Free Styx & Stoned (The Grim Reality Series Book 2) by Boone Brux Page B

all.” Tabris gestured
toward the group. “As you know, the situation with Charon is escalating.
Already the spirits are filtering back, which means the riverbanks are full,
and no more spirits can be delivered.”
    “The longer those souls remain
undelivered, the greater the chance of being claimed by rogue demons,” said a
young woman from Heaven’s side. “Balance between good and evil will be lost,
which could set events in motion that we won’t be able to recover from.”
    “That’s why we need to take
preemptive action,” Tabris said.
    “What kind of preemptive action?”
Mara asked, echoing my own question.
    “We—” he swooped his hand around
the circle, “—need your help.”
    My gaze skated to the silent group.
All sixteen eyes were leveled on me, and I suddenly knew what a deer in the
headlights felt like.
    “Of course, we’ll help any way we
can.” I managed a half-smile, which none of the group returned, and then faced
Tabris. Keeping my train of thought was a lot easier if I focused on him. “But
shouldn’t Nate and Cam be here, too? Personally speaking, Nate is a lot better
at this kind of thing than I am.”
    “No,” said the woman dressed in
white. “Right now, you are the only one who can help us keep this contained.”
Even though she spoke softly, her silvery-blue gaze speared me. This was a
woman who didn’t take crap from anybody or hear the word no very often—if
ever. “We also have need of Mara and her knowledge about the River Styx.”
    We looked at each other, Mara’s
signature eyebrow arching in a silent WTH .
    “What we are asking of you is a
little unorthodox,” Tabris said. “But desperate times call for thinking outside
the box.”
    “What is it you want me to do?” A
thousand possibilities popped into my head—none of which I liked. “This doesn’t
involve seducing Charon, or traveling into the bowels of Hell, does it?”
    “Nothing like that, Lisa.” He gave
a disingenuous chuckle that raised my first row of defenses. With deliberately
slow movements, Tabris folded his hands in his lap and swiveled in his seat,
giving me his full attention. A lazy smile coupled with the slight tilt of his
head was his attempt at reassurance through body language. Warning sirens went
off in my head. Whatever bomb he was about to drop, I knew I wasn’t going to
like it.
    He inhaled, and I braced myself.
“We need you to ferry the dead.”
    His words bounced right off my
head, refusing to sink in. “Come again?”
    “Charon has made no move to return,
and someone needs to start ferrying the dead across the river.” The deep voice
of the large black man, one of Hell’s reps, cut through the room. He placed his
ankle across his knee and draped his arm across the back of the brocade chair.
“At this time, you are the only person capable of running the ferry.”
    “Me?” He’d said that like I was the
obvious choice, which was ridiculous. A doughnut eating contest, I’m in. A
sci-fi movie marathon, again, I’m your girl. But ferrying the dead, not so
much. “I’ve never driven a boat in my life. I mean, there was that one time I
took a day cruise on Prince William Sound, but I didn’t drive the boat.” I
pressed my hand to my stomach. “I get seasick.”
    “None of that matters,” a
white-haired woman from Hell’s team stated. “And Mara will help you navigate
the waters.”
    “We are both happy to do our part,”
Mara said, “but with all due respect, asking something like this from us raises
a lot of questions. At the very least, I think we deserve to have them
answered.”
    Go, Mara.
    “I understand.” Tabris’s smile was
placating, but from the tight press of his lips and touch of coldness in his
eyes, I could see he was running out of patience. “We don’t mean to appear
callus. It’s just that the situation is rather dire and getting worse by the
minute.” He held out his hand toward Mara. “Please, ask your questions.”
    “Styx is