Death and Relaxation (13 page)

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Authors: Devon Monk

Tags: #Fantasy.Urban

BOOK: Death and Relaxation
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Still debating that with my stomach, I leaned against the side of the cruiser and closed my eyes. I worked on breathing—in through the nose, out through the mouth—and tipped my face up, hoping the wind and dampness of the night would clear my head and ease my gut. I was used to pushing my body hard. I stayed in shape for just this sort of thing, but the impact of god power had taken more out of me than I’d expected.

Arms wrapped behind my back and under my knees. My eyes snapped open.

Ryder.

The man was quiet when he wanted to be.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, searching his eyes. Was he going to kiss me? Because that might be a terrible idea, considering the state of my stomach.

He lifted me off my feet. “Following orders.”

“Wha— Put me down. This is not a good idea.”

“This is not a bad idea.”

“I’ll barf on you.”

“I’m washable.”

“I can make you put me down.”

He had been walking toward his truck this entire time, and despite myself, all my muscles were relaxing into him. The scent of his cologne—something with coconut in it—wrapped around me, and all I wanted to do was put my head on his shoulder and sleep for a year.

“I know you can make me,” he said calmly. Then he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Out of the two of you right now, I’m more afraid of your sister.”

“Don’t argue with him,” Myra called out as she opened the cruiser door. “He’ll take you home.”

“He’s not even our employee,” I said.

“Yet,” he added.

“See you in the morning, Delaney,” she said. “If you show up before nine, I’ll duct-tape you to the cot.”

“I think she’s serious,” he said, stopping at the passenger side of the truck.

Myra got in the cruiser and started the engine.

“She is.” I sighed. “Put me down. There’s nothing wrong with my legs.”

“True.” He somehow got the passenger door open without dropping me. “You have very nice legs. But your sister was clear with her instructions.”

“Which were?”

“Not to let your feet touch ground until you’re at your house.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake.”

He gave me a grin. Then, with far too much ease, he tossed me gently into the front seat of his truck.

“Almost like you’ve done that before.”

He shrugged. “I am a man of many talents. At your service.” He gave me a slight bow then shut the door in my face.

I watched him saunter around the front of the truck, the rain-shattered light catching at the hard edge of his profile and wide shoulders. He looked good in his skin. Confident in who he was, confident in his place in the world. In his goals. It was sexy the way he moved, shoulders and hips shifting with controlled power. Very male. It made me wonder how he would move on a dance floor. Or in bed.

“So, Officer Reed.” He settled in the front seat and started the engine. “My place or yours?”

“Mine?”

He glanced over at me, the cool light of the street lamp doing amazing things to his eyes, his mouth. And when he bit his bottom lip, tugging before he smiled, something that felt like butterflies fluttered across my stomach. I shivered.

“You don’t sound too sure of that. And there are a million steps up to your place. There’s nothing but an easy path to mine.”

“You know what they say about taking the path of least resistance.”

“Leads to temptation?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I have hot cocoa.”

I closed my eyes and pressed cold fingertips over my lids. “I totally set myself up for that, didn’t I?’

He chuckled. “You totally did.”

“That’s it. I am officially too tired to operate my mouth and brain.”

“Does that mean you’re too tired for stairs?”

I turned my head and gave him a small smile. “I’m not too tired to operate my feet. I should go home.”

“Then home it is.” He eased the truck out onto the road and turned on the heater. Classic rock wafted through the speakers, turned down so low, it was almost a lullaby. I leaned my head against the side window and closed my eyes.

“Hey, Lane,” Ryder said softly. “We’re here.”

I opened my eyes with a start and tried to get my bearings. We were parked at the bottom of my stairs, the engine turned off, rain clattering across the truck’s roof.

Lane. He hadn’t called me that since we were in school. I had forgotten how much I liked his nickname for me. “Tell me this isn’t the worst date you’ve ever been on,” I said.

“Not even in the top ten worst.”

“Top twenty?”

He rocked his hand back and forth. “The dead body definitely puts it in the top twenty-five.”

“Well, good. Wouldn’t want the night to be a total loss.” I tucked my hair back behind my ears and narrowed my eyes at him. “Thanks for the ride, traitor.”

