Reapers of the Dark (Cora Roberts #4)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

How many screws do you need to lose before calling it quits?

T here was nothing more manly than a six-foot-plus guy who deemed himself above the carefully crafted, illustrated instructions included in every single flat-pack box of furniture. These instructions transcended the language barrier with ease, yet failed to get through to the testosterone-laden individuals who believed they knew better.

Hudson frowned as he selected a shiny silver screw from the unsorted pile which, according to the discarded paper in my hand, contained eight different sizes of bolts, each carefully included in the correct number for optimal construction. At this rate, I would be surprised if the dresser held the weight of a fly, never mind the truckload of clothing The Principal deemed “essential.” The man had twenty-six pairs of underwear. Why? What was happening where his washing wasn’t getting done for over three weeks? He had more than me, and this wasn’t even all of it. Perhaps it was because he was the leader of the North American shapeshifters, and clean boxers were required for every time someone asked him for something? And they did ask. This past week, he’d been called upon to officiate a mating ceremony; oversee a new building site for shifter homes; and give a lecture to two groups of teenagers—one wolf, one cat—on why they should respect each other’s boundaries. He also had to intervene in an arranged marriage, which he’d outlawed long ago.

My gaze wandered to the setting sun casting a warm glow through my window. I loved Louisiana in the winter. The air had cooled to a comfortable temperature, and the differentiation between night and day could be felt more acutely. The crazy Christmas period was over and the air was potent with new beginnings. Not that our Christmas had been anything other than subdued while I healed physically and mentally from the torture inflicted on me by my grandmother’s head elemental.

My New Year’s resolution was to avoid homicidal and tyrannical family members for as long as possible. Hudson’s was to stuff as much of himself into me—my home, not my body—as he could manage. On the surface, everything seemed to be returning to normal, but Hudson was holding back. Sure, we’d been intimate, but he was still treating me like I was made of glass.

Intimacy, though, could not occur when there were wayward screws and a half-built dresser on the floor. He’d been building this since three p.m. The instructions clutched in my hand mocked us—as they should. There was a little clock in the corner of the front page indicating we should have placed his carefully folded underwear inside the completed dresser three hours ago. That’s right, folded underwear. I wasn’t sure if this was a deal breaker yet, as I considered it a success if my underwear even landed in the right drawer, let alone was folded and organized.

We could attribute the inordinate time to a situation involving three vampires who had booked one of the family rooms in my B we simply provided them with two comforters. The issue was the woman between them and which comforter she was going to sleep under. Neither was the answer. She ended up paying for a separate room and told them not to bother her until they worked their shit out. I couldn’t agree more, but both male vampires looked dumbstruck as she sauntered off to a room of her own.

Hudson cursed, bringing me back to the present.

“You ready to let me help?” I checked.

“I don’t need help.”

Silly me. Perhaps if I played to his superiority of DIY prowess? “I could be your assistant.”

“That’s still helping.”

Hudson picked up the third electric screwdriver, already having burned through the previous two that were now charging. They were in a shift change situation while he pretended to know what he was doing. You’d think he would get a clue that he needed to read the instructions after he had to undo all the pieces and start again.

I slid my ass off the kitchen counter, my shit-kicking boots thudding on the wooden floor of my apartment. I’d taken the top floor of the four-story house as my personal rooms. The basement held my office and examination room for my role as The Undertaker, and the other two floors contained the guest rooms and communal living areas. Sebastian, my vampire best friend, had recently taken up permanent residence here also, much to Hudson’s chagrin. Not that he feared a romantic connection between us, as I wasn’t his type, but we had shared blood. Technically, I should now be in Sebastian’s thrall, a horrific psychological state where the vampire controlled the actions of whoever they had shared with, broken only by death. If done between two vampires—normally mates—the thrall canceled itself out. The community frowned upon creating a bond outside of a mated couple or group.

However, I wasn’t really normal by anyone’s standards. As a Nephilim, I had an angelic being residing inside of me who swatted the thrall bond away like an annoying fly. That didn’t stop Hudson from losing his shit and threatening to remove Sebastian’s heart, and even though it was clear no bond had formed, there was still animosity.

