Reaper's Justice

by Sarah McCarty

  “It’s not decent.” That was Cole.

  “Neither are your Saturday trips to Dolly’s place but I don’t lecture you on them.”

  “How the hell—” Cole cut off his words. “You know that’s different.”

  Addy huffed, the way she did when she was confident of winning her point. “I know you’d like to think it is.”

  “No decent woman lives with a man not her kin.”

  That helpful tidbit was inserted by Reese. Addy had a response for that to. Isaiah was beginning to believe she always had a response. “You know what’s not decent? Me not being safe in my own home. What’s not decent is raiders breaking into my kitchen, disturbing my tea. What’s not decent is those men kidnapping me because of . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  Isaiah was surprised Addy drew the line there, as mad as she had to be at Cole’s interference.

  “Go ahead and say it,” Cole said, his tone tight. “It was because of me you were kidnapped.”

  Addy’s response was too quick to be anything other that emotional.

  “We don’t know that, Cole.”

  Isaiah shook his head. It was a foolish response and would cost her her edge. Guilt was too powerful a weapon to throw away. She’d been right to hire him. She was too soft to be hard.

  He cleared the building and, squinting against the setting sun, took in the scene with a glance. Cole and Reese sat on their horses in front of the small building, leaning on their elbows against their saddle horns, looking nonchalant, but everything from the set of their shoulders to the narrowing of their eyes said they were itching for a fight.

  Isaiah cracked his knuckles. He wouldn’t mind giving it to them. They should have protected Addy better, done what was right rather than what she wanted. As he intended to do.

  All three turned as he approached. It was an easy four-foot leap up from the ground, over the front porch rail, to where Addy stood. Easy for a Reaper. It would be harder for a human, but he wasn’t aiming to look human for the Camerons. He wanted them to know exactly what he was. A threat.

  Cole’s eyebrows rose. Addy gasped. Reese nodded.

  “That’s what I figured.”

  Isaiah took a position a little in front of Addy.

  “Just what did you figure?” he challenged.

  “Nothing I wasn’t supposed to, I’m sure.”

  “I won’t have it, Addy,” Cole cut in.

  Addy put her hands on her hips and took a step forward, neatly sidestepping Isaiah. “What won’t you have, Cole?”

  With a jerk of his chin, Cole indicated Isaiah. “You staying here with the likes of him.”

  “It’s going to grate then, when I tell you that you don’t have any say in what I do.”

  “I’m your cousin, your oldest living male relative.”

  “But you’re not my father and not my brother, and even if you were, I’m not a girl. I get to make my own decisions.”

  Cole’s hands fisted on the saddle but he didn’t take his gaze from Isaiah. “Not if I have you declared incompetent.”

  Addy gasped. He wasn’t sure what Cole’s threat meant, but it put the fear of God into Addy, and that was enough for him. Isaiah tucked his fingers around her upper arm and pulled her behind him. She trembled beneath his touch. He sighed. If she would just let him do what she’d hired him to do, she wouldn’t be so shaken.

  “Next time, stay where I put you.”

  She shook her head, tears in her eyes. His beast roared in his head. His gums ached and the skin on his fingers burned. He slid his hand up her shoulder until he could tip her face to his, remembering the feel of her skin beneath his touch, remembering how she trembled then. How it had pleased him. How it had pleased them both.

  “What is he threatening you with?”

  She shook her head again.

  “He’s calling her crazy,” Reese supplied.

  Declared incompetent. That had an official sound to it.

  “She’s not crazy.”

  Cole snorted. “From the outside looking in, she is. If all her rituals weren’t enough, her behavior from before would seal the deal.”

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Addy snapped.

  Cole shrugged. “I could say the same thing about you.”

  Isaiah had the gist of it now. Cole was threatening to call Addy crazy so he could have control over her, which only went to prove that nobody could be trusted.

  Except her, the beast whispered.

  Shut up.

  “You want I should kill him now?” he asked Addy while keeping his gaze locked with Cole’s.

