Free The Wrong Goodbye by Chris F. Holm Page B

there?"
      "What?" I said, snapping out of my reverie. "Yeah. I'm still here." For now, I added mentally – because once my superiors caught wind of the fact that I'd lost Varela's soul, they were going to shelve me for sure. Which meant I had to find that soul, and fast. 
      "You wanna tell me how you knew my name?" 
      "I know your name because I heard it from the guy who was sent to kill you."
      "This guy," he asked, his face clouded with sudden anger, "he a friend of yours?"
  "He was ," I said.
      "Yeah? The way you say that, it don't sound like you and him are very buddy-buddy now." 
      "No," I said, "it really doesn't."
      "Well, it's a shame for him he missed me, 'cause now that fucker's gonna hafta pay."
      "I hope that's true," I said, "but Danny didn't miss." 
      "The fuck're you talking about?"
      "Look at yourself, man – this the body you remember?"
      He did. It wasn't. He kinda freaked a little, then, but once I calmed him down, I explained as best I could. When I finished, he sat there stunned for a while, saying nothing, and occasionally shaking his head in disbelief. Eventually, though, he found his voice. 
      "So I'm dead, then, huh?" 
      "Yup." 
      "And damned to hell for all eternity."
      "Yup."
      "And you – you're some kind of fucking Grim Reaper!"
      I let out a bark of a laugh, shrill and humorless. "More like the devil's mailman," I replied. 
      "I dunno, dude – I think you're selling yourself short. You gave me another body. Another chance ." 
      "More like a short reprieve."
      He considered that a moment. "So what's to keep me from taking off? Making a run for it, and starting somewhere new?"
      "Well, me , for one – I mean, you've got to know I can't just let you walk. And even if I did , they'd hunt you down. Your soul belongs to hell now – and believe me, these guys always get their man. My guess is you wouldn't last a week. Besides, you're not going to take off on me – not when we have a job to do."
      " Really ," he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. "You and me working together like some kinda buddycomedy? I gotta tell you, dude, I don't see it. I mean, ain't you one of the guys I should be hiding from in the first place? What makes you think I'd wanna help you?"
      "Because the man who killed you also fucked me over but good. Because I plan to hunt him down and make him pay. And because right now, you're the best lead I've got. So you tell me – you want to see the bastard hang?"
      He seemed to mull it over for a second, and then he smiled.
      "Shit," he said. "Just tell me where we start."
      I helped the big man to his feet, and looked him up and down. "Why don't we start by getting you some clothes?"

8.
      
  
  
    "So how's this work, exactly?" Gio asked, tucking his shirt into his dress pants and straightening his tie. "How'm I gonna help you find this guy?" 
      "When a Collector takes a mark's soul, there's this moment – a moment when that Collector experiences the lifetime of joy and sorrow, of happiness and regret, that brought the mark into their grasp. The thing is, that moment cuts both ways, which means that once it comes to pass, the collected can forever sense the presence of the person who collected them. That isn't usually much of an issue, on account of once the collection happens, the collected's dead , but in the rare instance a Collector makes a play and misses, it can make their second try a bitch. And if, after you're collected, you're unlucky enough to wind up a Collector yourself, that ability to sense the one who collected you never fades – it gnaws at you for all eternity."
      "Wait – you're telling me I'm like some kind of asshole compass? That you're gonna follow me to the dude who screwed us over?"
      "I wish it were that simple," I said. "But for you to sense Danny, we're going to have to get you close to him. Which means we need to find out where he's gone off to