“So that’s what it’s like to have a life, huh?” he teased with his gorgeous smile. “Maybe some time you could teach me how to cook. Anything has to be better than those veggie burgers and fruit cocktail cups in the hospital cafeteria.”
“First off, veggie burgers? Don’t even use the word burger and veggie in the same sentence. Second, why not leave the hospital long enough to take some cooking classes? Maybe make some friends?” she responded evasively.
He nodded his head, his dark hair, no longer slicked back from his face, grazing his sharp chin. “Oh, right. I forgot. You have plenty of friends. My bad.”
“That I do—”
“Hey, Reaper?” Nina bellowed from the doorway.
Phew. Saved by the violent vampire. “Yeah?” she yelled back.
“There’s someone downstairs who says he’s your father. First, do you have a father? Second, if you don’t, you want I should fucking rip his legs off and shove them down his throat?”
Her father? Here? Like, in the same space?
Hello. Unexpected plot twist in the house.
Chapter 9
Rocky raced down the stairs, her body one big, upright ache, but that didn’t stop her. If her father was here, it meant he knew what she was up to. And the only person who could have given her up was Pepper. She was the only person who’d known what her intentions were.
She was going to kill Pepper—if her father didn’t kill her first.
As she came to a screeching halt at the bottom of the stairs, she caught a glimpse of herself in the wide entryway mirror, and it wasn’t pretty.
Her hair, which had been up in a messy bun on the top of her head, fell sideways, long strands flying about her face. Her eyeball was an interesting shade of dark purple and near black, bulging out at her reflection like a neon sign. She had a split lip, a cut on her cheek, and a smattering of blood across the arm of her sweatshirt.
So seeing as there’d be no hiding her condition, she greeted her father with extra exuberance.
“Daddy! What are you doing here?” she asked cheerfully, racing up to him and throwing her arms around his neck.
Clinton McNally gave her a quick pat on her back before removing her clingy arms from around his neck. Knowing he wasn’t one for public displays of affection (or even private displays of affection), she expected nothing less from her distant, super-conservative parent, but it had been worth the attempt at distraction anyway.
Salt-and-pepper hair in a military cut, her tall, lean father looked down at her with disapproval all over his equally lean face. And he looked none too happy.
Not that he ever looked happy—about anything—but most especially not about his darling daughter.
To anyone else, he probably looked pretty calm, but Rocky knew better. On the inside, he was piping hot.
“Roxanne, the car’s outside and running. Gather your things and that mutt of yours. It’s time for you to go home.”
She heard rather than saw everyone gather on the staircase, by the pitter-patter of their feet, and her face went hot and red.
She knew before her attempt to reason with him, her efforts would be futile, but in order to save face, she tried anyway, because it was goddamned humiliating to have your father order you around when you were countless centuries old in front a bunch of people who took no shit from anyone.
Gripping his arm, she gave it a squeeze and smiled at him. “Daddy, why don’t you come in for a minute? Maybe have a cup of tea with me while I explain?”
Clinton shook her off his down jacket, bristling at her touch before he set her in front of him, his eyes ablaze with anger. “You heard me, Roxanne. We’ll talk about what you’re doing and why you’re here in the car. Now, don’t make me say it again. Gather your things,” he said through a clenched jaw.
For all the times he’d been curt with her, for all the hugs she’d missed as a kid, she’d always fought hard not to hold a grudge. She accepted him for who he was. A stern, unaffectionate, almost always angry man, and she’d found a way to work around it for a very long time. She’d skirted the edges of his life as an adult, she kept all her visits to a brief hour, she tried to respect who he was as a person, even though he was an unforgiving, critical man.
But not this time.
This time was far too important to her. Keeping Marty from soul collection was far too important, and she wasn’t giving in to his demands. Just this one time, that little voice in her head deserved to be heard.
So she gazed at him, her eyes determined when they locked with his icy ones. “No.”
Clinton looked at her as though she’d slapped him, his expression so shocked.