  Addy didn’t answer right away. Cole’s saddle creaked as he shifted his weight.

  “Are you going along with this?” she asked Reese.

  He shook his head. “No—”

  “Shut up, Reese.”

  Reese continued as if Cole hadn’t interrupted. “But I can’t agree with you taking up with a man who’d kill your cousins over a minor disagreement.”

  “Cole’s threatening to lock me up.”

  “He’s frustrated.”

  “So am I.”

  This time it was Reese’s saddle that creaked, another betrayal of the emotion that swirled around in an incomprehensible influence. Isaiah let it flow. The emotion didn’t concern him. The men and their overprotectiveness did.

  Reese tipped his hat back and motioned to Isaiah. “But you don’t have to go to extremes.”

  To Isaiah’s surprise, Addy put her hand on his arm. Support? A strange warmth went thought him. Pleasure.

  “You said you wanted me to have someone who would do anything for me, put me first. You always said I deserved that.”

  What am I to you? A means to an end.

  The warmth shattered, the void filled by a bitter self-mockery. At some point he’d learn.

  “You do,” Cole countered, “but I also want a man who knows how to love you and this one is a stone-cold killer.”

  Addy’s fingers stroked up and down his upper arm in tiny touches. Isaiah steeled himself against his response. She was just nervous.

  “And you know this how?”

  It wasn’t his imagination that she stepped in front of him. He covered her hand with his and removed it from his arm.

  She cut him a glance and blushed. Cole glared. Reese frowned.

  “Just a shot in the dark.”

  “Do you want them dead?” he asked again.

  A floorboard creaked as Addy shifted her weight, but still she didn’t answer. She might not want them dead, but the beast did. Cole was a threat. To her. To them.

  Isaiah shook his head to clear it of images flashing dark then light, hazy then clear. Images of sharp instruments approaching, then being drawn away. And pain. Always pain where he loved. The images shattered in a moment of clarity in which all he could see was Addy putting her slender body between him and a threat. Shit. He couldn’t love her. Everything he tried to love died—the dog, the odd woman.

  “Should I want you dead, Cole?” Addy asked in a very civil tone of voice.

  “Hell, no.”

  “Then what should I want?” she asked softly. Too softly.

  “You should want what every woman wants. To be protected and loved by a man strong enough to hold you.”

  Isaiah almost jumped when she turned and her blue eyes met his, seeing far more than he wanted, asking for something the beast wanted to give, but couldn’t. She reached out, palm up. Asking again.

  He couldn’t. The beast snarled. He shook his head. Cole swore. The confidence in Addy’s eyes faded and her hand dropped to her side, but she held her ground. The woman was damn stubborn. Isaiah almost felt sorry for her cousins. They had no concept of how deep the Cameron blood ran in Addy’s veins. She could outstubborn the lot of them.

  “I am protected,” Addy continued. “Just not by a man of your choosing.”

  “His loyalty is questionable.”

  “His loyalty is to me.”

  Cole snorted. �
��That isn’t reassuring to me.”

  Her braid rustled against the cotton of her dress as she shook her head. “Then you’ll have to adjust.”

  “No.”

  “You can’t stand the thought of anyone else having control over me. You never could.”

  “I know where I found you.”

  “So do I, but that’s the past, Cole, and it wasn’t your fault. Just like if anything happens to me here, it’s not your fault.”

  “The hell it’s not! They took you because of me.”

  Addy’s scent changed with her emotions, grew more acrid. She was afraid. Fear Isaiah knew how to handle. Catching her hand, he pulled her to his side.

  “They won’t again.”

  Cole’s gaze locked on his hand. Just to irk him, Isaiah slid his hand up to Addy’s shoulder. Cole reached for his gun. Isaiah smiled and pulled her closer. The gesture started out as provocation, but it ended as something more when Addy leaned into his side. She felt good there. Right.

  “You have no say in this,” Cole countered.

  “Addy gave me that right yesterday and as you’re upsetting her—”

  “Like hell she gave you anything.”

