“You can call it cosmic law—an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Or just karma. Whatever you prefer. Unfortunately, that’s the rule.” I was getting ready to interrupt her when Death raised her index finger, and I stopped moving—even breathing. “I do believe in free will, dear. I don’t want people working for me who don’t want the job. But before you decide, I want you to meet a few friends of mine.”
I had an incredulous look on my face. Death smiled gently at me. I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to say anything.
Death continued. “You might actually enjoy the fringe benefits of the job. Even more, you might find purpose again.”
“With all due respect, Death, please don’t act like you know me. You know nothing about what I want or need.” I hated when my elders tried to put me in their boxes. I didn’t care that it was Death making the assumptions.
She just kept giving me that infuriating smile. “Whatever you say, Isis. Please have a seat.” Death’s voice was even gentler, but it left no room for argument. I felt myself drawn to the chair again. “You will meet with my friends tonight, and you will have three days to decide whether you will take the job. The boys will fill you in on all the details.”
“What makes you so sure I’ll take this job?” Why was I arguing with Death? Oh, yeah. It was that horrible streak in me that hated being controlled.
Death got up from the futon and smoothed down her suit. She looked around my apartment, taking inventory. I felt offended.
“Things have been arranged, dear. Trust me, it will be your choice if you come work for me, but I’m sure it’s a much better offer than what you have right now.” Death walked around the table and stood next to my chair. She smiled down at me and then went over and kissed my forehead. Before I could complain, I felt my body shutting down, and I was slowly falling. In a blink of an eye, I blacked out.
Chapter 3
I heard voices, but I couldn’t make them out. Was I dead? My eyelids were heavy, and there was a heavy weight on my chest. Death said she didn’t kill people; maybe she had made an exemption.
“Constantine, get off her. You’re killing her,” I heard a man say. Or was it a boy?
“No way, dude. I don’t weight that much,” another male said—the one who was sitting on me. I tried to move but couldn’t.
“You’re at least fifteen pounds of solid fur, with pressure points directly on her chest.” What was the boy talking about? Why was a man in a fur coat sitting on me? How does a grown man weigh only fifteen pounds?
I was finally able to open my eyes.
“Ahhhhh.” I couldn’t help it. I was staring at a pair of feline eyes inches from my face.
“See? I told you. She’s not dead.” It talked. The cat on my chest was talking. I was dead. There was no other explanation.
“Fine. You’re right. Not dead. Can you get off her now? She might like to breathe properly now.” The boy was sitting in front of three computer monitors to my left.
I was lying on a black leather couch. The cat jumped up and sat on the back of the couch glaring down at me. Directly in front of the couch was a fifty-inch flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. Above the computer stations, at least a dozen security monitors were mounted to the wall, each with a different image that changed every fifteen seconds. Instead of a wall on the right-hand side, there was wall-to-wall glass. The bottom half of the glass was darker. From my location I noticed we were on the second floor of a building. I guessed the boy and the cat were staring at me.
“Hi, I’m Bartholomew.” The boy walked over to me and extended his hand. He looked to be around eleven, maybe five feet and less than a hundred pounds. He had wavy brown hair and hazel eyes.
After several long moments, I shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Isis.” What was going on here?
“Isis? Like—”
“Not like the terrorist group.”
“I was going to say like the Egyptian goddess,” he said with a smile on his face. “You’re a little too old to be named after that group.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, you’re right. Nobody ever guesses that.” First person who had gotten it right, and I sounded like a royal jerk.
“I’m impressed. She’s willing to apologize,” the cat said.
I stared at him. My head was going to explode if I took any more of this. He was a handsome cat, a tabby with gorgeous stripes, but he was huge.
“Please tell me what’s going on.” My voice cracked, but I was too stunned to care.
“Like I said, I’m Bartholomew, and this is Constantine. Death brought you over.” Bartholomew sounded way too cheery to be talking about Death.
“Am I dead? Or are you part of my three spirits that are here to tell me how to change my life?” Because my life had turned into a horrible Lifetime movie.
“Kid, you’ve been watching way too much TV. Death told you the deal. You kill her intern, you take his place. We’re here to guide you,” Constantine said very matter-of-factly. I was never going to get used to a talking cat.
“Constantine is the guardian. He’s your walking resource guide to the supernatural world. Trust me, when it comes to that stuff, he’s better than Google,” Bartholomew said as he went back to his computer area.
“And what is your job here?” I needed to work on my people skills, but I had a talking cat on my left. At this point, I was too stunned to care.
“Your supply guy. Anything you want, I can get,” Bartholomew said.
“He’s also a hacker and a genius. If Death weren’t his legal
