Page 29 of Vexed
I snagged a nearby reaper’s robe—black, voluminous, and probably smelled faintly of sulfur—and shoved it at her.
“Put. It. On.”
She fumbled with the thick fabric, finally managing to swaddle herself in it. The robe swallowed her whole. Honestly, she looked like a small, naked human trying to play dress-up as the Grim Reaper. I stifled a laugh.
Now slightly less exposed, she finally took in her surroundings. Her eyes, wide with a mixture of fear and bewilderment, darted around the colossal space.
“What is this place?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “It looks… like a gothic office?”
Okay, she wasn’t entirely wrong. I sighed, raking a hand through my hair. “This is the Morta Tower, darling. Central headquarters for the Department of Death, and the bane of my existence.”
Soaring ceilings were supported by skeletal arches, stained-glass windows depicting scenes of, well, death and dying, cast an eerie kaleidoscope of light across the marble floor.
Instead of pews, there were rows upon rows of desks, each cluttered with stacks of parchment, quills, and the occasional bone paperweight. And thenoise.
The place was a cacophony of scratching quills, hushed whispers, the rustling of paperwork, and the occasional mournful moan emanating from one of the unfortunate souls trapped in the processing queue.
Lily gaped. “The… Department of Death? You’re kidding, right?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” I retorted, gesturing around with a sweep of my arm. “See those guys hunched over those desks? They’re filing your paperwork. Determining your fate. All that jazz.”
She stared, transfixed, as a particularly grim-looking reaper in a pair of spectacles frantically stamped forms with a skull-shaped seal. Another was arguing heatedly with a small,flickering flame—probably a newly deceased soul disputing its placement in the afterlife.
“So… everyone who dies comes here?”
“Eventually. First stop is usually processing, then they get sorted based on, you know, their life choices. Ethereal, Purgatory, reincarnation... the works.” I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the familiar headache of dealing with bureaucratic nightmares rearing its ugly head.
“Look, we need to keep moving. This place is a maze, and that thing outside won’t give up easily.” I started leading her further into the tower, past rows of filing cabinets overflowing with souls’ life histories, past whispering librarians archiving the sins of humanity, past the water cooler where a group of grim reapers were gossiping about the latest soul celebrity death.
Lily stumbled along after me, still wide-eyed and clutching the robe around her like a lifeline. Every so often, she’d stop and stare, her human brain struggling to process the sheer absurdity of the afterlife bureaucracy.
“So, like, do you have a boss?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief. I shuddered.
“Let’s just say he’s not exactly HR-compliant. And trust me, you donotwant to meet him. Now, come on. We need to find a way out of here, before that beast breaks down the door or...“ I paused, noticing a particularly agitated-looking reaper marching toward us. Ophiel. “beforehefinds me. Dammit.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Vex
Okay, okay, don’t panic, Vex. Just… breathe. Except I barely breathe. Breathing is for the living. And speaking of the living, I have a very small, veryaliveone clinging to me as I practically drag her through the obsidian hallways of the Morta Tower.
“Keep your head down, Lily,” I muttered, tugging her closer.
We were a few corridors away from the Hall of Lost Souls when I heard it—the familiar, irritatingly cheerful whistle of Adimus. Seriously? He is one of the Arc Reapers, who usuallystands guard at the door to the Human Realm. It’s just my luck that now is the time that he isn’t there.
“Vexlorn!” Adimus boomed, his crimson robes practically glowing in the dim light.
Oh, for the love of…
“Adimus!” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though my internal alarm bells were going off like a banshee convention. Lily had instinctively ducked behind me, clutching my shirt for dear life.
Adimus hadn’t noticed. Thank fuck. Probably because he was too busy admiring his reflection in the polished obsidian walls.
“Just heading to the dispensary. Heard they got a fresh batch of Soul-Soothers. You in?” He grinned, flashing his unnervingly white teeth.
Now or never. “Listen, Adimus, I need a favor. A big one.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Ooh, juicy. What is it?”