  Addy pushed at Isaiah’s side. It was surprisingly easy to keep her there. “Everything about her is my business and you won’t upset her anymore.”

  “The hell I won’t.”

  Cole might be used to that glare of his intimidating humans, but Isaiah was a Reaper. “You won’t.”

  “You’re serious about being her protector?” Reese asked, interrupting the argument.

  Isaiah didn’t look away from Cole. The man needed to understand where his control ended and Isaiah’s began. “Dead serious.”

  “Good. Then you won’t mind a little help.”

  “I don’t need help.”

  “Everyone needs help.”

  “What the hell are you up to, Reese?” Cole asked.

  That was what Isaiah wanted to know.

  Reese motioned to the surprisingly complacent Addy. “That’s our cousin, whether you like it or not, Cole, and we’re not going to just hand her care over to a stranger.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I trust him,” Addy interjected.

  Cole’s “I don’t” was succinct and to the point.

  Isaiah smiled at the Camerons. “Learn.”

  Reese smiled right back. “Likely I will, as I’ll be staying to help out.”

  “What?”

  “No.”

  Cole drew his revolver. “I was hoping you’d be difficult.”

  Addy stepped away from Isaiah. “Shoot away.”

  Cole snorted. “Looks like she’s not that fond of you.”

  Isaiah growled. “She’s fond enough.”

  “Addy,” Reese asked. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m calling Cole’s bluff.”

  “I’m not bluffing.”

  It was Isaiah’s turn to smile. No, he wasn’t.

  “What the hell do you have to smile about?” Cole bit off.

  “It’s my lucky day.” Isaiah relaxed his muscles and his hold on the beast. It growled and stretched with anticipation. “I get to kill you after all.”

  “I’m the one with the gun.”

  “And I’m the one who can get to you before you can pull the trigger.”

  “Shit. Put your gun away, Cole,” Reese said.

  “The hell I will.”

  “The hell you won’t,” Reese snapped. “The weather’s been miserable for grave digging.”

  “No law says we have to bury him.”

  “But it’d look bad if we didn’t bury you.”

  Isaiah stepped to the side.

  Addy sprang forward. “Oh my God. Isaiah, don’t.”

  “Goddamn it, Addy!” Cole shouted and jerked the barrel up.

  “See, even Addy knows he can do it.”

  “Even I know?”

  Isaiah sighed and pulled Addy out from between him and Cole. “Don’t do that again.”

  She turned on him. “I hired you. I give the orders.”

  “Not in this,” Cole snapped.

  Addy yanked at her arm. “Let me go!”

  “No.”

  Her braid slapped across his arm as she spun back to Cole. “Since when do you side with him?”

  “Since he makes sense.”

  “A minute ago you were going to kill him.”

  Cole took aim again. “I still might.”

  Isaiah snorted.

  “You might want to give up on that idea, Cole,” Reese said.

  The muzzle didn’t waver. “Why?”

  “Remember my telling you about those men I’ve been studying up on.”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s one of them, and trust me, he can do what he says.”

  “You’re a goddamn Reaper?”

  This was getting out of hand. Protecting was a lot messier than killing. “Whatever I am, I’m going to rip your heart out before you can pull that trigger.” Isaiah was used to men cowering when his beast showed its presence and he knew it was showing. He could feel it in the ache in his bones, in the intensity of his focus. Cole didn’t twitch. He might even have been described as “intrigued.”

  “You really shouldn’t put it like that,” Reese said. With a motion of his hand, he indicated Cole. “The man is completely unable to resist a challenge.”

  So he could see. Isaiah tightened his hold on Addy’s arm again. “I’m beginning to get that impression. He might even carry it to the point of stupidity.”

  “I wouldn’t say stupidity, but it’s been close a time or two.”

  “Why aren’t you afraid?” he asked Reese out of curiosity.

  “You’re not threatening to rip out my heart.” Reese shrugged. “And besides . . .” A hammer cocked. “You might be able to get to him but you can’t get to me, too.”

