Styx & Stoned (The Grim Reality Series Book 2) (5 page)

I waved my hand in front of the
paper towel dispenser, my attention riveted on the spot. When the paper towels
spit out, the spirit appeared again, translucent but clearly defined. The woman
appeared to be around sixty, with salt-and-pepper hair, a kind face, and
wearing a black smock and pants.

Slowly, I turned, not wanting to
spook her—no pun intended. She seemed slightly confused, her gaze circling the
bathroom as if trying to get her bearing. Finally, her eyes leveled on me.
“Where am I?”

“The Sands Expo and Convention
Center, fifth floor, end bathroom.” I like to keep my explanations short and to
the point. A lot of times a spirit can’t handle too much info at once. I dried
my hands and tossed the wadded towel in the trash. “What’s your name?”

“Estelle Banner.” She shook her
head. “But I’m dead.”

My eyes widened, surprised she
realized this. Good, dealing with her might be easier than I’d anticipated.
Still, I had to wonder who had fallen down on the job and not reaped her.
“That’s right.”

“Then why am I back in this
bathroom?” Her voice rasped out, as if she’d been a chain smoker. “One minute I
was waiting in line to board the ferry and the next thing I knew,
poof
,
here I am.”

“Wait.” I leaned my butt against
the sink and braced my hands on the counter. “You’d already been reaped?”

“Yeah, by a sweet little Mexican
gal named Anita.”

“Do you happen to know how long ago
that was?” If Estelle had gone through the reaping process, how the hell did
she get back here? Only one answer came to mind and I didn’t like it. “When did
you pass?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea, but
it felt like I’d been waiting in that line for an eternity. When I first got to
the river there was a small crowd. Then people just kept coming, and that ferry
didn’t move. We were squeezed together tighter than a virgin’s thighs, standing
room only.”

“Oh, crap.” Tabris had said that
when the banks of the river got too full the spirits would flow onto the
physical plane. It looked like that was starting sooner than he expected.
“Well, nothing to worry about. I’ll get this sorted out.” I attempted a
confident smile I didn’t feel. “But it may take a little time.”

“No problem.” She sauntered—well,
more like drifted with a sashay—to the mirror, assessing her reflection. “I
like it here. Nice and quiet.”

“Is this where you died?” A
bathroom was a weird place to haunt. I figured there had to be a reason. “Is
that why you returned?”

“Naw.” She picked at her
perpetually ratted hairdo. “I used to work here, housekeeping. This is where
I’d come on my breaks to have a smoke.” She turned to look at me and leaned her
hip on the counter. “Nobody ever used this bathroom except for the employees.
Kind of our secret sanctuary.”

“That’s nice, I guess.” People had
to find their happy places where they could. However, discovering Estelle here
did not make me happy. After class I’d go see Tabris, or maybe I’d pawn the job
off on Nate. He loved brown-nosing the superiors. “I need to take care of a few
things, but I’ll check on you later with an update on your situation.”

“Don’t worry about me.” She pulled
a pack of spectral smokes out of her pocket. “I’ll be here, enjoying my
cigarettes and the quiet. Just like old times.”

“Great, see you soon.”

She gave a nonchalant wave. Even
though I’d quit smoking a while ago, the smell of cigarettes still tempted
me—even if it was from a ghost. That revelation came from the spirit of an old
lady, who had haunted the McDonald’s Playland near my house. Avoiding all
contact with temptation was best. I already had too many bad
habits—Alcohol—Carbs—Kitten videos. No need adding one I’d already kicked.

As I exited the bathroom I nearly
collided with Mara. “Hey, what are you doing up here?”

“Probably the same thing as you.”
She grimaced. “To get a lecture on following the rules.”

“Right, I forgot you’re new to GRS,
too.” Yet another thing we had in common.

“Yeah, let’s say that’s why I’ve
been ordered here.” She inhaled, as if readying herself for battle. “I’d rather
sit through one of Cam’s lectures on tolerance.”

“I debated not coming, but didn’t
want to listen to Nate lecture me.” I heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Shall we
do this?”

She nodded.

The classroom was located at the
end of the hall. Only five rows of chairs had been assembled and three in the
front row had already been claimed by two women and a man.

“I feel like we’re going to after
school detention.” When we entered, they turned and stared at us like three
wary owls. I ignored them and edged into the back row. “How’s this?”

“Fine.” Mara scowled at the other
students. “I’d hoped there would be more people so we could sneak out after it
started.”

