Death Wish (Reaper Reborn Book 1)

by Harper A. Brooks

  A few hours? What did this guy take me for? A hooker?

  That’s when it hit me. That was exactly what he thought I was. A lady of the night.

  My anger came hard and fast. I leapt forward, wanting nothing more than to punch the asshole square in the nose for such a remark, but Cole’s hand was quick on my upper arm to stop me. He tugged me back, making me stumble into his chest with a loud “oomph.” Before I could shove away, his mouth was on mine, and the moment I gasped, his tongue pushed past my lips for a breath-stealing kiss.

  It was so unexpected, I didn’t know what to do. My head screamed for me to fight him off. Hit him. Something. But instead, my body melted into his arms as he pulled me in closer and his hand cradled the side of my face. My mind fogged, and for those few moments, I was completely lost to this world. It was like I was passing through the spirit door again, hovering between planes, my stomach doing somersaults as it tried to determine which way was up.

  The sound of Leonard’s forced cough had Cole pulling away. Without missing a beat, he said, “We’re visiting her mother, who lives in the city. Isn’t that right, hon?”

  My heart was hammering in my chest, but Cole’s voice was smooth and convincing, spinning his lie like a spider’s web.

  I felt myself nodding in agreement, too, feeding into it even more.

  Leonard’s expression relaxed a bit.

  “If it’s really a big deal, we can go to Monty’s place next door. I’m sure he still has rooms for the night.”

  A nerve popped out of Leonard’s forehead as he gritted his teeth. Cole had obviously hit some kind of sore spot. Monty must have been a rival motel owner. The competition.

  “No, no. Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry for assuming…” He glanced at me. “I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, if I did. We just get some shady characters around here sometimes.”

  My mouth opened to curse him out, but Cole’s grip tightened on my upper arm. “It’s okay,” I mumbled instead.

  “Great!” Cole said, gently steering me toward the motel room labeled 2. “You know I don’t care for Monty’s mattresses. No support for my back.”

  Leonard smiled broadly, revealing a few missing teeth. “That’s because he stuffs them with newspaper.”

  With a quick wave, he ducked back into the office and closed the door.

  When I turned back to Cole, he had his finger to his lips, telling me to stay quiet. With a quick swipe of a plastic key, we went inside the motel room.

  The décor of the place was very simple and very…brown. One king-size bed with a beige and brown patterned quilt, tan painted walls, and an ancient box TV on an equally brown wooden dresser filled the small space. Like something out of a seventies’ sitcom. It was plain but functional and surprisingly clean. I had expected much worse.

  The moment I heard the door click shut and Cole flick the lock, I spun on him. So many things were bubbling up inside me, I was about to explode. And I pretty much did, the words spilling out of me in a jumbled rush.

  “A hooker? A hooker! He thought I was a hooker?” I gestured to my simple clothes—dark jeans, a tank top, boots, only accessorized by my leather gloves. No neon fishnets. Not even a speck of makeup on my face. “Do I really look like a hooker?” When he opened his mouth to respond, I cut him off. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

  Cole crossed his arms.

  That only fueled my annoyance. “And you—” I stepped toward him, pointing. “That kiss! What the heck was that about? You… You…”

  The slow spread of one of his sexy smiles stole the rest of my sentence. The memory of his lips on mine sprang up again, and instantly, my anger extinguished, leaving me gaping there like a fish out of water.

  Cole casually waved my accusatory finger away from his face. “I had to make it convincing. I didn’t expect you to get so flustered.”

  I paused.

  I was flustered. But why? I wasn’t sure. That kiss may have taken me off guard, but it shouldn’t have had me gushing like a teenager. Maybe it was because, deep down, I had wanted that kiss to happen, but not exactly that way. Or maybe I was disappointed in myself for not being able to control my body’s response to his touch. No man had ever made me feel so out of sync with myself. And I didn’t like it.

  “You have to know what to do and say to get what you want in my line of business. Got to be a quick thinker and an even quicker shooter.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Well, you can’t just go around kissing people. That’s not how this works.”

