The Reapers: The Hunted Series, #1

By Ali Winters

The balance of life and death must be protected at all costs.

Nivian had never failed to reap a marked soul. That is, until she meets Kain Evers, a Hunter and the only being on earth with the power to destroy her.

When Reapers start to go missing, the Balance is thrown into turmoil, forcing Nivian and Kain to trust each other as they search for answers. Which is no easy task as they fight the feelings growing between them.

As mortal enemies, they were never meant to work together, now they're forced to protect each other if they want any hope of righting the Balance before all is lost.

Unfortunately, to succeed, one of them must die.

Intense, gripping and romantic, readers of Maggie Stiefvater and Bella Forrest will love The Reapers. See why readers are calling it "A gripping tale!"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rising Flame Press
• Release date: May 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781513029979

Ali Winters

Ali Winters is the USA Today bestselling and award winning author of The Hunted series, as well as an amazon and international bestselling author. She was born and raised in the Pacific Northwest where she developed her love of nature, animals, and all things green. For as long as she can remember, she’s been mesmerized by the extraordinary world of books and fantasy. There has never been a time when stories were not begging to be told, either by drawing, photography, or writing. With encouragement from one of her favorite authors, she jumped in head first, to pursue the career that had been calling to her since the day she opened her first book. She has a deep love for coffee, tea, warm blankets, dogs, creating art in any medium she can get her hands on, and family. You can find her on these social platforms. Facebook: www.facebook.com/authoraliwinters Twiter: www.twitter.com/aliwinters_ Instagram: www.instagram.com/authoraliwinters Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/aliwinters Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/authoraliwinters Bookbub: www.bookbub.com/authors/ali-winters

Book preview

NIVIAN

NIVIAN’S HAIR WHIPPED around her face as she stood on a bridge along a dark stretch of highway. The melodic splashing of the river’s current below was the only sound in the still night. Moonlight gleamed upon the frosty earth, illuminating the dancing strands of her platinum blonde hair. A car swerved half a mile up the road as it raced toward the bridge.

Drunk and right on cue, Nivian muttered to herself, rolling her eyes at how cliché her mark was.

She glanced over her shoulder and waved her hand, willing a thick sheet of ice to form on the deck of the bridge. Within seconds, the railing rusted, groaning under the weight of the structure as it became weak and brittle. The vehicle sped faster toward her.

It’s time, Nivian thought, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head to shield her from sight.

The tires screeched as they hit the slick surface of the road, skidding. Slamming on the brakes, the driver lost control.

CRASH!

Plowing into the guardrail, the mark’s car smashed through the rusted metal and fell into the freezing river below with a splash. The car hit the water, and the driver’s head struck the side window with a violent crack, knocking him unconscious. Water quickly invaded the vehicle, forcing out the last of the air.

Pushing her hood back to examine her work, Nivian’s long tresses swirled across her face in the light breeze.

Nivi, you are such a show-off, a familiar voice teased behind her.

Oh, I don’t know, Cami. I think I was off just a smidge. Nivian turned to her friend, grinning as she leaned her hip against the guardrail. Too much splash.

Nivian continued to look down at the river below and knew, without looking, that Camira wore a smirk on her face.

Camira walked up to her and looked over the railing of the bridge to the slowly sinking car. Pockets of air bubbled up to the surface as a grin formed on Nivian’s lips and she pretended to examine her nails, buffing them on her cloak in mock pride.

For as long as she could remember, she had been friends with the Timeless Reaper beside her. Nivian glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. Curly, mid-length hair flowed down her back in soft golden-brown waves, but the warm, umber eyes that usually shone were dark tonight, her smile not reaching them.

Rolling her eyes, Camira shook her head and pulled herself up on the railing to sit, swinging her legs over the edge.

You have a big head. You know that, right? Nivian nodded as the other Reaper’s face turned serious. Anyway, Caspian sent me to let you know he has another job for you. He wants you to go pick it up tonight.

Another one?

Camira averted her eyes. Yeah, Caspian has been piling them on lately.

It seems to be that season. Nivian shrugged dismissively. I’d better get to work.

