Reaping Love by Crymsyn Hart Page A

shop to deal with the storm. Vic raised his hand. “Be seeing you soon.”
    Ethan did not hear him because the door had already slammed shut. Vic ran his fingers through his black hair and glanced at the clock. It was time to close up shop. A clap of thunder shook the building, making him wonder if the gods were trying to collapse it. The static electricity in the air was putting him on edge. Something was brewing and it made his bones ache. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Lightning illuminated the sky casting shadows through the café. The lights flickered and blinked off. Another flare lit the horizon. He sensed something coming, something bigger than him with wings and jaws coming to do evil things. It passed over the Holy Grounds, but it left a residue over him he could not shake that threatened to bring out his true nature. This was the most out of control he had felt since he had been blessed with the position of grim reaper over four hundred years ago. His was a lonely existence and Vic was used to that, but it hurt him to think about the one who got away. Nadine.
    I can’t think about her . He walked over to the door and locked it, knowing Holy Grounds was devoid of life. With the power out, he could not serve any more customers. There was light enough from the passing cars for him to see by, and being what he was he could see in the dark. He straightened and wiped the tables before rearranging the coffee station, making sure the condiments for the coffee were in order. His hand settled on the shaker labeled mocha, a mixture of ground chocolate and coffee beans. He inhaled the fragrance and it struck a chord. It was the same exact scent he associated with Nadine. She had been a regular who always ordered a Mocha Espresso with an extra shot of mocha and no whipped cream. She came in with a smile and brightened his day no matter how sour of an afternoon or evening he was having. Nadine was his ray of hope that the world was good among the fuckups he dealt with. Nadine always had a kind word for him or a gentle touch. Vic assumed Nadine might have felt something for him, but he never acted upon it. And when it came the time he realized he cared for the boisterous customer, her number was up and he had to collect her soul. It was the one time he wished he could resign his occupation and keep her safe. Her reaping had plagued him for the past sixteen months and made him realize how alone he was. His heart longed for a companion who could fill his lonesome nights and enjoy a good cup of java.
    Vic went behind the counter and began to close out the register when he heard the bell ring above the door once more. He looked up and noticed the door remained locked. The thunderstorm continued to rage outside, shaking the windows in their moorings. An alarm on one of the coffee makers sounded through the shop, causing him to jump. He gritted his teeth. Vic turned the alarm off when he sensed something within the shop. He spun around scrutinizing the shadows, but saw no one. A bottle of chocolate syrup flew across Holy Grounds and landed on the counter, oozing out onto the spot where he been cleaning earlier.
    “Whoever you are, this isn’t funny,” he growled.
    Vic grabbed a towel and sopped up the syrup, wiping the cloth around in a circle. He felt something behind him. He froze. Fingers slipped over the top of his hand and entwined with his, pressing on the cloth. Someone pressed up against his back. Cold breath blasted against his nape and sent a shiver walking down his spine. Whoever was behind him had a smaller frame. He glanced at the hand over his and saw dainty, artistic fingers. The middle finger had a thin silver band wrapped around it. Lightning lit the inner space again, giving him a better glimpse of the hand on his. For a second, he saw bones without flesh and felt another dash of frigid power zap him.
    “If you keep wiping this one spot, then you will wear down the varnish on the wood.”
    His very