Reaper Unexpected: Deadside Reapers book 1

by Cassidy, Debbie

  I took a steadying breath. “Look, I’m sorry. This is all a bit much, and I get it, you’re doing your best to acclimatize me. It’s just that … I’m not a reaper, I’m an allocation agent for Soul Savers Inc. I process ghosts in admin.” I widened my eyes. “Admin is my jam. Not kick-assery.” I waved my hands in the air in what I hoped passed for ninja moves.

  “You’re more than that, Seraphina.” His voice was a delicious rumble that made my nape tingle and the panic ebb a little.

  “Look, please, call me Fee.”

  He smiled, and his eyes lit up with warmth. “Fee, I know this is frightening, overwhelming, crazy, but it’s happening, and you can’t run away from it.” He canted his head. “In fact, if you stop and feel, if you reach down inside yourself, you’ll realize running is the last thing you want to do.”

  I did as he asked and stopped. Just fucking stopped stressing and took a slow breath. The questions, the urgency melted. He was right. Beneath the throw-your-hands-in-the-air panic was a calm acceptance of what had happened and what needed to happen. There was a part of me already coming to terms with my situation.

  “It’s why you’re not scared,” Conah continued. “It’s why you didn’t run …” He shrugged. “I would even go as far as to suggest you were drawn to Peiter.” His brows shot up. “Maybe it was why the mouth went after you? Reaper flesh is a delicacy to them. You have the scythe, and you should learn what that means. Let me teach you.”

  The fight rushed out of me, and exhaustion made my limbs weak. I slumped into the nearest seat. “Maybe you’re right.”

  He crouched in front of me, his huge body still dwarfing mine, and locked gazes with me. His sapphire eyes were pools of understanding, deep and serene and safe. I resisted the urge to lean into him.

  “Get some rest,” he said. “I’ve summoned the others, but it could be some time before they get here.”

  “My flatmate will worry …” But the words sounded weak to my ears.

  “Just a few hours,” he said softly. “I promise I’ll take you home myself once we’ve spoken to the others. You can grab some personal items then.”

  I didn’t have the energy to argue with him right now. My eyes were drooping, and I needed to lie down.

  “The adrenaline is wearing off,” Conah said.

  My eyes fluttered closed, and I felt the light caress of his fingers on my cheek.

  “It’s all right, I’ve got you, I’ve—”

  But I was already gone.

  Chapter Nine

  I opened my eyes to a set of cold emerald ones framed in thick dark lashes set in a face that was coolly detached as it studied me.

  “Shit.” I jerked away from the man.

  His smirk was cruel and cutting. “So, you’re the new reaper. The one who took Peiter’s scythe.”

  He said it like an accusation. Like I’d pried the scythe from a dying Peiter’s hand.

  My ire rose. “I didn’t take it. It was given to me.”

  He stood and looked down at me, and I noticed his state of partial undress for the first time. His shirt was open, exposing way too much naked taut flesh, and his joggers were hung too low, revealing the tantalizing V at his hips. He had the kind of body that made you want to slip and slide against it. The kind of body you know would fit just right between your thighs.

  “Fucking hell, she’s checking me out.” He chuckled softly. “At least we know she has taste.”

  I bit the insides of my cheeks and glared up at him. “Not checking you out. Just wondering how your pants are defying gravity.”

  He leaned in, and his fresh citrus scent tickled my senses. “You wish they’d fail, don’t you?”

  His voice echoed through my head. “You wish you could touch me. Taste me.”

  Oh, fuck. Yes. Yes, I wanted to lick that V and—

  “Mal!” Conah snapped. “Stop fucking around.”

  Mal stood with a snort, and his expression morphed from seductive to icy again. “This is what we have to work with?”

  What the fuck had just happened. My cheeks burned, and my body was thrumming with desire. I blinked to clear my head and focused on this Mal guy.

  “We’re saddled with this?” He jerked a thumb my way.

  Okay, so I’d made a case against being suitable for the job not too long ago, but to hear someone else point it out, and so rudely. Hell, no.