Nivian leaped over the edge of the bridge, her feet landing with a soft tap on the surface of the water. She reached down, pulled the soul of the driver up by the collar of his shirt, and stood him up next to her on top of the water. Taking the driver’s hand, palm up in hers, she waved her other hand over his. As she pinched the air, she pulled and lifted upward, exposing his life thread. The mark’s wide eyes stared, unblinking and hypnotized by the glowing string of light. Nivian reached behind her and grabbed the scythe strapped to her back, and with a slow, deliberate swing of the blade, Nivian sliced the human’s life thread. The light formed into a ball and hovered between them. She pulled out a small pocket watch and guided the life energy down to its face, where it sunk into the device and disappeared. Snapping the watch closed, she returned it to her pocket.

You should know better than to drink and drive. You could’ve seriously hurt someone.

Her mark gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Yes, you really are dead, she confirmed, knowing his unspoken question. She gave him an apathetic look and turned away.

Are you … the devil? he managed to sputter.

No, of course not. I am just the natural order of things, she said, looking back over her shoulder to catch his fearful gaze. Wait here. Your spirit counselor will be here soon to guide you to your afterlife. I have other jobs tonight. She spun on her heel, pulling her hood back up over her head, and vanished into the night.

Nivian transported to just outside the gates of the Graceful Reaping Inc. Management Headquarters, also known as G.R.I.M. Headquarters. Its formidable, single tower shot up over twenty-six stories high and ended in a three-sided spire. The main door stood tall at well over fifteen feet, chiseled out of obsidian glass, its facets gleaming. Windows lined the center of the building’s front until they reached the top floor, where a single room with three larger, arched windows looked out over Mophar. Tall, golden, gypsum crystals lined the sides of the dark, gothic building, reflecting the early morning light.

G.R.I.M. Headquarters sat on the edge of the precipice of Edrathli, surrounding all of Mophar. The precipice had depths as infinite as time itself, but it was impossible to know by looking at it. A thick layer of silver fog glittered, as though made from millions of crushed diamonds. The mists filled the vast depths, overflowing and gently sliding over the edge like waves of the ocean, blurring the cliff’s end.

Behind her stood the thick Forest of Ari with its dark purple trees covered in red mosses that glowed with a soft, pale bioluminescence. The sky was a perpetual morning, with lavender clouds scattered across, colored with the burning reds and oranges of a sunrise just seconds before the first rays of day broke the horizon line.

Nivian walked through the entry into the center of operations. The black and silver gates were adorned with the symbol of the reapers; a raven in flight surrounded by an unbroken circle. The ancient arches were one of her favorite features, causing goosebumps to travel up her arms as she walked under them.

Columns seventeen feet high, with flying arches made of flawless volcanic stone, lined the path leading to the massive tower. Each column had intricate carvings, telling the history of the Reapers. Nivian walked down the long corridor to the Great Hall along floors of solid black marble, shining perfectly as they reflected the warm light. It took her breath away and she loved to take her time, each moment precious as she walked through the corridor. She admired the carvings, telling the history of how, at the dawn of time, the fates created the Tome of Fate, brought forth the Reapers, and gave them their scythes.

Nivian scaled the tall flight of stairs to Caspian’s office before knocking on the door.

Come in, a deep voice called from the other side.

Pushing open the heavy door, Nivian stepped inside. Caspian sat behind a massive desk, the Tome of Fate lying open before him. The words swirled, forming on the pages in front of him. Closing the book, he glanced up as she stepped into the room.

Long black hair pulled neatly back into a ponytail tied at the base of his neck, he smiled warmly upon seeing her face. Nivian. His black eyes sparkled, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

My Lord, she said, bowing deeply on one knee. I am ready for my next assignment.

Caspian stood from his chair and walked around the desk, smiling as he lifted her up. Tilting her chin with his knuckle, he forced her to meet his black as night gaze.

Nivi, I’ve told you a thousand times, there is no need to be so formal with me.

Yes, Caspian. Nivian lowered her eyes and stepped back, suddenly feeling nervous.

The corner of his mouth lifted as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

Here is my last mark, she said, retrieving the small watch out of her pocket and holding it up to Caspian as she kept her gaze locked firmly on the ground. After all this time, she had yet to conquer her timid nature when he teased.

Abruptly, he took a step back and rounded his desk.

Excellent work, Nivian, as always. Opening the Tome again, he scanned the words, tracing a finger down the page. After finding the passage he needed, he wrote a name down on a small slip of paper and held it out to her. Here is your next assignment. I think one week’s time should be sufficient.

