Reaping Havoc

by AJ Rose

  Mitch trotted after her, the leash looped around his hand. The ball pinged off a rock along the jogging path and veered in an unexpected direction, Sadie blazing after it like a furry guided missile. Her momentum took her in front of a startled jogger, who broke stride and watched as she cannonballed into a hedgerow, only her hind end sticking out. The wag of her tail set the entire hedge shaking, and the jogger let out a sharp laugh.

  “Sorry about that,” Mitch said as he slowed to a walk, eyes on the dog to make sure she was okay. “Sadie’s kind of kamikaze about her tennis balls. Let no man or bush stand in the way.”

  “No problem. It’s cool they let dogs off-leash in a public park. Where I grew up, you couldn’t do that.”

  Mitch’s eyes snapped to the jogger’s face, looking for signs of disapproval. That faded when he recognized the guy’s features. Jeep Guy.

  “She’s well behaved, and the city ordinances aren’t specific about off-leash rules only applying to a dog park. If I couldn’t trust her completely, I wouldn’t let her do it. But she’s gotta run somewhere. I don’t have a backyard.” Word vomit much? God, Mitch, shut up.

  Sadie backed out of the bush and sat, grinning around her prize and looking to Mitch for approval. It gave him an excuse to break eye contact and maybe get away from Jeep Guy before he could say anything more.

  “Sadie?” The dog looked at the newcomer and her tail thumped faster. “Can I pet her?”

  “Sure,” Mitch said, watching Jeep Guy crouch and hold out his hand in a loose fist, palm down, to let her know he wasn’t a threat, especially to her tennis ball.

  She lowered her head and watched him, then after a couple fake-outs, where she pretended she was going to drop the ball, she let it bounce to the ground and sniffed his hand. When it was clear he was no threat, she bumped the underside of his hand with her snout and submitted to his ear scratches.

  “She’s beautiful,” Jeep Guy said. Sadie lowered to her belly and then rolled to her back, four paws in the air as she basked in Jeep Guy’s attention.

  “And kind of a whore for belly scratches,” Mitch said, amused.

  Jeep Guy laughed. “I wish my apartment was pet friendly. The building is but it’s not on my lease. It’d be nice to have someone to come home to.” Jeep Guy’s tone went wistful, almost melancholy.

  Instead of averting his gaze from the muscular body in a tight sleeveless t-shirt and shorts, Mitch looked past that and saw Jeep Guy’s expression turn inward, as if he were recalling bittersweet memories or a friend whom he hadn’t seen in a long while. Mitch felt a stab of regret for having spent the week trying to dismiss his interest in someone who looked like they could really use a friend. He’d been so absorbed in his preoccupation with the push-pull of being attracted to someone he didn’t want to be attracted to, he’d forgotten there was a human being behind the piercing blue eyes and sandy brown hair. Jeep Guy had shaved in the few days since their run-in at the grocery store, and his face was just a hair away from too thin, his chin almost too pointy.

  The breeze kicked up, shaking the burnished leaves of the nearby trees and flinging sunlight in dollops like golden paint splatting on a canvas. Something shimmered and caught at the edges of Mitch’s awareness and a thrill snapped through his spine.

  “Yeah, Sadie’s my roommate as much as my dog,” he said absently, searching for the thing that had grabbed at his psyche.

  There.

  A gossamer strand of ethereal silver emerged from the nape of Jeep Guy’s neck and floated in the wind like a torn spider web, glinting in the rays of the sun. Trying not to look too intent or distracted, Mitch followed the strand to a vague shape standing five feet away, next to the hedgerow.

  No. Not next to it. In it. Without disturbing the branches and leaves.

  Mitch’s brain shorted out and he couldn’t help but stare. He engaged his reaper genes, and the shape came into focus. A girl about Jeep Guy’s age, with almost elfin features and the same color hair hanging to her shoulders. She wasn’t that vivid, sort of a washed out watercolor of a soul, and she looked… well. Mitch couldn’t see her expression completely, but he’d have sworn she was smiling.

  “… is she?”

