Page 3 of Right Hand Of The Reaper
“Mm-hm.” I took a sip of my martini and held the guy’s stare. His eyes flickered briefly before his bravado came back with a renewed force.
Another couple of vampires walked up behind him, no doubt his equally stupid buddies, and looked like they were prepared to jump in and back him up in a fight. One was in a Hawaiian shirt and the other a dirty looking denim jacket.
I grinned. Bar brawls were my specialty. “Gentlemen, I’ll give you one last chance to walk away with all your limbs attached.”
“Frank, just do as the lady says,” Mikey grumbled, clearly trying to protect his bar. I’d helped him to get this place up and running a few years ago and in return he’d give me free cocktails and a place to blow off steam. Not many people were tolerant of my kind, but I had a feeling I was starting to make him regret letting me in in the first place. Maybe I should take this outside. I liked my free martinis.
Frank the Weasel snorted and let his fangs drop and his nails extend into wicked looking talons.
I sighed and cast an apologetic glance at Mikey. I slid off my stool and pointed a finger at Frank. “Come with me, Frank. There’s some cement in the alley out back with your name written on.”
Then I turned and walked towards the back exit with three pissed off vampires in tow.
The cool air of the night hit my shoulders. It was a balmy night which was unusual for this time of year. The moon was high in the sky, its lunar rays casting eerie shadows making me feel like I’d stepped onto a horror movie set. I blessed Nyx for a beautiful night and the joy that was going to come from breaking a few bones.
I looked at the trio of vampires and beckoned them closer with a curl of my finger and a smirk on my face.
They circled around me and there was a moment of silence before they launched themselves at me. They attacked together but they weren’t a well-oiled team. They got in each other’s way as they tried to take the glory of taking me down. Frank cursed as his cheek met my open palm. The Hawaiian shirt kicked out a leg, but I dodged it and swiped his other from under him. He fell to the ground with a thud and a yelp. Denim jacket aimed his right fist at my gut, but I blocked his attack before thrusting the heel of my palm into his nose. There was a satisfying crunch and he fell back a few paces leaving me with a small ring of space around me.
Again, they attacked and again I knocked them to the ground.
Out the corner of my eye I noticed a group of onlookers gathering at the entrance of the alleyway. Urgh. I hated creating a scene. Especially since I was dealing with vampires in vampire territory. Norman was going to throw a fit when he found out. He was going to have to handle a whole messy PR coverage and he’d just have one more reason to hate my guts. He was a ghost and handled all our PR. He’d probably quit just to haunt me over this.
Ah, well. Too late now. Better get it over with before it turned into an even bigger disaster.
I called the darkness to me and let it swallow me into its cool embrace.
“What the fuck?” I heard someone shout.
The air rippled around us, and electricity charged along my nerves as I felt the transformation taking hold.
“Oh, shit!” There was a scuffle of feet as someone ran out the alley.
My skin peeled away, and my dress morphed into a dark cloak of shadows. The material and my bright red hair swirled in a phantom breeze.
Screams echoed down the alleyway and the crowd dispersed as they realised what I was.
A Reaper.
I rolled my neck and looked at the pathetic heap frantically trying to crawl away from my feet. Not that there were really any feet under the cloak.
“I’m sorry,” Frank spluttered. “I didn’t mean to.”
I reached out my hand and grabbed his collar, dragging his face closer to my own.
“I gave you a chance, Frank. You’ve only got yourself to blame.” My voice had deepened and turned gravely with my transformation.
Frank turned his beady eyes up at me and I caught a reflection of my face in his wide eyes. Even after all this time, it still freaked me out sometimes. Half my skin had disappeared from my face, exposing the bone beneath. The surface was carved with intricate patterns and swirls, much like a tattoo on skin. I had no idea where they had come from, or what they meant, just that they had always been there. One of my eyes was just an empty socket with a thick dark void of pure nothingness. As black and dense as the emptiness of space. It could send even the bravest of men to the edge of madness.
“I’ll leave. I’ll never come back. Please!” He begged.
“It’s too late for that. You’re lucky it’s my night off.”
The smell of piss permeated the air. Urgh. Pathetic.
“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, Frank.”
“Please,” he whined. “I didn’t know you were a Reaper.”