She reached out to take the slip of paper, pausing when he held on.

Let me know when it has been completed, he added softly, leaning in close.

Nivian’s eyes grew wide as she finally lifted her gaze to meet his. They pulled at her with the gravity of a black hole. Mesmerized, she felt herself fall into them, slowly drawn into their dark depths.

Ooooh, Caspiaaaan! Camira sang as she bounded into the room, stopping short at the sight of them standing so close. The surprised expression on her face told Nivian that she thought more was going on than the reality of it.

Caspian let go of the paper and hastily drew his hand away. Nivian jerked back, his spell over her broken as she stepped from him and leaned against the bookcase embedded into the wall. Sucking in a few slow, deep breaths, she tried to shake the unnerving feeling of still being too close. It was oddly familiar in a way, which struck her as unusual since they were almost never so close.

Camira gaped openly at her, filling Nivian with a guilt she didn’t understand. She turned away, hiding her face from her friend’s questioning gaze.

Taking a step back, Caspian casually leaned against his desk with arms crossed.

What can I do for you tonight, Camira? His tone was flat, civil, and anything but warm. His question brought Camira’s eyes to his face, abandoning Nivian’s form.

While they talked, Nivian turned her back, pretending to study the titles on the bookcase, doing anything to become invisible and diminish the awkwardness that now filled the office.

My mark. She handed over the watch proudly, her fingers lingering over his. I was able to finish early.

Thank you, Camira. I will have your next assignment ready for you in a few days’ time. He dismissed her.

So intent on trying to ignore the tension in the room, Nivian missed the hurt look on Camira’s face as she whipped her head around and stormed out of the room.

Caspian stepped close to Nivian once more, lifting his hand in a familiar gesture as he absent-mindedly played with a lock of her hair.

Let me know when you finish with this mark, he reminded her, taking a step back and moving to sit behind his desk once more. Nivian nodded and turned to leave.

And, Nivian? he added.

Yes, Caspian? She bit her lip and looked back.

"This mark has a presence about her. Watch carefully, and please come to me if you need… anything." His mouth held a hint of a smile, but the tension around his eyes betrayed the outward lighthearted manner that he was attempting to portray.

I will, my Lor— He raised an eyebrow, stopping her. Caspian, she corrected and returned his smile timidly as she turned to leave.

Glancing back, she saw him watching her, amusement flickering in his eyes. He’d always had a relaxed and casual air in her presence.

Mixed emotions surged through her. She didn’t mind when he teased her in the friendly, almost affectionate way he did, though Nivian usually walked away feeling as though she’d missed something important.

Appearing in the alleyway next to her apartment building, Nivian threw back her hood and ran her hands through her hair. Her silver locks darkened to a rich auburn with golden caramel highlights as the length shortened from its natural waist-length to soft waves that fell to the middle of her back. Ice blue eyes shifted to a rich, chocolate brown.

Nivian grasped the scythe strapped to her back and watched it shrink from its six-foot length to the size of a pen in her hand. Removing her cloak, she draped it over one arm, revealing dark, fitted jeans and a black tank top—her usual reaping attire. Nivian shoved the scythe into her back pocket and fished for the key to her apartment.

What a long day, she muttered, stretching her arms over her head and yawning as she trudged up the steps to the main entrance. Nivian punched in the code to the lobby door and jogged up the stairs to her small apartment on the top floor.

Nothing sounded better to her than taking a nice, long shower and then crawling into bed. Her days had slowly grown longer, with the amount of reapings coming back to back, when in the past they had always been given at a steady pace. Before, there had been days between assignments, allowing her time to recoup and replenish her reserves. Cutting a life thread always took energy, temporarily lowering her power.

Recently, Caspian had assigned an increasing number of marks more frequently. It seemed now as though every time she turned around, she had another assignment. It was odd how they picked up in frequency. The extra workload put more strain on her powers, making her weary.

Thinking back, Caspian had acted differently when she’d dropped the watch off. It was difficult to pinpoint precisely what had changed in his demeanor, but when he smiled, there was a tension at the corners of his eyes. The routine they had, with his playful attitude and her shy response to him, was normal, but it was clear this time that something bothered him. She could always tell when something was stirring underneath the surface.

