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"Go ahead and sit down," Renata said. "I'll pick out a few options for you."

  Abbie sank into the chair, closing her eyes.

  She couldn't believe she'd left Aunt Kim that way. Her aunt had joked about how eventually they could just be a couple of old spinsters together with fifteen cats and a freezer full of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

  Instead they'd only had five years.

  Kim had taken her in when her own mother had basically disowned her. There had been no hesitation, no "this'll work until you find someplace else", just a hug and a quickly-cleaned guest room. Then, when Kim thought she was sleeping, she'd called her older sister and gone into a rant that would've made Samuel L. Jackson proud. Abbie had listened to that call, crying silently, because it was all the support she'd wanted and expected from her mom, and even though it was coming from a different source, she still had it and she'd been so, so grateful.

  She'd intended on doing everything she could to make her aunt's life easier. Dying in her guest bathroom and probably sending her into therapy for the rest of her life had not been part of the plan.

  Abbie jumped when Renata slid a shoe onto her bare foot. She'd been so lost in her worries she'd almost forgotten she wasn't alone.

  Then she stared down at her foot in disbelief. She knew the shoe had been mud-brown a moment before—she'd seen it—but now that it was on her foot it had transformed itself into an emerald-green peep toe heel. "What the…"

  "Aren't they wonderful?" Renata asked. "I can see the basics, can tell which shoes come with which powers, but every time someone tries them on they make little alterations to fit their wearer. You like the color green?"

  Abbie nodded, still transfixed by the shoe. "It's my favorite."

  "Wonderful. Would you like to go with this pair, then? Or I've got a few others here," she said, patting the small stack she'd gathered while Abbie had been distracted by her thoughts.

  "Do you have anything that's a little less… well, flashy?" Abbie asked. Aside from the fact they weren't her style—she'd go barefoot all the time if possible—she was pretty sure she'd break her ankle if she tried walking in 6-inch heels.

  Could she break an ankle, now? Obviously she couldn't die, but could she get hurt?

  "I'm afraid most of the succubi shoes are pretty flashy," Renata said. "But I'll see what I can find. Back in a moment."

  She walked away and headed to the racks upon racks of shoes, browsing among pairs that all looked exactly the same to Abbie.

  "Hi there. I'm Trevor. You just arrive?"

  Abbie turned to see a man who looked to be in his mid-forties sitting on a chair ten feet away. The guy assisting him carried up a stack of at least fifteen pairs of shoes, setting them down opposite from a tall pile of discards. The guide looked exhausted.

  "Yeah," she said. "You?"

  "Several hours ago. It's hard to find the right pair, isn't it?" he asked. "The clothes make the man, of course, and with a new job that's this important, I have to make sure everything's perfect. I'm assigned to the reaper division, you know."

  "Succubus," Abbie said. "But not for long."

  "Why not?"

  "I'm asexual. Don't think it'd be a good fit."

  "Hm," he said, looking her up and down. "What a waste."

  "And… I'm done with you," Abbie said, turning away. She caught sight of Renata's face, saw the grin there before the banshee could fully hide it.

  That quick grin changed Renata's face, bringing to mind whispered conversation and laughter, and Abbie felt a burst of affection.

  "Found these," Renata said, setting down three pairs of shoes. "They're kitten heels, not quite as high. I thought about bringing you some of the incubus shoes, which are flat, but they have a different kind of energy than the succubi. Both of them gain energy from sexual contact, of course, but over the centuries incubi and vampire lore has intertwined, so incubi tend to be much more predatory. I figured given your sexuality, you might not want that."

  "No, I… I don't," she said, sliding on the first shoe Renata handed her. It was a low heel, the same emerald green as the first shoe she'd tried on, with an elegant arrangement of black rhinestones on either side.

  "I know it sounds quite strange, but the shoes actually contain your job orientation. It used to be that each one of us would have to spend weeks and weeks with every newcomer, trying to train them in their new work. Then the Director had the idea to magick all the shoes. Now we do a much more basic orientation, and all the new arrivals can start gathering energy that much sooner."

