by Lori Sjoberg
“Marlena.” The former reaper’s fingers half curled into fists.
“You two play nice,” Cassandra warned as she emerged from the kitchen with a silver tray holding three glasses of iced tea. “I’m not in the mood to replace any more furniture.”
Dmitri raised his hands in a show of reluctant surrender. “As you wish.”
“Fine by me,” Marlena bit out.
Still, tension charged the air like an approaching storm. Adam was itching to know what had caused the bad blood, but he decided to hold his tongue until they were back on the road. Most likely, Dmitri wouldn’t tell him a damn thing, but who knew? Maybe he’d get lucky.
Marlena turned on her heel and stalked into the kitchen, returning less than a minute later with a can of Mountain Dew in her left hand. She stared darts at Dmitri while she crossed the room, stopping to sit on the armrest of the couch where Cassandra was resting. With her free hand, she pointed toward the recliner where Adam sat. “Who’s he?”
“I’m sorry, where are my manners?” Cassandra gave an apologetic smile. “Marlena, this is Adam. He’s Dmitri’s replacement.”
“Replacement, huh?” She smiled. “Looks like my day just got better.” She gave no indication that she recognized Adam. Good. The memory block must be holding. Her eyes moved over him in a businesslike appraisal before extending her slender hand. A weathered gold band circled her right ring finger, one that hadn’t been there a few days before. “Nice to meet you.”
When they shook, it seemed like a jolt of electricity traveled the length of his arm. For a small woman, her grip was strong. Her skin felt soft and she smelled faintly of vanilla.
What was it about her that made every nerve in his body rev with awareness? He’d never experienced anything like it. Sure, she was an attractive woman, but there was more to it than that. Something deep inside him stirred, as if he knew her already and yearned to reestablish the connection.
“So what brings you here today?” Marlena asked as she drew her hand away and snapped Adam back to reality.
“Business.” Dmitri shot her an indifferent look before redirecting his attention to Cassandra. “Is there someplace private where we can discuss matters?”
Marlena’s eyes thinned to slits at the blatant dismissal.
“You know you can trust Marlena,” Cassandra said, the warning back in her voice. “Anything spoken in her presence will be kept in the strictest confidence.”
“Understood.” But Dmitri didn’t seem happy about it. He paused long enough to drink some tea and set the glass on the coffee table. “One of our associates had his powers stripped. We need to find out who’s responsible and how to reverse the effects.”
Cassandra arched one eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of such a thing occurring to one of your kind. What led to this?”
“We don’t know. Adam found the man passed out in the backyard, and he claims not to remember what happened.”
Lips pressed, Cassandra fiddled with the thin metal chain hanging around her neck. “It would be a lot easier to get you an answer if you’d brought him along with you. Is there a reason why he’s not here?”
Dmitri’s expression remained a blank slate, giving absolutely nothing away. “He has enemies. We’re keeping him in a secure location until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clear plastic sandwich bag. “I brought a sample of his hair. Will that suffice?”
Cassandra opened the bag and inspected the contents. “Blood would have been better, but I suppose I can make this work.” Peering up, she met the former reaper’s dark gaze. “If I do this for you, we’re even.”
“Of course. When can we expect the results?”
She hesitated as if thinking it over. “That depends on whether I have all of the necessary supplies. Best case scenario? Two days.”
Oh, hell no. The thought of Samuel in his house for two more days made Adam’s right eye twitch. There had to be a way to get this done faster. He opened his mouth to ask, but Dmitri cut him off. “Two days is sufficient.” He stood, and Adam followed his lead. “Call me as soon as you’re finished or if you need anything else.”
Marlena peered through a space between the curtains, watching Adam get in the passenger side of Dmitri’s car. As he fastened the seat belt, his focus shifted in her direction, and she could have sworn she felt the heat from his gaze.
Cassie walked up beside her and followed her line of sight. “You know him.” A statement rather than a question.
Eyes still riveted to the retreating vehicle, Marlena nodded. It took every ounce of her self-control to keep from running down the driveway after him. “He’s the one I told you about, the one who gave me the phone so I could call the police.”
Cassie laid a hand on her shoulder. The old witch’s grip wasn’t as strong as it used to be, but it still gave her a world of comfort. “He acted like he didn’t know you, and you never called him on it. Why?”
Good question, and one she didn’t know the answer for. Recollection had swept over her the instant she laid eyes on him, followed by something far deeper and much more intense. It was a wonder she hadn’t felt it at the killer’s house. Maybe the silver collar, or the stress of the situation, had hindered her ability to make the connection.
But this time … oh yeah, this time was different. She recognized him, plain as day now, for what he truly was. Not as a reaper, or as an agent of Death, or even as an immortal being. He was taller, leaner, with darker hair and a darker complexion. But his deep brown eyes were exactly as she remembered them from so many years ago.
How was that even possible?
When Dmitri’s car drove out of view, she turned away from the window. Cassie was still watching her, concern deepening the wrinkles on her face.
“Sweetie, what’s troubling you?” the old witch asked.
Marlena shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just—do you think it’s possible for a soul to be reborn?”