Pulling his driving gloves off, he stuffed them into the pocket of his navy down jacket and glared at her for all he was worth. That glare meant she was due for a seething lecture the minute her ass hit the passenger seat of his car.
With one long finger, he pointed to the door as though she hadn’t heard him the first time. “Get in the car, Roxanne McNally.”
“No,” she whispered in defiance. “I won’t get in the car.” She said those words a little louder. “I’m not a teenager, and I haven’t been for many centuries, Dad. I will not get in the car, and I am not leaving.”
If looks could kill, her handsome, military-esque father would have killed her with the one he gave her. His green eyes flashed all sorts of warnings she promptly ignored. “How dare you speak to me like this, Roxanne!”
Suddenly, Hudson was there, holding out a hand to Clinton. “Sir? I’m Hudson Khalil. Dr. Hudson Khalil. Rocky and I work together. It’s pretty cold out. Why don’t you come into the kitchen and have something warm to drink? Maybe we can all sit down and—”
Clinton refused his hand. Instead, he intensified his glare, only now it was directed at Hudson. “I don’t care who you are. I’m here to keep my daughter out of more trouble. Do not interfere in family matters, do you understand me, young man?”
She saw Hudson’s nostrils flare and knew she had to prevent him from getting involved. Her dad and an argument were no-win. She didn’t want Hudson tangled up in that.
Rocky stepped between them, placing a hand on Hudson’s chest. “It’s okay. Please. Let me handle this, Hudson,” she pleaded before turning to her father. “Daddy? If you don’t want to have a rational conversation, go home before we both say things we don’t mean. I’m not leaving. I’m not a kid you can order around anymore. Now, if you want to talk like adults—which I’ll remind you again, is what I am—then let’s do it. If not? Go. Home.”
“You’ll live to regret this, Roxanne,” he seethed, yanking his gloves from the pockets of his jacket and stuffing his salt-and-pepper hair under his knit hat with angry hands,
“Will I live to regret doing the right thing? Or will you just live to regret having a daughter so willful she embarrasses you? Because that’s what this visit feels like. Instead of being proud of me for taking a stand against something wrong—and you know it’s wrong—you want me to fall back in line. Well, I have news for you, I won’t do it!” she spat back, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “No, go home.”
Clinton inhaled, his lean chest expanding under his coat. “You’re breaking all the rules, Roxanne. You know I can’t help you if you’re being disobedient, and what you’re doing here with these people, with this soul you should have long-ago collected—and believe me, I know exactly what you’re doing here with this soul and these people—is the biggest rule-breaking ever!” he accused, his voice rising to the level that meant she was in serious reaper trouble.
Squaring her shoulders, Rocky lifted her chin even as it pained her to do so. “What I’m doing is right. What’s happening to Marty is wrong, Daddy. Dead wrong, and I won’t let you try to stop me. So you can tattle on me to my superiors, you can out me all you like, but I’m here to tell you, for once in my godforsaken life, I’m going to fight to the death to keep this reap—Marty’s reap—from happening. Count on it.”
“I
don’t have to tattle on you, Roxanne,” Clinton chided. “Word is already out amongst us, and it won’t be long before our superiors get wind of the fact that you haven’t handed over a soul. I can’t believe it hasn’t already! But you know what can happen when they find out. If you take the soul now, maybe we can salvage this.”
Her heart clanged against her ribs as she hobbled closer to him, staring up into his face. “Who told you I was here, Daddy? How did you find me? Was it Pepper?”
“Wait!” Nina shouted, hopping down the stairs in her red flannel footy pajamas. “Let’s try and fucking work this out. Seriously, kiddo, how much trouble can you get into if you do this? We should have asked, but I was so damn worried about Marty, I didn’t think about how the fuck this could affect you. So, what’re we looking at, kiddo?”
Rocky swallowed a gulp of nervous fear, wrapping her arms around her waist, but her father answered the question for her.
Clinton, only a couple of inches taller than Nina, scowled at her. “She could be shunned, young lady. Shunned forever! Dropped off on some vacant plane to roam eternity alone!”
