Reaper's Vow (28 page)

“Da—darn.” He ruffled Wendy's hair. “I guess I need new threats.”

Miranda snapped out the shirt. “What's your solution?”

Irritation, exhaustion, confusion, and . . . fear? All came off her in waves, pricking at him, drawing him. He didn't like her upset. He walked toward her.

“How about . . .” he hooked his hand behind Miranda's neck, tilted her head back, pulled her to the right around the dying fire, and kissed her softly on her lips, her nose, her cheek before pulling her in for a hug. She melted against his free side. Her energy calmed. And oddly enough so did his.

“That's your solution?” Miranda asked again, looking up at him from the hollow of his shoulder.

“Well,” he said, “I'm also thinking that maybe I could take over your job at the laundry, and Wendy and you could go down to the pond and catch a quick dip.”

“Oh, yes.” Wendy bounced and kicked. “Let's, Mommy.”

Miranda just blinked. “Laundry is women's work.”

“Work is work, and it's not like Addy and I haven't done laundry before. It will be like old times. Won't it, Addy?”

“Of course.”

The look she sent him said she knew what he was up to, and it would cost him. He didn't care. There were a lot of things he didn't understand about the situation he was in, things he needed to know. A fresh perspective would help.

Wendy was all for the idea, bouncing in his arms, pushing against him, trying to get down, he realized. He let her.

Miranda said, “I can do my work.”

“Yes, you can. So can I, and”—he pushed the hair off her face—“a little bit of freshening wouldn't hurt you.”

That snapped her head up, as he'd known it would.

“Are you saying I stink?”

He raised an eyebrow. “There's a distinct scent of bluing about you.”

For a second she fluttered as if she didn't know whether to hug him or push him away. She settled for the latter. He allowed her a couple inches before stroking his thumb over her cheek. “Go have some fun with your daughter.”

“I can't go play in the water in the middle of the afternoon with work still undone.”

“The work will be done.”

“By you?” She set her hands on her hips. “And who will be doing your work?”

“My work is done for the day.”

“Then why don't you go splash in the water with Wendy?”

“Because I'm not the one who's been standing over the fire on a hot day, whose temper is worn to a frazzle, who's worried and hot and miserable, and who's longing to jump into that pond but stubbornly refusing to go because she thinks I'll somehow think less of her.”

She blinked at him.

“Do I have it about right?”

“You don't always have to be right,” she pointed out disgruntledly.

“I know. But I enjoy it.” He pushed her toward Wendy who was impatiently dancing in place. “Go have some fun.”

Miranda walked away. Slowly.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Addy said, “So, what about me? Don't I look hot and sticky?”

She did. “That you do.”

“And don't I deserve a cooling break?”

“Yes, you do.”

Arching her brows at him, she asked, “But?”

He smiled. “But I need some questions answered first.”

Addy nodded. “I figured as much.” She handed him the stick for dragging the sheets out of the pot.

He held it up. “Gonna cost me, huh?”

She nodded again and went and sat on the stump next to it. “As you said, it's hot, and this is heavy work, and you clearly have more muscle than me.”

“You're a Reaper.”

She shrugged. “You're human. Are going to fight over the semantics? Work is work.”

He smiled and fished out a sheet and dropped it into the rinse cauldron.

“You know I'll always make things easier for you if I can.”

“I know; it's one of your more endearing qualities.”

He watched as Miranda stripped Wendy down to her bloomers and chemise and hung her dress on a bush.

“I know you want to make things easy for Miranda and Wendy, too,” Addy said softly, her gaze following his. “That's not as easy as taking over the laundry.”

“Maybe it's not supposed to be.”

“There's always a price for happiness, Cole.”

“And you think I need to pay it?”

Addy shrugged. “I think you're deciding whether you want to pay it or not and until you do, no amount of argument will persuade you.”

“If the price is turning Reaper, the answer is hell no. I am who I am, and if that's not good enough, then I need to take my family and move on.”

He dragged a sheet out of the cold water. Addy stood up. He shook his head.

“It takes two to wring that out.”

“No, it just takes one person willing to get wet.” He smiled at her. “And it's a damn hot day.”

He wrestled the sheet, folded it in half, and started twisting it from the top. Water spewed over him, and even lukewarm it felt good, soaking his pants, dripping into his boots. Hell, he hadn't thought of that. He took a second to sit down, kicked one boot off, then the other, until he was barefoot in the dirt. Now the water could drip all it wanted.

“I wondered if you were going to save those boots.”

“You knew I would.”

“I remember when you got them.”

“So do I. The Christmas before Isaiah came.”

“He was actually already here on Christmas.”

“You just didn't know it.”

She nodded.

He chuckled and shook his head “And here I thought the ‘Harry' you were leaving food out for was a stray cat.”

She smiled. “Well, he was a stray, and I did bring him home.”

“Are you happy, Addy?” Cole had to ask even though every bit of her energy and every bit of her life force said she was.

“I am.”

“And you don't mind that you're Reaper?”

“I don't mind it a bit. I was scared for so long, lost to myself for so long. I had my rituals, but they were all I had, and it all just felt so fragile.” She raised her hands and dropped them in her lap. “Do you understand what I'm saying?”

He understood because he'd been there, and he'd seen the tenuous thread that held her to sanity. Everything always had to be perfect; everything had to be done just right. Always clean, always neat, always on schedule.

“With Isaiah it's okay to be me. He doesn't mind my rituals.”

He tossed the sheet over the line. “I never minded your rituals.”

“I know you didn't mind them, but to you it was never right that I needed to have them. You always felt so guilty.”

“I should have been there.”