  The words barely registered, and when Soul Girl waved at him, Mitch startled. He had no clue what the rules were for a reaper interacting with a soul he hadn’t reaped.

  If his life had a soundtrack, everything would have stopped with a record scratch. His brain shorted out.

  Wait a minute. Could Jeep Guy actually… be a reaper?

  Questions peppered Mitch’s thoughts, from how he could be subtle in trying to find out to wondering if the rules applied if both people were in on the secret. He’d never met a reaper who wasn’t family, though obviously they existed. That was why Morgan had moved to New York. He wanted the anonymity but also, the demand was more than the current lineup of reapers could handle.

  “Um, did you hear me? I asked how old is she?” Jeep Guy’s voice broke into his stupor. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  His attention snapped back to Jeep Guy’s face.

  “Uh, just lost in thought.”

  “Do you get lost a lot?” Jeep Guy smiled and came to his feet, eyes twinkling. Sadie rolled to her stomach and triumphantly snatched her tennis ball. “You were talking about that at the grocery store the other day, too.”

  Mitch’s cheeks suffused with heat. “It happens.”

  Jeep Guy smiled. “So, uh, speaking of lost. I moved here about a month ago. Is there a way to find out more about the town than just aimless wandering? Your tip about Albertson’s was great.”

  Why would a reaper get assigned here? Caperville is already covered. Blinking away his confusion, Mitch hadn’t registered the question.

  “Did you move with your family?” As if they might be lurking nearby, Mitch looked around, trying not to focus on Soul Girl too much.

  As though a thundercloud had moved over the park, all light fled Jeep Guy’s face and his expression shuttered.

  “I came here alone.”

  Not alone now, my friend, Mitch thought wryly. He refrained from giving his knowledge of Soul Girl away.

  “Did you already know someone here?”

  Jeep Guy shrugged, still not forthcoming. Well, Mitch wasn’t one to pry if he didn’t want to talk about his family. The Seekers were very close, but that didn’t mean all reaper families were. Maybe some of them purposefully branched out so as not to call attention to themselves. Lord knew there was enough gossip about his family in this town as it was; Uncle Thomas kept to the nursing home for his reaps, and his dad was at the beginning of his retirement and passing the reins to Mitch. They didn’t draw a lot of attention if they could help it, but it was the nature of the job.

  “Have you had a chance to explore?”

  “Not a lot. My friend Wes and I have been to a couple bars, but—” he stopped abruptly, looking sheepish. “I have to watch my money since I haven’t gotten a job yet. They don’t start making snow on the mountain until the middle of November, and I wanted to give the ski school hiring clinic a try first. No point in working at Home Depot if I can get paid to teach people to ski. That’s mostly why I came here.”

  “Ah,” Mitch said, remembering the ski rack on the Jeep. If he was going to find out more about him, he needed to call him something other than Jeep Guy. Abruptly he held out his hand. “I’m Mitch.” Leaving off his last name seemed wise. After a month, the guy had probably already heard things about the Seekers.

  “Nate Koehn. Nice to meet you, Mitch.” Nate’s hand was soft, if a little damp, but there was no missing the way his fingers brushed Mitch’s palm when he let go. “Do you have plans later?” he asked.

  “Um, nothing pressing. Just relaxing with Sadie.”

  “Would you be interested in maybe getting a drink or coffee or something? Maybe tell me a little more about Caperville?”

  A thousand questions swam in his head, like sharks in a feeding frenz
y, and before he realized what he was doing, Mitch began to nod. “Sure. I, uh… have to work for a few hours this afternoon, but I can probably cut out early and meet you somewhere. What are you looking for?”

  Nate shrugged. “Not sure. Someplace that doesn’t have karaoke.” He grinned, and Mitch could only return it.

  “Okay, there’s a coffee shop on Pierce Boulevard called Brewskis. It’s sort of touristy, but they have the best coffee in town.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Nate agreed. “The insider scoop.”

  Mitch’s stomach did a happy little roll. “Meet me there around six? We can decide then if we’re hungry or whatever.”

  “See you then,” Nate said, preparing to resume his run.

  Mitch stopped him after a couple steps. “Do you need directions?”

