Page 121 of Finders Reapers

The diner had a checkered floor and red stools at the edge. It felt like something out of Riverdale and Grease. The staff glanced at us as we walked in, but no one made any movement to greet us. Unfriendly, but judging by the smell of the food, they could afford to be.

We scooted in. Maddox and Rome hadn’t ordered yet but had menus. It took five seconds to decide on a bacon cheeseburger and a strawberry shake. An order that was parroted by the rest of the table, for ease, or just similar tastes, I could only guess.

The open road had a way of wearing a person down, and it felt strange to be so far away from Las Vegas, even though we were back in Nevada.

We ate quickly and silently, with only the occasional joke. I got the feeling that the guys had put their game faces on, even though when I asked if we should be worried, they assured me that everything was fine.

Anderson Reynolds was a recluse in an abandoned ranch house outside of town. He’d once lived in Las Vegas, just like I had, and he’d made the mistake of thinking he could fool the devil.

According to his file, Mr. Reynolds wanted knowledge and the ability to remember. He was a prolific card counter, with the uncanny skill to avoid detection—mainly because of his devil-gifted skills.

Reynolds won more money in two months than I could ever dream of, and I hadn’t been poor when I was alive. The contracted man had decided to take his money and live like a hermit, burdened by whatever the knowledge the devil had given him.

As soon as we finished eating and stepped onto the sidewalk, Maddox palmed his keys and turned to me. “You’re good? You know you can check into the hotel if you want. You don’t have to come.”

“Yousaid that we should all stick together,” I pointed out.

Maddox’s lip twitched, but he didn’t smile. “I did, didn’t I?”

I tapped my foot as I gave him a look.

Maddox’s eyes flicked over my shoulder at the others, who had continued on to the car. “If I say run, you need to run, princess.” He warned.

“I’m not a child.” My teeth were gritted.

Maddox sighed. “I know you’re not.” He conceded as he stepped forward into my space. Maddox was so much taller than me, and I had to crane my neck to maintain eye contact.

With a single finger, Maddox reached forward. He wrapped the copper lock around the digit, winding it into a curl. “I was scared.”

“Scared?” I echoed.

“The moment that Purger came at us in the Bellagio. All I could think was, oh shit. Not her. Not Valentina.” Maddox held my gaze.

“I can take care of myself.” My chin jutted. “I’m a Reaper too.”

“You don’t have your scythe yet.” He corrected. “And we don’t know if you’ll be able to replicate what happened in the training room when you Laced across the room.”

My nostrils flared. “Is that why you wanted this chat?” I asked harshly. “To inform me of how incapable I am?”

Maddox didn’t address my question or outburst

“Promise me you’ll be careful. Whatever goes down. Okay?”

Something in his words and tone melted my ire. I reached forward and cupped his chin. “Are you okay, Maddy?”

His pale blue eyes fixed on mine, and the sounds of the street melted away, and I could feel the scruff of his beard under my hand. Using my thumb, I brushed his bottom lip. It was soft. I wondered how he kissed. Would it be desperate, taking, punishing? Or soft? His pupils dilated, and the Grim bond held us in place.

No matter how much the guys tried to tell me that the Grim bond didn’t affect emotions, I knew it did. I felt it.

Maddox cleared his throat and stepped back, rolling his shoulders. “Just don’t want to lose another Reaper. Not on my watch.” He grunted.

“Sure,” I said breezily. I tried to smile, but I had the feeling I wasn’t successful.

The sun had dipped in the sky when we finally reached the Anderson Reynolds homestead outside of Beatty. The blinding rays cast lines through the mountains in the distance. The road was covered in dust, with no wind in sight.

The mailbox sat at the end of a mile-long drive, beaten up and made of tin without a name on the side. Magazines and junk mail burst from the seams, and at some point, most of the contents had fallen to the ground surrounding the mailbox, baked and discolored from the sun.

The house at the end of the dirt track was painted the same color as the landscape, a mixture of grey, red and brown, but the roof was made was a different color altogether. Shiny and dark.

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