Deadly Kisses - By Kerri Cuevas Page 0,4

. . nine.” She said in one breath and half ran toward the old cemetery. “Ten!”

I stood still, the silent observer in the lush pines.

It was quiet except for the occasional chuckle of the twin girls. The geese honked from a distance and wind rustled the dried leaves. Bee pretended not to know where the girls were hiding.

She jumped behind the rock, but they had run to another spot a minute before she arrived. Bee yelled. “Boo! They tricked me. Hmm, where can they be? Maybe Faith and Hope are hiding behind a tree.”

A short squeaky giggle erupted from one of the twins and she yelped, “Ouch!”

Bee took a deep breath and walked toward the rusted gate that opened into the cemetery. She entered into Grim Reaper territory.

“Find me, Bee,” the child squeaked, and her voice carried on the wind from behind the old maple that stood grand and thick in the middle of the scattered gravestones. Some would think it odd to have an old cemetery in your backyard, but in small town New Hampshire, it was considered part of the décor.

“Here I come. Where are Hope and Faith?” Bee’s almost kid-like voice bubbled out.

I blew out a long breath and shook my head. I didn’t want to end her life, but I looked around, seeing what I could use to create her death. I was much better with close contact and with creating a medical death rather than using nature. I looked up to see if there were loose branches, but she ran away from the tree and toward a clustered plot of gravestones.

The two girls giggled and jumped out at her with open arms. They fell onto the moist ground laughing. One of them pulled off her hat, and the other threw leaves into Bee’s hair.

“You’re good at this game, girls.” She sat up, shaking her head, but the leaves remained.

“Bee looks like scary crow, Hope. Look at all the leaves in her hair.” Faith pointed, laughing.

“You mean scare crow.” Bee messed Faith’s hair with her hand. It was smooth, thick, and ran down to her shoulders. The child picked out the dried leaves from her hair releasing them, and they swayed to the ground.

“I wanna snack now. Can we go home?” Hope cradled Bee’s face with her pudgy hands. Her little lips kissed the tip of Bee’s red nose.

The leaves rustled, and Bee leaned forward toward the Kessler family crypt and froze. A red squirrel stopped with its face fat with nuts. It twitched its nose and ran away. “Your mom should be back now,” Bee said, “How about when we get home, I make you hot apple cider. I’ll add extra cinnamon.”

“Cither. Yea!” One of the twins clapped her hands together and skipped around the stones. I watched mesmerized by her hair as it whipped in the wind.

“Cither, cither!” The twins chanted.

“Ci-der,” Bee corrected. They walked behind her, jumping on leaves that fell to the dry ground.

The cemetery gate squeaked as Bee closed it. I noticed a loose branch in the tree ahead. My scythe warmed up in my hand. I should get this over with fast because the longer I hung around, the harder it would be to take her life and soul.

I aimed the scythe’s energy to loosen the branch. I swallowed hard. Sometimes I hated my job.

The branch dislodged from the nook it was stuck in. I raised my scythe, getting ready to make it fall.

“Girls. Quick! Look at the salamander.” She ran to it, crouched down, and cupped the thing in her hands.

My scythe cooled and the branch remained in the tree. A close contact medical reap it would have to be then. I blew out a long breath. I moved closer to them, staying hidden in the pine trees. Another Grim Reaper should have this assignment. I shook away past thoughts, and lowered my hood.

I saw Bee cuddle some kind of lizard in her hands. A soft light sparked off her and animated the stiff creature. It wiggled across her hand.

I tucked my hands in the long sleeves of my cloak as the cold blew through my bones. I could never warm up unless I collected a soul. The warmth would fade after the delivery, which sent me back into an artic freeze.

“You want to find it a home? It’s getting too cold for salamanders to be above ground,” Bee said.

Faith pointed to a moss-covered log. “Bee, put it here, but I don’t wanna touch it. I don’t like slimy