Prayer for the Dead (Revenants in Purgatory) Page 3

  The text from Portia essentially asked if I could get home all right, because she wanted to go have sex. I typed back that I’d be fine and she should go get her freak on. The Adonis smirked as he typed out a message on his phone as well. When he was done, he slid the phone back into the front pocket of his jeans.

  “Looks like we’ve been ditched.” He chuckled.

  “Looks like.” I shrugged.

  “Would you like to go get some coffee? I don’t really want to go home yet.”

  The little monkey with a jackhammer trying to bore a hole through my temple told me it was time to go home, but I ignored him and agreed to go. “There’s a great little coffee shop a couple blocks away. It’s open twenty-four hours.”

  He gestured for me to lead the way. “Hey, I don’t think I caught your name.”

  “Oh, sorry. My name’s Olivia.”

  “Olivia,” he repeated.

  God, help me. I loved the way he said my name. I extended my hand out for, what I assumed, was to be a friendly handshake. Instead, he brought my hand to his lips and kissed it lightly. “My name is Drake. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

  When his lips touched my hand, all I could think was...It’s wonderful to meet you too and, by the way, I’m all yours.

  Chapter 3

  Walking to the coffee shop, my headache did nothing but get worse. The pounding became so unbearable I pushed the heel of my palm to my temple, in the hopes that it would stop. I’ve never been prone to migraines before, but it was the only answer I could come up with for this sudden, throbbing pain.

  “Hey, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, just a bit of a headache is all.” I continued to push on the side of my head with one of my eyes scrunched up tight.

  “Come over here.” Drake took my hand, leading me to a bench outside a closed gelato shop. He sat close enough it was hard not to notice how amazing he smelled. The scent reminded me of the mountains after a rainstorm. He brushed my hair over my shoulder and ran his hand down my back. “Any better?”

  “A little bit,” I lied. I really didn’t want to call it a night over a stupid headache and was worried if he knew how much pain I was in, he’d do just that.

  His hand came up to rest on my shoulder again. “You’re feeling better.”

  It wasn’t a question, but more of a statement. His hand left my shoulder, came up to my cheek, and his fingertips brushed my neck. I felt a tingly electric sensation on my skin. He slid closer to me. Naturally, that was when an ill-timed giggle fit would strike.

  “It’s okay, you’re calm and happy.” He barely breathed the words, closing the distance between us again.

  “Sure I am,” I laughed, before realizing he was trying to put the moves on me... and I was blowing it. I did my best to stop acting like a giggling bimbo. I apologized, but he was right. I was calm, happy, and my headache was almost gone. It was weird because, only a few minutes earlier, it felt like a mac truck was ramming through my skull. Looking into his eyes, an image popped into my head. The bouncer. Not baldy himself, but the far off, dreamy expression on his face, just moments after speaking to Drake. Dammit! I knew exactly why I couldn’t stop laughing and my headache was disappearing. I stood up from the bench and walked away without saying a word.

  “Where are you going?” he called after me.

  I kept walking because I was going to erupt if I answered. He caught up with me quickly, but I picked up my pace. He swooped in front of me and I came to a halt.

  “What’s wrong?” He looked so innocent, which was enough for me to lose it.

  I pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Independent contractor, my ass! You’re an Empath Reaper and you were ensorcelling me, you asshole! Did you see anything?” He didn’t answer right away. I put my hands on his chest and shoved him, hard. “Did you?”

  “No, nothing, I swear.”

  “Good, let’s keep it that way!” I pushed him out of my way and stomped past.

  Have you ever heard someone who’s had a near death experience say they felt a strange calm wash over them? In large part, that’s due to their Reaper. It’s one of their nifty little magic tricks, withdrawing all the negative energy and replacing it with tranquility. They’re also responsible for the whole “life flashes before your eyes” thing. At times, the Empath Reaper will also get to view the life rewind. They don’t see the entire show, more like teaser trailers. There’s no rhyme or reason on what part of the life they’ll get to watch. They may watch you eating breakfast at five years old or see something pivotal.