  I sat up and glared at the emerald-eyed twit. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Mal, please.” Conah sounded fed up.

  He was standing by the hearth, which was now sporting an impressive fire, but I didn’t give him more than a fleeting glance. My attention was commanded by the newcomer, the rude, arrogant newcomer.

  Mal rolled his eyes dismissively and turned to Conah. “Have you looked at her? I mean, aside from the pretty face. Those hips and that ass are made for the bedroom, not for chasing down mouths, or in most cases, running away from them. She won’t last a minute out there on the beat.”

  Wait, had he just called me a fat ass? Heat traveled up my neck and stained my cheeks.

  “We can train her,” Conah said calmly.

  “To what? Avoid carbs? Fucking hell, Conah, this is nuts. She can’t be one of us, just look at her.”

  He gestured toward me, throwing a derisive glance my way, but I was already on my feet, hands planted on my hips, choice words on my lips.

  “Save it, silver,” Mal said. “I know what you’re going to say. How dare I insult your feminine body? I have no right to put you down, blah blah blah. Hell, for all I know, you might never have touched a carb in your life, but none of that fucking matters. Nothing matters but you being able to haul that curvy ass of yours around the city, leap buildings, and fly if need be.” He shook his head. “Hell, you don’t even have wings, do you?”

  “Neither do I,” Conah bit out, “and I’ve managed fine.”

  “But you don’t have her ass,” Mal whined. “Urgh, no. I’m out.”

  “What?” Conah blinked at him in surprise.

  Mal shrugged. “If Peiter was dumb enough to get himself killed, and if the fucking celestial powers are dumb enough to give us that as a replacement …” He waved a dismissive hand in my direction. “Then, I’m out. You want to train her then be my guest. I have better things to do.”

  “Like what?” Conah demanded. “Hmmm, what is it you have to do? While away the time until the next sweep and drop? Lock yourself in your quarters with your conquests?”

  Mal shrugged, unfazed. “Maybe.” He looked across at me and smiled a lopsided cocky smile. “Or maybe I’ll just take our newbie for a spin, help her work off some of that cushioning.”

  Conah moved so fast he was a blur, and then Mal was slammed up against the wall with Conah’s arm at his throat.

  “Have some fucking respect.” Conah’s tone was lethally low.

  Mal chuckled. “Oh, dear. Careful, brother, we wouldn’t want you developing a soft spot for the curvy reaper, would we?”

  Conah released him with a growl of frustration. “What is wrong with you? Our brother is dead, and the people that killed him are out there. They have a weapon that can kill a reaper. We have to do something.”

  “No. We don’t.” Mal spat the words like they were poisonous. “They have a weapon that can kill a reaper, so we stay as far away from them as possible. Peiter fucked up. He went out solo, chasing a fake lead, and got killed. I don’t intend to make the same mistake.” He looked from me to Conah. “If you go looking for trouble, more often than not, you find it. I told him that, and he didn’t listen, so fuck him. His quest for vengeance got him killed, and I’m not going to make the same mistake.” He patted Conah’s shoulder. “Take my advice and let it go. Whoever these hooded figures are, they got lucky with Peiter. Don’t let them get lucky with you.”

  Conah scanned his face. “You mean it. You really aren’t going to help, are you?”

  “What can I say, Con, I just don’t give a shit.” He smiled. �
�But maybe Azazel will help, once he gets back from his bicentennial trip, that is.” He patted Conah on the shoulder.

  Conah’s lip curled in disgust. “Get out. Just get the fuck out.”

  Mal held out his hands. “Have fun, silver.” He dropped me a wink and then sauntered from the room.

  “We were waiting for that?” I shook my head. “Seriously?”

  Conah poured himself a drink and downed it. “Mal can be … unpredictable. But he’s a Dominus, and he had a right to know about you and …” He trailed off with a sigh.

  “I thought the scythes picked the worthy.”

  “Mal is … Mal.”

  “He doesn’t seem too cut up about Peiter.”

  Conah’s smile was wry. “Mal grieves in his own way, and it’s never pretty.”

