Name: Charlotte Cole (alias: Rouge Remington)
Year of Death: 1945
Total Reaps: -19
Place of Residence: A shack at the end of Stepford Way
Day Job: Assassin
I looked at my new boss and then the team of other reapers, sighing internally.
As if it hadn't been bad enough that I would have to spend so much of my time with the Tanner chick, but the atmosphere was so bone-dry that I could feel the air breaking out in hives.
I hadn't protested when Hermes told me about the arrangement, but that had been partly because of my early-morning confusion and partly because of my curiosity.
What was up with the new training program, anyways? I'd had to learn the ropes myself when I became a reaper, and it was pretty ugly.
Kids these days. Downright spoiled, I tell you.
"Actually, Harper," I started, tapping my perfectly-done red nails on the table, "Just out of curiosity, you big on penalties?"
Her dark eyes assessed me, looking just a touch less bored.
"You'll know when the time comes." she answered cryptically, tightening her glossy ponytail.
She didn't strike me as too much of a stickler for the rules. Hopefully she wouldn't meddle around in my beeswax. Sure, Hermes was a doll sometimes, but he could just as easily be a total wet blanket.
Like when he showed up on short notice to tell me important news like, say, that I was joining a team. I'd been too tired to mind in the morning, but I could swear even Hekate was looking at my hair disapprovingly.
There were two things that I, Charlotte Cole, never did. One was letting someone double-cross me and live to tell the tale. The other was having a single hair out of place. Oh, and going anywhere without at least two pistols on my person. Three things, then.
Damn Hermes. Because of his horribly untimely message my teammates probably thought I was either a slob or a kook. Or both.
I made a mental note to slug Hermes in the face the next time I ran into him.
Just then my watch (a gorgeous Rolex, I should add) beeped quietly, and I stood up.
"Well, it's been real folks, but I have somewhere to be."
The guy beside me, Ellis, looked up disinterestedly and I caught a glimpse of something in his expression. It was the same thing I saw in my gangsters' faces, and even in my own reflection.
It was the hardness of a person who's been on the other side of the law. I had to say, I didn't think that I would find another criminal on the team. Interesting.
Beatrice hesitated, probably wondering whether or not she was meant to follow me.
"Come on, sixpence, I haven't got all day."
She stood quickly, giving a small wave but shrinking in embarrassment at the lack of reply.
I walked out of the place without glancing back, fairly certain that my 'apprentice' was behind me. My place was only about a ten-minute walk away. The proximity was about the only thing I liked about the cafe.
They didn't even have any good vintages, for crying out loud! One of my uncle's cellar speakeasies would have easily beat their selection.
"Are we going back to your...house?" Tanner asked, jogging to keep up with my long strides.
"You can go wherever you want, little lady," I replied, "But so long as you stay away from my Clyde you're welcome chez moi."
"Who's Clyde?" she asked, curiosity lining her features.
"That's a story for another time." I drawled, "Right now, I gotta clean myself up and head to work."