Indigo perked up at the mention of organs. You could count on the daughter of the angel of death to become excited about mangled body parts. I rolled my eyes.

“I’m starved,” she muttered in my mind. “I need souls, not meat.”

Yes, because that’s so much better.

“It is. Souls don’t give me indigestion.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Hudson paused and glanced over his shoulder. Since accepting him as my mate, Hudson had developed the ability to hear the creature living inside me. He housed his own beast, a prehistoric tiger named Keverin that hated water but enjoyed lounging on my sofa while watching reruns of Animal Planet and the Jurassic Park franchise.

“You need to feed her before she takes matters into her own hands,” he said.

Thank you, Captain Obvious. “I’m aware. But we can’t just gobble up any old soul.”

“Why not?” she asked.

Hudson snorted. “We can take a trip to New Orleans tonight. It’s full of people who deserve that fate.”

Indigo huffed. “They leave an unpleasant aftertaste.”

Send help. I am housing a picky angel with discerning tastes. “Take it or leave it,” I told her. I could feel her sulking in my mind as she went quiet. That’s what I thought.

Hudson stood and took a step back from the half-built dresser, his gaze studying the slight slope of the drawer units.

Harry burst through the wall. He was my resident ghost, once a vampire, who failed to take the hint and step into the light. He claimed his work here on Earth wasn’t done.

“Miss Roberts, your uncle approaches.”

Ugh. The Devil was almost here, meaning… the boundary wards clanged in my head, making me grit my teeth. My father was also here. The original soul sucking pair—one from Heaven, the other from Hell.

Cora Roberts—daughter of death, niece of evil, mate of idiotic male.

Harry frowned at the wonky dresser. “Is it meant to be like that?”

“No.”

Hudson raised a brow. He could hear Indigo because she was essentially part of me, but he couldn’t hear the dead. Probably a good thing, as his fragile ego was being called into question by an entity that couldn’t even lift a screwdriver.

I folded my arms. “Harry wonders if you have finished pretending to know what you are doing.”

Harry scowled. “I said no such thing.”

A slight growl rumbled from Hudson’s chest. Very scary. “I’d like to see him do better. I think there are missing parts, because those screws aren’t long enough.”

“If you hadn’t shoved the longest screws into holes they didn’t belong in, you’d find you had enough to plug those holes.”

He grinned. All teeth. All cat. All animal. Whatever. I had two warring angels at my door and not enough time to deal with his dirty mind. I thrust the instructions at him.

“Just admit defeat and follow the directions. Then we can place your neatly folded underwear into the dresser.”

“They are pressed.”

“What?”

“My boxers are ironed and pressed. Socks too.”

He’s insane. I folded my arms and narrowed my eyes at him. I intentionally picked out clothing that could endure a hot wash, dried in a dryer, and hung without noticeable creases. “Don’t get any bright ideas. I am not pressing your underwear. You want something ironed, do it yourself. If you want a little wife with no aspirations other than to serve your every whim, I am not her.”

“You tell him, Miss Roberts,” Harry said before zipping back through the wall. My ghostly sidekick had abandoned me.

Hudson put the screwdriver down and abandoned his task as he stalked toward me wearing a slightly unhinged look. Oh God, I’d missed that look. However, I didn’t have time to entertain his inner animal right now. We had company, and the things he wanted to do to me weren’t for public consumption.

“Say that again,” he rumbled.

“I don’t iron, and I never will.”

His huge hands gripped my hips and lifted me back onto the counter with ease before pushing between my legs. “Tell me again you aren’t my mate.” His hazel eyes danced with amusement and a challenge. Gold sparks glittered as I opened my mouth. The idiot thought I wouldn’t poke the tiger to force him out of treating me like a precious princess made of spun glass. Fool.

“I—” His hands gripped my T-shirt and tore it straight down the center. “Will not—” My bra followed. I liked that bra. “Iron.” His mouth latched onto my nipple, and heat washed down my spine. My hands threaded into his hair as a low moan tore from my throat. He was insatiable. I kept waiting for the honeymoon period to pass, but so far, his appetite for me only increased. I wasn’t complaining, but I wanted the unhinged Hudson back, and this was the first glimpse I’d had in weeks.

