“He’s not really an ‘angel’ type, either,” I admitted.
“You may have something. Let’s see . . . ‘sweet pea’?”
“Christ, no,” Kristoff said.
“Hush, you,” I said, concentrating. “ ‘Sugar pie’?”
He shuddered.
“I suppose ‘snuggle bunny’ is out,” Magda said thoughtfully. “ ‘Sugar lips’?”
“Ohh, now that’s not bad-”
Kristoff leveled a glare at me. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Party pooper,” I muttered, flicking his magazine in an annoyed manner. He just grunted and buried himself in it again.
“ ‘Pooh bear’? I had a boyfriend I used to call my cuddly little Pooh bear. He was a dream,” Magda said, sighing happily at the memory. “Then he met a masseuse, and last I heard they have five kids and are really happy. Oh! I know! ‘Poochikins’!”
I looked at Kristoff and giggled. He glared at the magazine. “I don’t think so, Magda, but thanks for the suggestion. I’ll just have to find something else.”
“ ‘Sugarplum’?”
“Nooo,” I said slowly, regretfully setting the name aside.
“ ‘Sweet cheeks’?”
You do, and you’ll live to regret it.
I laughed out loud. “Pass. But I think I thought of something.”
“You did? What?” she asked.
Do I want to know? Kristoff asked at the same time.
“I think I’ll hold off on saying it out loud for a bit,” I told Magda with a smile.
You’ll find out soon enough, Boo .
He looked at me, the oddest expression on his face. Boo?
Magda grinned back at me. “I totally understand. Now, about Iceland.”
I thought it was appropriate. You scared me silly the first time I saw you. Well, not the first time, but right after that. You know, when you tried to strangle me.
Pia, if I wanted to strangle you, you would have been dead, he answered, looking slightly disconcerted.
What’s wrong? You don’t like ‘Boo’? I think it has kind of a nice ring to it. It’s short and snappy, but not overly syrupy or otherwise embarrassing.
No, it’s not too embarrassing, he said hesitantly. I could feel him shielding something from me.
What is it, then? If you don’t want me to use it, I’ll just have to find something else-
I shudder to think what else you will come up with. If you feel the need to use a nickname for me, and you refuse to use Kris, then I suppose I can live with Boo.
“Pia said you might want Ray and me to go somewhere else.”
But you don’t like it?
“Yes. Andreas and Rowan will expect us to try to shake them, but they will also expect us to head to Italy as soon as possible.”
“Why’s that?” she asked.
“There is a group of reapers in Rome.”
“Gotcha.”
Kristoff?
Reluctance filled my mind. I suppose I’ll have to tell you. Before I was changed, my mother called me Bärchen . It’s German for “little bear.” Your name reminded me of that.
I laughed. I’ll never wrap my tongue around German words, so I’ll go with Boo. Besides, it really is appropriate. You can be very scary when you want to be.
“We go to Rome while you guys go to Iceland to pick up the other reaper and Ulfur the friendly ghost,” Magda said. “I’ll tell Ray when he wakes up. He’s always wanted to go to Rome.”
I smiled, the memory of a laughing young man, handsome and rugged, clad in clothing of more than a hundred years ago, rising to my mind.
“If his damned horse tries to eat my jacket again, there will be hell to pay,” Kristoff said, turning the page of his magazine.
“I kind of liked his horse. . . . Oh, Ray’s awake. I’ll go tell him the good news.”
She toddled off as Kristoff heaved a mental sigh. Only you two would consider having to create false trails in order to throw off Dark Ones, all the while rescuing a hundred-year-old ghost and a murderous reaper, as “good news.”
CHAPTER 8
“Remind me . . .” I hit the floor with a whump , dazed for a moment despite the soft padding Kristoff had assured me would break my fall. Even with that, it took me a moment before I felt my wits returning. “Remind me next time to take a plane instead of a portal.”
Hands grabbed my arms, hauling me to my feet. I leaned against the warm, hard body attached to the hands, breathing in his delicious scent.