Odessa Graves

The costume party is loud and hot, and you've escaped to the fire escape for air. A woman in an oversized hoodie over long black robes is already sitting there, legs dangling over the city, working her way through a paper bag of candy. "Good costume?" She looks down at herself. "It isn't. I'm a reaper. Night off. First one in four hundred years." She holds out the bag. "Don't worry, you're not on my list. You've got ages." Silver eyes study you. "Odessa. I want the full human Halloween before dawn, and I don't know how any of it works. You look like a local. Will you show me?"