One goat-entrails-pentagram and a acid green portal later, Fifi and I stepped into the Californian sun, right in Keanu Reeves' backyard. The grass is greener and softer, it no longer smells like garbage, and the mansion before us is amazing. Hollywood Hills is the place to be!

I'm also pretty certain we have the right place because there are a bunch of lovely soul butterflies of all colors fluttering around. Oh, and I can also see Keanu in his kitchen, heading for the fridge and getting out a bottle of star-power water.

"There he is!" Fifi shrieks, pointing a very obvious finger.

"Fifi, quiet down," I say between my teeth. "I'm not sure we should be disturbing him. The butterflies are out here."

"Not disturb him? Why are we even here then?"

I want to explain how we actually have a job to do and it unfortunately does not include meeting famous people, but it's too late. The super star raises his gaze and sees us. I swear, his black eyes can bore into your soul like a drill, pulling out your deepest darkest secrets. He still has the John Wick look of longish hair and short-trimmed beard, except he's wearing grey sweats and a black t-shirt.

Fabulous. How can he look so fabulous? How can he groan so fabulously and walk over with the stride of a king? I swear, I'm one minute away from fainting with delight and squealing. But Damian holds me in a vertical position and forces an unimpressed expression on my face. How can he be unimpressed?

Because he's a guy and I'm not a twelve-year-old girl.

Oh, shush. He's not a guy. He's a star. Your life has no emotion or excitement in it. Damian just snarls something, so I mentally bash him with the silence stick.

Fifi clenches her fists and brings them under her chin, her knees crossed and feet moving like she seriously needs to pee. I'd probably be doing the same thing if Damian's dignity allowed it.

Keanu slides open his glass back door, an exasperate frown on his face. The moment his presence shares its environment with us, it's like the air sizzles.

Be weary. That's not just your nerves.

I perk up at Damian's words, though I'm pretty sure he's just jealous at this point because he's not as fabulous as the man before us. I open my mouth to greet him, but am temporarily distracted by Fifi cu fangirl faints at my feet.

"Oh great," I mumble. I have to admit that I find this a wee bit annoying. I'm pretty much freaking out too, but you don't see me fainting in front of celebrities. I'm better than that.

"What now?" Keanu asks, and I turn my attention to him.

"Sorry, she just got overexcited to see you. She's a huge fan." I bite my lip, fighting Damian over my next words. "I am too, though mostly of your earlier work."

"Always nice to meet a fan." He throws Fifi a slightly worried glance, but then refocuses on me. "But you've portaled into my backyard and you smell like goat." He crosses his arms over his chest. "So what now?"

I squint at him. Damian is right. There is something off about him.

No! What gave it away? The fact that he has a ton of soul butterflies in his backyard or the part where he is used to random people teleporting to his house?

"Can you see these?" I ask, waving my hand in the direction of the butterflies.

He throws a fleeing glance upward and I'm sure he does. "Can you?" he asks.

"Yes."

"That's strange for a soul hunter."

"I'm not exactly a soul hunter. I'm an important influencer trapped in the body of a soul hunter."

He raises his eyebrows, looking impressed. I want to squeal. I've actually managed to impress Keanu Reeves. I want to dance, but Damian isn't letting me again. #spoilsport #yourjustjealous.

"Okay, influencer. What do you need?" Well, he accepted my predicament fast enough.

"I need the most recent piece lost while watching Sweet November," I say, trying to be vague.

Good job. Thumbs up.

I don't appreciate your sarcasm, Damian.

"Ah," Keanu says, his eyes scanning the swarm of colorful insects. "That one. Strange that those still pile up."

"All these butterflies are for Sweet November?" I ask, taking in the massive number.

"Not exactly." He points to a group that's mostly red. "Those are for Jon Wick's dog. And I have a few for the Matrix, and that lone one over there is for Speed for some reason. Anyway, you'll be wanting this one." He waves his hand to shoo away most of the Sweet November butterflies and reveals a massive black one.

"Yes! That's it!" It had to be it. I've never seen a big ole black butterfly before.

"Get it out of here. It smells like brimstone and is stinking up the place." Keanu plucks its wings with ease and hands it to me.

"With pleasure." I take it for him and am surprised by how hot it is. Not that I've actually grabbed other butterflies for comparison, but I'm guessing they might feel less evil than this one. "And thanks for being so cool."

Yeah, sure. Ask him why he can actually see them?