  “GPS on my phone,” Nate answered. “I’ll find it. Bye, Sadie!” He waved and was off, his corporeal companion trailing behind him.

  How did that just happen?

  Chapter 4

  Conventions

  Brewskis was busy but not overly so when Nate walked in. He didn’t see Mitch, so he ordered a latte and nabbed a table before they were all taken. When Mitch entered a few minutes later, his gaze zoomed in on the table behind Nate, or more accurately, above it. Nate turned, wondering if someone was trying to squeeze between chairs and he needed to move. The table behind him was empty. When he looked back around, Mitch was smiling and standing beside the chair opposite him.

  “Hey, you found it okay?”

  “Yeah, and I love all the ski stuff.”

  The interior of the coffee shop was decorated with ski paraphernalia, large pictures of the best slopes on Caper Mountain, poles and skis crisscrossed on the walls, and snow globes on every surface except the tables. The front window had fake snow sprayed around the edges, and all the specialty coffees were named after ski runs at the resort, which Nate knew from having studied the website within an inch of its life.

  “That’s right, you came here to be a ski bum.” Mitch grinned to show he was teasing, then pointed to the line. “Want anything?”

  Nate declined, not sure if they were going to end up having dinner or not, and he didn’t want to ruin his appetite on pastries. When Mitch returned with his drink, he also had two pumpkin spice muffins.

  “You have to try these. I know you said you didn’t want anything, but you can’t come to Brewskis without having one. It’s against the law.”

  “See, these are the things I need to know, man,” Nate said, pulling the small paper plate toward him. His first bite had him rolling his eyes back. The muffin was dense and almost gooey, intense flavors blended perfectly with spices. Swallowing his first bite, he let out an almost obscene groan. “I don’t normally go for stuff like this, because it’s all sugar and carbs, but oh my God, that’s good.”

  “Told you,” Mitch said with satisfaction. “You have to get them now though, because after Christmas, they don’t make them again until September. That is just one reason fall in Caperville is my favorite season.”

  “What are the other reasons?” Nate asked, curious. Yeah, he wanted to know about the town, but he wanted to know about Mitch, too. Wes’s warning kept playing in his head, but Nate figured it’d be rude to ask about the rumors.

  “The weather. I tend not to mind cloudy days. There’s a certain quiet about them. The scenery can’t be beat, and there’s all this excitement around town for ski season. Most of Caperville’s income comes from tourists, so it changes the whole vibe when the mountain is about to open. Everyone’s happier, full of promise, and they have all these ideas about how to make this year better than last.” Mitch shrugged. “It feels… hopeful.”

  “What about you? Do the tourists help your profession?”

  “Some,” Mitch answered, taking a big bite of his muffin. “I work in my dad’s bookstore, and we do a lot of online business throughout the year because he deals with specialty titles people can’t get anywhere else. That’s a big chunk of our business. Rare books are expensive books. But it does pick up when the tourists arrive.”

  “Wow, I kind of thought brick-and-mortar bookstores were going by the wayside because of Amazon.” Nate had an e-reader and loved the versatility of keeping his entire collection on one simple device as opposed to having them taking over his apartment, not that he had shelves yet. The books he had in physical form were limited to those he cherished, especially the ones Tate had bought him as gifts.

  “We do okay. My dad spends a lot of time trying to woo indie authors by offering them shelf space they wouldn’t ordinarily get in a bigger chain store. Plus Dad’s been looking into expanding our website to offer ebooks for sale for all types of e-readers, but it hasn’t gotten traction yet. Authors and publishers need to know about us before they’ll upload their books for sale. Hopefully in the next few months, that’ll happen.”

  “Oh, let me know when it’s available. I’d much rather support the local economy than some big warehouse superstore website.”

  “So,” Mitch said, polishing off his muffin and dusting the crumbs from his fingers onto his plate. “Ski instructor, huh? That’s exciting. What’s it like?”

  Nate grinned, a little embarrassed. “I don’t actually know yet. I’ve never been one, but I figure if I’m ever going to, now’s the time to try.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I’m… taking a break from college for awhile. I wanted to do something for myself before I got a degree and landed a desk job somewhere.” That wasn’t the whole story, but Nate wasn’t about to drag that dead horse around for another beating.

