Destined to Reap (Reaping Fate Book 3)

by Kinsley Burke

  “Off to somewhere?”

  Maude paying attention to my schedule rather than bypassing me with brisk clattering heels was on the side of oh, hell… this ain’t good. The normal barricading of herself behind a closed office door, forgetting my name until she was ready for a coffee, was apparently not on her list of to-dos, but I could have sworn I’d scheduled the task on her calendar.

  “Your first appointment is at eleven o’clock, Ms. Taggart.” I handed over a folder. “Inside you’ll find additional information on Brett Cook. Didn’t you mention Miranda Walter the other day after Brett’s initial interview?”

  “Hmmm…” Maude’s lips pursed as she took the folder from my grasp, knowing darn well she hadn’t. Her eyes were an unblinking stare, taking in every detail of the perspiring mess I’d become in the past five seconds of her oh-crap-is-she-going-to-fire-me entrance into the lobby.

  “I made a list of all the common interests Ms. Walter shares with Mr. Cook…”

  The additional pages were jerked from my hand, and Maude cast a quick scan at the list before saying, “The Bennett engagement dinner.”

  “I thought perhaps—”

  “Thought what, precisely?”

  Mouth clamped shut because really… I had nothing. Zilch. The Bennett wedding having been last on my priority list. Yet that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try to conjure some butt-saving brilliant idea to save that very ass of mine. Except the chance to miraculously prove myself was never given.

  Maude shifted back, her nose tilting up a smidgen higher. “Trashae booked 321 Lloyds Prime.”

  “A private room?”

  “The entire restaurant.”

  On a Friday night? Holy… If I hadn’t declared Trashae public enemy number one, I’d be rather impressed.

  “The two of you are scheduled to meet with the manager this Friday afternoon to discuss the details. The dinner is only a week away, and with already having the embarrassment of late invitations, the event had better be perfect.”

  “Do you need for me—”

  “Trashae has everything handled. She’s in charge.” Maude turned toward her office before glancing back. “And Kiara?”

  “Yes, Ms. Taggart?”

  “Bring me a coffee.”

  As long as I had legs to walk on for a cup of java, the job would remain mine. I hoped. Nerves were soothed upon hearing the hard slam of one fake-psychic’s office door as it shut, which in turn sent Legs scurrying. In the direction that took me out of the suite, but not toward Java Addiction.

  First things first. I had a bank to rob. Or a safe deposit box to illegally empty, at least. Trying to save the world was certainly wreaking havoc on my moral compass. No matter, someday I’d earn a medal or a plaque for preventing Earth’s soil from becoming brimstone. The sacrifices that I now took to keep air conditioning from becoming a heatstroke-preventing requirement for humans would eventually become acknowledged. Every dang thing I was being forced into as the unlucky family member to inherit the curse would soon be praised. That day would come.

  Except not today. Miss Prim being camped out inside the front entrance to the bank, was a good heads-up that all wasn’t going to ghostly plan. Her being covered in black from head to toe—minus her pale face peeping out between a black sock cap and an upturned black collar—was enough to give me pause—but that wasn’t what made my feet become more hesitant with each step through the door. Margaret stood on Miss Prim’s left, dressed exactly the same as when she’d proofed out of Maude’s office ten minutes earlier. However, bulging eyes set in an unblinking stare was a new look for the ghost. As usual, it was HG who caused the shivers to leave the start line of the 5k racing across the skin of my arms. The Hell-obsessed ghost appeared terrified, yet he stood in front of Miss Prim and Margaret with a hand held out, much like a protective gesture.

  “New Girl. Interesting finding you here.”

  Breath halted as I inwardly cringed. Turning toward Psycho Bitch, I forced my facial muscles to relax into neutral. My best effort, at least. “Ah, you do have a job. A productive member of society, I’m happy to discover.”

