Raven's Breath (The Women of Purgatory) Read online

  It took me about week to find my way around Purgatory, but only a couple days to realize I'd be better off if I stayed secluded in my room. I'd always been somewhat of a recluse so the adjustment was an easy one to make.

  I'd started retrieving souls within my second week and as my numbers climbed, Garrett and I had become fast friends. Other than the ever-present tension in the air, everything Death had told me seemed to be on the up-and-up; that had been almost twenty-five years ago.

  "Does it really bother you that there could be another female Reaper? Maybe the two of you will end up being really great friends." Garrett's question yanked me from my memories. I turned to him, ready with my smartass reply before I caught the smirk plastered across his face.

  "Why, yes, you never know. Maybe we'll be BFFs and paint each other's nails, and talk about our boy problems while sitting around in our sexy pjs."

  By the time we got to the bar we were both shaking from laughing so hard. The idea of me being best friends with anyone other than him was utterly ridiculous. Garrett accepted me and always knew just how to take my mind off of work and the stress that came with it. That was just one of the many reasons why I loved him so much. I was smiling wide when we entered the club arm-in-arm, ready to relax.

  Then I saw Krev.

  3

  While I may not be a people person, I still managed to come to terms with the male population and got along with almost everyone...except Krev. He was such an asshole, and for some reason he seemed to carry a real chip on his shoulder when it came to me, one that to this day I still couldn't understand.

  "Well, well. If it isn't the infamous, Raven." His mocking tone and the shitty look on his face confirmed he was trying to start a fight, as usual.

  "Hey, Krev. Bad day? Let me guess, you lost some more souls? Oh wait, that's not a bad day for you...just a normal one."

  The small crowd around us snickered in the background.

  "Actually, Raven, I didn't have anyone run from me today, but there was this one lady who refused to go until she made sure someone found her body. It was awkward. She was chatty. I learned how to cross-stitch while we waited."

  His humorous response caught me off guard. Usually nothing other than pure hatred flowed past his lips. I took the opportunity to remove myself from the confrontation.

  "Well, at least she didn't run from you. Looks like you had a good day after all." I started to turn away when he asked another question.

  "Why, did you have a runner?" His eyes widened at the excitement of my potential failure.

  I took a deep breath. Just walk away, just walk away. I knew I shouldn't engage him, but I couldn't help myself. With his usual dickhead behavior etched into my brain, I cocked a hip at his ridiculous question and flared my wings. "Now come on, Krev. You know better than that. No one runs from me."

  Krev threw his hands in the air. "Oh, that's right...beautiful, Raven, the best Reaper in the business. You've got it easy, tight ass, nice tits, and an awesome wingspan. You wouldn't do so good if you didn't have those wings and were stuck wearing this shit." He lifted the edge of his cloak and released it with a disgusted flare.

  "You're right. I suppose if you guys had wings and weren't required to wear those drab things you'd be doing a lot better in your numbers and I wouldn't have to constantly clean up your messes," I jibed.

  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 punishment, 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."

  6

  He lifted the lid and my stomach dropped.

  It was a pure white satin dress––the same dress the woman in my dream had been wearing, and apparently Garrett had ordered it. "Who is that for?" I couldn't hold my tongue.

  "Again, I'm not sure. But according to the note inside I'm suppose to put it in back and someone will be by later today to pick it up." He shrugged like the mysterious package was no big deal.

  My head threatened to burst and my wings ached. I was losing control. I had to get out of here before my inner light ignited and I sent Drey on a ride straight to Heaven or Hell.

  "Is something wrong, Raven? You look like you're about to go off."

  "I'm sorry, Drey. Thanks for everything, but I have to go."

  I rushed from the shop, extended my wings, and shot into the air. Flying always helped to calm my nerves, and right now I definitely needed to calm down or I was going to kill Garrett. How could he lie to me? Apparently, he had known more about the female if he'd ordered her a fucking dress. UUUGGHHH!

  I pushed faster into the gloomy sky, closing my eyes and letting myself drift amongst the phenoms, their soft wisps caressing me as I flew. Rain pelted my face and I began to calm; the drops washing away the sting of betrayal I couldn't help but feel. It was one thing for Death to bring on a new female for whatever purpose, but it was another for my best friend to lie to me about it. I thought it was the bite of the storm against my skin that reminded me that while I was technically dead, I was still very much alive, but in reality, it was the pain piercing my heart that drove the fact home.

  I soared through my window and threw the now soaked bag of shirts onto the bed, following them down until my face was buried in my periwinkle duvet.

  Jolted by the buzzing in my pocket, I dug out my phone and snarled as I read the text. "GARRETT: Just got done with my meeting, where you at?"

  I debated texting back, "In Hell, wanna come meet me!" but I doubted my angry response would have made much sense to him at the moment. So, instead I simply replied, "At home."

  "Cool. Wanna grab lunch in an hour?" How could he act like nothing had happened? Like lying to me was an everyday occurrence? Hmph. Maybe it was.

  "Where?"

  "Digger's?"

  "See you there."

  Could he sense the anger in my snappy texts? Did he have any idea the fury he was about to face?

  Highly doubtful.

  Forty-five minutes later the inside of my cheek was raw. I couldn't wait any longer. I darted back out of my bedroom window and veered towards Digger's. It was one of Garrett's and my favorite restaurants. The atmosphere was that of a graveyard, with eerie lighting, tombstones, and caskets intermingled throughout. Top that off by the fact that the owner, Digger, had been an actual grave digger in his previous life, it was all rather poetic.

  I pushed through the heavy door and walked t
o the furthest booth in the back. It was a semi-circle of black leather and brass studs, the curved back reaching high above my head. Perfect. While I didn't think our conversation was going to be a pleasant one, I wouldn't embarrass Garrett or myself in public.

  "Hey, Raven!" Garrett excitedly slid in next to me.

  "Hey." I lowered my head, avoiding his eyes. Apparently my subdued response wasn't enough of a giveaway to my mood because Garrett immediately started rambling on about his meeting.

  "Raven! Are you even listening to me?"

  I wasn't. Clearly. But the second I started paying attention my anger fizzled like a cheap ball of bath salts.

  "I just told you that I know the identity of the new female Reaper, and you're not going to believe this! Death had me special order a dress for her this morning. A white satin dress, just like the one you saw in your dream!"

  "Wow. That is crazy."

  "Oh, and her name is Holli...with an 'i'," Garrett stated.

  Of course it is.

  Garrett and I continued to discuss what he'd learned during his meeting. Apparently, Death had given him the same old story about wanting another female Reaper to help collect the lost souls.

  I shook my head. I wasn't buying it. I couldn't forget the sexual tension that overshadowed what I saw in that dream.

  "I'm telling you. There's more to it than that," I argued.

  "Well, I'm telling you, that's all I know. Her name is Holli, she'll be here tomorrow night, and he demanded that a white satin dress be sent down from topside immediately."

  "Tomorrow night, huh? I wonder if he's going to keep her all to himself for a while, or make a big presentation of her?"

  "Actually, there's a party scheduled for All Hallows Eve."

  "Oh for fuck's sake. Can he be any more dramatic?" I wanted to gag at the fanfare I knew Death would be putting on.