Deadly Kisses - By Kerri Cuevas Page 0,3

to that normalcy as I had with my guitar when I was alive.

I would go collect the girl’s soul. I didn’t want any other Grim Reaper near her. I would do my job.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I felt him trying to comfort me, but I pushed it away.

“Yes . . . no . . . maybe, oh I don’t know. You have my clean stuff?”

He put a pile of cloaks in a heap over the dark water spot and took my used ones. “Did I mention that I’m not a woman who does your laundry? Do your own,” Abe said. “I’ll train you myself if you go through with this assignment.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “No Grim Reaper Academy?”

“You’re a natural, kid, but you need more training than they offer. It’s imperative that you learn the histories. You need to know about the lesser creatures.”

“Let’s do the speech another time. I need to find a way to take care of this assignment, kay?”

Abe’s eyes wandered as he stroked his beard. “I don’t understand why you give me the letter ‘k.’ Am I missing something? Or is this like how you call yourself, Ad, now instead of your given name?”

I growled in frustration. “Sheesh. You old dudes are worse than a granny. Okay. Kay. You get it?”

Abe was quiet, deep in thought, then burst out with rolling laughter. “I get it. The English language has become foreign since I died.”

He tipped his hat and left, leaving me alone in the black with only the moans from the River of Lost Souls to keep me company. My heart was a leaden thing that had sunk in my chest. I took a deep breath and moved my gondola away from the shore. I headed north to face my fate, knowing in the pit of my non-existent stomach that Bee was the one who would leave me a Grim Reaper for eternity.

Two

I stood against the stone wall of Bee’s house and waited for an opportunity. I had to make the death look natural and not a random act of violence.

Being born in Acstead gave me an advantage. I knew where all the cemeteries were for this assignment. I was careful to enter through the one in the center of town instead of the one behind her house. Even though no one could see me, I still felt visible to the mortal world.

My scythe was on the ground. I checked my phone again, mostly out of habit. Not like my voicemail was overflowing with messages. The only two who called were Abe and his other Reaperling, Reina. God, I could manage without hearing her annoying voice. I looked up, calculating my next move.

The edge of the grassed yard looked into the woods to a forgotten cemetery. Laughter echoed off the old head stones and vibrated my bones. I put my phone in the pocket of my cloak and moved closer to watch Bee. Just thinking about her name made me want to be with her again.

I swallowed down a lump of guilt as I walked past the flower garden I helped Bee to plant. The flowers were brown now, and it reminded me how fragile life was.

Bee was prettier than I remembered. She was short, and her curves reminded me of my Fender acoustic, perfectly crafted. The jeans were nice, but the flowery pink sweater and wool gray hat looked to be borrowed from her mom. Straight black hair stood out against her white skin. I remembered how I used to twirl it around my fingers. My heart beat hard and my hand shook. I had to go through with this.

Bee leaned into the oak tree that stood outside of the cemetery. “One . . . two . . . three.” She screamed and small giggles erupted from behind a large boulder.

I stumbled back as twin girls with Bee’s jet black hair ran by, tugging on each other. Their purple jackets contrasted with the vibrant yellows and reds of the leaves. There was no mistaking the Flynt family. They all had the same straight black hair. Well, everyone except Bee’s mother. The twin girls were Bee’s cousins, Sabrina’s sisters—the sisters Sabrina barely knew.

“Four . . . five . . . six.” Bee peeked over her arm to see what direction the twins ran. The rusted gate from the cemetery squeaked and she snapped her head in their direction, sheer panic on her face that the girls had entered the cemetery.

“Seven . . . eight .