  But it left Conah working solo to find the hooded figures that killed his brother. Mal was a dick, but he was right about one thing—if Conah went after these hooded figures, he could get himself killed. I couldn’t let that happen. Someone had to have his back in this because Conah was right too—we needed to find that weapon.

  Fuck it. “I want to help you.”

  Conah set his glass down. “You do?”

  “Yes. We need to find the people who did this and get that dagger off them. You can’t do it alone, or you could end up like Peiter.” I held up my hands. “I know I’m not much in terms of kick-assery—”

  “Yet,” Conah added. “You’re not much in terms of kick-assery yet.”

  I smiled. “Yet. But I have my own set of skills.”

  A small smile played on his lips, and the flutters in my stomach grew.

  “And what are these skills?”

  “Well … I can get people to open up by making them feel at ease, I have excellent intuition, and I’m great at solving mysteries—when not intoxicated.” I added the disclaimer quickly.

  He rolled his lips into his mouth as if staunching a smile.

  “You can train me while we investigate.”

  He finally released his smile, slow-burn and beautiful. “Thank you, Seraphina.”

  “Fee,” I reminded him.

  “Fee, but the training has to come first. We won’t be going after these hooded figures until I’m satisfied you can handle yourself.”

  All reservations aside, this could be good for me. Heck, the whole scythe choosing me had to be a mistake. A default action in a bad situation. A way to stay out of the wrong hands. But while we waited for the powers that be to figure it out, I’d be useful. I’d help catch the bad guys.

  It was as if a weight lifted off my shoulders, and I stood taller. “I’m a quick learner. But first, you need to take me home so I can grab some stuff and speak to my flat-mate.”

  “A deal is a deal,” he agreed.

  Cora was so going to kick my ass over this.

  Chapter Ten

  When we left the reaper quarters in the Underealm, the sky outside the tower windows had been dark, but it was almost midday in Necro City. I guess time worked differently in the Underealm. My head was still a little fuzzy from the trip back. Conah had the ability to do little teleport jumps. We’d jumped to the bridge and then jumped into an alley between a pizza place and a Chinese restaurant. The smells were both intoxicating and nauseating.

  I guess the teleportation was his compensation for not having wings. I’d need to ask him about it at some point to be sure. Right now, he was in withdrawn mode. He’d taken my address and hadn’t spoken since. His whole aura was back off, or maybe I was imagining things. Maybe I was reading too much into his silence. He led the way toward the center of town, walking briskly but not too fast as to leave me behind. Thank goodness for my long legs and long stride. It wasn’t so hard to keep up with him.

  He’d changed into casual clothes. Jeans, a knitted sweatshirt, and leather jacket. I got that he was attempting to blend in and look human, but he’d have to alter his gorgeous face and his muscular form to achieve that goal. Me, on the other hand, I needed a change of clothes stat. My clubbing outfit screamed walk of shame, and once we hit the center of Necro City, we began to draw looks. Women ogled Conah and then shot me envious glances, and guys steered their girlfriends away from us.

  By the time we hit the underground train station, it was a relief to melt into the anonymity of the crowd. Passengers here were totally focused on getting from A to B, and no one seemed interested in a woman with just-got-out-of-bed hair and sparkly sandals paired with figure-hugging jeans. My blood-crusted cami was hidden beneath my jacket, thank God.

  I caught sight of several ghosts chilling on a bench, chatting away. The underground was a favorite haunt for spirits. They liked to congregate here on their breaks or when they got off from work. After three a.m. was the only time I’d ever seen the underground dead.

  A surge of bodies separated me from Conah. Shit, where was he? And then a hand clasped mine, warm and reassuring. Conah tugged me through the knit of people and fixed me firmly to his side with an arm around my waist. His hand burned a brand on my hip, and my stomach did a dirty flip. Breathe, Fee.

  Conah didn’t let go of me until we were on the train. I grabbed hold of a pole to steady myself as the train lurched into motion. No seats. Typical. I braced myself for the ride, clinging to the pole, gaze fixed on the hollow of Conah’s throat. It was a nice hollow, a perfect dip. He stood facing me, gripping the pole with one hand above my head. Our bodies were close, but not too close. Just as well because I was discovering how sexy the scent of leather could be, especially when it was wafting off a golden-haired reaper with piercing blue eyes. The aroma mingled with that awesome cotton-fresh smell of newly washed linen.

