Reaper

by Lena North

  “I’d feel the same, Annie,” she said. “Olly called. Asked if I knew why you wouldn’t use your computers anymore. So, give me the password and we’ll change it.”

  “I can’t,” I said, and looked around the room.

  “We’ll reset it and you can go up and change it,” she said, which made perfect sense.

  I waved her over and kept waving until my mouth was almost pressed to her ear. Then I whispered the password to her.

  She straightened, and stared at me. The tips of her mouth quivered and she tried valiantly to hold laughter back. I stared back at her, and in the middle of my grief, I giggled. By would have laughed too, I thought.

  It took them more than two hours to figure out how to change the name and I heard them cursing and laughing upstairs while they worked. Mary had brought stacks of pictures and we spent the time looking at her memories from Thend. It felt strange at first to see Byron with his damaged face and dull eyes, doing farm chores in worn down dungarees. I slowly accepted that this had been a part of him too and it felt good to see him. He wasn’t my Byron but he also was, and he looked… not happy, but content.

  “Wait,” I said when Mary pulled out another pile of pictures.

  I ran upstairs and into my office, put a hand in Jinx face when she tried to object to my presence, opened the bottom drawer in my desk and pulled out a flat package. When I was downstairs again, I unwrapped an image I hadn’t looked at since that awful day when I lost Byron the first time.

  We were standing outside Grandfather’s house, and I was looking up at Byron. His arm was around my shoulders but he looked straight into the camera. His gaze was sharp and he was grinning a triumphantly. That had been his first full week without hallucinations and his whole being was full of joy and hope. He was magnificent. Beautiful.

  “Oh, God,” Mary whispered. “Oh, Boony.”

  “We had so much fun,” I started, and then I shared my memories of By.

  Piece by piece, we merged the images of the young man we’d lost, and by doing so, we accepted what wouldn’t be, and started to let go of him so we could go on with our lives.

  They changed my computer’s name from By to Boon, and Jinx made Olly hammer a nail in the wall just above my desk. Then she put the picture of Byron and me there, and stepped back.

  “There,” she said. “He’ll always be with you, and every time you start up your equipment, a little piece of him is still alive.”

  I swung around to look at Olly. No way she’d come up with that herself.

  He shrugged a little, and I loved him so much.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “You owe me,” he said with a grin.

  I blinked.

  “What?”

  “The password?” he asked.

  I knew what he wanted to know, and it was only fair so I took a deep breath and braced for the reaction I knew I’d get.

  “MisterHumongousLoveMuffin.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  He was a rat

  We buried Byron on a Tuesday.

  Mary and I had talked about having a small, simple funeral but Wilder walked into the big kitchen in Mary's home and told us in no uncertain terms that it would be a full-fledged Johns funeral in the church in Norton, and Byron would be put to rest with the family. Warmth filled me when she stared defiantly at us, and I wrapped her up in a tight embrace. She hugged me back a little awkwardly and I smiled into her hair.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “Dad sent me so it’s really him you should hug,” she said, stepped back and added sourly, “Which I know you like to do in a disgustingly enthusiastic way.”

  I wiggled my brows teasingly, and then we changed our plans for Byron’s funeral.

  The church was packed with people and I sat in the pew between Olly and Sven through the ceremony, thinking about the time I'd spent with Byron and letting the grief wash through me. I hadn't been to his first funeral and had spent that day curled up in my bed wholly shut off from everything. It felt good to be in the church this time, hearing the ritual words, and watching the coffin.

  Hawker and the group around him carried the coffin outside, and I held Mary’s hand as we followed them. I had no clue how Hawker had managed to get a stone for the grave in time for the funeral, but there was one.

  Byron Andreas Douglas Johns

  Brother

  I saw Reuben’s face when he read the inscription, and knew putting Byron to rest with his foster father’s surname on the stone meant the world to the old man.

  Miller and Reuben had started the process of cleaning up Thend. Cameron had used the way they kept to themselves for his illegal activities, but he’d had help from his friends in Thend. There were others who did similar things, on a smaller scale, and the community had been left to their own for too long. Reuben was respected, and had friends who agreed that they needed to change, and they got help from Hawker’s men in the Norton police department.

  Cam had had several accounts in the name Ronnie Douglas, and there was a lot of money in them. I had agreed with Hawk and Miller that we’d set up a small trust for Cam’s son, but the bulk would go into a scholarship program for the young people in Thend. Education was the best path out of both poverty and ignorance, and it didn’t have to be university education. The fund would allow for learning all kinds of trades, and would help with small business loans.

  Olly held my hand as everyone filed away from Byron’s grave and we stood there in silence. My dragonflies came to swirl around us, and a multitude of voices murmured their soft farewells.

  “I hear them,” Olly said suddenly. “Have felt them for a while, but I hear them now.”

  “Yeah,” I murmured.

  “I think they help me control my anger.”

  “Okay,” I said, thinking that I’d let the energy from the dragonflies soothe me my whole life, so it made sense.

  “I love you,” he said, and leaned forward to touch the stone. “The man resting here saved you, so we’ll make sure he isn’t forgotten, Annie.”

