1
When I was growing up,my entire neighborhood thought I was the girl who liked to play with dead things. Now, that wasn’t quite true in my opinion, but it was true enough for me to be shunned at the tender age of six. The shunning hadn’t quite stopped, even at the age of 25, but now people paid me to be weird. Quite a lot, actually, even though you couldn’t tell by my mostly moderatesurroundings.
As trade-offs for a social life went, I considered it mostly awin.
With a name like Reaper, it was inevitable that someone would wind up being the family necromancer. I had two sisters and a brother, and while both were blessed with magical talent, mine was the only one that caused people to cross the street to avoidme.
I’d consider that to be mostly a win, too. People were inherently selfish and when they realized my services could mean that death was not the end, they were lining up at the door begging for myhelp.
I turned down seventy five percent of the people who showed up at my house. Death wastechnicallythe end, which is why it was so important to live every day like it could be your last. But it was easy for people who’d never been touched by the icy hand of the Reaper (therealReaper, not little ol’ me) to feel like they deserved more time. I was merely a minion of the Reaper. Or so I liked to tell myself when I had too much time to think aboutit.
I politely shut the door on people who demanded I bring back their 85-year-old grandparents. I also shut the door on people who were pissed about their share in the will and wanted me to resurrect people so they could get one last ass-chewing in. Or, the even more popular option, to beg them to reconsider. That usually went over like a leadballoon.
I did, however, quietly work for the Midnight Cove court system when someone contested their family will, only when meticulous research couldn’t definitively prove the inheritance one way or the other. Nine times out of ten, this meant I usually found myself in the middle of a massive family brawl. I hated those cases, but they paid well, so I kept getting reeled back. Plus, as raisings went, they were pretty easy and straightforward. Awkward nine times out of ten, but sometimes pretty karmic. I always liked seeing karma in action. Some people thought karma meant getting even, I thought it meant hahahahahahaha. But that was just me. And sometimes I could be petty. I guess it was part of the package when you were surrounded by dead things all thetime.
That wasn’t to say I didn’t like the living, thank you very much. It was more that the living had a bit of a problem with me. Being the town’s necromancer didn’t endear me to a lot of people. Not to say they were all terrified of me. There were a few I considered friends, a lot who were polite, and some who didn’t seem to care one way or the other. The only time I got some really ugly looks was when I went to the local plant nursery. As if someone like me should dare touch beautiful living things likeplants.
The ugly stares were so bad, I’d taken to calling the store and asking them to pull my plants for me so I could just run in, pay, and get out of there. The owner, Hank, was a grumpy old cuss, but he didn’t seem to care what I was or what I did. Actually, he wasn’t old, but he was about as personable as a bear during mating season. He said little to me, but he never judged. All he seemed to want was mymoney.
Good enough for me. Plus, he had a real eye for picking out the best plants.Waybetter than me. So now it wasn’t as annoying as it would normally be because ever since Hank had started picking out my plants, they didn’t die as often as they usedto.
The knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts. Tea sloshed over the top of my cup, making me hiss as the hot liquid splashed my thighs. I didn’t have any appointments today, but that didn’t mean people wouldn’t intrude on my days off. Death stopped for no man. And I, Helen Reaper, had to remind them the dead weren’t going anywhere and Saturdays were my days for Netflixing, leggings, and eating too many cookies while lamenting my love life. Not necessarily in thatorder.
I thought for a second about not answering the door. That thought died a quick and painful death when the bell buzzed twice more. Whoever it was, they thought the need was urgent. I sighed, set my mug down, and got up to answer the door still wearing mypajamas.
I peeked out the privacy hole but no one was there. Weird. Maybe they were standing off to the side. “Hello?” Iasked.
Noresponse.
A strange whimpering noise caught my attention. I whipped open the door to give the person a piece of my mind, but my porch was empty. My gaze swept the area, but whoever it was had already left. I was about to slam the door when the noise came again. I frowned but I still couldn’t find it when something wet nudged mytoe.
“Aagh,” I yelled, jumping back inhorror.
I lookeddown.
An adorable, golden retriever puppy stared up at me. Deep brown and intelligent eyes gazed into my soul. A red bow adorned its neck. Attached to the bow was a note with my name on it. I looked at the puppy again. “I hope you know how to get home,” Isaid.
The puppy gave me an annoyed yap. I took the note, gave the puppy a side-eyed stare, and flipped itopen.
Helen Reaper, there’s a man who doesn’t mind what youare.
He’s alreadydead.
Accept this gift with the compliments of The Deadication Dating Agency, Midnight Cove’s premiere dating service, boasting a 100% success rate since1475.
We will be intouch.
Okay,first of all, it wassuperpresumptive to get someone a puppy. You just drop a living thing into someone’s lap and expect them to just willingly do all the work needed to keep it alive? Second, it was even more presumptive to assume I was lonely. Seriously. Maybe I was happy with my Saturday Netflix binges and scattered stacks of paperbacks littering my coffee table. And even if I wasn’t happy, wasn’t it super rude to comment onit?
I glared at the puppy. It was the only living thing available for me to be angry at. The puppy immediately flopped over for a belly rub. Its tongue lolled out of itsmouth.
A smile peeked out from the side of my mouth. Cute dog couldn’t help but be cute. But I couldn’t keep it. Could I? Apparently cute dog had no such qualms because as soon as I reached down and gave its belly a rub, it bounded up and flopped its way into myhouse.
“You better not pee on my good rug,” I screeched as I ran afterit.
There werea lot of things no one ever considered when confronted with an animal they never expected to have. First, there was the matter of not having a clue what it ate or when or how much. Second, was the business of...business. Animals couldn’t clean up after themselves, so that left the gross task to me. As much as I was annoyed with the meddling of the dating service, part of me wasunsurprised.
The Deadication Dating Agency had a checkered history of getting involved in the residents of Midnight Cove’s business for longer than I could remember. But the thing was...they had a spotless track record. I knew of at least two couples who were set up by them who were going strong but the agency’s methods were not without theirissues.