  Psycho Bitch’s mouth curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Hell, it barely passed her lips. Settling back in a chair, the Praedator stared at me from behind a large desk tucked into the corner of the lobby. A rail-thin woman stood hovering by the psycho’s side. Much like when we first met, Psycho Bitch had control of the room. Instead of a Catholic priest rushing to do the half-demon’s every bidding, she now had an entire staff of bank employees. Every last one of them, including the tellers tucked behind the counter, kept their nervous gazes focused only on the Praedator.

  “Kiara, dear, come and have a seat.” Psycho Bitch turned to Frail Woman. “Jane, Kiara would like a cup of coffee.”

  “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  “Oh, but I insist. Cream or sugar?”

  “Really, I’m—”

  “Jane would like to make you a cup of coffee. It’s going to waste, and I’d hate for her to chug the pot down before it spoils.”

  “I’m sure there will be other customers who will enjoy having a cup.”

  “Not before it spoils.” Her lips hardened into a thin line. “I don’t like waste.”

  Jane’s light gaze darted a nervous glance to the back of the room. A table set with paper cups and a coffee pot—a full pot to be precise—lined the far wall. Knowing Psycho Bitch, she’d make the woman chug the hot liquid as if we were at some sort of college keg party.

  Shit. What kind of control did this cambion have on people? I took a seat in the requested chair. “Cream, I’ll take cream in my coffee.”

  Jane left her perch to fetch the requested drink, and I caught the barely audible sigh she heaved in passing. Psycho Bitch leaned forward in her chair and squirmed happily as if we were about to have some serious BFF girl talk. “Do those three belong to you? Never would I have guessed you had friends. You appear as such a loner, New Girl. All sad and lonely, like a lost puppy dog.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Dark eyebrows lifted. “Working, wasn’t it? All productive.”

  “For some reason, I find it hard to believe you’d work in a bank. You’d be bored within ten minutes.”

  “Five, actually, but who’s counting?”

  “So what do I owe this pleasure?” I flashed a sympathetic grin at Jane as she returned and handed over my coffee.

  “Oh, but did you not come to visit me? I believe I was here first after all.”

  “I had no reason to expect you inside a bank,” I said. “I assumed you’d be off hunting down my mark before I found him.”

  A soft tisking sound came through red painted lips. “Still haven’t caught him? What is this, day three?”

  “Two. I still have time.”

  “Perhaps I should make an effort to help you, New Girl.”

  “Why do I suspect that if you capture my mark before I can, things won’t bode well for me?”

  Her lips curved up in a Cheshire smile, as if she’d nabbed a pot of cream. “You really are quite clever, aren’t you? He never gives you credit.”

  “Who? Damon?”

  The beautiful features of her face turned harsh. “I do not know of whom you speak.”

  “Cut the crap.” I leaned forward and stared her in the eye. “You’ve let it slip one too many times that you communicate with Damon Reed. Oh… but I’m not supposed to know about your relationship, am I? He wants it kept a secret, and you’ve gone and spoiled it.”

  Pitch black eyes flashed, but then the Praedator leaned back and let out a soft laugh. Her head nodded in the direction of the ghosts remaining frozen near the front entrance. “Your friend over there has shown quite the interest in banks. Vaults specifically.”

  “Oh?” My eyebrows rose. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “The first time I saw him, I thought to myself, why would a ghost be interested in a bank vault?”

  “Perhaps he has a fascination with
concrete and heavy locks? Perhaps he died inside of one and is unable to let the past go? Perhaps—”

  “Then I discovered him studying the safe at another bank of mine a day or two later, and I thought—”

  “How many banks do you do business in?” I asked.

  “Why, however many I require. They’re all very accommodating whenever I’m in need of cash. Isn’t that sweet?”

  “So you go around stealing money from banks by putting the fear of the devil inside the tellers. Go on.”

  A low growl sounded from the Praedator’s throat, and Jane flew back and smashed into a nearby wall. “Don’t piss me off, New Girl. Now, where was I?”

  I slid a glance at Jane, who was huddled into a shivering ball on the carpeted floor. The woman’s first experience with telekinesis from a crazy psycho, no doubt. From personal experience, I knew that smack had hurt.

  “You were explaining all of the banks you visit on a weekly basis,” I said.

