I locked fingers with her and allowed her to pull me to my feet. More pain radiated through me. What was the saying? The second day was always the worst. I couldn’t imagine my body hurting more unless somebody set me on fire. “Thank you.”
“Go take a hot shower and I’ll fix something to eat.” She slid the wrap up my arms and settled it on my shoulders. “You should relax the rest of the night.”
Pulling the lapel closed, I nodded. “Okay.” I straightened and grimaced. “Thanks again for your help.”
She waved me away. “Go.”
I shuffled to the bathroom and locked myself inside. Turning the water on as hot as it would go, I dropped the robe and climbed in. Though I couldn’t actually say the heat eased my pain, it certainly loosened some of the tightness.
My hand brushed the two pendants lying against my chest. I held them between my index finger and thumb, gently rubbing them. I wasn’t convinced the raven charm had supernatural powers, but I was willing to invest a little effort to find out.
Forcing myself to relax, I concentrated on the charm and let the steaming water flow over me. After a few seconds the sensation of being stroked with feathers bushed across my skin. I continued to rub, enjoying the feel. The tension in my neck and shoulders eased. After another minute the sensation faded, taking with it, a little of my pain.
Jets of water pummeled my back. There was no doubt I still hurt, but not as much as before I’d entered the shower. Maybe there was more to the charm than I’d originally thought. Maybe there was still more to discover. I really hoped so since I didn’t get everlasting beauty and strength when I became a reaper.
After twenty bliss-filled minutes the water turned cold. I shut off the shower, feeling a lot better. Another ten minutes found me in the kitchen, stomach growling, and throat parched.
Vella and Bronte were busy cutting up a variety of cheese, fruit, and vegetables, laying them on a platter.
“It looks like a snack-platter for dinner,” I said. Truly, it was one of my favorite meals. Who didn’t love hors d’oeuvres? It was like a party without all the work.
“Quick and easy,” Vella said. She turned, holding the tray. My mouth watered. “I hope you don’t mind me mixing up a little of my homemade salsa too.”
“No, I love your salsa.” My eyes cut to my daughter. “And you’re helping?”
Bronte glanced up. “Yeah, I know you had a hard day.”
Her smile was sweet and innocent, which put me instantly on alert. “That’s so sweet of you to help.” I shuffled to one of the chairs at the table and sat. “It really takes the pressure off knowing you’re willing to pitch in.” Bronte’s smile tightened just a fraction. “And to do it out of the kindness of your heart, not expecting anything in return.” My features slackened. “It really means a lot.”
“Sure.” The word rushed out, pitched a bit higher than was natural. “We have to help out each other. Give and take.”
“Exactly.” I nodded, continuing to hold her gaze.
She blinked several times before looking back at the tray of cheese she was arranging. “But…”
Here it came. She wanted something. Rarely did Bronte do anything without a calculated reason. “But nothing,” I said, cutting her off. “You’re awesome. Best daughter ever.”
“Yeah—yeah—that’s true.” She nodded. “I’m a pretty great daughter.” Her head continued to bounce like a bobble-head doll. “Which is why you should let me go to Payton Alexander’s Halloween party.”
Okay, it wasn’t as bad as I thought. “Who’s Payton Alexander?”
Vella set a bottle of Corona in front of me. “Doesn’t his daddy own the furniture store on C Street?”
“The guy who screams in his TV commercials?” I took a drink, stalling for time.
“Yeah, that’s him, but Payton isn’t creepy like that.” Bronte placed several mouth-watering selections on a small plate and set it in front of me. A silent bribe to sway my vote. “Actually he’s really shy.”
“Cute?” Vella asked.
A flush crept across Bronte’s cheeks, telling me exactly what I needed to know. She shrugged. “Yeah, he’s all right.”
That meant gorgeous in Bronte lingo. “Huh.” I took another drink, but didn’t say anything.
“So, can I go?”
I stared at my daughter. “Who else will be there?”
“Fang and William.”
