Raven's Breath (The Women of Purgatory) (3 page)

Shortly after I was recruited, a bunch of
phenoms found a way to break loose from their Reapers in New Orleans. In order to stop them from overrunning the city as ghosts, Death sent me on the first ever gathering mission, giving me yet another perk to do the job. Reaper ribbons were smoky black tendrils that looked like the phenoms themselves, but were actually attached to me. When projected, they wrapped around the souls who'd fled, allowing me to snag and transport them back to Purgatory when no one else could. Ever since, I was the one they called to track down the runners whenever a breakout occurred.

Maybe that was why Krev had such a problem with me. Not only did I have wings when he didn't, but I'd also received a second perk from Death. I couldn't imagine his hate was born from something as petty as jealousy, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe it
was
that simple.

"Fuck you, Raven. You think you're so special, but even if Death did let you date, nobody would want you. Guess it's a good thing you like being alone!"

The fissure his words caused within me elicited a strange dueling reaction. My first thought was to rip him limb from limb, but at the same time, I wanted to spread my wings, burst free of this place, fly home, and cry my eyes out. I, of course, could do neither.

Reapers weren't allowed to fight without immediate punishmen
t, and I would never give him the satisfaction of seeing how his digs affected me. So I stood, frozen; words of retaliation crystallizing on my tongue.

4

After Garrett read Krev the riot act, making sure to use as many expletives as he could, we continued our "relaxing" evening back at my place with a bottle of wine.

"Thanks for standing up for me back there, Gar. If I'd have opened my mouth, even for a second, I would've ended up beating the shit out of him and spent the weekend being punished for it."

"
You're welcome. Krev’s a douche and deserves all the crap he gets."

Garrett and I laughed and talked the rest of the night away. I threw a blanket over him once he fell asleep. His broad shoulders filled the width of my small couch and his long legs dangled off the edge.

Garrett may be a pencil pusher for all intents and purposes, but he was one of those hot geeky types that when you looked close enough, you could see he had a real Clark Kent/Superman vibe going on. He was tall and built, with dark hair and beautiful blue eyes. I loved him, in a big-brother sort of way, and times like these only solidified how lucky I was to have him in my life. I smiled wide, grateful for a pleasant end to a hectic day.

I entered my bedroom and caught sight of the phenoms floating gently outside my open window.
They may be lost souls, but once they entered Purgatory, any connection to their Reaper was severed and they simply became smoke-like clouds that drifted peacefully throughout the sky.

I debated
taking a brief flight amongst them, but decided against it when my eyelids drooped. Instead, I wrapped my wings around myself and crawled straight into bed.

Images of a woman filled my dreams. She was standing in front of a mirror, her back to me, primping and preening at her own reflection. I couldn't make out her face, but she was lithe, with long platinum hair, and wings as white as a new-fallen snow.

This was the new female Reaper Death was recruiting, I was sure of it. As if he'd heard my thoughts, Death appeared from the shadows and came to stand behind the woman. He placed his hands on her shoulders and whispered something in her ear. I couldn't hear his words but the slight roll of her hips made it clear they'd been sexual in nature.

My dream shifted and was replaced by a memory, one of me standing in Death's chamber declining his latest advance. Images flickered behind my eyelids. The words
"I'll never be interested in being anything other than your employee,"
tumbled from my lips. The replay was disjointed, skipping from moment to moment. I'd been as polite as possible when he'd started hitting on me after forbidding anyone else from doing so, and even managed to maintain my sickeningly sweet smile as I walked out of the room. His low chuckle, echoing behind me, had sent goose bumps racing over my skin. For me, that was the moment Death had become the bad guy history portrayed him to be.

I bolted upright, my chest heaving. I swear I could still hear his sinister laugh resonating inside my head. I grabbed my gray silk robe and padded into the bathroom. A quick splash of ice cold water on my face helped to ease the tension. I looked into the mirror and had an epiphany.

Death was lonely.

5

The carpet beneath my feet was worn thin by the time I heard the rustling of blankets and sounds of Garrett stretching.
Finally!
I threw open my door and rushed into the living room, ready to begin my interrogation.

"Has Death ever dated anyone?" I blurted out.

Garrett looked up at me with a bewildered look on his face. "What?"

"I want to know if Death has ever dated or been in love with anyone."