  “I do visit a few, but that wasn’t the point of my discussion.” She paused, and her gaze lifted back to the ghosts behind me. “He interests me. What could a ghost who appears to have died over a hundred years ago want with a bank vault? What is it he searches for? A puzzle, see? Isn’t this fun?”

  “No.”

  Psycho Bitch frowned. “I must admit that you appearing today is quite the surprise. It gives new possible reasons for why your ghostly friend over there is haunting down the perfect bank vault.”

  “He has nothing to do with why I’m here today.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “To open a safe deposit box.”

  “Hmmm…” The Praedator folded her hands across the desktop as she studied me. “Jane, quit quivering like a child. Kiara would like to open a safe deposit box.”

  I turned in my seat and flicked a quick glance back to HG, who gave a slight what-do-we-do shrug of his shoulders. Plan was gone with a Praedator inside the room who could watch one ghostly man sneak a pair of keys into the vault. Improvisation it was. Shit, I sucked at that crap. Drawing in a determined breath, I faced my adversary. “The smallest box you have, please.”

  “I… ID.” The tremble in Jane’s voice almost rivaled her body’s terrified jerks. Almost.

  I handed over ID, filled out paperwork, and then passed over my sorely abused debit card to pay for the rental. An interested gleam remained lit in Psycho Praedator’s dark eyes. Waiting for my end game. What was it? Even I hadn’t a clue.

  Slowing my breath, I focused on the intent stare from the Praedator before my own eyes slowly closed. I reopened them to find myself standing inside the vault in an off-colored future reality. Both Jane and Psycho Bitch were at my side as Jane pulled out a box for me.

  “What are you filling it with, New Girl? Jewels? I prefer emeralds myself.”

  “Not your business. Please leave.” I took my newly rented box from Jane’s hands and set it on a small table.

  “Now that wouldn’t be any fun.”

  “That’s bank procedure.”

  “I can access your box at any time, you know.”

  “Yes, I know.” I motioned to the door. “And it will be much more thrilling to go through my personal items once I’ve left instead of hovering over my shoulder.”

  “That is true.”

  “Of course, it is.” I took a step back toward the vault entrance and made an exaggerated peep out into the lobby to check on the ghosts. All three remained in their spot. No poofing had occurred. None of them appeared to be finding amusement with the show yet they still hung around. Huh.

  Psycho Bitch’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’re up to something, New Girl. No one walks into a bank with three ghosts without a reason.”

  Pivoting on a foot, the Praedator strolled off with a still nervous Jane tagging behind. Focusing hard on the frail woman’s hand, time slowed until it stopped. The urge was strong to use the moment for sticking my sword into the stilled Praedator’s black heart, but I refrained. Instead, I slipped the set of bank keys from Jane’s loose grasp. There was no way to know if this last-minute idea had any potential of being pulled off, but I damn well had to try. I shoved the key ring inside the empty safe deposit box and closed my eyes.

  Psycho Bitch was seated behind the desk when my eyelids reopened. “Looking a bit faint there, New Girl.”

  “I’m good.”

  “Great. We’ll find you the perfect box.” She stood. “This should be fun. Jane, grab the keys.”

  My breath stilled as I darted a nervous glance at the small cabinet the bank employee walked to. The key box HG had mentioned previously. The one, where if all had been going to plan, HG would have been sneaking master keys out from as soon as the employee returned from escorting me into the vault. Except now the keys were inside the box I had yet to touch because I’d put them inside one during a future visit.

  Jane pulled back the unlocked door to the key storage box and reached for the ones in question. They were there… hanging on a peg and ripe for Jane’s picking. Well, hell. Plan B was officially off-kilter. Did something change that prevented future me from swiping the keys? I eased the agitated tapping the toe of my right shoe made on the floor and focused on a Plan C. Would I be able to slip the highly in-demand keys from Jane when she later exited the vault? No time-stopping would occur during the present. Psycho Bitch was keeping a hawkish eye on me. Each movement I made was no doubt being analyzed for my bank appearance motives—the ones the Praedator was determined to figure out. I was more determined to keep them secret.

