Reaper

by Lena North

  “But –”

  “You don’t let the dragonflies do that?”

  “Never,” I said. “It wouldn’t be right. I went with you on missions, so I heard what was said then, but I stayed away at all other times.”

  “You should probably tell Olly,” Snow murmured.

  “What?”

  “He thinks you’ve been stalking him twenty-four seven for years.”

  He thought… What a shithead.

  “Bird,” I called out.

  “Annie,” he replied immediately.

  “Tell Olof Harper he can go dip his head in a bucket of ice because it's getting too big for his ox-like neck. Tell him I had a life and it didn’t circle around him. Tell him he's a huge shithead, and I don't want to see him again.”

  I heard a strangled sound next to me and realized I'd spoken out loud, but I didn't care.

  “Okay, but can you just clarify a few things, so I get it right?” the bird said. “Should it be only ice, because then there could be sharp edges and it might be better if he added some water if that's okay? And are there details about this life which you would like to share, such as dates with other men?” I blinked and was about to answer when he continued, sounding worried, “When you say you don’t want to see him again, you don’t mean ever, do you? You mean for a little while, like, say, the next hours?”

  I was silent, thinking it over and he pushed again.

  “Annie? It’s not forever, is it? He’s usually not a shithead. His mother taught him how to cook, you know, and he’s good with animals. He almost never drinks a lot, and you like it when he takes his clothes off.”

  Oh, God. His bird was pleading with me to not give up on Olly.

  “Tell him he can have water in the bucket of ice, and that I used to date tons of gorgeous guys. That’s a massive exaggeration, but you can’t tell him…” I made a pause, and added, “And I don’t mean forever, bird, but I’m not sure if you should tell him that either.”

  “Okidoki,” the bird snapped cordially. “I will relay your message immediately.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured, and turned to the room.

  “Beautification!” Bo shouted. “Prontissimo. Then horrydovers at Mary’s place, and drinks in Johns.”

  Wow. Girls’ lunch was apparently girls’ night after all, although in a biker bar in Norton. And what the heck was horrydovers?

  “I know,” Bo exclaimed, reading the confusion on my face incorrectly. “But the macho squad ixnayed all other suggestions and said it had to be in Norton, and it had to be Johns.”

  Then he clapped his hands, and an army of people descended upon us.

  I had no clue what would happen when they placed me in front of a huge mirror, but I didn't like what I saw. The lights were bright, and I looked pale. My hair was limp, and the brown color had partially disappeared because I'd been a wuss and not dared to get the permanent color. It looked kind of streaky but not in a fancy highlighted way. It looked like someone had pooped on it, I thought.

  “What should we do?” the small man asked.

  He was some kind of head beautificationist and had been assigned to me, likely because I was the one needing him the most.

  “I’m not a girly-girl,” I said.

  “I can see that,” he said with a soft giggle.

  His eyes were kind, and he brushed my hair with gentle hands. He also seemed to be immaculately groomed and wore a fantastic black shirt with colorful embroideries.

  Right, I thought. Step out of the shadows, Annie.

  “I have no clue what to do, so you have free hands,” I said.

  “I –” He coughed, and re-started, “I have free hands?”

  “Totally,” I said. “You look gorgeous, and I look mostly like fungus, so yeah. Free hands.”

  He took a step back, pursed his lips, came closer, pinched my cheek and inspected my hair. Then he muttered something and nodded.

  “I will restore the red. Sort out your skin. Mani. Pedi. Wax. Makeup.” He nodded again. “Yes, my girl, I do believe I can create a masterpiece.”

  I giggled as our eyes met.

  “I’d settle for cute, but hey… I won’t object to being a masterpiece,” I said.

  It took hours, although it felt like less than five minutes. We were chatting and joking, and people ran in and out of the room as if they were training for the Olympic sprint medal. My hair was gunked up several times, I got goo on my face, they filed and scraped, and rubbed creams and lotions into my skin. I was a razor using kind of girl and found out just how much it hurt to get various body parts waxed, but I clenched my jaws and focused on the jokes they told to keep me distracted.

