Page 4 of Reaper's Revenge
“I came to help you. I’ll grab this while you get the extra coffee pots.” He gestures to the percolating coffee machine.
“Oh, I had to brew fresh, so it’ll be a minute. I can bring the cups.”
“I’ve got it,” Reaper argues. He takes the drinks without pause, leaving me at the counter to gawk at his retreating back. He sets the tray full of coffee in the middle of their table, the men reaching and passing the cups around the tables until everyone has theirs. I guess that’s one way to do it, though not very professional.
I’m too shook up over our interaction to follow him, so I wait for a few minutes, busying myself with getting glasses of water ready in case some of the guys want them. Taking a couple of calming breaths, I stand here until the coffee’s finished brewing and then bring the tray of waters and two coffee pots to their table.
I’m a professional at this job; I can do this. I try to pep-talk myself up on my way to their table.
“Excuse me,” leaning in between them, I place a hot pad down first, then set the pot on top. I repeat the process at the other end of the table, once again feeling the weight of their stares on me the entire time. Their attention is unnerving. They don’t seem like a regular group of guys, but rather they come off as being more somehow. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but I can’t explain it any other way. Maybe it’s because they are tatted-up, rough bikers. Why else would I be reacting so viscerally to their group, and to one man in particular?
“Okay!” I chirp a bit too cheerily, attempting to focus on the task and not stutter again. “Francine is an amazing cook, so what is everyone ordering?”
I glance at the head of the table to begin with, momentarily taking in the patches on the man’s leather vest, claiming his name to beBonesand theirPresident. However, this time it’s Reaper who speaks for the table, rather than the man I’d previously dubbed their leader. “We’ll all have the T-bone steaks and eggs. Steak cooked rare, with scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns.”
“Everyone? All twelve of you?” I glance around, but it’s Bones who nods in confirmation. They must really like steak. I hope poor Francine is prepared. I’d hate for her to try to pop a few steaks in the microwave and have to deal with hungry, irritated motorcycle guys.
Dark and delicious keeps talking, garnering my attention again. “The bloodier the steaks, the better. Tell your cook to toss them on the grill for half a minute, flip them, then remove them.”
I’m normally not allowed to do any of this. Leaving a hot pot of coffee on the table for a customer to get burned? Big no-go. Serving meat undercooked? Also a huge no. However, as I bounce my gaze around at each face, I have an overwhelming feeling Jimmy gives them exactly what they want without argument. I just have to talk Francine into it, as I know she’ll be concerned.
“Okay then, I’ll get this put in. Any sauces or toppings? A-1, ketchup, fried onions, or cheese?”
I’m met with silence. It’s weird, awkward even, making me feel like an idiot for ever asking. I simply nod to the silence and scurry away like a scared house mouse about to be caught out in the open.
Chapter Four
Reaper
Her scent…It’s enough to drive any man wild. But to a vampire? It’s taking everything in me not to compel her to let me have her for my dinner instead of the cheap knockoff. Sure, the steak will taste decent, but it’ll be nothing in comparison to a quart of the rich O running through her body right now.
I have a type, and it begins with O. Always.
Bones shoots me a look; he doesn’t have to say anything, I can read it all over his face. His expression is telling me to chill the fuck out and to leave our cute waitress alone. We’re here for Church, not a fresh drink. I’m sure my brothers could be swayed, but I also don’t want to share her.
“Brothers,” Bones breaks the table’s silence once our waitress disappears to the back. She’s probably gone to gossip to the cook about how we all want the same thing. People trip out when it’s the group of us ordering rare steaks, asking for it to be bloody. If it were one person, they’d write it off as not a typical order, but twelve of us? It has their intuition screaming something’s different about us, and it’s bad for our secrecy. Our privacy is important, and I know it’s one of the reasons why Bone’s has had us come here. Jimmy keeps to himself, minds his business as he should, and never asks any probing questions.
This new woman, though? She poses a potential problem, and I want to be the one drinking from her and compelling if it needs to be done. Rather than voice my opinions out loud to my brothers, I send out an overwhelming sense of possessiveness toward her. As vampires, we’re extremely sensitive to auras and feelings, as well as having our other senses heightened. Anyone paying attention will know I want her, and if they go near her, it’ll be hell to pay. It always is when it comes to me; it’s how I got my road name.
Reaper.
Face me and you’ll be fighting for your life, just like I intend to do when I finally find Veronica. The woman who sired me. She will die, no matter how long it takes me to hunt her down.
“We’ve got a new hospital contact thanks to Mayhem. He’s working on getting us a new supplier,” Bones shares, tipping his chin to our enforcer.
“Good,” Ice, our secretary, smirks, flashing an approving glance at Mayhem. “I’m tired of only drinking from the local blood whores. We need our bar stocked again, and we need the freedom not to go thirsty.”
Vicious, one of our hell raisers, nods his agreement. “I could go for a tall glass of whiskey with a shot of A.”
“Wonder if our cute server would mind slitting her wrist and topping off my coffee,” Chaos, our other hell raiser, responds.
I glower at him for even suggesting she turn blood whore for him. I don’t fucking think so. “I’ll have your blood for breakfast if you so much as drink a drop from her.” I slam my fist on the table, making all the cups and silverware jiggle with my promise. Coffee spills over the sides of a few, and the brothers grab napkins to sop it up while I lay challenge down to Chaos.
His brow furrows as he knows not to press me. He raises his hands in surrender as he leans back in his rickety chair. “Easy, VP. If you want her that badly, I will back off and find myself another tasty snack, one that doesn’t have your name on it.”
“You do that or you’ll be several pints lighter,” I promise. It’s not uncommon for vampires to become a little possessive over whoever they have their sights set on. It’s typically not as bad as it already seems for me with Athena, but we’re naturally violent beings, so I chalk it up to the chemistry between us lighting up my baser needs.
Bones sighs, ready to move on from my impromptu claiming session. He declares, “She’s yours, Reaper. Now, back to business.”