“And maybe I shouldn't have been where I was, who knows? Things happen, life changes us, and we go on. And I like this change. I'm happy.”

He fished out another sheet. “What changed Isaiah?”

“I was wondering when you were going to ask that.” She came up and grabbed the other end of the sheet. “Don't fuss, it will go faster if we do it together. And it's easier for me to work when talking about difficult things.”

“I know.”

“I don't know everything that happened. I know his memory of his life before he was changed is sketchy, but he wasn't happy. He was alone, and he was hurting, and he was angry.”

“All the Reapers seem angry.”

She nodded. “I think that was the criteria when they were chosen.”

“And how did they know to make them Reapers?”

“I don't know. He doesn't know, either. No one knows.”

“Blade implied there might be others. Older, more established Reapers.”

“That makes sense. The blood that they used to change them had to come from somewhere.”

“They didn't just change their blood though, did they?”

She shook her head. “No. They tortured them to break their minds, then they re-created them as monsters.”

Her expression sobered. “I think for a while there wasn't much to Isaiah beyond the monster they wanted him to be.”

“So what happened?”

“Another awful thing. He was imprisoned at Andersonville during the war. They kept him in a hole in the ground, and he went crazy.”

“Crazy or crazier?”

“I don't know. His energy when he talks about that . . .” She shivered. “In his mind there are violent flashes of all kinds of stuff. Past, present. Whole streams of emotions. I can't read it. It's just chaos.”

“Damn.”

“What you never understood about him, Cole, is he is who he is, but that person is based on what he's built. Not on a foundation of faltering memories.”

“Fuck.”

“What?”

He sighed. “I'm trying not to like the man, you know.”

“I know, but he's a good man.”

“Yeah. But he's a mean son of a bitch.”

“Not to me.”

“Good.”

“Somehow in that craziness, when he was locked in that dark hole with nothing but bugs and dirt and mold, he found himself.” She looked at him. “That's the impression I get, by the way. When he thinks on it. Bugs, dirt and mold, and the walls closing in.”

Cole knew how that felt. “He still doesn't like dark places.”

“I know.”

“Doesn't stop him though.”

“Would it stop you?”

He smiled and twisted the sheet, waiting as the water dripped. “Not a bit. And thanks.”

“For what?”

“For making me feel important in that mighty shadow Isaiah casts.”

“You are the man against whom I always judged all other men. You know that. You might be my cousin, but you were like my big brother, the one who made me feel safe, the one who came for me when nobody else would, the one who never gave up.”

“Reese and Ryan didn't give up, either.”

“I know, but they might have eventually.”

“No, you underestimate them. They are happy to let me do the managing when I'm around, but when I'm not, they're Cameron to the core.”

“Probably, but Isaiah is like that, too. What's his stays his, and he'll die protecting it.”

Cole looked around the ragtag settlement of huts and tents. “And all these people are his?”

“Yes. And the dream. He wants normal. They might not have had a choice about being Reaper, but they have a choice about being normal.”

“Reaper law is pretty absolute.”

“But the people within it are so different.” She nodded. “When they thought they couldn't have children, when they thought they couldn't change at will, when they thought they were at the mercy of this demon that had been put inside them, they made laws to save the world from themselves.”

“And now they're finding out those laws don't work.”

“Yeah, but there are fanatics. You don't know . . .”

He filled in the blank. “I'm guessing you have people who want to use the power for good, people who want to use it for evil, and people that just fear it or use it to hurt others.”

She nodded. “Even the ones that want to do good hurt others. I don't know. It's like anything else, Cole; it's got its good side and its bad side. Being Reaper, it doesn't change who you are.”

“Bullshit, it changed you.”

“No, it brought me back to me, and that's a good thing.”

“It's not something I want.”

“I know.”

He looked at her. “Ever.”

“I know.”

“I want you to promise me, no matter what happens in the future, you won't let them change me.”

She bit her lip, and again he saw the shattered girl he'd brought back from her captivity with the Indians, but then in a heartbeat that little girl went away and in her place was the woman she'd become since meeting Isaiah Jones. He'd been as good for her as she'd been for him. They were a match, Cole realized.

As he took the sheet from her, she pushed the hair off her face with her wet hand, the wet strands making a funny bump on her forehead. Any other time that would have made him smile, but this wasn't that time.

“I want your promise, Addy. I've always lived my life as I wanted. That doesn't change just because Miranda is a Reaper and all of you want another rooster in the henhouse.”

She rolled her eyes. “You make it sound like there's a campaign going on.”

“Isn't there?”

“I'll admit a lot of people would feel much more comfortable if you were one of us. No question. No doubt.”

“You one of them?”

“I thought so but . . .”

“I've convinced you otherwise?”

“No, Miranda did.”

That was a shock. “Miranda?”

“She has a funny notion that you should always stay you, no matter what.”

Because he'd made her promise, and she was keeping her promise to back him in this. But he knew in her heart she wanted him to be Reaper.

“She knows what it's like not to have a choice.”

“Yes, she does, but she also knows how easy it is to live with a different choice.”

“Easy? Have you seen the scars on her face, the fear in her eyes?”

“She's a woman alone. Life is difficult for any woman alone with a child.”

“She's not alone; she has me now.”

Addy nodded. “For how long?”

Because he chose to stay human and mortal if that were still possible. He got the point. “You have a nasty way with words, Adelaide Jones.” It was the first time he'd ever used her married name.

She smiled, acknowledging the concession. “Facts are facts. We live in a dangerous world, and this little corner of it, right now? It's downright treacherous, but I'm not going to interfere with what you and Miranda decide is right. The same way you didn't interfere with Isaiah and me.”

“I grumbled a bit.”

She nodded. “But you left me to be happy.”