Page 128 of Finders Reapers

Maddox noticed the things I didn’t say almost immediately. “What?”

I took a deep breath, my head cocked to the side like a dog that had received a hit. “Do you think that Mr. Bub is collecting the souls to feed his circle?” I asked slowly.

Maddox considered my words. “That’s my thought.”

“Yeah,” I tried to smile. “It’s not like he’s actually eating them. Right?”

Maddox’s face was impassive. A mask of stone. My stomach dropped.

“Right?” I prodded.

“I don’t think I should answer that.”

My nostrils flared, and I took a moment before I conceded, nodding stiffly.

“We should go to sleep,” I glanced down at the pillow.

“Sure.” Maddox was breezy, without a care, though his eyes tracked my movement as if waiting to take his cues from me. “Are you hungry?”

“Hungry?” My brow creased as I pulled back the comforter. “Now?”

He shrugged. “I’m going to the vending machine for some snacks.”

“How veryFletcherof you,” I snorted.

Maddox gave me a look.

“Whatever’s available,” I smiled. “Chocolate.”

“Sure.” Before bending down to his jeans, he returned my smile to retrieve his wallet.

I had to stop checking him out. It was terrible for my health. Though I couldn’t exactly die twice, could I?

Maddox stepped into his boots, which looked odd with the rest of his loungewear ensemble, but somehow he worked it. He waved over his shoulder as he left the room. I folded my hands over my stomach and sat back until my back pressed against the headboard. I studied the bumpy ceiling and the dim spotlights as I waited for Maddox to return. I couldn’t stop the smile that tickled my lips.

Maddox was getting me candy. Maddox. Sgt Grump himself. What a world.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made my entire body freeze. I prayed that Maddox had come back, but I didn’t hear the door open after leaving.

It took all of my strength to drag my eyes back down to the single pokey room that Maddox and I shared.

He sat in the worn chair that occupied the desk in the corner of the room.

Mr. Bub.

Someone that, no matter how much I tried to erase their existence from my mind, wouldn’t leave me alone.

I didn’t smile. I couldn’t even breathe.

His body was reed-thin and looked like a strong wind could have snapped him in half—but his eyes glowed a jaundice yellow, and the air around us was thick. Too thick to breathe without pain.

He could kill me without a thought, and I knew it.

Any tired contentment from the day had drained away and left a cold emptiness behind.

Mr. Bub pushed himself to stand, his limbs moving like a spider with too many joints. He reached for the menu on the desk and turned it over with a snap. The laminated page held his interest for a long moment before he turned to me.

“Valentina Rossi.” He clicked his tongue against his rotting teeth. “What brings you to this barren desert. Perhaps you are searching for the same thing that I am?”

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