Nivian pursed her lips with doubt. No, if something had changed, others would have noticed—Silas would have noticed as well. Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought. Exhaustion had set in, and she was reading too much into a simple facial expression.

Taking her assignment out and unfolding it, she read the slip of paper, wrinkling her forehead with confusion. The mark didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary, just a ‘plain Jane’ busybody lawyer. It should be easy enough, only requiring a few days rather than the standard week she normally took to create a setup. She didn’t understand why Caspian had warned her about it.

Crumpling the slip into a tight ball with both hands, Nivian concentrated. The energy built up within her, flowing through every vein like a wave of electricity. Her powers compressed, merging with her assignment’s energy signature and binding them together. The mark’s fate was sealed. When she opened her hands, a small pocket watch sat ticking quietly where the note with her mark’s name had once lain.

Nivian set it down on the small table in the corner next to her bed. She would worry about her mark in the morning. Her fingers brushed over the top of the watch. A strange energy, barely perceptible, but there none-the-less, slithered up her arm and down her spine. She frowned remembering Caspian’s earlier warning.

Her eyes narrowed. A strange presence about this mark, indeed.

NIVIAN

NIVIAN STOOD IN the middle of the busy intersection, her cloak whipping around her legs as cars zoomed past, unaware of her presence. Removing her hood, she pulled out the pocket watch and opened it. Time ticked down, counting the final moments until the mark would reach her destination. The hands of the timepiece hesitated in their movement, spinning full circle once in each direction before resuming their usual ticking.

That’s odd, Nivian mumbled, her brows drawing together. She shrugged it off, once again focusing on her assignment. With a wave of her hand, a thin layer of black ice formed in patches on the corner of the street in front of a small café. It climbed onto the curb, covering the corner and spreading in a perfectly orchestrated pattern that only the mark would be drawn to.

The mark: Cassandra Hatfield.

She turned the corner and walked into view, speaking loudly into her cell phone and rudely shouldering past groups of people. Ash blonde hair pulled back into a knot let her large dark eyes stand out, sparkling with determination and purpose. From the way the mark pushed people out of her way, it was clear to Nivian that the mortal had a high sense of self-importance—an utterly ridiculous notion for anyone to have, let alone a human. All life was equal. All life was fleeting. No one soul held more importance than any other.

Unknowingly, the woman hurried closer to the intersection where her Reaper stood.

KAIN

Kain Evers sat at a two-person table outside the same cozy café he stopped by every morning before work to watch the city pass by in the morning rush. A ritual of his that he kept every day. It was a reminder to stop and take the time to enjoy the little moments in life. Even in a city so large, it felt too easy to be alone.

Lifting his cup, he took a sip of coffee as the throngs of people raced forward with their heads down, trying to get to work a few seconds faster than the person next to them. Kain ran his hand through his hair and pushed the chestnut-colored strands out of his eyes, his gaze caught on a solitary figure standing in the middle of the busy intersection.

As if in a daze, he lowered his drink back onto the rounded table. The girl had long, silvery hair and wore a black cloak that whipped around her legs in the chilly morning wind. There was something out of the ordinary about her—besides just her outfit. He frowned, his features clouding over in confusion.

Why is she standing in the middle of an intersection, and why isn’t anyone stopping for her?

Slowly, he stood and began making his way through the crowd, his eyes firmly locked on her. Reaching the curb, Kain opened his mouth to call out to her, stopping short as she raised her hand and waved at the lights. Mesmerized by her actions and his own curiosity, his eyes followed her movements, watching as the signal changed from green, to yellow, and then to red in rapid succession.

His eyes darted back to her face, connecting with her icy blue ones, and for a brief moment, time slowed down. The girl’s expression went from calm and stoic to confusion. Something in her posture changed. He couldn’t be sure what it was, but he felt it when she narrowed her eyes as he continued to hold her gaze.

A large bus sped toward the intersection with no indication of slowing, but he still couldn’t look away. Kain was held hostage by her stare. A blonde woman yelling into her phone passed in front of him, breaking the strange girl’s hold and bringing his attention back to his surroundings.

The woman stepped into the street without looking, slipping on a frozen patch that covered the curb. Her ankle twisted, and she cried out in pain as her body lurched forward and she tried in vain to take her weight off the injured foot and regain balance in her sharp stilettos.

