Katie's Hellion

The living room started to spin and she sat, forcing herself to breathe deeply.

"We can talk."

The stoic offer made laughter bubble within her.

"I don't want to talk! I want my life back!"

"This is your life."

"Absolutely not! I'm not psychotic, I didn't have amnesia yesterday, I've never had a son! I don't care what anyone says, not Dr. Williams, not my sister, not you!"

"You weren't supposed to remember anything before Toby appeared in your life," he said.

"What're you talking about?"

He looked at her, a penetrating stare that made her again regret drawing his attention. She couldn't read his face. He rose and, with methodical patience, swirled the trench around him, placed the sword on the inside with an array of other weaponry, and then stalked to the door.

All it took was a hissy fit. The door closed behind him. She sagged into the depths of her chair.

"Mama, do I have to go to school today?" Toby called.

She ground her teeth, on the verge of throwing her cup at the wall before her.

* * *

"It's not working."

The man in the white lab coat, Ully, jerked from his hunched position over a keyboard, and fear flashed in his eyes. The unease passed quickly as he saw which death dealer stood before him.

"Of course it is," he said, twisting in the chair to face him.

Gabriel leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his arms in physical disagreement. He rarely spoke, and when he did, people rarely failed to take his words seriously. As the oldest and most revered of the death dealers, only the damned millennial generation failed to flinch when he spoke.

"Okay, so maybe it isn't," Ully said quickly. "You're sure?"

Gabriel said nothing but pinned him with a glare that had killed a few men outright.

"Okay, fine."

The brunet scientist leaned forward to hit the intercom button.

"Kris, death dude's here. We need to talk!" he called cheerfully, then spun and started toward the conference room at the end of a lab that stretched the size of a football field.

Gabriel followed, ignoring the rows of delicate glassware, Bunsen burners, machines, and other science toys that employed the two dozen immortal scientists. The lighting was harsh in the lab; he didn't remove his sunglasses until they'd entered the romantically lit conference room. The brunet flipped the overhead lights on, and Gabriel flipped them off.

The conference room was silent, the air purified, the lighting perfect. Gabriel sat opposite the door while Ully flung himself into a cushy chair.