5. Reaper
Reaper
The cigarette in my hand goes out, the orange sparks at its tip fading to gray.
I keep relighting it, thinking that I’ll be able to focus better with a few more puffs.
Instead, I’ve burned through half a pack and have hardly taken any hits.
I toss the butt onto the mausoleum rooftop and sigh, dragging my fingers through my hair.
I didn’t get any sleep today, and neither did Zane.
Halloween always fucks with his sleep schedule, making him irritable as fuck and terrible to be around.
I left the house as soon as the sun went down. After a successful hunting season, I’d normally find a busty brunette to wile away the hours with, but I’ve got a one-track mind that’s playing on a loop.
Mercy wants to have sex with Zane.
At least, that’s her win condition , he says. As if she would come up with that on her own. No matter how much I’ve pestered him about the rest of their conversation, he stays mute, refusing to fess up.
He did something. Said something. I know it.
But forcing myself into Mercy’s life so soon after seeing her—nearly twelve hours ago—breaks other boundaries we’ve set for the hunt. We’re supposed to lead them in slowly at first, only ramping up in the final stages. With Mercy, I want to start on full speed and burn right through her.
Hence the cigarettes. My mind keeps spiraling on everything I shouldn’t do, which consequently, is everything I want to do.
Voices carry across the cemetery. It’s not uncommon for people to be here in early November with Día de los Muertos around the corner, but I recognize these voices. Both of them. I perk up immediately, craning my neck to check all of the nearby entrances. One. Two. Three..
There.
Siren is walking hand-in-hand with a frat boy I’ve never had the pleasure of seducing, but I’ve seen him around.
He’s a junior, I think, but he’s been in the frat since his first year enrolled.
I don’t pay much attention to the politics of Greek life, but I’ve seen enough to know when someone is there on daddy’s dime instead of their own volition.
This guy—football star, pretty smile, business major—never seems like he wants to be here.
I’m not sure if he wants to be anywhere.
But he looks pretty goddamn content holding Mercy’s hand.
A tear of tension rips through my shoulders, and I roll them back to ease the strain. I haven’t laid public claim on her, but I will. Soon, but not yet. Let him hold her hand for now, but within a month or two, I’ll make sure she—and the entire student body—knows who owns her.
Because when Zane and I choose a target, we claim everything.
Mind, body, soul. Life. I take a deep breath and try not to let impatience get the best of me.
Zane says that it’s one of my many faults—as if there are that many—that I get too attached too quickly.
He could serve to get more attached than he does.
I pull my phone from my pocket and take a picture of the two of them holding hands, capturing a coy smile from our girl.
I frown at the screen as soon as I see it, disliking how she’s smiling for another man.
At least it isn’t reciprocal; he looks like he’s got a stick up his ass.
Wound up tight. Looking over his shoulder, about to jump out of his skin?—
A slow smirk curves on my lips. Did my little siren tell a friend about our deal? Is she trying to protect herself from me?
I wonder what Zane would make of that.
My phone vibrates moments later, just as Mercy and Pretty Boy cut across a row of graves towards the section we visited last night. “Yo,” I answer, still smiling. Zane isn’t nearly as amused as I am.
“She has a boyfriend?” His voice clips at the end of each word. I can picture him glaring at his phone.
“I don’t think so,” I answer honestly, staring at them from a distance. “It looks like they’re dragging each other around. Almost like they’re fighting.”
“Lovers fight.”
“Hm.” What would Zane know about that? “Still, he doesn’t look happy to be here, but she’s all too eager to visit Alejandro again.”
Paying her respects to the dead? She should have brought flowers.
“What are they doing there?”
Like I know. Rolling my eyes, I switch the phone to my other ear. “Want me to walk over and ask them?”
Zane falls silent. “You shouldn’t.”
…but he wants me to.
Grinning, I jump off the mausoleum rooftop and stumble a few steps into the grass. “Say less,” I tease, chuckling. “Want me to put you on speaker?”
“God, no. Put me in your pocket.”
“What a snoop. She won’t know you’re listening.
” I’m sure that’s the idea. “Taking an interest in her already? That’s unlike you.
” Visiting her this morning was unlike him, too.
He doesn’t normally pay this much attention to our targets, preferring that I handle in-person interactions.
Texting, sure, he’ll text up a storm if the mood strikes. But seeing them in person?
Not his thing.
I’m tempted to put him on video and flip him around so that he’s eye to eye with Mercy. I’d love to see the utter shock and horror on his face.
“I’m not interested,” Zane snaps, clearly in denial. “Just find out what they’re doing.”
“Roger.”
I slip the phone into my front pocket and make my way to Alejandro’s family plot.
He has three generations buried here, including his younger sister.
I’m not sure what she died from, but according to Alejandro, his parents never recovered.
I’m not sure that he did either, truthfully.
In his final moments, he wished to see her again.
It was touching—and the reason why we buried him with her.
Mercy is crouching in front of Maria’s tombstone when I approach. She doesn’t hear or see me, but Pretty Boy does. He’s on high alert, clenching his fists and preparing to defend Mercy’s life on sight. I can see it in his eyes. You can’t fake that kind of determination.
“Easy, boy,” I murmur, unable to keep the smile off my face. In another life—or maybe just another year—I’d go after him, too. “What’s your name?”