Bronte’s best friends. Fang was a cute little Chinese girl with a serious case of the Goth. Constantly dressed in black and skulls, she looked more like a reaper than I did. William was the nerd of nerds, but cute as all get out. I was fairly certain he had a crush on Bronte. Not that she noticed—or that she let on. “Is that all?”
“And Kelly Huff.” Bronte continued to needlessly rearrange the bits of cheese on the tray. “She got her license and offered to drive us.”
Red warning lights blared in my mind. “Kelly Huff? When did you guys become friends?” From what I knew of Kelly she was the most popular girl in tenth grade. Queen of the in-crowd. And a mean girl. She and Bronte butted heads a few times, so I didn’t understand their new camaraderie. Then again, who really understood the mind of a teenage girl?
“We’re not friends.” Bronte plopped in the chair and bit into a cracker, chewed, and swallowed. “She likes William.”
“The Queen of Mean likes dear, sweet William?” Vella asked. “She’ll eat him alive.”
Bronte snorted. “Yeah, when I told him, he broke out in hives.”
I traced the blue pattern ringing my plate. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you going to a party with a bunch of teenagers.”
“Who else would I go with?” My daughter’s head gave a little shake. The indignant kind that told me clearly I was an idiot. “I’m a teenager. My friends are teenagers.”
The urge to tell her no pushed against my throat and it was difficult to repress. Trying to be reasonable, I bit back my retort. It wasn’t that long ago I was in high school. The reason why everything seemed so important or monumental escaped me now, but I was trying to be understanding. “Will there be chaperones at the party? And by chaperones I don’t mean older siblings. Parents, grandparents, a youth minster perhaps.”
“I think his parents are going to be there or next door at another Halloween party.” Bronte rested her arms on the tabled and leaned toward me. “Please? It’s like, the first thing I’ve asked to go to since dad died.”
Oh, she was good. Playing the dead dad card. Even though I couldn’t argue the fact she’d basically been housebound for the past year, I still wasn’t comfortable letting her go. “Let me think about it.”
She groaned. “Come on, Mom.”
“If you need an answer now, it’ll be no.” I leaned back in the chair and winced when the bruise on my back hit the wooden rungs. “But I promise I’ll think about it.”
She rolled her eyes and stood. “Fine.” Turning, she skulked toward the door. “No matter what, I’m not trick or treating with Thing One and Thing Two this year.”
“I didn’t ask you to.” My mom volunteered to take Bryce and Breck around her neighborhood. She was militant about checking Halloween candy for razor blades and straight pins. Plus, then I wouldn’t have to shiver in the cold while my sons strategically hit every house within a five block radius. “Why don’t you have your own party here?”
She stopped but didn’t look at me. “What’s the point? Everybody will be at Payton’s party.”
With that last jab of guilt, she left the kitchen. I sighed and took a long tug on my bottle. My daughter had never been into what was cool or following the popular crowd. It was one of the things I loved about her. From a very young age she’d marched to her own drum. It looked like those days were at an end.
Vella slid into Bronte’s vacated chair. “You gonna let her go?”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “Teenagers, a party, and driving is never a good idea.” Vella didn’t have kids, but she ha
d a ton of nieces and nephews. A few of them she’d practically raised. “Do you think I should?”
I expected some of her southern philosophy. Maybe something like, “You’ve got to let your kids kill their own rats.” Instead she cocked her head and said, “Hell no.”
“Why?”
“Besides the fact this Kelly Huff is obviously using Bronte to sink her claws into our sweet William, you’ve already lost your husband to a car accident. Do you really want to take a chance on your daughter’s life? Especially with all the crazy people out on Halloween?”
Her words felt like a slap, but she’d voiced the exact concerns I’d been thinking. My memories of Jeff’s accident were still so vivid they took my breath away. Imagining that with one of my children made me want to vomit. “No, I don’t.”
“She’ll probably hate you for a while, but she’ll get over it.” Vella reached across the table and patted my hand. “The last thing you want is to reap your own child.”