  Wilder was apparently not able to do the same and the roar she emitted echoed between the walls.

  “I will fucking kill you. You said it wouldn’t hurt much,” she shouted and added angrily. “I don't care if it looks like a landing strip. Get me a damned razor!”

  The young man who was sorting out my nails, which I hadn’t even been aware needed any kind of sorting, glanced up at me, and whispered, “Let’s just hope it’s her legs they’re working on.”

  I started laughing loudly.

  “I can hear you, Annie,” Wilder shouted, and I laughed some more.

  Even if I ended up looking ridiculous and the girls’ night was a disaster, I’d had one of the best afternoons in my life.

  When they were done, I stared at the person in the mirror. Then I walked over to look behind the mirror, in case they tricked me somehow. Then I walked back to stare again.

  “You need high heels,” someone murmured.

  “Okay,” I said and kept staring.

  I wasn’t beautiful, I thought as I analyzed the image in front of me, but I looked… stunning? Eye-catching? I couldn’t come up with a good word for it, and as I got used to the girl peering so curiously back at me from the mirror, I realized I liked the fact I could look like that. I hadn’t known.

  They had curled my hair but brushed it out, so it was floating in soft, golden red waves around my face. A face they’d applied a lot of makeup on, but not in a way that made me look cheap or overworked. I looked like a movie star from when my grandfather was young, I thought. I could see how the dark shade around my eyes made them look bigger, and how the raspberry pink lipstick made my mouth look… kissable?

  I’d picked the green dress as Bo suggested, and it hugged my curves, enhancing my skinny arms and not so skinny behind. It also dipped in the front to show a cleavage I hadn’t known I had until they made me put on a black, lacy bra which pushed things up and together.

  “Masterpiece,” the man said gently. “But not because of how you look. Not really.”

  I turned, and our eyes met.

  “You’re really sweet, Annie. That’s what the masterpiece is all about. I meet bitches all the time, and it doesn’t matter what I do. Their ugliness still shines through the façade I create for them.”

  I swallowed and wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Right,” he said, sounding like his usual chirpy self again. “Let’s go and stun the others?”

  “Totally,” I said.

  And we did. They stared at me, and even Bo was speechless. I was about to say something when Wilder raised her hand, made a huffing sound and picked up her phone.

  “Mac,” she hissed into it. “Don’t care if he’s still puking, get him to Johns.”

  There was a long silence, then she made an annoyed sound, angled the phone in my direction, snapped a photo, and fiddled with the screen. She listened a few seconds, and said, “Yeah. Exactly. Mass-murder. Later.”

  Then she closed the call without saying goodbye and turned to me.

  “I think tonight will be one of the funniest nights in my entire life, Annie.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mountain shots

  Horrydovers turned out to be appetizers, although it took me half a glass of spritzer to figure out tha
t Bozo had used a tweaked version of the term hors-d'oeuvres.

  When we’d walked into Mary’s home, Mac had been waiting in the living room, and Carson came out of the kitchen with a tray in his hand. He walked over to kiss Bo, murmuring, “You look gorgeous.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Bo said impatiently and waved both his hands in our direction. “Look at them,” he whispered. “They look like girls, all of them.” He beamed at us. “Pretty,” he said with great satisfaction.

  Mac stared at us without saying a word, although a grin spread on his face as he approached slowly to look at his girlfriend.

  “Well, fuck me,” he said, finally.

  “Maybe later,” Wilder snapped, trying to cover her embarrassment. “I look weird,” she added, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself.

  The black, very short, leather and lace dress showed off her fantastic legs and made her look totally biker-cool, but the bouncy curls pulled back from her face with a clip softened the overall impression. Her bright red lipstick was sexy, even to me.

  “If you mean weird in a way that means we won’t be staying very long at Johns tonight and you’ll probably have to break a few hands because they’ve been on your butt, then yeah. You look weird,” Mac said. “If you meant something else, then no. Not weird at all.” He leaned in, caressed her cheek gently, and added quietly, “You’re beautiful, honey.”