“You mean reincarnation?” Cassie tapped one finger against her lips. “I’ve never run across an actual case, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”
Those shrewd blue eyes locked onto Marlena, coming close to making her squirm. “You think you knew him in another lifetime?”
“Yeah. I do.” As crazy as it sounded, she couldn’t think of a more plausible explanation. Over four hundred years had passed since she’d last experienced that kind of connection. One that sank right into her bones, dug in deep, and refused to let go. The body and face were totally different, but the soul inside called out to her in a way she simply couldn’t ignore.
The last time she’d felt it was in 1611. They’d been tied to a stake with their backs to each other, their fingertips barely touching as the flames licked up from the pyre.
When it was over, the townspeople had dumped their charred bodies at the outskirts of the small town in the northern region of the Holy Roman Empire. Only she hadn’t died. For nearly a week, she’d suffered excruciating pain while her body recuperated from the burns. And when she’d finally healed, she buried what was left of Christopher Johannes Walther. Her lover.
Her husband.
Her soul mate.
“Oh, my God, that’s wonderful news!” Cassie grinned from ear to ear after learning the truth about Adam’s prior identity. The grin faded, though, when she noticed Marlena’s unease. “Wait, I don’t understand. What’s the problem?”
Wasn’t it obvious? “He’s … different. And he doesn’t remember who I am.”
“Well, a lot of time’s gone by, and who knows how many times he’s been reborn. For all we know, his memories might get wiped clean every single time. And to be fair, I’m sure you’re not the same woman you were four hundred years ago either.”
“True.” But at least she remembered who he was. Like it was yesterday, she remembered every single thing about him. The way he smelled, the way his body moved. The way he looked at her with such unrestrained passion every single ti
me they’d made love. Each memory was a bittersweet treasure that brought her both comfort and pain.
In a perfect world, they could simply pick up where they left off. But Cassie was right. For better or for worse, Marlena was a much different woman than she’d been when she married Christopher Walther. Harder, sharper. Less trusting. She no longer possessed a fire for living, just a simple talent for survival. And as the years crept past, it got increasingly difficult to find things worth living for.
To be honest, she probably would have ended her life if not for the orphaned girl who’d tried to pick her pocket on the streets of Paris. The little girl had triggered Marlena’s maternal instincts, and instead of turning her in to the police, Marlena cleaned her up, taught her English, brought her home to the United States, and raised the child as her own.
She stole a sideways glance at the child, and her heart swelled with love. Of course, the child now appeared old enough to be her grandmother, but that made no difference to her. No matter what, Cassie would always be her little girl, the one she’d taught how to ride a bike and tie her shoes, and the one she’d brought to a local coven when her abilities began to manifest during those tenuous teenage years. If she hadn’t given the young witch the proper outlet to develop her powers, who knew how she would have turned out.
Marlena’s thoughts tracked back to the young, handsome reaper, and her heart sank down to her stomach. “What if we’re both so different we’re no longer compatible?” The possibility was enough to make her nauseous.
“You worry too much.” Cassie rubbed a hand along Marlena’s back. The soothing circles usually calmed her nerves, but at the moment they weren’t nearly as effective. “I’m sure you’ve both changed a lot over time, but deep down, you’re still the same people.” Her hand stopped moving. “Do you want him to remember who he was?”
Marlena’s first impulse was a resounding yes, but then she thought about it a little while longer and her resolution wavered. What would it do to him? How would he react? What if he remembered her the way she was and despised the woman she’d become? “I—I don’t know. What if he can’t handle the truth?”
Cassie gave her a sympathetic look. “Well, you better figure out if he can. While you’re at it, why don’t you get to know him better? You might find you like the new version better.”
Chapter 6
The first thing Marlena noticed when she returned from her morning workout was the sharp scent of ozone in the house.
That meant Cassie was awake and busy at work casting spells in the kitchen. If the amount of energy in the air was any indication, she hadn’t been at it for long. As a child, the witch hadn’t been much of a morning person, and the trait had followed her into adulthood.
“Good morning,” Marlena said as she walked into the kitchen. The crackle of electricity in the room was strong enough to make the hairs on her arms stand on end. She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and downed half of it in one long chug. Only then did she notice Cassie’s scowl. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Stupid spell didn’t work.” Irritation showed on the witch’s face as she poured her latest concoction down the drain. “On the bright side, I think it’s safe to say this guy wasn’t targeted by anyone local.”
The kitchen counter was littered with ingredients commonly employed for defensive magic. Some Marlena recognized: basil, agrimony, pawpaw, cayenne, patchouli, vetivert, and wormwood. A few she didn’t. From the looks of it, Cassie was attempting to remove the negative magic from Dmitri’s associate and turn the evil back on its rightful owner.
With a sigh, Cassie set the empty pot in the sink and twisted the faucet, testing the water with her finger every few seconds to see if the temperature had warmed. “So far, I’ve only used half of the hair, but I called Dmitri for more just in case.”
“Great.” She so didn’t want to see Dmitri again. She’d known the reaper for about forty years, but until yesterday, she hadn’t seen him since the time he’d helped her and Cassie deal with a troublesome warlock. Technically, they still owed him a favor, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
“You need to wipe that look off your face,” Cassie warned.
