CHAPTER ONE

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Desperation looks like a decomposing corpse. It's a widow's sorrowful tear as she sits with the man she loved. It was the bitter taste of losing something important to you. The truly desperate was a sight to behold. What they are willing to do in order to get that what the sought is limitless.

The liquid emotion streaming down the widow's cheeks didn't move me. The shake of her shoulders and the bow of her head didn't stir my soul. It was out of respect for the dead that I stood silently in the doorway. I patiently waited for her to finish as she threw herself over the body sobbing harder.

My steps lead me deeper into the room. Drawing closer to the woman and the object of her grief. On a blood-stained table the body of a mid-aged man laid. He was nude except for a white cloth that covered his privates. I could tell that when he was alive he had been a handsome man. Death left no beautiful corpses.

If life didn't give a shit if you were old, young, rich, or poor death gave even less of a fuck. It was mercilessly. Most found the harsh judgment unfair, the death of those we loved was always untimely. We all wanted another day, an hour, a minute with the people we held dear.

Reaching forward my hand rested on the widow's shoulder. She turned around looking at me as if she was shocked that I was standing behind her. Rubbing at her eyes I took a step back to give her space.

Green eyes were rimmed red and puffy. Black lines streaked down red cheeks as her makeup ran. The expensive clothes she wore was soaked in the blood of her lover. How long has she stayed with the body? How many times has she tossed herself on top of him and mourned? Was I the first call she made? Had to be if the body was still in her home.

Calling the Authority was her business. Her house was big, her clothes were dirty but expensive. That gave me enough hint that she was rich enough to afford my fee. Pulling tissues from a box that sat close to her the widow cleaned her face. She smoothed her hand down the first of her dress trying to pull herself together now that she had a guest.

She moved to the side allowing me to come closer to the corpse. Five deep gashes was on his chest. None was aimed at his heart or lungs. He probably bled to death. In this room it seemed. The stank of decay didn't hide the iron scent of blood. What was her husband into? Had she come home to find him this way? From the level of decay, he had been dead for at least four days. It was only a day ago when the widow reached out and contacted me.

My eyes shifted to her, I could feel the magic inside of her. Nowadays everyone had magic. The different stages and categories were important to run this supposed Utopia that we lived in. Instead of using her magic as a healer type she lowered the temperature in the room in the hope it would slow the decay. Griefing people were stupid.

"Do you have my asking price?" I asked the widow. If she wanted my service she would pay my fee. I didn't come cheap but over the phone she told me she would pay anything I asked. My special talents were worth every credit.

The woman looked at me. The look on her face made me think she was in a stupor. I would forgive it since she looked as if she hasn't slept in the last four days. I would use small words, talk slowly so she could keep up with me. Maybe she was just in shock that I had come so soon. My last job finished sooner than I had originally thought it would.

Of course, I was going to come to her as soon as I could. Money talks and someone willing to pay triple my normal fee talked the loudest. If she was starting to have second thoughts she was wasting both of our time. The longer she waited to speak the more the body decayed. After a while, not even my skills would be good.

"Nakos?" She spoke my name unsure. I only nodded my head. "I thought you would have been . . ." Her voice trailed off hunting for the word she was looking for. I looked over myself since she seemed to be doing the same.

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