“I like the way you think.”
Dropping my purse on the floor, I lowered to the metal folding chair. “Not with
this crowd, though.”

After giving us the once-over, the
three attendees turned their attention back to their laptops, and the array of
binders and colored pens spread across their legs and neighboring chairs.

Leaning toward Mara, I whispered,
“I feel like a slacker. Maybe I should have brought a highlighter set or
something.”

A snort of laughter shot from her,
but she quickly sobered and straightened. I followed her gaze. A man sidled
toward us, his shoulders and hips rolling in opposite directions as he ambled.
I think it was his attempt at a macho cowboy walk, which ended up looking like
he suffered from a bad rash in his nether region. Instantly, my skeeve alert
erupted.

“Ladies.” He stopped at the end of
our row, leering at us. “The name is Jimmy.” His mustache wriggled under his
nose, looking like a giant caterpillar when he smiled. “And lucky for you—” He
grabbed the folding chair in front of me and flipped it around, hiking his
booted foot onto the metal seat, which positioned his junk at eye-level. “—I’ll
be your instructor today.”

Before I could stop myself, my gaze
zeroed in on his crotch. Sweet Jesus, that couldn’t be all Jimmy. Realizing I
was staring, I jerked my head toward Mara, giving her a wide-eyed stare.

She, however, didn’t appear to be
as mortified as me. Her stare hovered on his privates, the corners of her mouth
twitching in a smile. I don’t think it was in appreciation as much as amusement.
After an uncomfortable length of time—and I mean uncomfortable for me because
both Jimmy and Mara seemed unfazed—her eyes cut to his face. “Wow, our
instructor, lucky us.”

“I know, right?” he said. “Been
with GRS for twenty years. Ten in the field, ten teaching this class.” He
winked at us. “Don’t be intimidated, though.” His attempt at being suave came
off sounding like bad porn dialogue. “I’ll be gentle with you.”

“Ten years—that’s a long time.” A
soft pout formed on Mara’s full, red lips. “What happened? Injured in the line
of duty? Is that why you’re teaching?”

“Oh, I’ve been hurt plenty of
times, nearly died twice.” He settled his arm across his bent leg. “But that’s
not why I teach.”

“Did you get in trouble for
breaking the rules?” I interjected. “And now you’re forced to teach this class?
Is being stuck on the fifth floor, way back here—away from all the fun—part of
your punishment?”

“I teach,” he blurted before
regaining his cool, “because it’s my calling.” He focused on Mara, his mouth
curving into a smarmy grin. “Shaping fresh minds…” His gaze descended to her
boobs and back up. “…and bodies for GRS is an honor, and I’m good at it.”

“Well, I can’t wait to get
started,” Mara said. “When will that be, exactly?”

“I like to see an eager pupil.” He
held out two sheets of paper and shook his head, flipping his yellow-blond hair
off his forehead. “You lovely ladies will need my class handout.”

We each accepted a paper and I
dearly hoped this would put an end to his flirtatious shenanigans. No such luck.
I attempted a Jedi mind trick.
These are not the girls you want to flirt
with.
But when he continued to linger—and ogle—I realized I still didn’t
possess that awesome power.

“Well, thanks for this.” Mara waved
the paper. “Can’t wait to soak up all your knowledge.”

“A lot of people say that,” he
said, nodding. I think the smile he flashed was meant to be sexy, but it made
him look like he was trying to fart. “I’ll be around after class if you have
any questions.” Neither of us replied. For my part it was because I’d thrown up
in my mouth a bit. “Or I’ll be around tonight.” He winked at Mara. “I put my
personal info on the front of the handout.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mara
said.

“I bet you will.” He winked again,
and I had the overwhelming desire to poke his offending eye out and throw it
against the wall. “All right…” He straightened and strode to the front of the
room. “Rules. What are they and who needs to follow them?”

Mara leaned toward me, keeping her
voice low. “I see why they stuck this class back here.”

“Seriously.” I cringed. “What the
hell was that?”

“I’m not sure, but I think we just
got Jimmied.”

“Well, he needs to keep his Jimmy
to himself,” I whispered.

“I wonder if he calls his junk “little
Jimmy.”” Mara’s eyes narrowed. “Baby, Jimmy wants to show you some love.”

I pinched my lips together,
repressing a laugh, and then said, “When I’m alone I touch my Jimmy.”

