Page 63 of (Mostly) Human Resources

Alexys was jealous of Nic’s easy confidence. He was completely sure of himself, his every action, and his every word. While she was worried her emails possessed too much punctuation, Nic could give a lecture on the history of Bigfoot in front of the entire company without breaking a sweat, and Alexys burned with envy every time she saw his confidence.

But the envy was overshadowed this time. Nic had gotten this look in his eye, a flare of passion, and the look intrigued her. Like a spark that turned his eyes from gray to silver, lit with excitement and boundless information.

“Alright then, Great God of Knowledge. How do we kill it?”

Nic blanched, and Alexys wanted to laugh at the way his eyes grew impossibly wide behind his glasses as he stared at her. “You can’t just kill it! It’s a singular, ancient being of unknown origins.”

“What are you, the Indiana Jones of creature lovers? We’ll kill it, stuff it, and stick it in the Archives if that makes you feel better.”

“Oh, go on then, J. T. Cross.” He waved a hand in her direction, his smile wide and mocking. “How do you propose we kill a monster whose mere description is a matter of speculation.”

“Dyre,” Alexys gasped, a hand pressed to her chest. “How dare you take the savior’s name in vain!” Nic pressed his lips together into a thin line. His brow creased in mock-disappointment, but she could see the smile pulling at his lips. “If the great Reaper Joseph Theodore Cross were here, he would have found Elliot within the first hour of arriving!”

“In the pouring rain,” Nic added, a smile finally breaking free.

“Without directions.”

“Without a compass,” they said in unison.

Alexys was grinning at him as she declared, “And it’d be damn faster than any Reaper alive!” They dissolved into laughter, and she had to admire the deep, contagious sound of Nic’s laugh. She’d never seen him so relaxed before, or noticed the way his eyes lit up and crinkled when he smiled. The sight made something warm stir in her chest.

When their laughter subsided, Nic said, “It’s such a shame he retired. Cross was such a legend.”

“My favorite stories growing up were the ones my dad told me about the great J. T. Cross.” Alexys’s smile grew fond andreminiscent. “I know half of them couldn’t be true, but they were amazing nonetheless.”

Nic’s mouth parted in surprise, and she realized he didn’t know who her dad was. “Your father knew him?”

It dawned on her then how little they really knew about each other. Nic had no idea about her dad. The man she had idolized so much growing up, whose footsteps she was now desperately trying (and failing spectacularly) to follow in. Nic didn’t even know her dad was the reason she worked at Entity, but she didn’t know why Nic worked for them either. She’d never thought to ask. In fact, she realized she knew absolutely nothing about Nic—had never bothered to learn anything about him. She couldn’t believe it, but it actually made her feel like an asshole.

“Keane?” Nic looked confused. His eyes searched her face like he was trying to piece together a complex puzzle.

Alexys made an effort to soften her expression into an easy smile. “Yeah, my dad was a Warden.”

He tensed, and an all-too-familiar look of pity consumed his face. “Was?”

“He died in the field.” It’d been so long since they’d lost him, but her heart still ached every time she said it out loud. “When I was eleven. A Wampus Cat got him.”

Nic shook his head. “I’m so sorry, truly, I had no idea.”

Alexys shrugged off the shadow of grief and tried to keep her tone light. “He always told me the best stories about Reapers. J. T. Cross was one of my favorites. Do you know the one about that time he wrestled a Bigfoot?”

Nic’s eyes crinkled as he grinned. He chuckled softly. “There’s absolutely no chance that one is real.”

“I wish it was though!” Alexys beamed at the mental image of J. T. Cross, a retired Reaper in his fifties, successfully mud-wrestling a Bigfoot into submission. “It’d be even better if there were pictures. Can you imagine? They would have been priceless for recruiting.”

“Like those old-time war posters?” Nic furrowed his brows as low as they could go, pointed at her, and in a stern voice said, “We wantyouto fight Bigfoot.”

Alexys immediately thought of the old Smokey Bear ads and chimed in, “Onlyyoucan mud-wrestle Bigfoot.”

When he laughed deeply, Nic threw his head back and clutched a hand to his chest. For a moment, Alexys was able to forget about Elliot, the Hollow Walker and her father. Nic’s laugh was infectious, and the way it lit up his entire face warmed her bones. They went back and forth, trading famous taglines until they could barely breathe from their laughter.

Nic finally got control of himself, and his smile took on an ironic tilt. “It’s a shame we won’t have a Reaper swoop in to save the day.” He exhaled a deep breath. “Unfortunately, without one, I’m afraid we’ll need a better plan than simply killing the Hollow Walker. It’ll kill us before we even realize it’s there.”

Alexys’s warmth died off completely. Her mouth opened and shut several times, embarrassment and anxiety mixing uncomfortably in her chest as their reality came crashing back down around her. Here they were, sat in a cave, soaking wet, on what could prove to be a fatal goose chase. And no matter how hard they worked to make light of the situation, the truth was that Alexys had made one mistake after another. But so had Nic. And she’d nearly forgotten how angry she was with him too, in addition to being angry with herself.

“Do you always have to ruin a good mood so spectacularly?” Alexys demanded. “Just when I start to think you’re half decent.”

“That’s always a mistake. I’m rarely decent, but always correct,” Nic said wryly.