My sister was wearing a white summer dress—cut well above the knee, of course—with a black leather bag slung over her shoulder and simple black heels that, naturally, complemented the outfit perfectly. Not practical for the beach, but such mere trivialities had never gotten in the way of her fashion sense. Besides, I’d never seen someone so adept on heels. It was a rare skill indeed, one that clearly wasn’t genetic. I wore sneakers for a reason.
A faint breeze brought her familiar smell—subtle, hints of vanilla shampoo and little else—which brought back a wave of nostalgic memories. I tamped down the memory floodgates and instead focused on the other thing on my tongue: her soul. It wasn’t as damaged as I’d worried, hadn’t been corrupted beyond repair. Hints of the party-girl and social butterfly remained. But she had lost her way and that had left a mark. Whether that was permanent, or could be fixed with time, like Kai’s, remained to be seen.
I noticed that she still wore the silver pendant that matched my own. She glanced up but didn’t say anything. I wondered if she, too, was sizing me up, feeling the changes the last four years had brought on. Neither did I until I was a few feet away.
She looked over her shoulder, at the winding stairs, “Not bad, E.”
“It’s all right.”
“You could use a carpet or something.”
I raised my eyebrow. Her big blue eyes looked back at me—those big blue eyes I’d seen take down just about every guy in her path, much to my teenage annoyance and jealousy—with a look like come on.
“You broke in.”
“That’s barely even a lock.” Yes, only to her did two locks and a deadbolt qualify as pitiful security. I understood what the bouncer had meant by psycho. She had always played by her own rules, pulling the occasional batshit stunt just because. And most everyone just forgave her after she batter her eyelashes a couple times and turned on the fake waterworks.
“How’d Khan take your unannounced visit?”
“Ooh, he’s a sweetie.”
I wondered if I’d somehow acquired another cat and not noticed. “The one with the white stripe that makes him look like a skunk?”
“I patted him on the belly and he purred the whole time.”
Sierra even had the magic touch when it came to ornery animals. Either that, or she was lying, and Khan had tried to decapitate her. I mulled it over and shrugged. Everyone loved her. That was her gift.
She leaned back against the marble staircase, wind blowing through her hair like she was on one of those shampoo commercials. “So I guess I have you to thank for ripping me off.”
I might have stolen a few souls from her in a little scam earlier in the week. Before I’d known the rival Reaper was my little sister. “Well, you almost got me killed, so that should about make us even.”
A flash of her perfect smile came, then it was gone. “So, who’s the guy?”
“What guy?”
“The hot one.” She puckered her full lips, which were covered in her trademark pink lip gloss. “Like, really hot.”
“Dante?” I rolled my eyes, even if she had a point. “I call him the jackass who almost got me killed.”
“Speaking of which.” Sierra rose with effortless elegance, and her heart-shaped chin puckered into a scowl. “What the fuck, E?”
Her hand shot into the bag and retrieved a piece of paper. She balled it up and threw it at me. I didn’t really need to pick it up to see what this was about.
“I take it Lucille paid you a visit.”
“You signed me up to be that bitch’s servant.” Sierra wrinkled her nose. “Not cool.”
“I don’t suppose the goddess explained how that arrangement came about, did she?”
“Goddess?” Sierra looked at me like I was insane.
Yes, I suppose a fair amount of backstory was necessary. I gestured up the winding marble stairs. “I hope you like shitty coffee.”
“Why’s that, E?”
“Because we have a lot of lost time to make up for.” I walked past, then paused. Turning around, I clasped her in my arms and whispered, “Don’t you ever die on me again.”
I felt her nod, and the little hitch in her breath as she tried to keep the tears from flowing. Me? That was nothing but the dry breeze irritating my eyes. If anyone tells you otherwise, they’re running a con.
“E?” she finally said in a small voice, like when we were kids and she would ask me about something she didn’t understand.
“Yeah?” I released her and stepped back.
“Could you, I don’t know…” Sierra winced slightly. “Maybe take a shower before we talk?”
“Been looking forward to it since yesterday,” I said.
Guess I would have to take that as a thank you.
But I didn’t need thanks.
Having her back for good was its own reward.
And made paradise just a little more bearable.
Until we both escaped for good.
THE END
Rain Dance (Sunshine & Scythes Book 1) Page 28