Nina was about to protest, her surprise at what Rocky was sacrificing clear, but Rocky stopped her.
“Stop! I don’t care, Daddy! I hate reaping, and I always have! I don’t care if I never take another soul across ever again! But you know what I hate about reaping the most? Taking a soul that should never have been on the list in the first place with no one to make it right—and I won’t do it again! Do you hear me? I won’t do it!”
Nina’s dark eyes went soft as she looked to Clinton. “Your kid’s a good egg, dude. Come inside and talk to us. Let’s work this out.”
Clinton’s eyes roamed over Nina’s face, probably aghast she’d dare speak to him, let alone use crude language. “I don’t know who you are, but this is a family matter. Plainly speaking, it’s none of your business, Miss…?”
“It’s just fucking Nina, Pops, and it is our business because your kid’s doing something awesome, and if you can’t see that with our own damn eyes, then maybe hittin’ the bricks is the right fucking thing for you to do.” She walked to the door and threw it open, the cold wind pouring inside, bringing with it a pile of dead leaves and some stray flakes of snow.
Clinton gave Rocky one last long glare, his eyes shooting her a million angry messages, before he stomped out the door. “You’ve been warned, Roxanne. You’ve been warned!” he bellowed into the wind.
Nina slammed the door shut behind him and instantly turned to her, holding out her arms.
Rocky went into them wordlessly, realizing she’d not only defied her father, but likely run him out of her life forever. And that hurt. It hurt bad. They were all they had.
As she pressed her face to Nina’s shoulder, she allowed herself some long-overdue tears. Hot, salty droplets fell to Nina’s pajama shirt with watery plops.
And then Wanda was beside her, rubbing her back and giving her a squeeze of reassurance, pushing her tangled hair from her face. “C’mon, honey. Let’s go get some warm tea and talk, okay?”
This kind of acceptance was what she’d wanted all her life. How funny that she’d found it with total strangers instead of the person who was supposed to love her the most.
Carl snuck up behind them and thumped her on the shoulder. “Teeaa,” he reminded in his slow slur.
As she let them lead her into the kitchen, and Darnell pulled out a chair, wrapping his big arm around her for a quick cuddle against his squishy body, she felt incredible peace and gratitude.
If nothing else, doing what she was doing was out in the open now. Not that it would stop her. In fact, it fueled her desire to set things right, and that allowed her to breathe a little easier.
But she was most grateful for these people, who, just by existing, had given her new life goals. If she had to live for an eternity, she wanted to do it with people like this. That meant it was time for a life overhaul.
When all this was over, she planned to Marie Kondo her entire life and only keep what sparked joy.
The next day, Rocky was more than ready to start looking into some of the things she’d been chewing on since her father’s uninvited visit. Most importantly, Dr. Valentine.
As gruff and awful as he could be, no one should be alone when they were as sick as he was. She was going to make it her mission to check on him from time to time.
Hudson sat with her at the kitchen table as she scrolled her laptop and everyone else spent some time with Wanda’s sister, Casey, who was upstairs chatting with Marty. When she’d tiptoed out of the sitting room to grab some lunch, she’d left them giggling and reminiscing about Casey’s accidental turning so long ago.
As she’d made a sandwich and grabbed some Cheerios for Charlie, Rocky had smiled after hearing about how happy Casey was with her mate, Clay, after dealing with demons and a trip to Hell.
There was nothing she enjoyed as much as a good OOPS tale, especially from the mouth of the women of OOPS.
“So what are we looking for exactly?” Hudson asked, taking a sip of his coffee and a bite of the delicious chicken salad Arch had made earlier that morning.
Bouncing Charlie on her knee, Rocky rubbed noses with the baby, who grabbed at her hair with chubby fists. She’d offered to take her from Nina so she could visit with Casey, and she found herself enjoying her time with the tiny vampire/genie.