  He took a step closer to me, his body a breath away from mine. Close enough for me to smell his intoxicating scent again. “Really? Because I was under the impression that you enjoyed it.”

  I swallowed roughly, trying to keep myself composed. Trying but failing.

  Man, he was gorgeous. Breathtakingly handsome but with a rugged, dangerous quality that made my heart pound.

  “Or was I wrong?” Without waiting for an answer, he leaned in and captured my mouth again. Unlike last time, this kiss was hard, full of passion and urgency, as if he had been wanting to do this for a long time.

  My own desire surged, and instead of resisting, I gave into it completely, matching his movements equally. My hands snaked behind his neck and tangled in his hair.

  No longer holding back, Cole’s arms came around me and cupped my bottom, half picking me up to press me against the wall.

  I missed being alive. I missed being able to feel another person’s body against mine. It had only been a year, but so much had happened in that past year with Styx Corp. and my reaping that it felt more like a lifetime.

  Cole’s hand traveled along my thigh and guided it over his hip. That’s when I felt him, all of him, pressing against my jeans, ready and willing to take that next step with me.

  Was I really about to do this? With a person I had just met and wasn’t even sure I trusted fully?

  A strange vibration against my thigh made me hesitate. Cole did, too, pulling away from our kiss and glancing down at my jeans.

  Confused, he stepped back and let me down.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the velvet pouch I had gotten from Marla. Even in my hand, it trembled, as if something inside were trying to get out.

  Cole stared at it. “What the heck?”

  “Should we open it?”

  He pulled one of his concealed guns out of his belt, cocked it, and pointed it at my hand. “Okay, ready.”

  “Whoa, whoa!” I shouted, holding up both hands. “Let’s not get trigger happy now. It could be harmless.”

  Cole’s eyes hardened, turning all business again. “Open the top and toss the bag onto the bed. Quick. If anything jumps out, I’m shooting.”

  The bag still shook in my palm, but I did as he said, pulled the drawstring, and threw it onto the bed in the same swift motion.

  A little yellow pebble popped out and rolled halfway across the bedspread. I rushed over and snatched it before it fell onto the floor and under a piece of furniture, never to be seen again.

  “What is it?” Cole asked, his gun still hovering my way, aimed and ready.

  Standing, I studied it between my fingers. That was all it seemed to be—a rock the color of amber with a cloudy swirl in its center. A precious stone, maybe?

  “It’s just a stone or gem of some kind,” I replied. Harmless, just like I’d thought.

  On cue, the bag vibrated again, skidding across the bed some.

  Cole approached the bed cautiously, finger still on the trigger of his gun.

  Dozens of colored marbles erupted from the small pouch, covering the quilt, and spilling onto the floor. To my surprise and horror, they continued to flow out, quickly coating the dingy carpet in shiny stones.

  “What the…” I tried to dance away but was soon standing in a pool of marbles. They were everywhere.

  Finally, the last tiny ball popped out and clattered onto the floor with the rest.

  I stared at the
velvet bag, now empty, sitting at the center of the queen-size bed. How did something that could sit in the palm of my hand fit all those stones? There had to be thousands of them.

  “What was that about?” I breathed, still unsure about what I had just witnessed.

  Cole burst into a fit of laughter, his shoulders bouncing from the force of it.

  “Oh, I’m glad you think it’s funny. Our room is covered in these little balls!”

  When he could finally catch his breath, he said, “Leave it to Marla to pull something like that.”

  “What? Was this supposed to be a practical joke or something?”

  He gestured around the room. “Whoever this Mr. Johnson is, he’s obviously pissed her off. She got him what he paid for, which is obviously the bag, but she added a little extra for a bit of revenge. Very Marla-esque.”

  “So, the bag is what this Mr. Johnson wanted?” I repeated as Cole picked it up, turned it upside down, and shook it a bit. Nothing else came out. “It must be enchanted to hold more than its size.”