Without thinking Kain reached out, jerking the woman back onto the sidewalk. The awkwardness of the movement ripped her from his grasp, and she landed hard on the concrete just as the bus zoomed by, splashing up mud.

Are you kidding me? The blonde threw her hands up and looked down at her expensive suit, coffee dripping down her front. Picking up the grime-covered phone with her thumb and index finger, she huffed in disgust.

Are you all right? Kain knelt down and checked her over. Picking up her leg, he carefully examined her swollen ankle.

Ouch! She scrunched up her face in annoyance, finally acknowledging his presence.

It doesn’t appear to be broken, just sprained. Can you try to flex it? he asked, gingerly setting her foot down.

Can you freaking bite me? Now I’m going to be late for my meeting with a client, she snapped and then cringed at the harshness of her words.

Kain raised his eyebrows, taken aback by the sharp reply.

I’m sorry, it just hurts, she added. She pointed her toe, then grimaced in pain, letting out a hiss.

You would’ve been killed if that bus had hit you. Kain pointed up the street at the bus disappearing around the corner.

Oh my God! Her mouth dropped open as the realization that her life had almost ended dawned on her. You saved my life. You’re an angel! The light was green! It couldn’t have changed so fast.

Try to stand. Where do you work? I’ll help you walk there. Kain held out his hand to her. My name is Kain.

Cassandra. She slipped her hand into his.

Kain placed his other hand on her elbow and pulled her up, placing her arm around his shoulders for support. She hopped, keeping her injured leg bent and leaning on him for balance.

Turning back toward the intersection, Kain glanced back at the strange figure dressed in a black cloak. Pale eyes glared at him. Her arms were tight at her sides with clenched fists. She looked so angry, but he didn’t understand why. Pausing, Kain opened his mouth to call out, but a truck sped by, blocking his view. When it passed, she was gone. Confused, he looked up and down the street, but no trace of the girl remained.

How… Kain’s voice trailed off. He dismissed any insane notion that tried to cross his mind. Facing Cassandra, he continued walking with her.

Where do you work? he asked.

NIVIAN

Grinding her teeth, Nivian’s fists tightened, her nails biting into the skin of her palms.

She had failed.

She never failed.

Her mark lived. It should have been impossible. The shock kept her mind from fully understanding the possible consequences caused by the catastrophe of an assignment. Confusion, annoyance, disbelief, embarrassment, and injured pride swirled through her like a tornado.

That mortal had looked directly at her.

How could he possibly have seen me?

She replayed the scene over and over. It had been a standard reaping… except for his presence.

The living couldn’t see a Reaper who didn’t want to be seen. Even if it hadn’t been against protocol, it wasn’t the way she worked. Nothing and no one had ever been able to interfere with her work before—no one would even try. Humans were never aware of a Reaper’s presence, or the events happening, until it was too late to interfere. Even then, it was only the mark who perceived them.

Silently fuming, she shot daggers with her eyes at the mortal who had ruined her mark.

In recent times, humans had been able to postpone the slow deaths caused by the Timeless Reapers through medical advances, but nothing could stop a Silencer. They could never stop her.

Yet, this one insignificant human had. It shouldn’t have

happened. Nivian knew she needed to have a talk with Caspian. Saying this mark had a presence was an understatement.

Huffing in exasperation, she yanked her hood over her head and vanished, teleporting to the entrance of the G.R.I.M. Headquarters.

Appearing outside the massive gates, Nivian forced herself not to run. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself and the failure written all over her face.

How humiliating!

Her cheeks burned as she hurried through the Great Hall, passing other Reapers who milled about, sparing her a curious glance now and then. Nivian kept her head down as she jogged up the stairs to the top floor, stopping just outside the large doors of Caspian’s office to take a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves and collect herself. It didn’t work.

Nivian pushed open the black glass doors and stepped through, eager to figure out what had happened. She wanted answers to the questions burning in her mind.

Caspian stood, leaning against the large desk. If she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn that he’d been expecting her. He casually studied the Tome of Fate for the next Reaper’s assignment. It was a large book, bound in dark brown leather with intricate designs stamped into the side of the binding, an eye set in the center of the cover. Pages made of a delicate and shining thin paper, almost translucent, filled the space between the binding.