  Reapers aren’t supposed to ensorcell a non-dying soul without permission, for this exact reason. Apparently, Drake never got that memo, because he had done it twice in the past thirty minutes. There are just too many things in my past I’d rather not give full disclosure on—especially to someone I’ve just met. Hell, I’d prefer a lot of it never see the light of day ever again.

  Since the clubs just let out, there wasn’t a taxi in sight. It looked like I was going to be hoofing it home. I stopped at a crosswalk and was surprised to find Drake standing beside me. I had been so distracted by my own inner mind grumblings that I hadn’t realized he was following me.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I snapped.

  “Making sure you get home safe.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll be fine.” I stomped away from him for the third time that evening. I stepped off the curb, right into traffic. I was within mere moments of becoming a stain on the asphalt, when he latched his arm around my waist, swinging me back up onto the sidewalk.

  Brushing the hair from his eyes, he set me back down. “Not bloody likely, if you keep doing things like that.”

  His arm stayed around me until I found my footing. The little twinge of electricity I felt when he tried to ensorcell me was gone, but his touch still made me tingle. Thanking him would have been the polite thing to do, but instead I pushed him away. It’s not like I was going to be killed. I won’t deny that being plowed over by a speeding car wouldn’t have hurt a little... okay, it would have hurt a lot, but if he hadn’t pissed me off, I wouldn’t have stepped into traffic in the first place.

  The car that almost made me a puddle of goo was a taxi, which stopped with the notion it had been hailed. If I hadn’t been so pissed off at the jackass standing next to me, I may have had second thoughts about climbing into a cab driven by someone who couldn’t tell the difference between someone hailing and someone they were about to run over. However, at that point, I would have gladly climbed into a cab driven by an eighty-year-old with cataracts, night blindness, and dementia if it meant getting the hell away from Drake.

  As I climbed into the waiting car, he called out, “Olivia, wait. Will you please let me apologize?”

  “No,” I said, slamming the door.

  Tapping the seat, I signaled the driver to go, and we merged into traffic. I didn’t want to look back, I really didn’t, but did it anyway. Drake was where I left him, watching me go, with his hands in his pockets. He continued to watch until the car rounded the corner and he was out of my sight. Something inside started to hurt and, for no other foreseeable reason, I felt as if I may have just lost something.

  Forgetting it was after four AM, I blew into the apartment, slamming the door. Tore was awake, sitting at the kitchen table. I plopped down in an exhausted heap next to him. Laying my head down, I looked up at him. He appeared beat, as well.

  “Bad night?”’

  “You could say that,” I pouted.

  “Where have you been? You’re usually home around midnight.” His tone wasn’t angry, just concerned.

  “I met someone and stayed at the bar until it closed.”

  “Did ya now? And who is this guy who kept my sister out until the wee hours of the morning, unable to answer any of the text messages I sent her?”

  He raised his eyebrows at me. I dug into my purse for my phone and, sure enough, just as he said, there were four unanswered text messages waiting. I
scrolled through them quickly, discovering, by the looks of things, he’d been up worrying for a few hours. Great! As if I needed another reason to feel like an ass.

  “Sorry, I never heard it go off.” I threw the phone in my purse and laid my head back down. The cool tabletop felt good against my cheek.

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  “No.” I really didn’t, but spilled the beans anyway. “I thought this guy... Reaper, actually... was nice, but it turned out otherwise.”

  Concern passed over his face as he looked me up and down. “Are you all right? Did he try to push himself on you?”

  Oops, I accidently activated big brother protection mode.

  “No, no nothing like that.”

  Even though I didn’t elaborate, he seemed satisfied enough by my answer. We sat in silence for a few moments while I sulked and he yawned.

  “Well, I’m going to bed now that I know you’re home safe.”

  I nodded without raising my head.