  "So I'll just automatically know what to do?"

  "Well, once I show you how to access the surface, yes." Hope flared, and Renata immediately shook her head. "You'll be in a completely different geographic location. And even if you weren't—"

  "What? I shouldn't tell her I'm all right?"

  "It's against the law."

  "And what are they gonna do if I break it?" Abbie asked. "Give me the death penalty?"

  "If you walk up to your aunt's door and knock right now, she might join you here a lot sooner than she was meant to," Renata said. "Besides that, she's grieving. She'll have the support of her friends and her community. If you show yourself, whatever explanation you give won't be enough. She'll want you back with her. And of course there's nothing wrong with that. But she'll hold on to that hope, and eventually she'll tell people that she's seen you, and she'll go from having support to being ostracized. The process of grief is important. It's why the law was made in the first place."

  Abbie nodded once, feeling numb, and slid the other shoe onto her foot.

  "There we go," Renata said encouragingly. "Now, let's get you to the surface."

  Abbie got to her feet, and though she didn't feel anything inside her break, something must have, because all of a sudden there were tears pouring down her cheeks, and Renata looked panicky as she took hold of her shoulders and gently pushed her back down.

  "It's okay," Renata said. "You'll be fine."

  "No, I won't," Abbie gasped. "I can't do this. There's got to be someone else to talk to. Right?"

  "Perhaps, but it'll take some time," Renata said, kneeling down in front of her and taking her hands. Abbie pulled away.

  "Don't," she muttered. "All that touchy-feely shit isn't my thing, okay?"

  "Okay," Renata said. "Just breathe, all right?"

  And suddenly the tears were interrupted by laughter that Abbie felt equally unable to stop. "I'm dead and you told me to breathe," she squeaked, and the corner of Renata's mouth crooked up.

  "Yes, well, some expressions take a long time to die out." She waggled her eyebrows, and Abbie shook her head as she got herself back under control.

  "That one was trying too hard."

  "I know."

  "So who's the next person to talk to?" Abbie asked.

  "Let me see," Renata said, opening her file again. "It'll probably be about four or five weeks before we can get an audience. Asexuals are most always assigned to be reapers or fae or sidhe, so there must have been some mistake in your case. Your Assignment Overseer was… hm, that's odd. Usually Odette is much better about such things."

  "Which is why there's such a line to get in to see her, right? No complaints at all."

  "I'll do everything I can to hurry the process along."

  "I know," Abbie said. "Sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you. This isn't your fault."

  "Fault doesn't matter right now," Renata said. "Every soul deals with death differently. One woman—she's still out in the common area somewhere; her name's Vivian—was just overjoyed to get here. Most enthusiastic ghost I've ever met, and a wonderful community organizer. And another woman, poor thing, was very prepared for death. Had made all the arrangements and she'd been in the hospital over a month, knew it was coming, but she was inconsolable for months after she arrived. We'll figure this out. I promise. I won't leave your side until you're settled."

  In that case, Abbie couldn't help but think, she might never want to get s
ettled.

  She almost gave the quip voice, but immediately decided against it. Just because she didn't want to jump someone's bones didn't mean she couldn't care about them, even romantically, but she'd learned that ninety-nine percent of the time it was too difficult to try and explain.

  So she would stay quiet, and just appreciate the fact that even though the situation as a whole sucked, she at least had Renata for a while longer.

  Renata

  "So that's how you Transport," Renata said. "Now don't try to go more than three or four feet at first. Best to keep them small when you're practicing." Also, she doubted Abbie had the energy to be able to do a jump bigger than that. The common area itself was enormous, and then there were the honeycombed rows upon rows of private quarters, and the specialized rooms like the Room of Souls, and all the libraries and media centers and the replications of some of the most popular places to live, for souls to wander through and search for things to download. Simply walking everywhere wasn't feasible.

