by Elle Adams
“I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t even know he was a Reaper before I saw the scythe. Is he staying here in town?”
“My brother’s going to find out where he’s staying so we can make sure he won’t take us unawares.” I couldn’t do any more than that. The guy hadn’t told me his reasons for being here, and if we came to blows, I preferred it not be a public event. I also didn’t want the local ghosts to get caught up in the backlash. “I’ll keep an eye out for Lara, too, but she might’ve hidden somewhere when the Reaper showed up.”
“Yeah.” He gave a nod, his expression brightening. “That makes sense. I hope he came alone.”
Me too. I bloody well hoped Shelton was the only new Reaper in town, that was for sure.
Shadows crept from underneath my feet, and I resumed my search of the afterlife for any signs of Lara’s ghost. The Reaper’s presence seemed to have scared most of the local spirits into backing off, though, and no matter how hard I looked, her ghost didn’t show up in or around the building. I dropped the shadows and walked back into the restaurant, figuring that bringing the afterlife in with me would dampen the inn’s reputation as family friendly, to say the least.
Allie beckoned me over. “There you are, Maura. Are you going to get ready for your date with the detective?”
“Sure,” I said. “Just got distracted.”
“Nervous?” she asked in sympathetic tones. “Where are you going again?”
“A restaurant called the Hair of the Wolf.” I’d never been there before, since I usually ate at the restaurant at the inn even when I wasn’t working. Drew had picked out the shifter-owned establishment for our date, probably because it’d feel less like we were being watched all the time. Not that I minded spending time around Allie and Carey, but tonight was just for the detective and me. I’d made Mart promise to stay away as well, though he now had the new Reaper to occupy his attention.
“Ah, that’s over in the werewolves’ area of town,” she said. “Makes sense. Maybe he wants to introduce you to his favourite haunts.”
“Yeah.” I walked towards the glass doors to the lobby, fervently hoping that haunts would apply only to Drew and not to the town’s resident spirits. “I’ll go and get ready.”
I didn’t normally put much thought into how I dressed—black jeans and plain T-shirts were my usual style, since Reapers tried to avoid drawing attention, and most of us didn’t care much for fashion—but I made a special effort tonight. I even wore a skirt for once, which showed off more of my legs than I usually put on display, along with a jacket and heeled shoes I hadn’t worn in years.
Allie beamed at me when I walked past her in the lobby. “New look? I like it.”
“Thanks.” I tugged self-consciously on the collar of my jacket. “Better hope I don’t run into any troublemaking ghosts. I can’t run in these heels.”
I looked outside and saw Detective Drew himself approaching the inn. Like most shifters, he was tall and broad, though his longish dark hair was a contrast to the typical blond of the majority of his fellow werewolves. He was also out of uniform and dressed casually in jeans and a shirt that gave him a more rugged look than usual, accentuated by the faint traces of stubble on his face. My stomach fluttered when he gave me a smile as I walked out to meet him. “Hey, Maura.”
“Hey,” I said.
My heart swooped as his gaze dipped to my exposed legs. “You look great.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I walked in step with him towards the bridge over the river. Night had fallen over the rooftops, and the dark streets would have looked eerie if I hadn’t been used to trekking around creepy places at night. A few ghosts drifted past, which was at least a promising sign that a certain Reaper had left the area.
Hopefully he left the town too. I scanned the nearest ghosts in case one of them turned out to be Mart, but there was no sign of him among the spirits crossing the bridge. Nor Lara, either. Usually when I dated, I kept my expectations below ground level. This time, I really wanted it to work, and not just because my recent romantic history was downright tragic. That meant keeping away from any ghosts, including Mart, though I hoped to be able to snag an update on our Reaper friend from him later tonight.
Detective Drew followed my gaze back to the inn. “Your brother isn’t going to follow us, is he?”
“Nah, I told him to leave us alone,” I reassured him. “I made it quite clear.”
“Really?” he said. “He’s not going to barge in on us if he gets bored, is he?”
“No… well, he’s kind of spying on someone else at the moment,” I admitted. “But he won’t show up in the middle of our date. I told him not to. He might like pranking people, but he’ll be on his best behaviour.”
“Good,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I know he’s your family, but it’s hard to tell someone to go away that you can’t see or hear.”
“It’s better if you can’t hear him, trust me.” The comments Mart made about the detective were annoying enough for me to listen to, let alone everyone else.
Luckily, my brother seemed to have taken his quest to spy on the new Reaper seriously, because he didn’t show up as we walked across town towards the restaurant. The cheerful redbrick building in the werewolves’ area of town was bustling with shifters of all types. I peered inside first to check for any ghosts, but the handful of spirits hovering around didn’t pay me any attention. So far, so good.
We picked a table near the window and ordered our meals in the usual magical method: by picking up the menus and tapping on our selections with our fingertips. It was a perk I’d missed when I’d lived in the normal world, I wouldn’t lie. At least we were far enough from the witches’ area of town that I had little chance of running into any ex-coven members, too.
“No ghosts in here?” Drew asked.
“None that are likely to bother me.”