  My face softened, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. The black vulture swept down and sat on the tombstone.

  “He was one of us,” the bird said. “He’ll be with the others.”

  “Really?” I asked, not sure what he meant exactly.

  “Totally,” the bird said, and I heard traces of a smile in his voice when he used my favorite expression.

  “Can you talk to them?” Olly asked.

  “They watch over you,” the bird replied.

  I figured it meant he could, but that he wouldn’t admit to it, so I smiled and whispered, “Tell him I love him.”

  “No need,” the bird said and spread its wings. “He knows.”

  We watched him disappear over the treetops and then we walked the short distance to Miller and Mary’s home where there would be a gathering after the funeral. I’d said we could have it at the farm but she insisted and Byron had been her brother too, so I let her.

  The mood started out somber, but the quiet small talk changed as we ate the food Carson and Mary had prepared. We talked about Byron, but also about everyday things, and a funeral gathering was supposed to be like that, I thought. It was supposed to be a bridge between our sorrow and the future, comforting us in the knowledge that we shared a loss but also an assurance that we would hold strong together and go on living, together.

  Gilmore was still absolutely stunned and kept talking about how he couldn’t believe Jonathan Strachlan had done all the evil things he did.

  “He must have been insane,” he muttered and shook his head. “My sister died just a few years after Hawker was born, and we were never close so I lost touch with her son. I know they were told when my wife died but we never heard back from them. I didn't even know she had grandchildren.”

  “What was he like, back then?” Jinx asked. “I can’t imagine the Professor ever being a normal human being, but
he must have been.”

  “He was a jackass. High-brow and condescending. Talking about his fancy degrees and acting as if we were backcountry idiots.” Gilmore’s face hardened. “Embarrassed my sis, and she kept apologizing as soon as he was out of sight. Had no clue we’d insulted the man but we probably did.”

  “He could still be alive,” Jinx said slowly. “Byron was alive so he could be too. Cameron could have made it seem like the Professor was dead, but they were planning to start it all up again so maybe they –”

  “He’s dead,” I murmured.

  “We don’t know,” she said. “Hawker, perhaps we can…”

  She kept talking but I stopped listening and called out to Dante instead.

  “Look out the window, Dante.”

  Dante did what I asked him, and I went on talking, “We can’t talk about it with Hawker in the room. He’s the sheriff, so we can’t talk about it, but Jonathan Strachlan is – don’t look at me!”

  He clenched his jaws and moved until he was staring out the window again.

  “Tell Jinx he’s dead,” I urged him. “Tell her someone stood in the door to his rickety home and listened to his excuses, but didn’t hear a single thing that would justify what he’d done.”

  Jinx’ eyes met mine for a split second and then she looked straight at Hawker.

  “I don’t know, maybe he’s dead after all,” she murmured. “I just overreacted.”

  Hawker started at her for a beat, but didn’t say a word. He looked down on his lap, shook his head a little and when he raised his head again, his eyes went straight to me.

  “You've gotta be out of your fucking mind if you think I'd arrest Gideon or either of your brothers for killing that man.”

  The room went completely silent, and I felt Olly’s hand tighten around mine, so I turned and smiled ruefully at him.

  “I probably should have told you,” I whispered.

  “That would have been good,” he said.

  “Byron was dead because of him. Tommy too. Nicky was a mess, and I had barely gotten back on my feet. All the Professor had to say was that science was more important than anything and that there always were a few casualties at war.”

  I looked around the room and my eyes locked with Hawker’s.

  “Casualty at war,” I repeated. “We'd lost Byron, and that was his only excuse?”

  “Rats,” Olly said calmly.

  “What?”

  “Disgusting vermin. Hate them. Don’t mind slamming a shovel on them, cutting their heads off. Squashing them. Wouldn’t do it to a cat or a dog.” He put an arm around my shoulders and turned me toward him. “Don’t care who did it, babe. He was a rat, and he deserved what he got.”

  “Yeah,” I said on an exhale. “That’s exactly it. He was a rat.”

  I’d felt bad about not feeling bad about what had happened, but his words took a little of that load off my shoulders and I relaxed into his side. Neither my grandfather nor my brothers had killed Professor Strachlan, but Hawker seemed to have forgotten that there were others in my family. I wasn’t going to remind him.

  “You seemed so small,” Nick murmured. “In the program, you were always with Byron and he was as big as me and Tommy so you looked like a tiny slip of a girl. You’re a lot stronger than I would have guessed back then.”

  I met his calm gaze and shook my head.

  “We were all strong, Nick. We endured until Jinx closed it down. She closed him down in academic circles too.”

  “That wasn’t hard. Someone spread rumors about his fondness for young boys, though. Was it you, Annie?” Jinx asked.

  I smiled but felt my eyes burn because of what I had to tell them. I’d been sorting through the information in my databases, trying to get some closure, and I’d found a lead which I hadn’t understood before.

  “No,” I said. “It was Jamie.”

  The room went silent and then Nick asked hoarsely, “Are you sure?”

  I nodded and watched Snow grab hold of his hand and squeeze it.