  She watched as Abbie closed her eyes and focused, clasping her hands together in front of her midsection before she shimmered out of sight and reappeared about a foot away.

  "There you go," Renata said, smiling encouragingly. "You'll be flitting all around here in no time." The words 'Once you get some more energy' hung unsaid in the air. Technically, Abbie was supposed to be on the surface by now, working.

  Though it had been unorthodox, late last night she had allowed Abbie to try on pairs of shoes from different specialties. Once in a while mistakes in assignments had been made, and a different specialty had simply 'clicked'. Renata had hoped to be able to take that conclusion to Odette, tell her that succubus was an awful choice for Abbie but fae had just felt right.

  Instead, nothing had worked.

  The vampires' energy had clearly struck her as ridiculous rather than seductive. She'd looked in the mirror and cackled at her pointed teeth and made "I vant to suck your blood" jokes until she'd acknowledged that it wasn't a good fit and had removed the shoes.

  Fae were intrinsically graceful and quiet, able to sneak around people's houses and play tricks. She had put the shoes on, wandered around the fitting room, and abruptly tripped over one of the stools and sent it skidding into a display of shoes, knocking them everywhere.

  Abbie had flat-out refused to put on the shoes of a reaper. "Did one of them even come for me?" she'd asked. "I don't remember." Renata had told her that yes, one had, but many people didn't remember their encounter at all. "Well, if I was a reaper I'd remember," Abbie had said. "And maybe I could handle some of it but, I mean, there's kids… no. Let me try the next pair."

  And so Renata had given her a pair of shoes meant for a sidhe, and given her a ceremonial dagger. The shoes should have conferred upon her the knowledge of how to use it, how to wield it like it was part of her hand.

  While trying to sheathe it, it had slipped from her fingers, and she'd grabbed it by the blade.

  "Let's try it a couple more times," Renata said now. "Just to make sure you've got the focus down properly. Then we can—" She stopped, her eyes widening as something darkly primal woke in her chest, undeniable, pouring out of her mouth as a ragged scream.

  She heard Abbie's voice saying her name, first as a worried question and then as a panicked yell. She couldn't answer, couldn't stop, couldn't even stay on her feet. She hit her knees, screaming again, the crowds around her disappearing as she shouted her warning cry.

  One of the Lost had escaped.

  This had never happened on her watch. She'd taken on the duty of a guard in exchange for more free time, agreed to use her voice to sound the warning if one of the Lost souls she was linked with got out of their prison. But there hadn't been a successful escape in over a century. At the time she'd agreed to the job, she hadn't seen much danger in it, even if seven banshees had lost their lives over the years because the escaping soul was drawn to their cries, their energy, like a beacon.

  Security had been strengthened, she'd been assured. She would simply act as a last-minute warning system, telling other souls to clear the area so that the Lost one would be drawn to her and her alone, and the reapers could deal with it before anyone was drained or otherwise hurt.

  Her throat hoarse, Renata managed to open her eyes enough between screams to see the bone-white specter bearing down on her.

  On them.

  "Transport," she hissed, before another scream ripped out of her. Even if it took more of her energy than Renata wanted to spend, she needed to go. Every other soul in the vicinity was gone. Abbie had to realize that she should join them.

  The Lost soul crashed into her, and then Renata heard a stream of curses that would have had her blushing in shock were she capable of it.

  It hadn't just been the Lost one who'd collided with her. Abbie was wrestling it back, trying to fight it off.

  She flailed out wildly, trying to separate them, trying to wordlessly warn Abbie away. Then a swarm of reapers closed in, doing what she could not, and as soon as they had the Lost soul in hand her screaming stopped.

  Renata didn't feel like she could get up just yet, so she crawled over to where Abbie lay, her face almost as pale as the Lost soul and her eyes glassy, the tattoos on her arms standing out starkly against her skin. Unable to fully get at her, the Lost soul had drained Abbie instead as they'd fought.