  “Exactly. Must have been a pricey item since it requires some powerful magic.”

  A person could hide anything in there. I wondered if something as large as a car could fit. If so, you could carry an entire vehicle in your back pocket. That was incredible.

  I walked over to Cole and snatched the bag out of his hand.

  “Hey!” he protested.

  “Marla gave it to me. It’s only fair.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Could come in handy later.” I tucked it back into my pocket as Cole holstered his gun.

  He moved toward the small bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower. Maybe you should grab some sleep since we have a busy night ahead of us.” He paused, smirking. “Or…” he drawled, “you can join me…”

  My stomach flipped at the thought, but I shook it from my head and snorted a laugh instead. “Nice try.” My smile grew anyway. “I’ll take the bed.”

  “If you change your mind…” He gestured toward the bathroom. “You know where I’ll be.”

  “Goodnight, Greg.”

  Cole laughed. “Goodnight, sweetie.”

  In the early morning darkness, we jumped into the Jeep and made our way back to Divine Magic. A thick fog clung to the cobblestone streets, and with the glow of the gas lamps lining the sidewalk, downtown Fairport looked more like a scene from a Jack the Ripper movie than anything else.

  Like before, we parked a couple of streets away from the store and walked the rest of the way. Upon first inspection, Marla had locked up for the night, even pulled the curtains closed in every window.

  “Are you ready for this?” Cole whispered as we swung around the back of the old brick building. “You remember the plan?”

  I nodded. “Keep on my toes. When the trap triggers, if it’s something physical coming at us, let you handle it with your magical bag of tricks and big, bad guns.” I gestured to the backpack in his hand. If it wasn’t for the loaded gun in his other hand, he looked just like a college pretty boy off to visit his parents for the weekend. “Anything spirit-related is my responsibility with my…” I pulled out my handy-dandy, super deadly piece of chalk and waved it at him.

  Before we had left the motel, I had tried making a quick spirit door to see if I still had that power in this state, and luckily everything worked. I could make the door open if I needed to, so at least we had that going for us. Everything else, though, was up in the air.

  “And if anything surprises us, we’ll have to wing it,” he added. He rummaged through the front pocket of his bag and pulled out a rusty, ancient-looking key. Intrigued, I watched him hold it to the door’s thick padlock.

  There was no way a medieval key was going to fit into a modern lock that was three times smaller than it. But somehow, Cole pushed the key in, twisted, and the lock popped open.

  I stood there, shocked.

  Cole glanced at me, smiling. “Enchanted key. Can open any lock. Even ones locked with magic. A handy tool in my line of work.”

  My eyes widened. “How did you manage to get your hands on that?”

  “I did some work for a level three sorcerer and accepted it for payment.”

  Funny how he said “did some work” like he’d mowed his lawn or tinkered with his car. Not killed someone.

  “If you have the ability to open any lock, why do you keep breaking the one on Wyatt’s gate?”

  His grin was slow and deliberate. “I like busting his chops.”

  Cautiously, Cole pushed open the door all the way, revealing the back room behind the counter, exactly where we needed to be. The space was small, dark, and lined with crowded shelves.

  The air shimmered slightly, revealing the magic at play. I was hoping it was just a mirage spell, only meant to take the appearance of something else and distract an onlooker. But if Marla was as devious as Cole said, there had to be a more dangerous trap waiting for us beyond the door.

  Cole put the key away, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and held up his gun again before stepping inside. I followed close behind.

  The room appeared to be just big enough for the two of us at first, but to the left, the wall of shelves shifted before my eyes, revealing a hidden space behind it, also covered in different jars, dried plants, and sacks full of God knows what. And a small shrouded figure lying in the center of the floor, not moving.

  A shiver of foreboding shot down my spine.

  “Are you seeing that? There’s someone back there,” I whispered to Cole.