Keanu smiles in that mysterious yet charming way of his. "I was a soul hunter once, too, Damian Bradley. Some things never change."

"How did you get your soul back?" I ask in awe.

That's your question? He can hear me!

I don't think so. It's more likely coincidence and the expression on my face that prodded his  answer instead of mystery mind reading powers.

"That is a story or another time. Also for my autobiography, so stay tuned for when it hits book retailers everywhere."

That's actually very cool. But from the strain of his gaze, I can tell he wants us and the tainted soul piece out of there, so I'm more than happy to text Desiree and tell her we need a ride back. Then I drag unconscious Fifi through the portal and we're out of the man's fabulous hair.

👸

"I can't believe I missed all of it!"

Fifi is raging mad and I can't really blame her. I can't believe I didn't even think to ask for Keanu's autograph. What kind of socialite am I? It's my first time meeting an A list celebrity and I'm all about business and not disturbing him more than I have to.

Why Carolyn, could this be growth?

I hate Damian right now. He totally does not get my lifestyle.

Your lifestyle is childish.

Look who's talking, mister No Soul and whiny dealings with the devil.

I decide to ignore any further comments from inside my head and focus on Fifi who is pacing the length of Damian's living room, the black butterfly fluttering over her head like an insane familiar. Butch sits on the couch, his tiny malevolent eyes following it with awe.

"I think we should get these two out of here before summoning the Devil," Desiree says, all business, and I know she means Fifi and Butch.

I agree, but I'm also aware that I've left something unfinished. Should I return to my body and regain my old life, I'd never get the chance again.

"Can't we postpone that for a little while? There's something I want to do."

Desiree gives me one of those straight-face-squinting-emoji looks. "That invisible thing is leaving a trail of fire in the middle of my carpet."

That was actually true, and it shows a lot about how mad Fifi is that she's actually stepping over it repeatedly without running for dear life or trying to see where it's coming from. As distressing as that looks, it doesn't weaken my resolve.

"It won't take long."

"No way. Unless we find a way to contain it, this thing will set fire to my house."

Desiree makes a pertinent point. I wouldn't want a devil-butterfly setting fire to my fabulous flat either, let alone a house like this. Well, if I had one.

"I know how to contain it." Fifi stops pacing which also prevents the fire spread a little.

"You do?" Desiree asks, quirking one perfect eyebrow.

Right on cue, the doorbell rings. I can feel Damian tensing, and Desiree also looks like a spring about to snap.

"Don't worry, it's for me." Fifi strides to the door like she own the place and returns a minute later holding a small package. "I asked the delivery guy to meet me here since I wasn't home."

We all watch in shock as Fifi digs her nails in the cardboard and tears the box open. With a satisfied grin, she pulls out what looks like an intricately ornate urn.

"Is that...?" Desiree asks in disbelief.

"Yes, it's a soul vessel. Pretty, isn't it?"

"That could actually work," Desiree says.

Damian gives me a nudge and I grab the butterfly and the urn. It flutters madly, as if guessing I'm about to imprison it, but I still stuf it in the jar and close the lid. The fire on the carpet dims and goes out, leaving behind a trail of soot.

"This seems able to actually hold it," I say in awe. Apparently Fifi was right, it's not just a fancy jar.

"I'm surprised she got an actual soul vessel," Desiree says, freaked out for some reason.

"You can find anything online nowadays," Fifi says with a satisfied grin.

"Okay, but we're not sure how long it will last and if it might attract other hunters, so be quick about it." As goddess-like as Desiree is, she can be such a party pooper.

I nod and turn on my heals, hurrying towards the motorcycle once again. I can't believe I'm actually starting to enjoy riding that thing. #badgirls4life

Where are we going? Damian asks, sounding confused because he's a man and never listens. He should know where I want to go, what I have to do.

"We're going to my grandmother's grave," I say, shutting the door behind me. "I need the rest of my soul back."

He hums, but doesn't say anything for once. I'm glad, because this part is nonnegotiable. Everything I've done since being stuck in this body has been for him. Now it's about time I did something for myself. 

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Word count: 1732

Total word count: 21,375

And I'm officially over the threshold! Yay me! And I decided to shorten this up a little, so I might actually have 1 chapter and the epilogue left to finish the story. Because now, all we have to do is fix things. It depends on how big the next chapter gets.

Carolyn and Fifi have succeeded. Now it's just time for Carolyn to learn a valuable lesson. Then we can see what rewards await our heroes! Stay tuned for the (maybe) exciting conclusion.