  “I thought of that. The way I figure I’ll handle it is, while I’m ripping his heart out, I’ll slice your jugular.”

  “With what?”

  Isaiah smiled. He wondered if it looked as cold as it felt. “That would be telling.”

  Abby’s nails dug into his hand. “These are my cousins!”

  He ignored the outburst. This was between them, and it needed to be settled, but maybe not right now. The scent of Addy’s fear and distress was strong.

  “Now, gentlemen, if you’ve satisfied your curiosity as to whether I can protect your cousin or not, I need to get back inside.”

  “Why?”

  That “why,” combined with the implication of Cole’s frown, was insulting. And he wasn’t the only one who picked it up.

  “Not for what you’re obviously thinking!” Addy gasped.

  Isaiah steered Addy toward the door. “I have bread to bake.”

  “Bread? Shit!”

  Reese broke into laughter. “Son of a bitch. She’s turning him into a goddamn baker.”

  Cole pulled back on the reins. His bay tossed his head and pranced. “Sometime in the future, you’ll have to decide, baker or bodyguard.”

  Isaiah shrugged. “When the time comes, I’ll make up my mind, but in the meantime, I have apples that need to be peeled, and Addy has orders that need to be filled.”

  “You’re opening the bakery tomorrow?” Cole asked.

  Addy nodded. “I want my life back to normal as fast as possible.”

  Reese swung down off his horse and untied his pack from the back of the saddle. “Understandable.”

  Isaiah nodded to the porch. “You can make your bed here.”

  Reese cocked an eyebrow at him and then looked at Addy. If he was looking for a softer response, he was doomed to disappointment. “I hope you brought a bed roll.”

  On that she turned and went in the house. The screen door slammed behind her. Isaiah stayed a couple seconds longer, just to enjoy the cousins’ consternation, and then he smiled. Guarding Addy was turning out to have some unexpected benefits.

  ISAIAH came in as si
lently as he did everything, a whisper of sound stilted by motion, but this time Addy heard him. Her nerves were so jangled that everything seemed louder. Outside she could even hear her cousins talking. They didn’t sound as if they were shouting but they had to be for her to hear them all the way in the kitchen.

  She poured a bit of water into the basin, scooped up some soap, and washed her hands, scrubbing them over and over. Isaiah came up behind her. His scent reached her first, that purely masculine, musky, addictive aroma that just pleased her to the core.

  “I’m sorry they put you through that,” she murmured.

  His arms came around her and his hands covered hers, separating them. Before she could protest, he took up the washing, except his efforts were softer than hers, gentler and focused more on the muscles in her palms, relaxing them.

  “It wasn’t anything I didn’t expect.” The soft rumble of his drawl blended with the soothing massage.

  “They threatened to kill you, for heaven sakes.”

  “And I threatened to kill them back. Seems to me that makes us even.”

  She gave in to the urge to lean back against him. “Cole’s not usually so unreasonable.”

  “He feels guilty, and worse, there’s nothing he can do. Plus you called his bluff and blocked his play. That’s pretty much guaranteed to get a man riled.”

  She closed her fingers around his hand. “They’ve got to let me go.”

  “They can’t.”

  “Their love suffocates me.”

  He lifted her hands from the water, and poured some fresh water from the pitcher over them, rinsing the soap clean, then he pulled her back against him and held her. She should protest, because instinct told her that her cousins’ possessiveness was nothing next to Isaiah’s, but she couldn’t. It felt so right. The spot on her shoulder burned and tingled. She put her hand to it.

  His lips touched her hand. “What’s wrong?”

  “It feels funny.”

  “Where I bit you?”

  “Yes. How did you do that?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “Do what?”

  “Bite me and not make it hurt.”

  “I don’t know, but however I did it, I’m glad.”

  “Me, too. I’m even hoping you’ll do it again. It was . . . exciting.”

  Her gaze was butter soft, her lips parted, her scent tempting. Shit. The one thing he could never do was that again.