“Besides a noun, I think Jimmy can
be both a verb or adjective.” Mara held up her finger, as if giving a lecture.
“For example: he Jimmied his new sports car. Or, why don’t you go Jimmy
yourself?”

“If he Jimmies me one more time I’m
going to flip out.” My mind reeled with possibilities. “He really Jimmied up
that test.”

Before Mara could add to our
collection, the instructor interrupted, cutting off our Jimmyisms. “Do you
ladies have a question or a comment?”

We straightened.

“Busted,” I whispered.

“Sorry, no—” Mara paused. “Jimmy.”

I manage a solid two seconds before
I burst out laughing. “Sorry.” I made the universal sign for locking my lips
and throwing away the key. “Please…continue.”

Jimmy’s vibe switched from suave to
suspicious. Under his constant watch, there was no chance to slip out. During
the next two excruciating hours, Jimmy not only explained more than a hundred
rules, but also shared his personal experiences. Each incident had been life or
death, and he’d always come out a hero. By the end of the lecture I’d concluded
that the class was some kind of cruel initiation newbies were subjected to.

If necessity is the mother of
invention, then endless boredom is the mother of revenge plots. The two-hour
loss of my life, listening to Jimmy relive his glory days, was Nate’s fault,
and I blamed him fully. He’d played me, knowing I’d come to the class even
though I didn’t want to. Revenge was a dish best served cold, preferably while
eating chips and salsa, and drinking a big-ass margarita. Cheers, Nate.

At eleven o’clock Jimmy finally
released us. To be honest, I hadn’t learned anything new. The bottom line was,
don’t
break the rules,
or else I might start a chain reaction of biblical
proportions. Got it. If it meant not ever having to attend Jimmy’s class again,
I’d never step out of line—well, I’d try really hard not to.

“The thought of sitting through
another class makes me want to light somebody’s hair on fire.” A determined
expression set squarely on Mara’s face. “What do you say to a little gambling
and a Bloody Mary?”

“Yes, please!” Pressing my hands
together in a prayer position, I gave her my best puppy eyes. “But can we stick
to the penny slots? It’s all I can afford to lose.”

“Who said anything about losing?”
She patted my hands. “First penny slots, then maybe I’ll tempt you with
something a little more dangerous.”

“I’m a chicken when it comes to
money.” I lowered my hand. “Especially when I don’t have it.”

“All right,” she said, continuing
down the corridor.

Her “all right” sounded anything
but compliant to my wants. The one thing I couldn’t forget about Mara, no
matter how much I liked her, was her demon status. If I were smart, I wouldn’t
trust her with the smallest things. Then again, rarely did I heed my own
advice.

It took a few minutes of wandering
around, feeling the vibes of the machines, before we settled on two slots.
Unicorns flashed on mine, and ladybugs and butterflies danced across Mara’s.

“Drinks?”

I started and turned to see the
casino waitress smiling behind me. Usually I burned through several dollars
before catching the attention of a waitress. “Bloody Mary for me, please.”

“Make that two,” Mara added.

The waitress jotted down our order,
smiled again, and said, “I’ll be right back.”

I plopped onto my seat and shoved a
five-dollar bill into the lit up slot. “Come to mama.”

Mara fed in a dollar, hit the max
bet, and won a thousand pennies. She smiled. “I like this machine.”

“Yeah.” Beginners luck, probably. I
pushed my button and lost twenty-five cents. Undaunted, I slapped the max bet
button again and lost another quarter. “Damn it.” For a second time,
butterflies and ladybugs danced across Mara’s machine, music blaring. Then came
the endless ding of coins being deposited to her credits. I swallowed my
jealousy, but my voice involuntarily raised an octave when I said, “That’s
fantastic.”

“I’ve never played penny slots
before,” she said, smiling at the dancing bugs. “It’s fun.”

“Tons of fun.” I hit the spin
button and lost. I glanced around. “Where’s that waitress?”

Mara smiled at me. “Any luck?”

“No.” I lowered my bet to fifteen
cents and spun, this time winning back six. Instantly my mood lifted. “This is
how they get you—take, take, win, and then lose twice as much.”

“Have you ever played the dollar
slots?”

A snort of laughter huffed from me.
“No way.”

The waitress arrived in record time
and delivered two gigantic Bloody Mary’s, a bevy of vegetables and olives
shoved into the glass. After accepting the drinks we each laid a dollar on her
tray. “Good luck, ladies.”