  “Really?” Mitch seemed acutely interested. “What’s your major?”

  “Business.” He must’ve made a face, because Mitch laughed.

  “I take it that doesn’t really pump your oxygen?”

  Nate chuckled. “That’s a good way to put it. No. I may not be able to ski forever, and I seriously doubt there’s a good retirement package in the deal, but if I don’t do it now, I never will, and it seems such a waste not to at least try.”

  “I take it you’re pretty good.”

  Ducking his head, he said, “Not bad.” If he admitted to having been an alternate to the US Men’s Olympic Ski Team for the last winter games—one of the youngest in history—then he’d have been compelled to mention Tate. Not that he was running from what happened, but he didn’t know this guy. Better not to bring down the mood on the first date.

  Is this a date? He wanted it to be, but he hadn’t asked Mitch out in a way to make that obvious. They were simply two people becoming friends over coffee and information about the town they lived in.

  “I never learned to ski,” Mitch said, drawing Nate’s thoughts back to the conversation. “I mean, not for lack of trying, but the whole ‘keeping your ski tips pointed at each other to slow down’ just meant I ended up cross-legged or turned backward and had to bail. On a bunny slope.”

  “Oh, well I’ll be happy to teach you.”

  Mitch sighed, putting on the dramatics. “If only I could be taught. I think I’m just supposed to admire the mountain from down here.”

  “Bullshit,” Nate said confidently. “It’s not about conquering the slope, it’s about becoming one with it. The skis aren’t big sticks on your feet, they’re your compass and your vehicle at once.”

  Mitch looked at him speculatively. “You really think you could teach me?”

  “Absolutely. First snow, you and I have a date with the slopes.”

  “Uh, okay.”

  There was some definite hesitation there, so Nate held up his hands. “I mean, if you want to. I don’t want to be pushy.”

  “No, no,” Mitch tried to correct his tone. “I want to. I’m just not convinced I can learn, even if I shift the way I look at it. But I’ll try anything once. Or, uh, twice, I guess.”

  Nate changed the subject. “Okay, you already gave me the skinny on the good grocery stores. What about restaurants? I’m in
terested in the places the locals keep a secret from the tourists.”

  They talked for a while about the various shops around town and who had the best steak or to-die-for desserts. Nate had already decided The Widow’s Peak had the best burgers and was pleased his assessment was the town’s general consensus, too. He did notice Mitch stayed away from answering when Nate asked about the people. Since he knew a few from Widow’s, he decided to push.

  “What do you know about a waitress there named Jenna?”

  A look of discomfort crossed Mitch’s face. “Oh, um. She’s nice. I haven’t really gotten to know her. She’s a single mom with the most spirited little boy. His name is Caleb. A lot of people talk about how unruly he is, but I think he’s interesting. He’s about six, and he does not like to be told he can’t do something. Last season, they came into the bookstore, and he didn’t want to look at the picture books and primer readers. Jenna kept trying to steer him over there, but no, he wanted all the Harry Potters, insisting he needed to know what it was like to go to wizard school since he was destined to go to one. Jenna’s really good with him, but there were a couple women there that didn’t like him insisting he could read those books. Tried to shame Jenna about letting her kid read something so un-Christian. Pretty sure Caleb couldn’t read them yet, because of words like Quidditch and basilisk, but Jenna wasn’t having those women’s attitude. She bought him the whole series in hardcover.”

  “Wow, expensive.” Nate couldn’t help comparing the difference in Mitch’s assessment of Jenna to Jenna’s information on the Seekers, and it made him sad. Mitch had to know what people said about him, since apparently no one talked to his family. Yet Mitch was praising her.

  “My dad gave her the fifty percent employee discount and told the boy anytime he wanted someone to practice his magic with, he’d be happy to teach him how to swish and flick his wand to levitate something. Caleb left with a huge grin. Those women left without buying anything, looking like they’d swallowed lemons. So, uh, Jenna’s a good mom, and a really good person. I bet she’d be happy to go on a date with you, if you ask her.”