Legend said it had been created by two of the three Fates: Clotho and Lachesis. Clotho weaved the book, and Lachesis placed the words into its pages, where they lived, forming the answers of the chosen reader’s questions. It was the third Fate, Atropos, who had created the scythe for the Reapers, giving them the power they possessed over death. Caspian could see everything within the pages of the book: who was to be marked and when.

Nivian, I am glad you are here, Caspian said, glancing up from the large book and pausing as he made eye contact. What’s wrong? You look worried, Nivi.

Caspian, he saw me! Nivian said, her voice strained, coming out in a higher pitch than normal and betraying the panic that threatened to consume her. She took another shaking breath to steady her emotions, but it didn’t work. The anxiety was still there, refusing to fade.

He tilted his head to the side, a curious movement. Closing the book, Caspian set it down and walked over to stand in front of her, studying her face for a long moment. Unsure what he could possibly be looking for, she parted her lips to ask. He placed an arm around her shoulders before she managed to utter a single word and led her to the chair in front of his desk, motioning for her to have a seat.

A mark will often see you as you reap them, Nivian. You know that, he said, leaning against the edge of the desk again with crossed arms.

Not my mark––an unmarked human, she clarified.

His eyebrows shot up. That had got his attention.

"A mortal interfered with my reaping. He looked at me. Twice. No unmarked human has ever seen me in this form before! Nivian threw her hands up in disbelief. I failed, Caspian. I failed."

No one can stop a Silencer. Caspian’s voice was flat, his expression holding no hint of humor.

She couldn’t blame him for his doubt. After all, it had happened to her and she was still wasn’t sure she believed it. He looked me in the eyes. There was no one else he could have possibly been looking at. How is that possible, my Lord?

Caspian, he said, absentmindedly correcting her. Resting his chin in his hand, he studied her face with an emotionless expression. I see. He nodded, causing a few strands of his coal black hair to fall unnoticed over his eye.

Is this what you meant when you told me she had a presence? Nivian asked when he didn’t say anything.

I knew she had a presence around her; however, I had been unable to find the source of it. Based on what you’ve told me, I have a suspicion of what the cause could be… yet it does not seem possible. Caspian trailed off, appearing to be talking more to himself than to her. His gaze rested, unfocused, on the floor as his eyes glossed over.

Caspian, please tell me what happened. I don’t understand any of this.

Nivian stood up from the chair, crossing the short space between them until they were only a few inches apart. She placed her hand on his arm, bringing his full attention back to her.

He blinked and lifted his chin to meet her gaze, giving her a half-hearted smile.

No need to worry, Nivian. It is all right for the time being. The occasional failure is understandable. You should go home and try again tomorrow. Caspian took her hand in his and gave it a soft pat as he led her to the door.

Her jaw dropped. A mortal seeing a Reaper didn’t "just happen." Nivian looked up at him, her eyebrows pulled together. Caspian’s mouth was drawn into a tight line as he looked forward, already deep in thought.

Caspian? Nivian whispered, as she clenched her hands at her sides. She hadn’t learned anything.

Nivian, I will see you soon. His eyes flashed, silencing any further discussion.

Her head spun from his quick dismissal as she allowed him to lead her out of the room. Without so much as a goodbye, he softly closed the doors. Nivian tossed a confused look over her shoulder at the barrier between them, then shrugged, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t ready to tell her anything for the time being.

Continuing down through the Headquarters, she was still confused about what had just happened. He had never dismissed her so abruptly before, but going back in there wouldn’t do her any good. It was clear he was hiding something.

As soon as she was outside the front gates of G.R.I.M. Headquarters, she drew her hood over her head and vanished, teleporting to the foyer of the studio apartment she called home.

The apartment was small, holding little more than her bed and a few odd pieces of furniture, but it was functional for what she wanted it to be.

Other than the hook near the door, the walls were bare. The kitchen was to the left of the entryway, with a square island a few feet wide surrounded by three mismatched bar stools in the center of the room. A coffee pot and three mugs sat on the counter.

A tall partition separated the kitchen from the living space that doubled as her bedroom. Against the wall was an antique chair sitting next to a love seat that sat off center, creating some semblance of a room. It was a simple setup by human standards, but it was enough for her. In fact, she didn’t need any of it, but the mystery of human existence, or what she assumed it was, enthralled her. She couldn’t help but want a minuscule piece of