“I’ve been wanting one of these
since I got here.” I took a long sip. The chilled, spicy juice flowed over my
tongue and down my throat. “That is so good.”

Mara drank, her eyes growing wide,
and then nodded. “That should wash away the bad taste Jimmy left.”

Holding my drink, I pressed my max
bet again. No win.

“So…” The bells on Mara’s machine
dinged. She waited until the credits finished adding and continued. “Tell me
about yourself. Are you married?”

“Widowed.” I watched the center
unicorns line up and stretch into a single unicorn, sparkly lights dancing
around the row. “I won.” Happiness blossomed inside me as two hundred credits beeped
onto my machine. “I officially love this game again.” I looked at Mara. “What
was I saying?”

“You’re widowed?”

“Oh, right.” I refocused on the
unicorn and pressed the button again. “Jeff died about a year and a half ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” Mara took a tiny
sip, and then asked, “You didn’t have to…reap him, did you?”

“God, no.” Since I’d just lost half
my winnings within ten seconds of getting them, I swiveled in my chair. “I
became a reaper after Jeff died—actually
because
Jeff died.”

Mara’s hand rested on the spin
button but she didn’t push it. “How so?”

“I was the next one on the list.
When he died, I popped onto GRS’s radar.” That memory still made my stomach
knot. “And get this.” I pulled two speared olives out of the glass. “I had no
idea Jeff had been a reaper.” Using my teeth, I slid the green ovals off and
chewed. “There are still a lot of unanswered questions about things, but I’ve
been trying to focus on the kids and getting us back on our feet.”

“No idea?” She mirrored my action,
tapping the sword on the side of the glass. “That must have been a shock.”

“A little bit,” I said around the
food, and then swallowed. “My introduction to grim reapers consisted of Nate
locking me in a minimart bathroom with him and one really pissed off ghost, and
then calling his porter.” I shuddered. “He’s super creepy.”

“That’s crazy.” Even though Mara
attempted empathy, she couldn’t contain her laughter. “Sorry, it’s not funny,
but—it is.”

“The sad part is that it’s so
typical of my life.”

“Well, you passed all of GRS’s
tests, so that proves you’ve got the makings of a grim reaper.” She cleared her
throat. “I know Nate reaps violent criminals. Who do you reap?”

I stared at her for a few seconds
before turning back to my machine and slamming the max bet button. “I don’t
want to talk about it.”

“Why not?” My response sparked
Mara’s interest even more, and when I didn’t answer, she verbally prodded me.
“Come on, tell me. I promise I won’t laugh.”

“Yes you will.” I hit spin and
lost.

“No I won’t. Come on, Lisa, tell
me.”

She wouldn’t give up. I knew this.
Accepting defeat, I swiveled back to her. “Stupid people.”

Her brow furrowed and she shook her
head. “What?”

“I reap people who have died in
stupid ways.” I’ll give her credit, Mara didn’t laugh—right away—but the corners
of her mouth twitched.

“Give me an example of somebody
you’d reap.”

“Gator wrestlers. Idiots who jump
over bomb fires. One time I reaped a guy who rode across thin ice on a
snowmobile while wearing a pumpkin on his head. There’s no end to the variety
of reaps I might be subjected to.” I stared at her for a few seconds and then
said, “Now you can laugh.”

“I’m not going to laugh.” Though
she wasn’t able to contain all of her amusement, and let only a small chuckle
escape, her reaction wasn’t completely humiliating. “Okay, maybe a little,
sorry. But that’s really Jimmied.”

“Jimmied to the max.” I shrugged
and pushed my spin button with a lot less vigor. “I’m used to it.”

“Listen,” she said, “the type of
clients you reap has no bearing on the caliber of reaper you are.” She tapped a
red fingernail on the metal ledge her drink rested on. “For being so new at
this, you’ve already gotten Tabris’s attention. That’s saying something.”

I looked at her. “Only because Hal
is my porter.”

“I know.” She held out her hands in
question. “And what’s up with that? Why do you have a minor deity as your
porter?”

“Because, Mara, it’s part of the
cosmic joke that is my life.”

“I don’t think so.” She waved her
finger at me. “You’re special. They know it.” She pointed toward the ceiling,
but I figured she meant higher up than the Venetian management. “Nate knows it,
and...” She pointed at me again. “Hal knows it.”

“Well, I wish somebody would tell
me.” I hit the spin button, effectively draining my credits to zero. “I could
use a little specialness about now.”