  Jamie was gone. Francesco Fratinelli had put him in a boat and taken off toward open sea, and they had found pieces of the boat, and of Fratinelli, but there had been no traces of Jamie. He had been rejected by his cousin and the two women he admired more than anything and they hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about what had happened. All three had said some pretty harsh things, and they were still angry but I knew they regretted their words.

  “The dolphins say he’s not dead,” Nick murmured. “They don’t feel him anymore, but they still say they would taste it in the water if he was gone. Joao agrees and they’re looking but Jamie’s gone.”

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “I think he’s dead,” Nick said with a sigh. “He hasn’t talked to the dolphins in a long time. We all lost things in the research program, and that was his loss.” He sighed again, and added, “Maybe he let go of it willingly. He was always a little hesitant about his heritage.”

  “They’ll keep looking,” Snow said. “I think he’s alive. We’ve asked the special forces to assist, and if you could lean on them a little Hawker, it would help.”

  “They’re not happy with me at the moment,” Hawk said, and Miller chuckled softly.

  “What?”

  “Asked me to be the head of the whole godawful thing,” Hawker said.

  I blinked. Had they asked Hawker Johns to be the director for our special forces? That was a part within our armed forces which controlled the police as well as all crimes related to our borders. It was an honor bestowed upon someone by the president of our country, and leading it meant a lot of power.

  “What did you say?” Dante asked slowly.

  “Told him to fuck off. Said Mill could do it.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah,” Miller said with a grin. “I didn’t drop the f-bomb like Hawk did, but I told him I didn’t want it either. I said Kit could do it.”

  “Wh –”

  “I told him, hell no,” Kit said with a chuckle. “I said Joao should do it.”

  There was a stunned silence as grins slowly spread on everyone’s faces at the thought of how they’d made the president call man after man, offering a position most others would have jumped through hoops to get.

  “What did Joao say?” Nick asked.

  Joao Torres was Nick’s cousin and the Sheriff out on the Islands where he’d grown up. Nick looked completely stunned at the thought of him leading the special forces.

  “He’s still laughing,” Hawk said with a satisfied smile.

  “Son,” Gilmore said sternly. “Really?”

  “Da.”

  “Son.”

  “Oh, fuck it,” Hawk muttered and pulled out his phone.

  “Language,” Gilmore said, but it sounded resigned and considering the frequency with which Hawker dropped the f-bomb I could see why it would.

  “Hawker Johns,” Hawk said, and stayed silent for a while. “Yeah, apologies.” Another silence. “Hell yeah, we thought it was hilarious.” Silence. “Tucker Jones is your man.” There was another silence and I suddenly realized Hawker had our president on speed dial. “Yeah, later.”

  Then he threw the phone on the table in front of him and leaned back to put an arm around Sloane's shoulders.

  “There. Happy now?” he asked his father.

  “Very.”

  Laughter echoed in the room, but it died away and they were suddenly glancing over at me, and Mary. It took me a few stunned seconds to understand.

  “Byron would have loved that joke,” I said. “He would have wanted us to laugh. To live. We’re here today because of his sacrifice, so please. Don’t let it have been in vain. Let’s cherish our lives because that’s what he would have wanted.”

  Mary raised her glass, and said, “To Byron.”

  We all echoed her words, and the white wine topped off with sparkling water slid down my throat easily.

 
“I thought about telling them you could have done it, Dante,” Kit said with a grin. “But you might have accepted, so I settled for Joao.”

  “I would have been nicer about it than the rest of you, but I would not have accepted the position as head of special forces,” Dante said. Then he smirked and added, “The President did call me anyway.”

  “Really?” Hawker said.

  “Not about that. He asked me if I'd be interested in running for Senate.”

  We only had five districts in our small country, so the government was built up by the President and his five Senators. There was a house of representatives, and a whole legislative structure built up, but the main power in our country sat primarily with the top six elected men and women.

  A flurry of voices echoed in the room, but I leaned into Olly's side and tilted my head back. We smiled at each other, both knowing that Dante would run, and that he would win. We also knew he'd be a fantastic senator. He was born to lead and would be good for our country.

  I remembered what Cam had said about Paolo Fratinelli’s royal ambitions, and thought that if anyone was a descendant of past kings in Marshes, then it was Dante.

  “I’m not convinced yet,” Dante murmured. “I want to be sure I have a chance before I announce anything.”

  “Are you shitting me?” Wilder exclaimed. “All the gorgeousness that is you, and a genius fiancée to top that off? I’ll fucking kill everyone in the waterland district if they don’t elect you.”

  “Yeah, let’s not use that as our campaign slogan,” Jinx said and raised her glass.

  I leaned forward to take my own, when Dante straightened.

  “Jiminella d’Augustine, are you drinking alcohol?”

  Everyone froze when the implication of what he’d blurted out sank in.

  “No,” Jinx snapped. “I am drinking a glass of sneakily obtained non-alcoholic white wine spritzer, thinking that the gathering after a funeral would not be the best occasion to share with everyone that you impregnated me and consequently, and rather forcefully, dragged me off to make everything right and proper by marrying me.”