“Thought not,” he said. “That’s partly why I picked this place. Witches and wizards are more likely to become ghosts than other types of paranormals, aren’t they?”
I raised a brow. “Have you been researching?”
“Purely out of personal interest,” he said. “It seemed to me that I ought to get an idea of how Reapers operate if I’m going to be spending a lot of time with one of them.”
“The Reapers don’t typically let information about how they operate go public,” I warned him. “You might find it hard to access anything substantial.”
“You forget the police department has access to a lot of sources nobody else does,” he said. “Also, we might not have an active Reaper in town at the moment, but we used to, and the police did consult with him on occasion.”
I pulled a face. “Please tell me you haven’t been asking old Harold about me.”
“I haven’t,” he said. “Does it bother you? I can stop researching if you like, but I thought it would help me to understand how it all works.”
My mouth parted. “It doesn’t bother me, but I’m not a typical Reaper. I’m not even supposed to exist. There are strict rules against Reapers procreating with non-Reapers, and it goes without saying that my dad kinda blew that rule to pieces when he married my mum and had two kids.”
Both of his brows shot into the air. “Does that rule apply to you as well?”
Heat rushed to my cheeks when it belatedly hit me what he was implying. Why had I decided to bring that up on our first date? Why?
“No, because I’m not an active Reaper.” I looked down at the menu to avoid meeting his eyes. “I threw away my apprenticeship when I left home, so none of the rules apply to me aside from the secrecy rules telling us not to share our secrets with outsiders.”
Drew wore a contemplative expression, as though he was considering a response, but to my relief, our orders appeared on the table at that moment. I dug into my pasta for a few bites before sidestepping into a different subject.
“Have you always worked for the paranormal police force?” I asked.
“Sure,” Drew said. “I always knew I wanted to help people. Werewolves are generally raised in a pack, so we see ourselves as part of a group. That makes us a good fit for keeping order among other paranormals.”
That fit with what I already knew. Shifters were pretty much the opposite of the Reapers, who viewed themselves as separate from humanity as a whole, paranormal and otherwise. We kept our distance, and it was a habit I’d found hard to break. Luckily, the detective was well aware of that fact.
“That’s cool.” I took another bite of my food. “I’ve never spent a lot of time around werewolves. Not sure why, because like you said, they’re less likely to stick around after death and haunt people.”
He seemed to consider this. “I guess we’re pretty laid back about that sort of thing. Comes from being connected to the animal half of ourselves. We see death as inevitable. Not worth kicking up a fuss.”
“Yeah, witches and wizards don’t see it that way,” I said. “They’re usually the ones who raise hell and fight back when you try to shove them into the afterlife.”
“Does that happen often?” he said. “I thought you’d never been an active Reaper.”
“I’m not,” I said. “Doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally run into a troublesome ghost who needs dealing with. Ghost hunting doesn’t count as Reaping. Technically.”
His eyes twinkled. “Don’t worry. I’m off duty. I won’t tell a soul.”
“I should hope not.” I took a few more bites, more to stop myself from running my mouth off than anything else. Maybe I should have compiled a list of suitable questions for a first date. So far, I’d covered Reaper procreation, paranormal attitudes towards death, and breaking the law. Think of something less… provocative, Maura.
“So, what else do you like to do when you’re off duty?” I asked. “Aside from howling at the moon?”
He shrugged. “Running, working out, watching movies. I don’t get a ton of downtime.”
“Same here,” I said. “I mean, my hobbies mostly consist of debating the finer points of Sky Hopper with my brother or watching old Doctor Who episodes.”
“Is this a good time to admit I’ve never seen it?”
I feigned a shocked gasp. “Do you not get much nonparanormal entertainment in the pack?”
“We get some,” he said. “You might’ve noticed we don’t have much else going on here in Hawkwood Hollow. Including access to popular TV shows.”
“That might change if we can get tourism levels up when Allie and I turn the inn into a haunted hotel,” I said. “That’s no excuse, though. You have the internet.”
He grinned. “Then you’ll have to show me someday.”
“Please don’t tell me you haven’t seen Star Wars either.”
“Okay, I won’t tell you.”
“Drew.”
“You sound so scandalised.” He jabbed a fork in my direction. “You don’t even get this worked up about ghosts.”
“Ghosts are a hobby. Star Wars is a lifestyle.” I gave him an eye-roll. “I will show you. Consider yourself warned.”
“I will,” he said. “How’s the plan to turn the inn into a ghost hotel going, anyway?”
“Allie and Carey are talking strategies,” I said. “We’ve been focused on finding replacement bar staff before we make any other major changes.”
“You still haven’t found anyone yet?”
“Nobody with an ounce of potential,” I said. “The third guy today didn’t even show up, and the other two left much to be desired. And yesterday, our trial ran out hysterically screaming after one of our regular customers yelled at her. Admittedly, old Mrs Terrence screams bloody murder if her plate is the wrong way around or her tea is slightly too cold, but honestly.”
“Sounds like a challenge,” he said. “I’ll put out word among the pack. I can think of a few of our younger members who might want the work.”
“You sure?” I said, surprised.
“Of course.”