“Whoa. Traitor?”

“You sided with my sister back there.”

“You didn’t see your sister’s face when you passed out in front of Jump Off’s. She looked like a valkyrie.”

“Valkyrie?” Chills ran down my arms. I knew the town’s only valkyrie: Bertie. Did he know? Did he know about the creatures in this town?

“Norse myth. Warrior women who gather up the fallen heroes and take them to their final party place in Valhalla.”

“Right. Sure. Norse thing. It’s been a while since I took that mythology class in high school.”

He dipped his head to catch my eyes. Waiting until I met his gaze. “Myra’s worried about you. Since she’s your sister, and a cop, and isn’t the kind of person who overreacts, I’m worried about you. Are you really okay, Lane?”

“It was just a fluke. Passing out. Must have had too much to drink.”

“Two beers?”

“I’m out of practice, apparently.”

He frowned, his gaze searching my face. He didn’t believe me. Or he didn’t want to.

I didn’t want him to find the truth—that I was tired, a little scared, and full of really noisy power. I pulled on the door handle and turned away. “Anyway. Thanks for the ride. Congrats on getting conned into helping out at the station, you foolish man. See you in the morning.”

I got out of the truck before he could say anything and sucked in a hard breath at the temperature change. Cold, blustery, wet. Springtime in the Pacific Northwest.

I crunched over gravel to the bottom of the stairs, put one hand on the railing, and started up. Halfway to my goal, I heard the truck door close and then the
shuck-shuck
of boots jogging up the stairs behind me.

Jogging.

Seriously.

“You don’t have to follow me.” I didn’t bother looking back at him.

“I promised Myra I’d make sure you were home.” He slowed to move in rhythm with me as I trudged up the stairs. His boots, my boots
shuck-shucking
as one.

“I’m here. I’m home. You’ve fulfilled your contract with my pushy sister. You can go.”

“I’m to give her a full report, and it is to include you taking off your boots and either getting into a hot bath or crawling into bed.”

“For the love of Pete,” I said. “She told you that?”

“I’m just a law-abiding citizen doing what the local law tells me to do. You don’t want me to break the law, do you, Laney?”

“Brown-noser,” I mumbled.

“What?”

“Come on in, citizen,” I said with all the sarcasm I could shovel. “And watch the amazing Delaney Reed take off her shoes.”

I opened my front door, strolled in to my living room. I was pretty sure he was laughing at me.

“You should really lock your door. All sorts of people could just walk in to the place.”

“Don’t I know it.” I turned around, held my arms out to either side. “Ta-da! I am here. I am home. And…” I held up one finger then toed off my boots and kicked them to one side. “I am de-booted.” I grinned. “Now you and my sister can get out of my hair, okay?”

“Almost.”

“Almost?”

“There’s one more thing.”

I tipped my head back and groaned. “It’s illegal to shoot siblings, right?”

“Only inside state lines.” He crossed the distance between us in three easy strides.

And then his arm was around my back, his other hand slowly rising to the side of my face, fingers tucking back in my hair to curl at the nape of my neck.

“Just in case a workplace romance doesn’t work out, I thought we could start here.” His gaze held mine. I couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move. All the sound inside me went silent, still.

Ryder was warm—hot, his jacket open so I could feel the heat of his body even through the coat I wore.

When I didn’t resist, he lowered his mouth, softly, gently.

His lips, warm with the taste of rain, found mine.

Everything in me went upside down and the world somersaulted into deep water.

I was suspended there, drowning there. My only lifeline: the man who had swept the world out from beneath me.

Friends.

Who was I kidding?

This was not a friendly kiss. This was passion.

This was Ryder.

Before I could understand it, before I could sort the truths of him from the fantasies, he quietly pulled away.

Hands still holding me, gaze locked on my eyes. On me.

“That goodnight kiss was my idea. Not your sister’s. Just in case you weren’t sure.”

I nodded. Had to swallow to remember how to make words come out of my mouth. “Good. Great. Good to know.”

The corner of his mouth slid up into a smile.

“So I’m going to leave now,” he said. “And you are going to…?”

