Reaping Love by Crymsyn Hart

Reaping Love
     
    Vic continued to wipe down the counter. No matter how long he rotated that darn cloth, he was never going to get it cleaner than it already was. But that was not the point. His thoughts were fixed on the one thing he was sure he could never have again. He tried to force his mind from the one vision that haunted him. Nadine. Her full lips, stunning gray eyes that bordered on violet, and cascading caramel locks. For an instant, she had turned her eyes on him and then, the way all the others did, she had departed. That was nothing new. They all left him and normally Vic did not remember the ones who passed through his grasp. Nadine was the one who had stuck with him. Even the sound of her voice had done wonderful things to him, but he had to let her go on.
    The bell above the door dinged again signaling a customer had come in. Vic pulled his thoughts from the desolate path they were leading and focused on the man before him. His suit was rumpled and his comb-over tousled from the raging wind that threatened to blow anyone away who dared the tempest advancing on the city. Spears of rain pounded the glass and drenched the café. Luckily, he did not have to worry about venturing out into it because he had an apartment above Holy Grounds. Although the shop was set up in an old church, the patrons who came in were no saints. Especially the one before him.
    “Usual, Ethan?” Vic asked, tucking the rag through a loop on his apron.
    “Yes,” the other man grunted and dug into his wallet with fat fingers.
    The barista flashed him a smile and brewed his drink, steamed milk with three shots of espresso. Ethan drummed his fingers on the counter and checked his watch. Vic glanced at him over the steamer and tried to concentrate on making his drink, but Ethan was growing impatient, probably getting ready to defend some other person who needed to be in jail, but that was not how he saw it. All that revolved around Ethan Barret was money.
    “You done with that yet?” Ethan huffed.
    Vic plastered on his best smile and snapped the lid onto his regular’s cup. He slid the coffee cup across the spot where he had tried to clean. Ethan handed him a piece of plastic to pay for the concoction. As Vic took the card, his fingers brushed the customer’s hand and a shock went through him. Images of Ethan standing on the courthouse steps, arguing with reporters, someone with a gun pushing through the crowd and shooting him. A cold chill rushed through Vic. The air around him crystallized and time stopped. He felt his arm changing and losing mass. When he glanced at his fingers, they were skeletal. Vic ran his hands over his face and felt the bones of his cheeks where the skin had melted away revealing his true identity.
    Ethan had frozen while reaching to take his coffee. A faint red radiance emanated around the attorney. Vic’s fingers prickled and made him yearn to reach into Ethan’s red glow and yank it from him. It was almost his time, but not quite yet. The desire was there, but Vic knew if he pulled out Ethan’s soul for collection it would only cause problems for him. He turned his fingers into a fist, gathered his power so that he slipped back into the real world, and returned his mouth to the smile he had on before he slid out of normal time.
    When time returned to normal, he took Ethan’s debit card and slid it through the credit card machine. As he did, Vic caught his reflection. He had returned to normal—his disguise had not been compromised. That had only happened once with Nadine. She had touched him and his human façade had melted away. The mystery of why that happened remained an enigma to him. She had been the only one to break his mask and she had moved through his grasp. The thought of her pained him.
    “Are you done?” Ethan snapped and tore his debit card from Vic’s hand.
    “Did you need your receipt?” Vic asked.
    The attorney swore under his breath and grabbed the coffee before tearing out of the