Read Online Reapers, Inc. - Brigit's Cross by B.L. Newport - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: B.L. Newport
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read, but Brigit was done for now. John
would show her the rest of what she needed to know. The third rule
was still echoing in her mind in a voice that she didn’t like.
Silently, she stood and slowly returned to
the bedroom. Maggie was still sleeping peacefully. Carefully,
Brigit lay on the bed and curled herself around Maggie. She could
feel Maggie’s warmth against her body and she focused on it to
quiet the voice that was repeating rule number three over and over
in her mind. Though she was sure it was more out of habit than
actually feeling Brigit’s presence behind her, Maggie sighed deeply
and pushed herself in closer to Brigit. There was no sign of a
shiver that so often ran through Maggie when Brigit touched her. In
fact, the warmth between them seemed to intensify as Brigit
carefully wrapped an arm around Maggie’s waist and held her tight.
Every reason to find the loophole to rule number three was curled
against her and Brigit became determined to find it – no matter
what the cost.
7: Training Day
Brigit arrived at 666 ½ Bleecker Street
shortly after sunrise. Maggie had left the apartment early to make
sure she made it to her first day back to work on time. Mama Dee
had tried to persuade Maggie to wait another week; but Maggie had
resisted the notion with the argument that it was only for a week.
Thanksgiving Break was the following week and she would have a few
days to rest up before enduring another month of teaching before
the Christmas Break came around. Brigit had followed her partner
out of the apartment and once they hit the sidewalk, they went
their separate ways for the day.
666 ½ Bleecker Street was a thin door nestled
between 666 and 668 Bleecker Street. As Brigit stood in front of
it, she searched her memory in an effort to see whether it had been
there before her accident. She couldn’t remember seeing it at all.
Yet, Bleecker Street was not a neighborhood that she had really
frequented during her life. Any memory, if it existed, would have
been brief and most likely forgotten.
A small plaque was mounted next to the thin
door. She only had to glance at it briefly to know it read: Reapers, Inc., Est. 34 A.D . As she opened the door, she
wondered where the original office had been once upon a time. New
York City was only a couple of centuries old. There were no
buildings on this particular spot in 34 A.D... Surely, this office
was a relocation of the original.
Doors with frosted paned glass lined the hall
behind the main door. Her footsteps echoed off the dark wood
paneled walls as she walked slowly down the wood paneled floor. A
door was opened at the end of the hall and Brigit could see a dim
light burning within the room beyond it. Glancing to the ceiling,
she was amused to see the faces of gargoyles peering down at her as
she passed beneath them. Gargoyles, she knew, were protectors from
evil. It amused her that the offices of the Grim Reaper would be
decorated with such emblems of superstition.
“You’re here,”
Brigit’s attention was pulled from the
grotesque faces lining the ceiling to the opened door before her.
John Blackwick was standing in the doorway, his short frame
blocking the dim light behind him.
“You had your doubts?” Brigit asked as she
continued the short distance to his office.
“Not at all,” John replied. “Come in.”
Brigit entered the office and glanced around.
The room was larger than she had thought it would be. Bookshelves
lined the walls, standing as tall as the ceiling. Black bound books
without titles were crammed into the shelves. To the right of the
room, Brigit took note of the wall of boxes that had been stacked
in front of the bookshelves lining the real wall. John’s desk was
spacious, she imagined, when it was clean. At the moment, it was
covered in hundreds – if not thousands – of portfolios stacked
neatly. A small space was clear, revealing the dark mahogany wood
that supported the work load he had lain out for
would show her the rest of what she needed to know. The third rule
was still echoing in her mind in a voice that she didn’t like.
Silently, she stood and slowly returned to
the bedroom. Maggie was still sleeping peacefully. Carefully,
Brigit lay on the bed and curled herself around Maggie. She could
feel Maggie’s warmth against her body and she focused on it to
quiet the voice that was repeating rule number three over and over
in her mind. Though she was sure it was more out of habit than
actually feeling Brigit’s presence behind her, Maggie sighed deeply
and pushed herself in closer to Brigit. There was no sign of a
shiver that so often ran through Maggie when Brigit touched her. In
fact, the warmth between them seemed to intensify as Brigit
carefully wrapped an arm around Maggie’s waist and held her tight.
Every reason to find the loophole to rule number three was curled
against her and Brigit became determined to find it – no matter
what the cost.
7: Training Day
Brigit arrived at 666 ½ Bleecker Street
shortly after sunrise. Maggie had left the apartment early to make
sure she made it to her first day back to work on time. Mama Dee
had tried to persuade Maggie to wait another week; but Maggie had
resisted the notion with the argument that it was only for a week.
Thanksgiving Break was the following week and she would have a few
days to rest up before enduring another month of teaching before
the Christmas Break came around. Brigit had followed her partner
out of the apartment and once they hit the sidewalk, they went
their separate ways for the day.
666 ½ Bleecker Street was a thin door nestled
between 666 and 668 Bleecker Street. As Brigit stood in front of
it, she searched her memory in an effort to see whether it had been
there before her accident. She couldn’t remember seeing it at all.
Yet, Bleecker Street was not a neighborhood that she had really
frequented during her life. Any memory, if it existed, would have
been brief and most likely forgotten.
A small plaque was mounted next to the thin
door. She only had to glance at it briefly to know it read: Reapers, Inc., Est. 34 A.D . As she opened the door, she
wondered where the original office had been once upon a time. New
York City was only a couple of centuries old. There were no
buildings on this particular spot in 34 A.D... Surely, this office
was a relocation of the original.
Doors with frosted paned glass lined the hall
behind the main door. Her footsteps echoed off the dark wood
paneled walls as she walked slowly down the wood paneled floor. A
door was opened at the end of the hall and Brigit could see a dim
light burning within the room beyond it. Glancing to the ceiling,
she was amused to see the faces of gargoyles peering down at her as
she passed beneath them. Gargoyles, she knew, were protectors from
evil. It amused her that the offices of the Grim Reaper would be
decorated with such emblems of superstition.
“You’re here,”
Brigit’s attention was pulled from the
grotesque faces lining the ceiling to the opened door before her.
John Blackwick was standing in the doorway, his short frame
blocking the dim light behind him.
“You had your doubts?” Brigit asked as she
continued the short distance to his office.
“Not at all,” John replied. “Come in.”
Brigit entered the office and glanced around.
The room was larger than she had thought it would be. Bookshelves
lined the walls, standing as tall as the ceiling. Black bound books
without titles were crammed into the shelves. To the right of the
room, Brigit took note of the wall of boxes that had been stacked
in front of the bookshelves lining the real wall. John’s desk was
spacious, she imagined, when it was clean. At the moment, it was
covered in hundreds – if not thousands – of portfolios stacked
neatly. A small space was clear, revealing the dark mahogany wood
that supported the work load he had lain out for
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