Stone Cold by Devon Monk Page B

took a couple of steps toward me. I could hear her bootheels on the concrete.
    I grinned. “So we’re both dead. That, my dear, is worth celebrating.” I held my arm out for her. “Shall we see what’s behind door number one?”
    â€œWhy not? This is your heaven.”
    â€œYou taking bets we went up?”
    â€œTrust me, Shame. If this was hell, we’d know by now.”
    She took my arm, and together, we walked through the door.
    Death and a ghost walk into a bar in heaven . . .
    Inside was all wood and brass, two walls of booze, and a shelf that ran round the top of the room, bottles shining like jewels caught in a halo up above our heads.
    Heaven indeed.
    A couple dozen tables filled the floor; a few candlelit corner booths rounded the edges of the place.
    â€œMy God,” I breathed. Because the room wasn’t empty. No, not at all. There were plenty of people here. People I’d known. People I’d loved. People I’d lost.
    This wasn’t heaven. I’d finally come home.
    â€œShame!” Chase called, waving me over to her table where she sat with Greyson.
    â€œGo,” Eleanor said. “But you aren’t getting out of this place without buying me a drink, hotshot.” She gave me a little shove, and I smiled again and headed over to Chase.
    â€œSo the rumors are true,” Chase said. “They’ll let anyone into this place.”
    Sight for sore heart, Chase was lovely. Hair pulled back in one long ponytail just the way she used to wear it when she, Zayvion, Terric, Greyson, and I were training in the Authority. Learning to use magic, learning to hunt the Hungers that used to cross through gates and give us hell.
    We were brothers in arms. Maybe more than that. Chase had been all set up to exchange vows with Zay before her Soul Complement, Greyson, rolled onto the scene. Their breakup had been hard on Zay. Then Greyson had been taken, experimented upon, and eventually he and Chase had been used and killed by a couple of crazy Soul Complements who wanted to destroy the world.
    Proving once again that there was no happily ever after for Soul Complements.
    Well, except maybe in death.
    â€œChase, darlin’,” I said as I pulled up a chair and plunked down. “Aren’t you looking fine?”
    â€œFor a dead chick, you mean?”
    â€œHey, now,” Greyson, who was sitting next to her, said. “For any kind of chick.” He looked like his original human self, brown hair, square face, football player good looks, and eyes that didn’t reflect the hell he’d been through in life. He wrapped his arm across the back of her chair and gave me a warm smile. “Don’t make moves on my girl, Shamus. I can still kick your ass.”
    â€œStill? Obviously death has addled your memory. You couldn’t kick a baby duck’s ass.”
    â€œStill ninety-nine percent bullshit and one percent pitiful, aren’t you?” he said. “I didn’t think we’d see you so soon. Did you drunk it down a flight of stairs or something?”
    Images flashed across my vision, brighter, stronger than the bar, more real than the table, than my friends.
    Bullets tearing holes through me. Terric falling . . . a knife.
    I blinked, and they were gone.
    â€œShame?” Chase said. “Are you okay?”
    â€œFine,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. I felt good, better than I think I had in years. Not a single inch of my body hurt, and the grinding fear and hatred of the Death magic eating away inside me was gone. I felt free, light. And strangely, more alive than I ever had before.
    â€œSo, you two?” I asked. “I know things didn’t go so well for you dirt-side. Despite your attitude,” I said to Greyson, “it’s good to see you both. Really good. I’m sorry we couldn’t have done more to help you. That we didn’t catch Leander before he . . .”