“I’m not a dog,” he growls, looking very much like a guard dog as he plants himself between me and Mercy. “What the fuck are you doing here, Reaper?”
Mercy quickly turns at the waist, her eyes beautifully wide as she spots me. “He’s here?”
Yes, Siren, I’ll find you anywhere.
“I should be asking you that.” I nod towards the grave.
Zane and I did a good job recovering it to make it look untouched, but it’s not perfect.
The more they walk on the topsoil, the more our facade comes undone.
“I’d appreciate if you didn’t step on Alejandro and Maria. It’s disrespectful to the dead.”
“Why’d you kill him?” Mercy stands up and wipes her hands off on her skirt, a deliciously pleated black skirt that hangs just above her knees. I lick my lips and admire the view of her porcelain skin beneath her fishnet tights. Goth girls always know how to put on a show, no matter the season.
She blushes bright pink at my stare. I might have hit a nerve.
I’ll have to keep hitting them.
I pretend to think about answering her question, taking my sweet time to shift my gaze back up to her face.
“Why do you want to know?” It’s unusual for our targets to ask about our previous kills, but then again, none of them ever had a heads-up about our pastimes. Mercy’s a rare exception. The only one.
That’s what makes this year’s game so thrilling.
I can feel the excitement pumping through my veins with every single beat of my heart.
“That’s privileged information,” I continue, cracking my neck with a jerk of my head.
Exhaling, I groan. Damn, I needed that. “I don’t think you’ve earned it yet, beautiful. ”
Pretty Boy Guard Dog bares his teeth, doing a very good impression of a German Shepherd. Even his hair’s scraggy. “That’s the game, right? Figure you out, and she gets to live.” He glares at me. “What kind of a man threatens innocent women for fun?”
“I’m not threatening.” I slide my gaze back to Mercy, enjoying the corset she’s wrapped around her body.
I bet tearing it off of her would be a fun little challenge.
She might even try to bite me. “It’s a promise, one that I fully intend to keep.
But—” I click my tongue against my teeth.
“Siren, when were you going to tell me you had a boyfriend? I could make this a two-for-one deal.”
I don’t want to include Pretty Boy, and Zane will rip my head off if I agree to it, but seeing her spine snap into place is so worth the bluff. She pushes herself to her feet and tries to pull him behind her, but he refuses to move, so they glare at each other and stand arm-in-arm.
Cute.
They answer at the same time, only in opposites.
“No fucking way.”
“Do it.”
Then they glare at each other some more.
I cross my arms over my chest and enjoy the aggressive posturing between them. I hope that Zane can hear every heated word.
“You are not dying for me.”
“Who’s talking about dying? I’m talking about living!”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you in on this.”
“What, you don’t think I can handle it?” Pretty Boy tosses his hand out towards me. “Mercy, I can handle him, trust me. I’ve taken on bigger bastards than him.”
Chuckling, I resist the urge to grab my crotch and show him what he can really handle. “As touching as this is, I’ll have to decline. This is a solo operation.”
Pretty Boy’s eyes snap to me. “You have a partner. She deserves one too.”
So she did tattle. I can’t be too upset about it—I’m loving this new side to her. “As long as you know what’s at stake…” I trail off, wondering just how much he knows. “But she did promise to fall in love with me.”
She gasps, having the audacity to look scorned. “I did not!”
A shadow crosses Pretty Boy’s face. “Tell me the rules of the game.”
“No, you’re not joining?—”
“ Mercy. ” He turns away from me to grab her chin and force her to meet his eyes. “Let me help you.”
I watch their interaction with keen interest. What’s their relationship? Friends? Exes? Lovers? Whatever it is, his tactic works. She nods at him and wraps her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Then, she whispers in his ear.
My cell phone burns my thigh, overheating from the length of the call or, more likely, from Zane’s fury.
He may act calm and collected on the outside, but he’s a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.
I haven’t been able to light the fuse after all these years, but if he’s as interested in Mercy as I think he is, this could be what pushes him over the edge.
We’ve never done a double-homicide, and that could be enough to force his hand. He’ll have to join in on the fun.
I’m just not sure how Pretty Boy will change the terms of the game.
At any rate, he’s clearly displeased by the time Mercy’s done sharing secrets. He’s boring a hole in her head with the intensity of his stare. To her credit, she’s unflinching despite the pressure.
“You can still back out,” I offer. “I’m more than happy with Mercy as my only prize.”
“Shut up.” He finally breaks Mercy’s gaze to glare at me. “And let me in on the deal.” Stepping in front of Mercy, he pushes her behind him. “If I get Mercy to fall in love with me?—”
Zane curses loudly from my pocket.
“Then neither of you can touch her.” He lifts his chin. “That’s my win condition.”
I stare at Mercy’s wide-eyed shock, enjoying the way she freezes on the spot. “So it’s a race?” I shake my head, knowing that Zane is going to hate this. “And what about you?” I nod towards Pretty Boy. “Shouldn’t we have a little fun with you, too?”
“Not interested.” He clenches his jaw. “I’m only here for Mercy.”
“Fine,” I concede, sighing. “Whoever gets her to fall in love with them first has the honor of deciding her fate. But when you fail—because you will, or you’d already have won her heart?—”
Pretty Boy flinches.
“You both die.”