He shook his head and repositioned himself upright on the couch, untwisting his wrinkled plaid shirt and smoothing the legs of his jeans. "Um...not that I recall. Why?"

"I think I figured out why he wants a new
female
Reaper." I crossed my arms and wiggled my eyebrows.

Garrett's laugh was
boisterous and I suddenly felt less like Sherlock Holmes and more like Inspector Clouseau from the Pink Panther movies.

"I'm serious! For years after I was recruited, he would always hit on me and last night I had a dream that this new female was going to be filling a very specific
position
for him, if you know what I mean."

Garrett pushed off the couch and headed for the kitchen, pouring us both a cup of coffee. "I don't know, Raven. Maybe. But you just said it was a dream, so I highly doubt the woman you saw was actually 'the one.'"

"Well, she had platinum hair, a white satin dress, and white wings, so I'm pretty sure it was her. Besides, my dreams have been more than just dreams lately, you know that."

For the past few months, ever so often, one of my dreams would end up being
a presentiment. I'd catch a glimpse of someone and later that day, during a retrieval, I'd end up face-to-face with that same person. I'd contemplated asking Death if it was another perk he'd bestowed upon me, but since it had happened only a few times I'd decided not to bother.

"Okay, fine. But if it is her, so what? She can be Death's girlfriend and you can continue to do your job with no reason to feel threatened. Unless of course you're rethinking Death's propositions?"

Coffee spewed from my lips. "Are you insane? I would never, and I mean NEVER, date Death. EVER."

Garrett laughed. "Now you sound like that Taylor Swift girl."

By the time we finished cracking ourselves up and eating our sausage links, French toast, and scrambled eggs, I was feeling lighter and excited to start my vacation. It had been so long since I'd had more than a single night off, I'd painstakingly scheduled my three-day weekend to include as many activities as I could.

First on the list was a stop at Drey's Boutique. Drey was a wiz on the sewing machine, and I was in need of some new clothes.

"You hanging with me all day, or do you have stuff to do?" I asked Garrett.

"I would love to but I have to head to work for a meeting with the big guy. I can catch up with you after that, though, if you'd like."

"Okay. Buzz me when you're done and I'll let you know where I'm at."

"Sounds good." Garrett kissed my cheek and saw himself out.

I finished cleaning our dishes then took a quick shower. I dressed in minutes. My ripped jeans, gray suede boots, and soft v-neck T-shirt were a welcome change from my usual leathers.

All my clothes had to be custom made, due to my wings, hence my visit to Drey's.

I walked through the shop door, smiling when the little bell announced my presence.

"Raven! How are you, beautiful?"

Drey was one of the few Reapers Death used for business purposes instead of field work. Just like Garrett, he had a nine-to-five job. He was a tall black man with a bald head and a heart of gold.

"Hi, Drey. I'm good, thank you. Just looking for some new leathers."

"Fantastic. Flip that lock and let's get started, girl."

I did as he asked and stripped down to my bra and underwear. I'd never been self-conscious about my body, but especially not in front of Drey, seeing I wasn't his "type."

"How's business?"

"Not bad, considering the only thing I have to do is provide you with custom shirts, Death with designer suits, and supply all these gorgeous Reapers with a replacement cloak every now and then."

I laughed, shifting slightly on my feet. I doubted any of the jobs here in Purgatory were actually enjoyable when you considered the monotony.

After an extravagant wave of his hand, Drey got right down to business. He re-measured me, though in death my size would never change. I'm sure the habit was just that...a
habit
from his previous life as a tailor.

I stood stock still while he draped me in swaths of new material, the buttery leather cool and soft against my skin.

In no more than thirty-five minutes I was redressed with a bag of shirts and a time to pick up my new designs in a few days.

"Thanks again, Drey," I said, zipping up my boots.

"You're..."

A knock on the door drew our attention.

"Raven, could you get that, please?" Drey called from behind the counter.

"Sure."

The man behind the glass was holding a large flat box. I smiled and unlocked the door. He handed me the parcel and held out a slip of paper for me to sign. Drey crossed the room and reached for the slip but not before I caught a glimpse of the signature on it.

It was Garrett's.

My curiosity shot through the roof. I waved goodbye to the man and turned back to Drey. "Oohh, what's in the box?"

"Actually, I'm not sure."