  “Let’s go catch a box.”

  “I don’t think they run,” I said, following the two women.

  “Lighten up, New Girl. You’re always so serious. I don’t know what he sees in you…”

  Psycho Bitch’s lips curled, making her beautiful face look downright ugly. With a clenched jaw, she jerked away and turned her back while Jane pulled out my newly rented box. It had to be Damon the Praedator spoke of, but there had seemed to be a hint of jealousy in her tone of voice. Which was odd since I was no competition for the Warlock’s favor. Damon and the psychotic witch—who came with a ten foot tall capitalized B in front of her name—were the perfect match in Hades as far as I was concerned.

  “What are you filling it with, New Girl? Jewels? I—”

  “I’m out of emeralds today. Sorry.”

  The Praedator’s face froze for a split second before her features relaxed into a deep frown. “Oh, pooh. Here I thought to add to my collection.”

  “Please leave.”

  “Now that wouldn’t be any fun.”

  “That’s bank procedure.”

  “I can access your box at any time, you know.”

  “Yes, I know.” I motioned toward the door. “And it will be much more thrilling to go through my personal items once I’ve left instead of hovering over my shoulder. Perhaps you ought to check on my friends. Whyever would I show up to a bank with three dead escorts?”

  Psycho Bitch’s dark brow furrowed. “I’m watching you, New Girl.”

  “It isn’t me you need to be watching.”

  Several moments passed before the crazy psycho turned and marched back into the bank lobby. Jane fell into step behind.

  Now or never… Reaching out, I made for the keys I knew to be in Jane’s left hand. They weren’t there. Her relaxed hand was empty of the cut silver she’d held moments before as she followed Psycho Bitch out the vault door. Her light-colored eyes focused only on the back of the dark head moving in front of her.

  Turning back to the metal box, I flipped up the lid and stared at the ring of keys nestled inside. Just as I’d placed them in my vision.

  Telekinesis, take that. Ha!

  There was no time to brag to the psychotic witch that my superpower was better than hers. HG had informed me of the box number, and it took only seconds to locate. A single item rested inside the small box. Worn paper that was tri-folded, opening flat to reveal a map.

  “What are you
looking for Jane?” Psycho Bitch’s voice carried into the vault. “Why aren’t you standing by my side like a good puppy dog?”

  Jeez. That woman and her obsession with dogs. She probably had a house full of them—all Rottweilers and Dobermans that she scared the shit out of while treating them like cuddly little teddy bears.

  Realization for the why Jane wasn’t at the Praedator’s current beck and call struck. Hello, lost keys? Hands quickened their pace as I tucked the map into my purse and shoved Todd’s box back into its slot. Locking the outer door to the box, I then eased toward the opening to the vault. I hung to the left and kept out of direct sight as I approached the entrance. Quietly setting on the floor the missing item in question, I gave them a hard kick. The carpet prevented a long-distance journey back into the lobby, but it also muffled the sound of the rattling objects knocking into each other as they slid.

  “New Girl,” Psycho Bitch’s voice rang out. “Have you seen… Why, Jane. Here they are on the floor. Are important keys supposed to be on the floor?”

  The muffled sound of Jane’s voice made its way to my ears.

  “Speak up, Jane. You know I do not like whimpering.”

  Shoulders tightened as I heard a scream emerge from the lobby. Reaching back into my purse, I felt around until I pulled out a discarded napkin left from a lunch three days before. Locating a pen was next. Writing out a message to the evil psychotic bitch was third. Finally, I crammed the note into my fifty dollar box and shut the lid right as the Praedator entered the vault.

  “I’m ready for Jane to lock up my box.”

  “I’m afraid Jane’s a bit indisposed. Meg will see to the task.” Psycho Bitch snapped her fingers, and a woman who barely appeared eighteen entered the room. Her eyes remained downcast as she took the box from me and locked it in its slot before handing back my key.

  Stomach turned queasy as fear for the missing frail woman gnawed my gut. “Where is Jane?”