  She clasped Abbie's hand and tried to do an energy transfer, but was too worn out from her shrieking to even begin. Then Abbie was gone, lifted by one of the reapers, and they both Transported .

  Renata knew where they were going—to the staircases, where people came back down after the energy-gathering missions that helped keep their entire realm running. The boxes that gathered the required amount of energy after a trip to the surface could be reversed by someone of a high enough security ranking, could be programmed to let out energy instead of draw it in.

  She just hoped it wouldn't be too late.

  "You all right?" a reaper asked, kneeling next to her. She blinked up at him blearily. Nasim. Died over 400 years ago. One of the head reapers.

  "Take me to her," she managed, her voice nothing but a scratchy whisper.

  He looked concerned, and for a few awful seconds Renata thought he was going to refuse. Then Nasim simply nodded and took her hands, helping her focus and gather enough concentration for a joint Transport.

  Abbie

  "Let me guess," Abbie said when Renata appeared in front of her, looking furious and worried and downright majestic, "that was a really stupid thing to do?"

  "Yes," Renata said, kneeling next to her.

  The creepy robed person who'd scooped her up had taken her to an iridescent box next to an indescribably long staircase, and pressed her hand to it. After several moments, she'd been pulled away and then the setting had changed again, and she was in one of the alcoves, where her rescuer had laid her down on one of the plush chaise lounges. She'd wanted to sit up, wanted to ask what the hell had just happened and where Renata was, but she didn't have the strength for it. Now, seeing the panic on Renata's face, she forced herself to sit up slightly and tried to affect a normal smile.

  "Do not try to move," Renata said. "Do you know what happens to souls who get entirely drained?" She shook her head. "Of course you don't. If you did, you never would've done something so monumentally stupid!

  "Depriving a soul of too much energy is like depriving a mortal of oxygen for too long. In the best case scenario, they're never quite the same again. In the worst case… they just fade."

  "You mean they reincarnate?" Abbie vaguely remembered Renata telling her that was what most souls chose to do in the end.

  Renata shook her head. "Nobody knows. They just—they're gone. You should have Transported."

  "I know, but I hadn't had a good scuffle in a while."

  Renata looked like she wasn't entirely sure whether she wanted to throttle or hug her. Abbie watched her face, seeing the exact second when she remembered her general aversion to
touching and took a small step backwards.

  How could she not have jumped at that thing? Abbie wondered. When the alternative was someone considerate and funny and kindhearted getting hurt?

  Great, Abbie thought. I'm doomed.

  Renata

  She was going to get demoted for this.

  Renata had called in every favor she could (and put herself into more than one person's debt) in order to get a meeting with Odette. The fact that the reapers had been buzzing for three days over Abbie's actions had probably helped.

  She just wasn't sure this would do any good. Given Abbie's reactions to the other shoes, she didn't know what a good alternative to succubus might be. Maybe Abbie truly would be happier as a ghost.

  The door to Odette's office opened, and Renata smiled when she saw Maja step out. The succubus had been around almost as long as she herself had. "Maja! How've you been?"

  "Doing all right. Yourself? I heard about what happened the other day," she said, looking her over.

  "I'm fine," she said.

  "And the newbie? Did she really try to take on one of the Lost?"

  Renata nodded. "She's actually who I'm here to see Odette about. What were you seeing her for?"

  "I—well, I put in for reincarnation."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. It's time."

  Renata almost shuddered at the thought. The idea of losing her self completely, of going back out into the world with no memory of her previous experiences, of the people she'd known… "Are you sure?"

  Maja nodded. "So why are you seeing Odette about her?"

  "Possible reassignment. And actually, just in case Odette won't reassign her, would you do me a favor and be the one to escort her around the surface?"

  "Of course," Maja said. "Just send me a note; let me know what she says."

  "Thanks," Renata said, and then she rapped on the door.

  "Come in!"

  Odette was a tiny, frail woman with brown skin and wide set eyes. She blinked owlishly at Renata as she came in, her expression solemn. "What seems to be the problem, Renata?"