“Wow, you don’t pull any punches.” I gripped her hand and squeezed, letting her know I wasn’t angry. “But you’re right.” I shook my head, searching for the right words. “I wouldn’t come back from that.”
Pulling her hand from mine, she sat back in the chair. “None of us would, Lisa.”
Silence stretched between us. I popped another hunk of cheese in my mouth and chewed. Swallowing, I looked at her. “You’re a good friend.”
“I know.” She lifted her bottle, drank, and then lowered it again. “You are too, despite this whole Angel of Death thing.”
“Thanks—I think.” Though the shower eased some of my aches, my body still throbbed. I sat forward and rolled my shoulders. “I’m not twenty anymore.” I sighed. “What if I can’t do this reaper job?”
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I could be killed or maimed.” I hesitated. “Or humiliated.” I rubbed my hands over my face. “God knows I’ve already done that enough.”
“Listen.” Vella tapped her bright pink nail on the table. “This might not be the best situation or your dream job, but it’s going to put food on the table. Hell, I’d let you come work for me, but business has been slow.”
Though Vella was my best friend, the thought of working at her hair salon, listening to Jonathan gossip all day made the hair on my neck prickle. At times I wasn’t sure how Vella and I became such good friends. I didn’t care about celebrity gossip, make up, or name brands. Because of her husband’s high position at the oil company, she was involved in a lot of charities and social events. Whereas, I attended hockey games and constructed paper-mache turkey heads for school plays. We were the epitome of opposites attracting. I think that’s why we worked.
“Thanks.” I propped my elbows on the table, not wanting to put pressure on my back. “You’re right. At this point I need to tough it out.” I attempted a cheery smile. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be the best reaper this side of the Arctic…once I stop hurting.”
“Have another beer. It will help cure what ails you.”
“I doubt it. Besides, I need a good night sleep tonight.” My cheery smile tightened into a humorless grin. “God only knows what’s in store for me tomorrow.”
“Did Nate give you any clue?”
“Only that we hit the seventh. I hope that’s not some metaphorical term for one of the circles of Hell.”
“Well if it is, give my Uncle Donny Jo a message from me. Tell him I did not end up pregnant by Al Ambler. Nor did I have to resort to mud wrestling or lap dances to get through college.” She took a swig of beer and then set it on the table with more force than necessary. “Oh!” She jabbed a finger at me. “And tell him Aunt Edith knew all along he was cheating on her with Alvaretta Hunt—though that’s not what we called the woman.”
“Yeah, I got it.” A shiver skidded up my spine. “Hopefully, I won’t meet Uncle Donny Jo or any other of your relatives tomorrow. Or ever.”
“Well, if you do, don’t turn your back on them.” She pinned me with a gaze and nodded her head. “I’m just sayin’.”
Hell just got a whole lot scarier.
Chapter 12
At exactly ten the next morning I pushed through the front door of GRS. Nate leaned next to the elevator, thumbing through the Anchorage Newspaper. I straightened, trying to hide any indication that yesterday’s training torture left me nearly incapacitated.
“What are you doing down here?” I stopped at the elevator and punched the button. “Afraid I wouldn’t show up this morning?”
“The thought had crossed my mind.” He smiled and folded the newspaper, tossing it into the recycle bin. “But—” He patted me on the back. Pain shot from my shoulder and down my back, nearly forcing a groan from me. I ground my teeth together to prevent a whimper from escaping. “I knew you were made of stronger stuff.”
“Yep.” I stepped away from him. “That’s me. Tough as nails.”
The elevator doors slid open and he held up his hand. “After you—partner.”
Was that sarcasm? It was difficult to tell with him sometimes, so I just assumed it was. “What fun things do we have planned for today?” I leaned against the back wall of the elevator. “Torture with hot pokers. Shoving toothpicks under my fingers. Five hours of being licked by cats while strapped to a chair?”
“What’s the matter?” He slid his key card along the slot and pressed the number seven-button. “Yesterday too much for you?”
