue?”

“I wouldn’t know. The woman hates me.” Tilla looked away.

There was something there, some bit of the complicated family history that had damaged Adam’s ability to trust anyone. Now wasn’t the time to pry, no matter how much Vic wanted to know, or how much he wanted to hold Adam and squeeze all those broken pieces back together, which was almost as much as Vic wanted to shake Adam and get him to talk.

“Do you have her number?” Vic asked.

“I do,” Tilla said, holding out a weathered hand for Vic to hand over his phone.

He did and she dialed from memory, handing it back as it rang.

Vic put his phone on speaker and set it on the porch rail.

It rang until voicemail picked up.

“You’ve reached Noreen and Jodi,” a voice sawed out.

Vic opened his mouth to leave a message, but Tilla reached over and hung up the call.

“Something’s wrong,” she said. “That was the line to Sue’s trailer.”

“Who’s Noreen?” Vic asked.

“Adam’s cousin. Sue’s daughter,” Tilla said. She scoffed so hard Vic thought she might spit. “She’s a real piece of shit.”

Tilla drew out the word until it sounded like sheet.

“Sue didn’t want us anywhere near that side of the family,” a voice said.

“Doctor Binder,” Vic said, greeting the man with a nod.

Adam’s brother had aged ten years since Vic had last seen him. He’d had the life sucked out of him by Mercy, which had left him unconscious for a good while. His brown hair had grayed at the temples. He needed a shave, and probably a shower. His flannel bathrobe could use a washing. A thick miasma of something hung around him. It was more than grief, a caginess—the kind of thing that Vic would question in a suspect.

“You can call me Robert,” he said, offering his hand. “Or Bobby, I guess.”

Vic shook it. Yeah, Robert needed a shower.

Bobby got out his phone and began typing two-handed.

“Damn,” he said, lifting the screen for their inspection. “There’s an obit in today’s News Leader. Sue’s dead.”

Tilla looked stricken. Her face paled but hardened at the same time. She swallowed and said, “Noreen changed the voicemail at her place before she was even cold.”

“The funeral’s in three days,” Robert said. “I’ll go pack. You too, Ma.”

“She hated me,” Tilla said, shaking her head. “She wouldn’t want me there.”

“We’re not going for her,” Robert said firmly. “We’re going for Adam.”

He looked to Vic, his expression questioning, expectant.

No, Vic thought.

That was too much time in the car with Adam’s family, even if Bobby cleaned up. Vic could just imagine the horror of being locked in a car with them without Adam there as a buffer.

“I’ll meet you there,” Vic said.