  “Hey,” he put his hand on my shoulder, “you’re too good for anyone you’ll pick up in a bar. Besides, I really don’t like the idea of you dating Reapers. You’re going to get hurt messing with a guy like that. You’re better off.” He mussed my hair, as was his way of showing affection, before disappearing down the hall. I was lost in my own thoughts, listening to the hum of the refrigerator, and pulling at a loose string on my purse.

  “Damn it,” I swore, under my breath.

  I lifted my bone-tired body out of the chair and went straight to the sanctuary of my bedroom. Closing the door quietly behind me, I tossed my purse in the closet. I kicked my shoes off across the room, allowing them to fly haphazardly, landing where they may. Pondering the cruelties of the universe, I flopped down on the bed.

  I’ll admit I was having a full-on pity party, guest list of uno, but the night had sucked. Why’d Drake have to try to ensorcell me? Why couldn’t he have just kissed me or asked for my phone number? Why did the universe feel a constant need to kick my ass? Can’t I ever have just one time when it left me alone? Was that really so much to ask? I think I’m cursed. The events in my life always seem to end on a sour note... and people always wonder why I’m such a pessimist.

  Chapter 4

  I woke later that afternoon, when my phone vibrated off my nightstand and crashed onto the floor. Not yet willing to get out of bed, I fished around until I found it. Once located, I answered in a sleepy voice.

  Portia’s enthusiastic voice greeted me. “Good morning, sunshine!”

  “Hey.” I yawned.

  “I was just calling to see how the rest of your night went.” Her voice sounded hopeful I had some juicy details to divulge. She was about to be severely disappointed.

  “Nothing happened; I came home after I got your text.” That was kind of the truth and I think I actually heard her deflate through the phone.

  “Really? I thought you two really hit it off.”

  “Just wasn’t in the stars, I guess,” I lied, again.

  “I can put out some feelers to his friend, if you like?”

  “No, I’d rather you didn’t. It just didn’t... just no, okay?”

  She was hesitant to respond, but she finally gave a reluctant, “All right.”

  She let it drop and I spent the next twenty minutes listening to her go on about the Hipster, who was also a Reaper, named Zane. A British, hipster, reaper named Zane. I could not make this shit up if I tried. Apparently, they had a really good time after ditching us and “luckily” I got to hear every detail of their encounter.

  When I was finally able to end the conversation, I dropped my phone on the bed and stared at the back of my hand, where Drake had kissed. I was not one to go all gooey over a guy; especially not one who had pissed me off so royally, so what the hell was my problem? Why was it, ever since I left him, I felt this weird little pang in my heart?

  I spent the day cleaning to keep my mind distracted enough to ignore those little pangs. By early evening, the apartment was practically sparkling. Tore was going out for the night, saying something about a friend’s birthday and strippers. I grabbed a fifty out of my purse when he asked if I had any cash, but gave the strict instructions not to spend it all in one G-string. I laughed at my own clever wit. He didn’t but called out a quick goodbye before skipping out the door.

  Once he left, the apartment was too quiet. It wasn’t unusual for me to be home alone but, for some reason, I found it bothersome. I folded my laundry, flipped through the channels for a while, but even after my cleaning spree, I was too anxious. I needed to go out, find something to do. I took another quick shower to wash off the chemical smell from the various cleaning agents, grabbed my laptop, a book, and headed out.

  I didn’t have a destination in mind, but I landed where I usually do, a little coffee shop called Despresso. It’s your typical ‘ma’ and ‘pop’ establishment. Very cute and kitsch with mismatched furniture and murals painted on the walls by local artists. They serve coffee in actual mugs, rather than paper cups. It’s the kind of place that, if you frequent it enough, the friendly wait staff will learn your drink and have it made before you’re two feet in the door.

  I ordered a chai tea latte and settled in on one of the many mismatched sofas. The next thirty minutes I spent sipping my tea, browsing Reddit, and checking my email. When I grew tired of that, the book was cracked open.

  Deeply immersed in the story, I was unaware of anything going on around me until I heard a man’s voice.