“No.” Pasting on a sweet smile, I crossed my arms, ignoring that ache that emitted around the area of my bra flab. Until last night I hadn’t realized I had muscles there. “But since I passed, and I’m here today, I thought you might have some new challenges for me.”
The doors squeezed shut and he turned to face me. “Tests are over. Today you see Command Central and meet some of the higher ranking members of GRS.”
“Sounds fun.” At least the idea of a tour did. I wasn’t sure what I would have done if he told me I had to lift or climb something. My stomach did a little flip when the elevator began to climb. “By higher ranking, do you mean reapers?”
“Reapers, command personnel—and others.”
And others sounded ominous but I didn’t question him further. Once we reached the seventh floor, I’d find out what others were. No sense in stirring up my suspicious nature more than it already was. “Cool.”
We rode the rest of the way in silence. I tried to appear unfazed by what waited for me on the seventh floor, and Nate seemed determined to break my calm façade by burning a hole in the side of my head with his stare. I ignored him. After another few seconds the elevator lurched and the doors opened.
It took all my will not to gawk at the sight. One large room spread out in front of me. Smoky colored floor-to-ceiling windows soared up the front wall, letting in the bright October sun. Raised voices, printers churning out copies, and the frantic tapping of keyboards whizzed around us.
“Ladies first.” Nate indicated I should lead.
I stepped onto the blue carpet but didn’t advance. The room reminded me of the bridge on a space ship. Computers lined one of the walls and in the center of the room was a circular elevated platform. What looked like radars pinged, registering tiny green blips on the screens. But it was the man standing in the center who drew my attention.
Yowza! I didn’t think men like him existed in real life. The dark gray t-shirt he wore stretched across his broad back, and his biceps rolled from under the tight armholes. The fabric clung to his body and dipped into a pair of gray camouflage pants that hugged a rear end that made my fingers itch to touch it. I blew out a long, silent breath but didn’t fan myself. I did have some control.
“This is Command Central. It’s the heart of GRS,” Nate said.
Not pulling my gaze from the mouth-watering Adonis, I pointed. “Who’s that?” Nate snorted and with great difficulty, I looked at him. “What?”
“That’s Constantine.” A smirk turned up the corner of his
lip. “He always gets that reaction.”
“What reaction.” I tried to play innocent but knew I was busted.
“The slack jaw, hypnotic gaze, and the fact that even though you’re standing in the command center of GRS, all you can focus on is him.”
“I am not…slack jawed.” The rest of it? Guilty. “But seriously, you should have his picture on the recruiting pamphlet. I wouldn’t have hesitated signing up.”
At that moment Constantine turned. “Nate.” He hopped off the platform. “And Lisa Carron, our newest recruit.” He held out his hand. “I’m sorry for the circumstances of you being here, but I’m glad to have you.”
“And I’m glad to be had—here, I mean.”
Forget his silver gray eyes that seemed to glow, his silky voice, or the thick black hair that begged my fingers to run through it, my knees nearly buckled when I grasped his hand. A jolt of electricity shot through my body, warming me from my toes to the tips of my ears. Maybe it was a reaper thing, a way to acknowledge each other without acknowledging each other. Whatever it was, I’d be shaking his hand whenever possible.
He released me and hooked his thumbs on his front pockets. “Nate said you breezed through the obstacle course yesterday.”
I highly doubted those were the words Nate used. “Breezed, stumbled, the main thing is I made it.”
“Exactly. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
Oh happy day. Constantine walked to the center of the room, giving me another glimpse of his rear end. I followed in his wake. Damn he smelled good. If Heaven had a scent it would smell like this guy. My heart skipped a beat and I silently sighed. It was one of those he’s so dreamy sighs, usually saved for teen heartthrobs.
“This is our tracking station.” He pointed to the blipping radars. “It’s where we monitor impending deaths.”
Several green dots blinked on the screen, drawing my attention away from my incredibly hot superior. Some of the blips were bigger than the others. My stomach clenched at the idea those were people, going about their daily lives, unaware their time on Earth was counting down.
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