Gratitude flooded me. “Thanks. I think the main issue is that the local witches and wizards have a grudge against me for driving their coven leader out of town. Even the wizards have stopped coming to the inn as often. We think they’ve started venturing into the Crooked Broomstick again, which used to be the coven’s favourite hangout.”
“Oh, the pack doesn’t care about coven drama,” he said. “We have enough of our own. I’ll ask around and see if I can get any interest.”
“Werewolves won’t be able to see ghosts, which should help,” I acknowledged.
Luckily, the ghosts in here seemed inclined to leave the living alone for the most part, and we moved on to more upbeat topics for the remainder of our date.
As I’d finished my food and was considering ordering dessert, the door opened, and Shelton the Reaper, of all people, walked in, scythe and all. Judging by the way people stared at him, he hadn’t bothered using his Reaper abilities to hide himself, which he certainly could have done if he’d wanted to.
What the hell is he playing at?
Drew noticed my mouth had fallen open and followed my gaze to the Reaper. “Someone you know?”
“You know the person I sent my brother to spy on?” I muttered. “That’s him.”
To my utter horror, Shelton walked over to our table and stopped right next to the pair of us, making it quite clear to everyone in the vicinity that we were his targets.
I looked up at him. “Can I help you?”
He glared at me. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I said. “Look, it might have escaped your attention, but I’m busy. If you want to talk, can you wait until after we’re done here?”
Drew cleared his throat. “If you have a problem with Maura, then you’ll have to take it up with me.”
“And who might you be?” said the Reaper.
“I’m Detective Drew Gardener,” said Drew. “Chief of police in Hawkwood Hollow.”
Even that didn’t seem to bother the Reaper. He barely blinked. “Charmed, I’m sure. This young woman is a troublemaker.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Why did you come here and interrupt my date? If you wanted to talk to me, then you might’ve stuck around earlier rather than marching off when I was in the middle of asking you a question.”
“I had no obligation to carry on a conversation with you,” he said, “but if you send your brother after me again, I’ll have to take action.”
My blood chilled despite my lingering anger as he angled himself so the scythe on his back caught the light. “If you lay a finger on him, then you’ll get to meet my less diplomatic side, and it won’t be pretty. Now kindly leave us alone.”
He narrowed his eyes. “If either of you crosses me again, I’ll ensure you regret it.”
And, oblivious to the other patrons’ stares, he turned around and left the restaurant.
Drew’s gaze followed him. “Interesting. Is he new in town?”
“Unfortunately.” I turned back to the detective as the door closed on the Reaper. “I can’t tell if he’s with the Reaper Council or not, but he stormed off when I tried to find out what he was doing here.”
“Did he, now?” he said. “You didn’t mention him before.”
“I wanted to keep that topic to a minimum.” I lowered my head, wishing the other patrons would stop glancing towards us and muttering among themselves. I would have bet most of them had never set eyes on a Reaper aside from old Harold. “You might’ve noticed he’s not exactly personable. I only wanted to know what he’s doing here. Maybe he’ll turn out to be a friend of old Harold’s who’s come here for a visit, but I somehow doubt it.”
His words about my brother had rubbed me up the wrong way too. At least he hadn’t banished him outright, but Mart was good enough at being stealthy that Shelton must have been watching for anyone following him, living or dead. It was lucky for both of us he hadn’t turned his scythe on Mart.
Drew’s frown remained in place. “He isn’t staying
at the inn?”
“Of course not,” I said. “He refused to answer me when I asked, but I hoped my brother might be able to find out by following him.”
“Whatever he’s here for, you’d be better off staying out of his way,” he said.
“I wish I could,” I said. “The only reason I knew he was in town was because one of the ghosts at the inn came to me earlier, saying his friend disappeared. I looked everywhere, and I couldn’t find her.”
He arched a brow. “You think he banished one of the town’s ghosts?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “But I’m naming him as responsible, because he’s going out of his way to be obnoxious. He won’t say what he’s doing in town, but I bet it isn’t a simple sightseeing trip. There’s nothing to sightsee except for ghosts.”
Besides, Reapers rarely did anything without a reason. And if he was here, then the rest of the Reaper Council might well not be far behind.
4
Drew walked me back to the inn after our date, and I did my best to put the Reaper’s unwelcome intrusion out of my mind. Somewhere on the way, we’d ended up holding hands, and I could almost forget the haunted streets and my lingering worries about the Reaper’s threats to use his spiky instrument against my brother.
When we neared the inn, Drew let go of my hand. “This was a really nice evening.”
“It was,” I agreed. “If you ignore our unwanted interruption, anyway.”
“I’d prefer to do that,” he said. “He wasn’t very pleasant.”
“No, he wasn’t.” I faced him, my heart racing as he leaned closer.
That, of course, was when my brother decided to float through the door and between us. I jumped back, and Drew frowned. “Your brother?”
“Mart, get out of the way.” I waved a hand at him, trying to shoo his ghost aside.
“That wasn’t nice of you,” Mart said. “I thought you’d come running home right away when you heard the Reaper had threatened to use his pointy weapon on me. I’m hurt.”