  “Interview with the Vampire, huh?”

  Taking a sip of tea, I answered with a mere, “Mmm hmm.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “It’s about an interview... with a vampire.” I was being rude but Mr. Yahoo was too. I felt obligated to return the favor.

  “Any good, so far?”

  I slammed the hard cover shut, to convey my annoyance. Ready to vocalize my frustrations further, I looked up but found myself eye to eye with Drake. The coffee shop was packed, but all of it fell away. It was once again just the two of us. I was surprised he would even talk to me at all, after the way I treated him. He either was a glutton for punishment, or had balls of steel.

  “Hi.” I tried to keep my voice neutral, but it came out small as I traced little circles on the cover of the book with my finger. I couldn’t muster the urge to be angry with him. Something about the way I felt on the cab ride home the night before had me re-thinking how I reacted. I thought, perhaps for the first time ever in my entire existence, I might have blown a situation way out of proportion.

  “You wanna hear something weird?” Drake asked, taking the seat next to me.

  “Sure.”

  “I’ve never been in here before but I was out walking around the city and saw this place from across the street. I passed it by actually, but couldn’t shake the feeling I needed to come in. So I came back and the first person I saw when I walked in the door was you.”

  Chills raced down my spine. Given my knowledge of the afterlife, I’m not sure if I believe in fate or destiny per se, but it certainly sounded as if an outside force had intervened. Otherwise, what were the chances, with all the millions of coffee shops scattered throughout the city, Drake happened by the one I was in? Even if it was nothing more than pure coincidence, I had a choice to make. I could continue my evening alone and be pissed off at him, or I could let it go and see what happened from there. I already knew my choice. I took a very deep breath and turned to him but, before I could utter one word, he launched into an apology.

  “I’m so sorry for last night. I just wanted to make you feel better, but I should have asked your permission. I honestly don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

  “I’m sorry too. I was a total bitch.”

  “I don’t think you’re a bitch.”

  I shook my head. “After the way I reacted, I beg to differ.”

  “Hey, I’ve been around a long time so I think I’m a fairly good judge of character,” he inched closer, hel
d my arms up, and looked at me in assessment before giving a nod of his head, “and I judge thee: non-bitch.” I laughed before I could help myself, which made him smile in return. Hesitantly, he added, “Can you forgive me for my previous behavior?”

  His eyes were hopeful and I nodded but added, “Yes, I can. However, if you ever try to ensorcell me again, so help me God I’ll... I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ll make it hurt.” I pointed a finger at him, feigning anger through squinted eyes. “Deal?”

  “Deal.” His smile grew and we shook on it.

  Although the tension was gone, it didn’t quell my nerves about being in such close proximity to him. I sipped my tea, drummed my fingers on my book, and tried to figure out something to say without sounding like an idiot. Fortunately, he came up with something first.

  “So, anything interesting happen in your life this weekend?”

  “Nah, nothing interesting ever happens in my life.”

  “That can’t be true. A beautiful girl such as yourself? Surely you must have gone to a club somewhat recently, maybe met someone.”

  I held my finger to my chin. “Now that you mention it, yes. I do seem to recall meeting a guy last night.”

  “I’ll bet that guy was devilishly clever and devastatingly handsome.”

  “Meh.”

  “Just meh?”

  “Yeah,” I joked, absently shrugging my shoulders and returning to my book.

  Grabbing his heart, he closed his eyes and dropped his head back. All joking aside, never in the history of history, had anyone told a bigger lie than I just did. I studied him as he rested there, pretending to be wounded. Every fiber in my being wanted to reach out and touch him. He was so impossibly perfect; I just wanted to know he was real. I managed to keep my hands to myself though and by the time he opened his eyes again, my nose was back in the book. I could feel him watching me but, for some weird reason, I refused to look up. Was I playing hard to get? Is that what I was doing? Maybe somewhere in my demented little mind, I thought it was a good idea. It backfired big time though because he got up to leave.