“Come on.” Mara cashed out, snagged
her credit ticket from the machine. “Let’s go over here.”

“Where?” I stood and took another
drink.

“Do you trust me?”

No, but I wasn’t about to tell a
demon that. “Of course.”

She glanced over her shoulder and
smirked, as if she knew I was lying. Facing forward again, she wove her way
through the machines, across the casino, and then stopped at a Blazing Sevens
machine. “Max bet this one.”

“It’s a dollar slot.” I shook my
head. “Three dollars a pop. Do you know how long I can play the pennies for
that?”

“Have faith.” She draped her arm
across the top. “And stick a twenty in.”

I eyed the machine, trying to sense
its vibe, but felt nothing. After a few seconds I sighed and dug in my purse.
Dollars were stored in the front pocket for easy access. Twenties I had to dig
for. I pulled out the bill and ran it through my fingers, trying to flatten it.
“One time, that’s it.”

“That’s all you’ll need.” She
plucked the money from me and fed it to the slot machine. The credits dinged,
the number twenty lighting up. “Max bet.”

“Three dollars a spin?” I cringed,
my hand refusing to hit the button. I could have bought souvenirs for all three
kids with those twenty dollars. “This is nuts.”

“Do it.”

Again, I exhaled, accepting the
loss of my money and spun. No win. Not even two for a cherry. “See.”

“Keep betting.” Mara didn’t look at
the payout window, but instead stared at me, smiling.

I pressed it again, this time
winning two dollars. Mara’s fingers began to drum on the top, near the light. I
hit the max bet button. The wheels spun an overly long time and when Mara
stopped drumming, the slots clicked into place.

“Oh, my God, I just won a hundred
dollars.” I reached to cash out, but Mara covered the button.

“Try again.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve never won
this much. I could totally get the kids actual gifts instead of a keychain or
lame T-shirts.”

“How about great gifts for them,
for yourself, and extra to pay next month’s bills?”

“Right.” I laughed, but when she
continued to stare at me, my smile melted and my gaze narrowed. “Are you
controlling the game?”

“How in the world would I do that?”
She grinned so innocently I knew she was lying.

Being a demon probably had a lot of
perks. Causing a slot machine to pay off seemed like a simple feat for a minion
of the Underworld. But should I let her? Wouldn’t it be cheating? Guilt over
being dishonest  lasted about two seconds. I slapped the spin button. The three
windows spun round and round while Mara drummed her fingers against the
machine. When she stopped, the sevens lined up, paying out sixteen hundred
dollars.

My mouth dropped open and I sat
frozen, staring at the amount ratcheting up on my credits. When it finished,
Mara pressed the attendant button. “Now you can cash out.”

I looked at her, slowly composing
myself and whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what?” She shrugged. “It was
your money.”

“Yeah, but…”

She nodded, holding my gaze, “But
nothing. You played the slots like a million other people and got lucky.”

I shoved the straw in my mouth and
drank, a much better option than talking and chancing someone overhearing me.
While we waited for the attendant, we sipped our drinks. Mara appeared calm and
not a bit guilty. I, on the other hand, felt like every security camera watched
me, assessing my every move.

Finally, the assistant arrived.
After another ten minutes, we were on our way to the luncheon, my purse
sixteen-hundred dollars heavier. Once in the hallway leading to the convention
center, I said, “Thanks.”

Mara was silent for a second, and
then replied. “You’re welcome.”

We never spoke about the gambling
again, both of us having sat through Jimmy’s extensive lecture about no
personal gain from situations. Finding out whether a demon nudging a slot
machine in her favor fell into that category wasn’t something I wanted consider
too deeply. And even though the money I won wouldn’t pay an entire month of
bills, it certainly wouldn’t hurt, so I wasn’t complaining.

Remembering Nate wanted me to text
him, I pulled out my phone. A few seconds later, it vibrated with his reply.
“They’re near the front of the banquet room on the left side, toward the
kitchen.”

“Let’s not tell the boys we’ve been
gambling for the last hour.” Mara flipped a swath of auburn hair over her
shoulder. “I like to keep Cam guessing about what I’ve been up to as much as
possible.”

“Roger that.”

We passed through the double doors
at the front of the banquet room. The room was relatively empty, the last
classes before the luncheon not having released yet, which meant Nate would
guess I hadn’t gone. Cam stood and waved us over to the table they’d
commandeered. It sat two rows back on the very end. Probably to get a good view
of the speaker.