Oh. He wanted me to say something? To put a cohesive thought together with my brain and mouth? That was impossible
while he was standing this close to me.

I went with the first thing that popped into my head. “Bed?”

“Perfect.”

But before I could do—or not do—anything, he stepped back.

And just like that, the world snapped into place: solid land formed beneath my feet, gravity clicked back on.

“Sleep well, Delaney.” He paused at my front door and turned the lock. He stepped through the doorway. “Let’s do this again. With fewer dead people.”

I couldn’t even find the words to answer that. Lifted my hand in a lame wave.

He grinned and then shut the door firmly enough that I knew he had locked it behind him.

Air whooshed out of my lungs. My head went light from the air I was suddenly gulping down.

“Well,” I said with a shaky laugh. “Well, how about that?” I smiled and bare-footed it into the bathroom for a nice, long soak before bed.

 

Chapter 10

 

DEATH CAME to our little beach town on a Tuesday morning. It was one of those rare, clear spring days after a night of rain that hinted at better days right around the corner.

Death looked similarly optimistic in his bright Hawaiian shirt over a T-shirt with the words 100% O
RDINARY
across the chest.

I was on my fourth cup of coffee and the last page of my report when Death walked into the station.

“Can I help you, sir?” Roy asked.

“You may inform Delaney Reed that Than is here to see her about a private matter.”

“Chief?” Roy called.

I strolled around the divider that separated my desk from the rest of the station. To Death’s apparent amusement and my own satisfaction, Roy wasn’t the least bit concerned that the grim reaper was in our waiting area. He instead went back to fiddling with his newest Rubik’s Cube.

“Hey, Than. It’s very good to see you. When did you get into town?”

I noticed the temperature in the station had dropped by a few degrees.

“Moments ago.”

“Nice duds.”

He peered down at his shirt and brushed long, thin fingers over the riot of colors and palm fronds. “Appropriate vacation apparel, I believe?”

“Absolutely,” I said with a straight face. “Really goes with your expensive black wool slacks and shiny shoes.”

Roy chuckled.

“One must keep a sense of elegance even when one is in repose,” Death said, airily. “I believe you and I have personal business to attend, Police Officer Delaney Reed?”

“Just Delaney or chief works fine,” I said, shrugging into my jacket. “Roy? You got the shop for an hour or so? Ryder should be back from the ride-along with Myra soon.”

“Take your time. Can’t imagine we’ll have much excitement today.”

Death, ever the gentleman, opened the door for me.

We walked out to the parking lot. “How do you like the place so far?” I asked.

“It is…quaint.”

“Quaint is what we aim for.” I stopped by my Jeep and nodded toward the passenger door. “Get in. I’ll take you to Raven and we’ll get your power secured.”

I opened my door and watched him cross to the other side. He walked with a fluid poise, back straight, head high. I thought if I stacked a tower of full wineglasses on his head and told him to walk a mile, he wouldn’t spill a drop of it.

I settled into the driver’s seat and he eased himself into the passenger seat.

“I need to ask you a question.” I drove to the main road. Turned on my blinker, waiting for a break in traffic.

“Many do.”

He sat with his hands folded in his lap, his eyes taking in the scene of the town moving past us with rapt attention. I couldn’t tell if he was amused or fascinated by the people and traffic.

“Heimdall died last night.”

“Heimdall remains,” he said.

“If you mean in a body bag, then yes.”

“Heimdall represents the power of that name. That power still exists. In you, Reed Daughter. Do you not hear it? Heimdall remains.”

“Delaney,” I reminded him. “Yes, I understand his power is still around. And that it’s…inside me.”

Heimdall’s power had done more than knock me out last night. It had taken up residency in me. It was a weight of sound, a constant crash and shrill occupying a weird space in me I didn’t even know I possessed.

I had one week to find it a new home. I knew I wouldn’t take on the traits of the power—that was the Reed gift: we were completely immune to god power. But I’d watched Dad when he carried Poseidon’s power for almost the full seven days before finding a mortal to give it to.

Carrying the power that long had exhausted him. He hadn’t really recovered for a month afterward.

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