“What look?”
“The one you get when you want to rip someone’s lungs out. You know as well as I do it wasn’t his fault.”
Marlena’s jaw tightened, her mama bear instincts bubbling to the surface. “You were young and naïve.”
“I was thirty-two, and I damn well knew what I was doing.” Cassie squared her shoulders, a bottle of dishwashing detergent in her right hand and an expression that brooked no argument. “We were both consenting adults, and he tried his best not to hurt me. It’s not your business to judge.”
“Fair enough.” No, it wasn’t. Cassie meant the world to her, which meant she had every right to judge the bastard. He should have known that Cassie would fall in love with him and that he was incapable of returning the sentiment. If given the chance, Marlena wouldn’t think twice about making him pay for hurting her baby girl.
“I don’t have enough pawpaw to make the next batch,” Cassie said as she put the pot in the sink to soak. “Think you could get me some?”
Deciding it was best to let Cassie change the subject, Marlena jammed her hands in her pockets. “It shouldn’t be a problem.” Last time she checked, the cow pasture out by the expressway still had a small patch of the native shrubs. Once you knew what to look for, they were easy to find; just look for lots of flies and a slight carrion odor. “Flowers or fruit?”
“Both, and as much as you can find. I can always freeze what I don’t use.” She turned off the spigot before tugging on a pair of yellow rubber gloves. “That new reaper—what was his name? Oh wait, I remember. It was Adam. Anyway, he should be by any time now with the hair.”
Marlena blew out a heavy sigh. She wasn’t in the mood for her daughter’s matchmaking. “Cassie …”
“What?” The witch shot her a wide-eyed, innocent look. “I called Dmitri, and he said he’d send Adam.”
“Was that before or after you asked him to?”
Cassie chuckled. “Just trying to help you out, Mama.”
Before she could argue the merits of Cassie’s “help,” the front doorbell chimed.
“Don’t even think about slinking out the garage door,” Cassie said as she grabbed a sponge and started scrubbing the pot. Glancing up, she flashed a sweet smile. “Now be a dear and answer the door, will you?”
“Meddling witch,” Marlena muttered under her breath. She should have known better than to tell Cassie about her connection to the reaper. Because now that she knew, the woman would do everything in her power to throw them together. Not that Marlena was totally against the idea, but she wanted to move on her own timetable and didn’t appreciate the unwelcome interference.
And to be honest, she was more than a little nervous. Yes, he’d come back, but he’d come back different. He looked different, smelled different. Acted different. And he obviously had no recollection of their previous life together. Hell, the only reason she’d recognized him was from the way her soul called out to his. Although, to be fair, over the space of four centuries she’d changed quite a bit as well. What if both of them had changed so much they no longer made a good match? Losing him the first time was devastating enough; having it happen again would probably destroy her.
Ignoring the aching pain in her heart, Marlena crossed the foyer. She went up on her tiptoes to check the peephole before yanking the front door open. Adam stood on the other side, his shoulder leaning against the jamb and his legs crossed at the ankles. Her pulse kicked up a notch or two, and the mate bond sparked in her blood.
Damn, the man looked incredible. He had a handsome face and warm brown eyes that glinted with a hint of humor. The jeans he wore were faded at the stress points and molded to his body in all the right places. Long, lean muscles were clearly visible beneath the fabric of his forest green shirt. A pair of sunglasses hung fr
om the collar, and his short dark hair was a little windblown. He smiled, his expression so relaxed and confident it made her temper flare.
“What did you do to my memory?” she blurted out.
There. That wiped the smugness from his face. “Excuse me?”
One side of her mouth curved up. “You heard me, reaper. And don’t insult my intelligence by denying it.”
Now he seemed genuinely perplexed. “How do you—you’re not supposed to—”
“Well, I do.” She folded her arms across her chest as the edge of her temper subsided. It was hard to stay upset with him when he stared at her like that. “Thank you, by the way, for saving my life. I don’t think I got the chance to say it before.”
“You didn’t. And you’re welcome.” His expression grew deadly serious. “I couldn’t leave that house without giving you a chance, but I also couldn’t risk you telling anyone about me, which is why I …” He made a vague gesture with his hands.
“Screwed with my head?” Marlena offered.
“Yeah. That.” He coughed into his fist. “You shouldn’t have any memory of me being there.” She hadn’t noticed his accent before, but now she picked up a faint trace of Chicago in his voice.
“I didn’t, not at first.” Over the years, she’d heard rumors about reapers being able to manipulate minds. Dmitri had refused to confirm or deny them, but now she knew they were true. Her curious side wanted to know how it was done, but she doubted he’d be willing to share. Maybe later, after they knew each other better, she could talk him into spilling trade secrets.
She opened the door a little wider and motioned for him to come inside. “I take it you brought the ingredient Cassie requested?”
“Ingredient?” His dark eyebrows knitted together, but then a lightbulb must have gone off inside his head because his expression completely changed and a lazy smile curled his lips. “Oh, yeah. Right.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a sandwich bag filled with clumps of short brown hair. “Here you go. I hope this does the trick. If you need any more, I might have to shave his head.”