  Kit walked in from the back porch and turned to lock the door, saying, “Mrs. Pearson’s got the girls under control, Mary. They’re slee –”

  His eyes had hit Wilder, and he froze.

  “Holy cow, you’re gorgeous,” he blurted out. His eyes flew to Mac, and then back to Wilder. “I mean, sorry. But you look… Wow.”

  Wilder started grinning, and Kit did too.

  “Let’s eat. The others are at Johns already,” Carson said.

  Kit caught sight of me as we moved toward the trays his father had prepared, and I smiled at him. His brows went up high on his forehead, but then his lips moved into a sly grin.

  “I think tonight will be one of the greatest nights in a long, long time,” he said. “Maybe even in my entire life.”

  “Why’s that?” I said casually and picked up a small piece of what looked like chicken with some kind of veggie on a toothpick.

  “Olly,” he said.

  “Olly, what?”

  “Calmest guy I know,” he snickered. “Don’t think he’ll be so calm tonight. It’ll be fun seeing him rattled.”

  I wasn’t so sure Olly would react to my appearance the way they all seemed to think. He’d been angry when he left that morning, and I’d sent a pretty sour message to him with his bird, so he might not even show up. I hoped he would, though. I loved looking the way I did right then but I knew I’d never find the energy to keep the appearance up and I’d be back to the regular Annie when the night was over.

  “We’ve had a great day,” Mary said, changing the topic and I smiled gratefully at her.

  “I heard,” Kit said sweetly, and asked, “What about my tat, Annie? Where’s my bird?”

  Word had apparently spread about our conversation in the spa, and I looked calmly at him.

  “You don’t have a bird,” I guessed.

  He blinked, and I assumed it meant I was right.

  “You have a dragon,” I said. “You stay far under the radar, but you're not the suave good-guy they all think, are you?” He didn’t respond so I went on, “A huge dragon, most of your back, bright colors. Leaving space for something else, though.”

  “Something else?” he said hoarsely.

  “For when you find someone you think deserve it,” I said quietly. His face closed down, and I knew I’d gotten just a little too close to where he didn’t want me to go, so I put the rest of the chicken in my mouth, and turned away. “These are fantastic,” I said breezily and waved the empty toothpick toward Carson.

  He smiled at me in a way I couldn't interpret and started talking about the various things he'd prepared for us. I knew how to cook, but I wasn’t great at it, so we ended up deciding to spend some time together in his kitchen.

  “What are you drinking, Mary?” Carson asked suddenly.

  “Sparkling water and non-alcoholic wine,” she snapped. “And you can thank your brother, Mister Fertile, for that” she added in a sour voice, which was totally fake.

  “He says it’s not his fault,” Bozo said. “Says it was all you and that he didn’t want more kids.”

  “Bull,” I muttered.

  “What?” Bo asked with an indulgent smile.

  “He’s a vet, he knows the procedure,” I said and made a snipping gesture with my fingers.

  “It’s not exactly the same on humans,” Jinx protested.

  I knew that, but I enjoyed the look of horror on Bo’s face and smiled serenely at him.

  “Is there a difference?” Bo asked. “What?” he added. “How would I know?”

  Jinx explained the difference, with relish and in great detail. When Bo heard how animals were castrated, he made loud, phony puke sounds.

  “They remove their…” he choked and added hoarsely, “Completely?”

  “How can you be so surprised?” Wilder asked innocently.

  I narrowed my eyes and wondered what she was up to.

  “How would I know?” Bo repeated.

  “Um, Bo,” Wilder said. “What do you think Mill puts in that stew you love?”

  The look on Bo’s face was priceless.

  “He brings them home from work,” Wilder added, rubbing it in.

  Bo’s head snapped around, looking for some kind of explanation from the vet in the room.

  “Yeah,” Mac said calmly. “We call it our work-perk.”