  Someone nudged my back hard enough to throw me against Conah’s chest. Electricity jolted through me, and my head jerked up to lock eyes with him.

  His gaze was probing, intense. A lump formed in my throat, and my mouth decided to do its Sahara impression.

  I swallowed the lump and peeled my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “Sorry.”

  The corner of his mouth curled up slightly, and his gaze softened, melting my insides into wanton goo.

  The train came to a shuddering stop.

  “We’re here,” Conah said.

  And not a moment too soon. Any longer and I might have been tempted to lick his face.

  * * *

  Cora stared at me like I’d grown an extra head and asked her to dance.

  “What the fuck?” She looked at Conah, then tore her gaze back to me. “What the hell?”

  “Um … Conah, can I have a minute?”

  He was staring at Cora as if he’d seen, well, a ghost.

  She stared right back.

  He looked from me to Cora. “This is your flat-mate?”

  “Did I neglect to mention she was a ghost?”

  He blinked slowly. “I’ll give you both a moment.” He walked into the lounge, leaving us in the foyer.

  Cora watched him go and then turned to me with wide eyes. “That’s a fucking reaper.”

  I winced. “I know. Things happened last night.”

  “Things that had you staying out all night with a reaper?”

  “He’s a Dominus.”

  She staggered toward the staircase and grabbed hold of the balustrade to steady herself. She wasn’t faking. If ghosts could look pale, then she’d be positively pasty.

  “Fee, what the—”

  “Hell? I know.” I walked over to the steps and sat down. “Last night, on the way home from the club, I decided to slip into hero mode.”

  “Fee, no, we’ve discussed this.”

  I nodded solemnly. “I know, I know, but it happened.”

  I started at the encounter with the mouth and ended with my encounter with Mal. Cora listened without a single interruption, which was a first.

  “So, that’s why I have to help Conah.”

  “That and the fact that he’s smoking hot.”

  “Cora!” My cheeks burned, and I was not a blusher.

&
nbsp; “Also …” She held up an index finger, studying me through narrow eyes. “You’re one of them.” Her expression was wary as if she expected me to whip out my scythe, sprout wings, and claim her soul.

  “Cora, I’m still me, and to be honest, all this … I doubt it’ll last. They’ll figure out it’s a mistake, and then the scythe will choose someone worthier, and I’ll be back home before you know it.”

  “That’s just it,” Cora said. “I don’t think it will.” She gave me a you-have-no-idea look. “Fee, you’re special. I’ve always felt it. This, weirdly, makes sense. And you are worthy, you idiot. If anyone is, then it’s you—the woman who brings the homeless guy on the corner of Pembroke a coffee and bacon sarnie every morning, the woman who volunteers her time for every charity event and spends her holidays at the local soup kitchen. The one who took in a ghost who needed a home and made her feel loved.” She reached out and brushed a tendril of hair off my face. “This is it, Fee. This is who you were meant to be. Don’t fight it, don’t be afraid, embrace it. Fucking rock it.”

  My stomach quivered, and it hit me … I wanted this. I wanted to be special, be a reaper, and kick ass.

  “Think of it as a challenge,” Cora continued. “When have you ever backed down from a challenge?”

  She had a point. I had an insanely competitive nature. It was how I’d gone from receptionist to management at Soul Savers in the space of three years. Sheer determination. If this scythe had chosen me, then I was going to do my damn best to live up to it, and if it turned out to be a mistake, then so be it. In the meantime, I’d be the best reaper ever.

  “Find the people who killed that reaper, Fee. It’s what Nancy would do. Put on your Poirot tash, girl. Solve the mystery, and then decide what you want to do about the whole reaper thing.”

  I leaned in and hugged her semi-corporal form. She was still carrying some of the juice she’d siphoned off me last night, so it was almost like a real hug, one I needed badly.