“We have guests,” I murmured as his thumb toyed with my other nipple, teasing me to a fever pitch. “Hudson, we don’t have time for this.”

He growled and began undoing the button on my jean shorts before diving beneath my panties. I sucked in a breath as his finger slid through my arousal and plunged deep inside my heat. Fuck. Hudson moved with a rhythm designed to drag my climax from my body. He wasn’t gentle, patient, or sweet. He was ruthless, demanding, and intoxicating. Finally.

“You know, if you’d followed the instructions, we would have had more time for this before my family arrived.”

His teeth clamped down in warning, and my core clenched in response. The external boundary wards clanged once more in my head, and if I didn’t get to the front door within seconds, there would be a battle between Heaven and Hell in my yard. I’d just gotten it landscaped after the last one.

“We need to—” I started. He stole my breath as his thumb put pressure on my clit, making my back arch.

“Cora,” Rebecca sing-songed outside my door. “Daddy and Uncle Lucie are here and need your permission to enter the house.” I’d reworked the wards so they could enter the grounds with a warning, but needed permission to step over the threshold. “I’ll keep them entertained until you’re done.” She giggled, the sound fading away with her footsteps.

I did not need the Devil or the angel of death being seduced by a vampire princess—I had enough complicated relationships taking place under my roof. I needed to hurry this along, and experience has taught me that in order to stake his claim, Hudson needed to finish. Me, not him. My lover was a giver. He pushed another finger inside and the stretch flew me over the edge. My thighs tensed, and stars exploded behind my eyes. His mouth found mine, and he greedily swallowed my cries of pleasure as he wrapped a hand in my hair to keep us together. When the aftershocks subsided, he gently removed his hand from my panties and put them inside his mouth to lick them clean with a growl of approval that made me hot all over again.

His lips tilted up in a satisfied, distinctly male grin. Yes, yes, you can make me come in under five minutes. I’ll get you a mug printed with your male prowess so you can start each morning with a bolstered ego.

“I’m still not ironing your underwear or socks,” I told him.

“I can do my own ironing, Cora. I’ve never asked you to do anything like that, and I’m not about to. Being mine doesn’t mean being a good little housewife. I can’t be a nine-to-five suit-wearing office worker, so why would I drag you into a similar stereotype?” He bopped me on the nose. “I fell for you, Cora Roberts. Doctor, psychic, half angel, granddaughter of my enemy. Don’t change. You are perfect just the way you are.”

A large smile spread across my face. “Since you’ve acknowledged my perfection, I need you to build that damned dresser by following the instructions after this meeting.”

“Don’t push it. I don’t tell you how to deal with the dead, so you don’t tell me how to build furniture.”

I huffed as I pushed on his chest and escaped to our bedroom to grab a new T-shirt and bra. “It’s not the same. You aren’t a carpenter.”

He followed me and leaned his shoulder against the door frame as he folded his arms and watched me dress. “I promise to assemble the dresser and have my underwear neatly tucked inside before the sun rises.”

Pulling on an Iron Maiden T-shirt—appropriate for the company we had—I smirked at him. “We shall see, Principal. We shall see.”

He puffed out his chest. “You doubt my skill in the bedroom?”

There was a part of me that toyed with teasing him, so I got the reward of making him prove otherwise. But he wasn’t a total idiot. “In the bed itself? No. In the construction of furniture I could have put up hours ago? Yes.”

I swept past him. He followed, hot on my heels as I opened the door and we spilled out into the hallway. “What do I get if I prove you wrong?”

Unwrinkled underwear? “What do you want?”

He was playing. This is one of my most favorite things about the Principal. He wore an unflappable mask for the pack. He was tough, but fair. I got the playful male, who bartered for silly things like what we did on a Friday night, and what movie we watched next.

“You. Naked. For twenty-four hours.”

I glanced at him. His lips were set in a hard line. Oh, he wasn’t playing. I’m not entirely sure how I could lose in this situation.

“Deal. But I’m holding the instructions hostage.”

He grinned, and awareness crept down my spine. Why did I feel like I had just walked into a trap?