As the baby gnawed on a teething ring, Rocky nuzzled her cheek and shook her head. “I don’t know. Nothing in particular, I guess. I’m just surfing. Sometimes it helps clear my head. I don’t know anything about witches or spells, and if Calamity doesn’t know anything about a spell like that, and she’s a familiar, it’s not looking good for a novice like me. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“Maybe it was a djinn,” Hudson suggested. “Jeannie said anything was possible, right?”
Rocky wrinkled her nose. Jeannie had said that, but she’d also said it didn’t “feel” like a djinn spell.
“Maybe. Either way, we still don’t have a motive for wanting Marty on that list. That’s not going to help us to identify who put her there. Unless it’s just a cosmic mistake. But that’s why I’m here. To prevent anyone from collecting her soul until we know for sure.”
While Hudson chewed on his sandwich, Rocky fought to keep her eyes on the laptop screen. Their conversation before the mess with Dr. Valentine had rattled her a little. She didn’t want to like him all over again. She already knew she’d liked him enough before, but the time they’d spent together here at Marty’s only reinforced her attraction to him.
She liked him enough that his memory had stayed with her for centuries, but she was already breaking enough rules saving Marty. She didn’t even want to know what the punishment for dating outside her kind involved. She didn’t want to know what could happen to him if anyone found out about it, either.
“So your father,” he began, wiping his mouth with a napkin, his eyes thoughtful.
Her heart twisted in a knot at the mention of her dad. “Ah, yes. Taskmaster McNally. What about him?”
“When you go back home, how much trouble are you looking at for not reaping Marty’s soul?”
“I already told you, it could be I’ll end up shunned or the reaper’s version of imprisonment. In other words, left on a deserted plane all alone.” She fought an outward cringe over the word in order to put on a brave face, but that was the truth of it.
“Do you think your father’s going to give you up to your superiors? Would he really do that? I don’t know a lot about family, but all the television and movies I’ve watched suggests a parent wouldn’t do that.”
Would her father do that? He was a hardcore badass, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure he’d hand her over. He liked rules and order, but to give her up and tell her superiors where she was? She couldn’t say for sure.
She looked down at the surface of the table. “I’d like to say no, but after last night, I don’t know. I do know someone�
�s alarm bells are going to be set off if I don’t hand over a soul sometime soon. It’s been over a month now. It won’t be long until they come find me, throw me in a two-by-four and send someone else to collect Marty’s soul…unless she wakes up or we figure out who put her on the list.”
Just then, Archibald trudged into the kitchen with Nina hot on his heels, snow covering his galoshes and his pants.
“Arch, I told you I’d shovel the pathway,” Nina groused at him, her pale face annoyed. “You’re gonna give yourself a goddamn heart attack lifting all that heavy snow. There are plenty of us here to help you.”
He blew out a breath of obvious aggravation. “Mistress Nina, I’m not disabled, fair maiden. Nor am I ever too old to make snow angels with Mistress Hollis. I happened to see the path was covered as we frolicked, thus I did what any good manservant would do and took matters into my own hands. You all tend to Miss Marty, and I’ll handle the rest,” he blustered.
Nina laughed at his indignation, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and brushing the snow from his wisp of hair. “Oh, pipe down, Manservant. I’m not picking on your damn age. I’m speaking the truth, and I’m just telling you we need you to cook more than we need the pathway cleared. It takes me two seconds to get ’er done.” She paused a moment and plucked something from his back.
Nina held it up, the item gleaming under the kitchen lights…and that was when her whole body began to shake, each muscle tight in some invisible grip. “What the hell do you have stuck—”
And then she froze on the spot, her eyes widening before she clutched the item in the ball of her fist, her knuckles going white.
Rocky rose from her seat as Hudson ran to her, a hint of alarm in his tone. “Nina? What’s happening?”
Her fist shook as she appeared to struggle to hold up whatever was in her hand. Her jaw clenched, the muscles in her lean, beautiful face pushing at her skin.
“Miss Nina!” Arch reached up and cupped her chin in alarm. “What’s happening?”
Marty's Horrible, Terrible, Very Bad Day Page 10