  He nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Marla has someone locked up back here.” We approached the hologram wall cautiously. It was difficult for me to imagine Marla, who looked more like a soccer mom than a dangerous witch, would keep prisoners locked in some back room, but I’d helped a lot of people cross over whose personalities didn’t match their appearances.

  I mean, look at Cole.

  Better yet, look at me.

  When we passed through the bewitched wall, magic caressed my skin, making goose bumps rise. Like stepping through a waterfall or spiderweb.

  I tried to shake the strange feeling off as we crept closer to the person lying soundlessly on the ground. Cole’s gaze swept the shelves, his hand steady on his weapon just in case another trap tripped. I couldn’t take my eyes off the figure.

  When I spotted the mousey brown bob and pink ruffled collar peeking out from underneath the carelessly tossed, blood-soaked blanket, my chest constricted.

  It was Marla.

  She was dead.

  As a reaper, I knew death, and Marla was most certainly dead.

  Walking around her unmoving body, I took in the pool of blood underneath her chest, her blouse that I had thought as PTA mom-ish only hours ago now shredded into strips and stained red. Three deep slash marks raked from her stomach to her sternum—claw marks, like from an animal.

  Shit, was that a part of her intestine peeking out from one of them?

  Fear gripped me.

  I swallowed the bile creeping up my throat. I’d seen many deaths in my year as a reaper. Some more gruesome than this. But for some reason, knowing I had just interacted with Marla only hours ago and now she had been gutted from chest to belly button made uneasiness stir inside me.

  What animal could have done something like that?

  Maybe it wasn’t an animal but some kind of creature.

  A supernatural creature.

  My thoughts shot back to the horrifying Halflings crawling out of the Hell hole on Wyatt’s property. Their gray scaly skin, black, soulless eyes, and pointed teeth were things of nightmares. They had claws, too, didn’t they? But why attack Marla?

  My stomach dropped at the idea of possibly leading those hellions straight into Marla’s shop and causing her death. This could be my fault.

  Cole came to my side and let out a deep breath. “You’re thinking it, too, aren’t you? Halflings. This looks like their work.”

  He pointed to a smear of blood that left
a trail out of the back room, toward the main shop. “She wasn’t killed here, though. She was dragged here afterwards.”

  I nodded slowly, my mind not really grasping what he was saying.

  “Marla’s a tough cookie. She wouldn’t go down without a fight,” he said.

  “But if she was ambushed…”

  “That’s the big question, now isn’t it?”

  A loud crash sounded in the main shop, followed by a guttural, unnatural snarl.

  Cole held up his gun, aiming it at the beaded curtain separating the two rooms.

  Shadows jumped on the other side. Not just one either. Many.

  Dread crawled up my spine. “I think we’re going to find the answer sooner rather than later.”

  Cole gripped his gun tighter, although his face was smooth of any fear. I tried to imitate his composure, but my insides were trembling. I stepped behind him and held out my hands, hoping whatever I had done back at Wyatt’s trailer would work again here.

  More crashing and glass shattering.

  Slowly, a shadow elongated in the corner near the door until it formed into a skinny, stick-like leg, reminding me of some kind of mutant spider’s. Then the shadow stretched to form another. Then another. Until one of those hideous Halflings stepped into the back room, his head swiveling our way instantly.

  I held my breath.

  When its eyeless gaze rolled over us, unseeing, I didn’t move. The magic concealing the back room seemed to be confusing it enough to conceal us, too. Every muscle tensed, and beside me, Cole was just as rigid.

  The creature lifted its head, and its slit for nostrils flared open slightly as it sniffed.

  Its head whipping our way, it let out a piercing screech and charged.

  “Get ready!” Cole shouted, shooting at the Halfling. It scurried up the shelf to avoid the bullet. Cole shot again and nailed it in the shoulder. The skin sizzled, and it fell to the floor screaming.

  But the victory was short-lived, because in the next second, more of the shadowy creatures were sliding through the beaded doorway, their transparent forms appearing like drifting smoke at first before gaining depth and revealing their truly horrifying features.