The reaper followed the martial arts expert into the busy street. The quality of light changed in this place after dark. It was no darker than day, but different, more exotic, alluring. Those things that seemed an assault on his senses two hours before now wrapped him in a thick, protective blanket of anonymity.

Her long legs kept pace with his. She walked with her shoulders back and her chin held high.

She glanced sideways at him. "I told you about my family. What about yours? Were your parents psychics that passed their powers on to you? That's really how you knew my name and where to find me, right?"

Laughing with her was wonderful. "Yes," he admitted. "Something like that."

They found the club the hostess had recommended. A black painted door, propped open, was guarded by an enormous bouncer with close cropped hair. A long line of would-be partiers waited for his permission to enter. A black absence of light, a kind of negative aura, surrounded him--a demon of the outer realm. He raised an eyebrow at Max who tipped his head in return. This was neither the time nor the place for a fight. Without a word the demon waved them through.

"Wow! I can't believe he let us in like that!" Lily exclaimed.

"He probably sensed you could kill him with your bare hands."

"Aikido is peaceful," she reminded him.

"He might not have known that."

She rolled her eyes and led him to the bar. It wasn't the kind of nightclub where a person had to scream to be heard, but she definitely needed to raise her voice to request two Jack and Cokes.

A familiar tug pulled on Max, a force he'd followed so many times before the reaction to let it pull him away from the world around him was automatic.

And then, silence.

Max stood in a void, the only light coming from a green shaded lamp on a wide metal desk.

"No!" He stomped over to the desk and slammed his palms down. "No! I'm on vacation, Harriet. Call someone else."

Harriet glanced at him over the rim of the half-moon spectacles she wore for show. Angels weren't myopic. "Vegas one-four-three is new. She fell behind. You're in town. You can pick up the slack."

"I'm on vacation, Harriet," he said again.

"Death doesn't take a vacation," she droned, fishing through a stack of pink slips for the one she meant to give him.

"I'm not Death."

"You're Death's eldest son. Close enough for me." She held the slip up with no sign of pity or remorse at having ruined his fun. "You can step in, even if you do reek like a wino in a city gutter."

He snatched the paper from her hand, gritting his teeth in fury. "You can't tell me there's no one else who could take care of this."

"No one with your kind of record."

His eyes narrowed on her. "You expect this to be a difficult reap, don't you?"

"Everything's on the order." She turned to her dinosaur of a computer monitor, signaling that the conversation was over.

"I don't have to do this, you know."

Harriet did not reply.

"I'm on vacation!" Geez. Even to his own ears he sounded whiny. With an immense sigh he stood up straight. The foundation beneath his feet swayed.

"Being drunk is going to make this harder," Harriet mumbled without looking at him.

He shot her an evil look and considered arguing about his state, but the truth was undeniable. He was wasted. His lips tingled and his legs felt like lead.

One glance at the order told him all he needed to know. "Really, Harriet? A whole family?"

"We would have let someone less experienced do it if that were possible, but it isn't so, here you are, Mr. Big, Tall, and Schnockered."

He tripped over his feet, transitioning back to earth, and sloshed his drink across the bar. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" he stammered, grabbing a stack of napkins and dabbing at Lily's arm. His alcohol-soaked brain struggled to re-align itself with her time frame. Had she been saying something when he'd been yanked into the void? Had gravity pulled so heavily on his limbs before he'd gone?

She took one of the napkins and wiped away the amber liquid. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah. Yeah, uhm, will you find us a table? I need to use the restroom."

She took his drink without a word, but a tiny line formed between her eyebrows.

Max skirted the crowd and found the bathroom. Locked away from everyone else, he pulled out his phone. Punching in the address, he saw the family was close by, less than a block away. 10:17. He had twelve minutes.

The temptation to curse Harriet was strong, but there was no time to waste pouting.

Leaving the bathroom, he glanced around and saw a glowing red exit sign over a swinging door with a small circular window at eye level. The clanging of spoons against metal pans, the hissing rush of water, and voices raised to bark commands over the clatter slipped through the cracks around the edges.

Jogging toward the noise, he pushed the door open and bumped into a tiny man carrying an enormous pot of boiling water. "Sorry!" Max shouted, staggering forward on feet sluggish to obey his commands. Then he was out the door and on the street again, the angry curses of the kitchen staff dying away behind him.

His feet pounded against the pavement, through the alley toward the busy street. Noisy crowds of late-night revelers stinking of alcohol and smoke impeded his progress. He pressed on, letting go of form as he ran. By the time he reached the end of the block he slipped through the night unseen, a phantom no more noticed than a breath of wind.

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What do you think so far about Max and Lily? I'll give you the heads-up now... things are about to take a turn for the distinctly dark and creepy. 

As always, thank you for voting and/or commenting. It always lifts my spirits! <3