Gina Grant - Esprit de Corpse

“I got it,” I told them. “When they get to the part where the judge is going to rule, Conrad’s going to pop out of Shannon’s body and into Judge Wilson. He’ll rule there’s not enough evidence for a trial and dive back into Shannon’s vacant body. It’ll probably look like Shannon fainted under the extreme stress. Then when she reopens her eyes, it’ll be to the good news that the trial isn’t going forward.”

Dante rubbed his chin. Back home in Hell, he needed to shave every day. But on the Coil, his five-o’clock shadow hadn’t darkened at all. I loved the stubbly look—and feel. I sighed, wishing we weren’t on uncertain terms, but he’d started it.

Hadn’t he?

“We must stop him from possessing the judge.”

“What? No, Dante. See, we want the judge to rule in Shannon’s favor. Conrad needs to be free for when Shannon gets her body back.”

Dante shook his head, making sad eyes at me. I could feel my resolve to be mad at him melting. If only he wasn’t disagreeing with me . . . again.

“No. If the judge is kicked from her body, then she won’t be able to return, as you were not. Even when it is vacant again. We would only end up with another displaced soul on our hands. Colin Schotz would be furious.”

I opened my mouth to argue, getting as far as, “But . . .” before halting. Dante had gotten in a heap of trouble for my untimely displacement. This was his last chance to settle the Conrad issue to Hell’s satisfaction. We had to get Shannon back into her body without Conrad displacing anyone else.

“So how do we stop him?” I asked, feeling defeated and I hadn’t even done anything.

“I will speak to him.”

“Oh, now you’ll speak to him. But how do you get some alone-time with a guy saddled with a permanent and scary roommate?”

“We’ll wait until his cellmate is asleep,” Dante answered.

Hammerhead concluded his business with Conrad and left. Theresa escorted Conrad back to his cell bearing his clean suit for tomorrow. Shift changed and the friendly guard left, promising to be there bright and early to escort them back to court. Maddy glared and lay back on her two pillows.

Conrad’s head rested on the hard mattress. He clutched his bag of basics to his chest. Maddy had already confiscated his soap, deodorant and hair care products. She’d left him the clothing only because she was twice Shannon’s size. “S’fugly as hell, anyways,” the strangler had declared, preferring her orange jumpsuit to Shannon’s too-small designer business wardrobe.

Just before dawn, Dante stepped through the cell bars and approached Conrad’s bunk. “Now watch closely, Kirsty,” he called back over his shoulder. “We can practice afterwards.”

“Just focus,” I said, but made a point of watching. If I’d been able to move pencil and paper, I would have taken notes.

Dante knelt by the bunk, his outline growing fuzzy then solidifying again. A haze of dim light glimmered around him. From him actually. He was Hell’s own night-light.

He touched Conrad’s arm gently. “Conrad. Wake up. We need to speak with you. Conrad.”

But Conrad slept on. The deep sleep of a man with a plan. Dante nudged him again a little harder.

“Wha—What?” Conrad yelled.

Maddy cursed at him from above, threatening to beat him bloody.

“It’s me, Conrad. Dante Alighieri. Your Reaper. Do you remember?”

I might have snickered at that. He sounded too much like a waiter: Hi, I’m Dante and I’ll be your Reaper for this evening.

Conrad took a moment to surface, then his eyes grew wide enough to show the whites even in the darkened cell. He shoved himself back into the corner of the bunk, yanking the covers up over his breasts. “I—You—Yes, I remember. What do you want?” He’d gone from scared to surly in zero-point-five seconds. A new land peeved record.

“We are here to ask you one more time to relinquish Shannon Iver’s body. It is not yours to possess.”

“And if I do? What’s in it for me?” That had always been Conrad’s MO. Maybe we should try bribing him. But what did we have to offer that he wasn’t already stealing for himself?

“If you do, then your daughter will return to her life and be able to live out her days as intended. You will accompany Kirsty and me back to Hell and serve the . . .” He trailed off, no doubt realizing there really wasn’t much incentive in his statement. “And she’ll get to live her life, maybe produce grandchildren. Probably,” he finished lamely.

“Dante,” I hissed before remembering Conrad couldn’t hear me. In normal tones, I added, “Tell him he can go free if he gives her back her body.”

“But that’s not true.”

“Doesn’t matter. Just tell him.”

“I cannot do that. It wouldn’t be right.”

“All that prick has ever done is lie. It would be karmic justice.” I mentally played back what I’d just said and felt sick. I sounded just like Conrad, twisting the truth to suit my needs.

“Who’re you talking to?” Conrad demanded. He tossed the covers away and sat up.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” floated down from the top bunk.

“Conrad, speak softly, please,” Dante whispered, although I’m pretty sure only Conrad could hear him. But if Dante whispered, then Conrad would follow his lead. Good thinking.

I recalled that day in the men’s room when he and Conrad had been arguing and I’d figured Conrad was talking on his Bluetooth earpiece because Dante had been visible and audible only to Conrad.

Conrad, however, knew the true situation. “Who’s with you, Reaper?”

“You cannot see her, but Kirsty is here with me.”

Of course Conrad peered all around the darkened cell. Why do people always look when you tell them not to?

“Kirsty is encouraging me to make promises to you that I cannot keep. I will not lie to you.”

“So, I’m supposed to give up Shannon’s body, give up being CEO of the company I built from the ground up? Abandon all those clients and employees who need me and let the company go bankrupt? Plus I get to go back to jail in Hell? I’d rather rot in here.” Conrad relaxed back on the bunk, always so sure he was right. I used to admire that confidence, but now I wanted to punch that smug grin off his face. That would make me a grin Reaper.

“We have surmised your plans, Conrad Iver. We know you intend to possess the judge in order to rule in your own favor.”

“Yeah, so?”

“You cannot do that.”

“And you’re going to stop me how?”

Ancient springs squealed from the upper bunk. “Don’t make me come down there, bitch.”

“How?” Conrad repeated, voice low.

“I cannot stop you, but you must know that once you leave this body you can never possess it again.”

Conrad shot to his feet, satin bra and panties glowing pinkish in the dim lighting. “What? You’re lying.”

Dante shook he head slowly side to side. “No, I am not. Why would I? We, too, want the judge to rule in Shannon’s favor. But you must believe me. If you leave this body, it will fall into a coma as Kirsty’s did and neither of you will be able to have it.”

“But you just said I should give it back to her. What’s the difference? She won’t be able to get back into it then, either.”

Dante opened his mouth, but we all saw the flaw in his logic. If I’d failed in all my efforts to get back into my body, why would Shannon fare any differently, whether Conrad gave it up voluntarily or not?

Shannon began to sniffle again. I put my arm around her and held her close, realizing this was exactly what Dante had done earlier. But now wasn’t the time to admit my jealousy might be unfounded and I should probably apologize. I had an important conversation I needed to eavesdrop on.