Whatever was waiting for him at HQ, he'd survive it.
He had to.
He had somewhere to be.
CHAPTER 18
The transition from the ice cream parlor to Reaper HQ was instantaneous and disorienting, as always. One moment Greg was being dragged through a door in Colorado, the next he was standing in the fluorescent purgatory of the office.
He was welcomed home by the distant hum of the perpetually jammed printer and the faint smell of coffee that lingered in the air.
Valerie marched him down the corridor toward Morrith's office, her posture ramrod straight. Her expression could have frozen hellfire.
Greg followed in miserable silence, mentally composing his defense.I wasn't fraternizing, I was conducting extended observation. The ice cream was research. The almost-kiss was?—
Actually, he had no explanation for the almost-kiss.
They turned a corner. Morrith's cubicle loomed ahead, but Valerie suddenly stopped. She glanced left, then right. The hallway was empty.
Then she grabbed Greg by the shoulders and shoved him into the supply closet.
“What—” Greg stumbled backward into a shelf of filing folders. “Valerie, what are you doing?”
“Okay.” Valerie shut the door behind her and whirled to face him. Her entire demeanor had transformed. The stern efficiency was gone, replaced by something Greg had never seen on her face before.
Excitement.
“Spill,” she said.
Greg blinked. “What?”
“The tea, Grigoreth. Spill it. All of it. Right now.” She looked at him expectantly. “How long has this been going on? How did it start? Is he a good kisser? He looks like he'd be a good kisser.”
Greg's brain short-circuited. “I—we haven't—there's no?—”
“Don't you dare hold out on me.” Valerie jabbed a finger at his chest. “I have been assigned to 'peaceful passings' in the Midwest for the past forty years.Forty years, Greg. Do you know how boring peaceful passings are? Nothing happens. No one has any drama. Everyone just... dies in their beds surrounded by loving family members.” She said this like it was a personal insult. “I haven't had a single interesting conversation indecades.”
“I thought you were going to report me to Morrith.”
“Oh, I am. Absolutely. You're in massive trouble and he's going to tear you a new one.” She waved this off like it was irrelevant. “But first—details. That human could see me. He called it adate. He touched yourface. What is happening?”
Greg opened his mouth, but he didn't have the words. “I don't know,” he admitted.
“You don'tknow?”
“It's complicated!”
“Un-complicate it!” Valerie crossed her arms. “Start from the beginning. Your assignment didn't die when he was supposed to. Then what?”
Greg leaned against the shelf of folders, suddenly exhausted. “Then I tried to complete the collection manually.”
Valerie's eyebrows shot up. “You tried to kill him?”
“Morrith said to fix it!”
“Morrith says a lot of things. Most of us just file the paperwork and move on.” She studied him with new interest. “You actually tried to cause a death?You? The Hallmark Harvester?”
Greg winced at the nickname. “I cut his parachute lines. He fell eight hundred feet.” He paused. “He survived.”