  Bo remained frozen, and his face was a mask of complete and utter horror. Then he suddenly screamed out loud. It was a sound of pure panic, and I almost felt sorry for him. Or I would have if I hadn’t been so very busy trying to hold laughter back. Then he turned toward Carson, screamed again and ran out of the room, waving his hands in the air. We got to our feet and watched him disappear down the street, still waving his hands. The silk tunic with its flowery pattern in lime green and bright pink flowed around him as he disappeared around a corner.

  Wilder raised a hand, and Mac high-fived it.

  “That was just mean,” Kit chuckled.

  “But funny,” Carson added and pushed three bits of chicken into his mouth. “I'd better go save Mill,” he mumbled around the food.

  “We should all go,” Wilder said, grinning widely. “I wanna see him bitch-slap Miller.”

  “Me too,” Mary giggled.

  I started laughing, and they turned curiously to me.

  “This is totally something my family could do,” I said. “They’ll all laugh when I tell them.”

  “Invite them to come here,” Mary said. “Once Olly has pulled his head out of his behind, they should all come.”

  “I might not –”

  “Full of shit, Annie…” Jinx said warningly.

  “I’ll invite them,” I said meekly, and when they grinned at me I couldn’t help myself and smiled back at them.

  Then we walked the short distance to Johns, and entered a bar surprisingly full of people, considering it was a Tuesday night. Bo was still open hand slapping at Miller who held his arms up in front of him and was laughing loudly. Carson walked over to them and said something in Bo's ear which calmed him down immediately. He turned to glare at Wilder, but his mouth quivered, so I guessed he appreciated the joke, even if it had been on him.

  Hawker’s wife Sloane had declined to join us at the spa and stood next to her husband looking very cool in a pair of tight jeans and a strawberry-pink top which showed almost as much cleavage as my dress. She caught sight of us, and nudged her husband with an elbow, tilting her head toward us.

  “Annie?” Sven said next to me, and I turned. “Shit,” he muttered and glanced to the side.


  I smiled up at the huge man and said sweetly, “I think tonight will be funny, don’t you?”

  “Not sure funny is the right word,” he sighed and glanced to the side again.

  I suspected Olly was sitting there, but I didn’t look. Maybe everyone was right, and we’d end up talking and perhaps sorting things out between us, but right then I didn’t care. Play hard to get, Jinx had said. Make him sweat, my grandfather told me. The concept was still a little blurry to me, but I'd try.

  “I’ll go and see if the girls want to do shots,” I said and watched Sven swallow when a couple of men I didn’t recognize cheered loudly.

  Then I sauntered over to my girlfriends with a big smile on my face. I'd never sauntered in my life, and it felt good.

  “Shots?” I asked.

  “Yes!” Wilder cheered and turned to the man behind the bar. “Don’t you dare give us tea,” she snapped.

  Tea? Why the hell would he give us tea?

  “Small ones, Hare,” Sloane said as she joined us. “We’ll be fine.”

  The tiniest shot-glasses I’d ever seen were placed in a line in front of us, and Hare filled them in one go by sweeping the bottle over them, grinning widely as he did. Wilder grabbed one and raised it.

  “Perhaps we should do mountain shots?” I said cheekily and reached for a glass.

  “Perhaps we should,” Sloane murmured and winked at me.

  The other girls were looking at us in confusion, and I raised my brows.

  “Shit,” I said. “I forgot that you weren't raised up here. You should get your boyfriends to show you.”

  “What?” Wilder asked.

  “Maybe you should show them,” Sloane said and nudged me softly.

  I stared at her.

  “I don’t think…”

  For the first time, my eyes went to the corner where Olly was sitting. He was looking at me, but his jaw was set, and he didn't smile. I turned back to Sloane.

  “No,” I said, knowing he wouldn’t let me.

  “You can borrow my man,” she said, and when she saw the look on my face, she added quietly, “Go for it, Annie. Don’t do this halfheartedly.”

  “You’re sure?” I asked uncertainly.