The dead are restless, and a whole lot less cooperative than they have been. That was true even before I drew the short straw and ended up with Vampire duty. Since then, Reaping has taken way more time. So much, I’m worried I’ll lose all the clients from the career that actually feeds me. I run a small private pilot school. It pays most of the bills and means I don’t have to keep regular hours. Death wants me to remain in one piece. She’s bailed me out often enough, she’s all but ordered me to find other employment. I just smile and nod after our little talks, and then I climb back into a cockpit. Our last toe-to-toe didn’t go so well. She went and assigned Vampires to me. That’s when Reaping turned into a million-hour-a-week job. I can almost hear the Reaper who was stuck with them before, laughing his head off. I shepherd souls to the other side. Vampires have zero interest in leaving, but I have a quota to fill. Means I have to trick them, but it didn’t work for long. They’re onto me. Damn Death, anyway. She painted a target on my back, and now the Vamps are out for blood. In more ways than one.

Come fly with me. Catchy, huh? It works for airplanes. Maybe it will work for the dead once I launch my own Reaping business. Except my new tagline will be, come die with me. Back when my life was simpler, I thought all I had to do was hold gateways for the dead to pass through. Silly me, I actually enjoyed Reaping. Almost like a drug or fine, old whiskey, it made me high, filled me with delight, and left me glowing with the rightness of providing a last bit of compassion. Good little Reaper that I am, I never examined any of it too deeply, just crafted portals, exactly as Death trained me. Ha! She neglected to mention I command way more magic than she’d let on in Reaper school. Death smiled pretty to my face, and then lied to me. Used me. Me and all the other Reapers. I can’t not Reap. It’s hardwired into me. But I can tell Death I quit. Big words. I have no idea if I’ve got the guts to follow through, or what Death would do about open insubordination. I’ve always liked to live on the wild side, though, so I guess I’m about to find out.