Page 69 of Finders Reapers

“You were good friends?” I surmised, my expression softening.

“He was my mentor.” Maddox nodded slowly. “I had it in my mind that if I could just get a hold of a skin, I could bring him back. You arrived at the wrong time, and I took it out on you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It's not,” Maddox told me sternly. “I have anger issues, and I’ve been working on them, but every so often, they come through. At the end of the day, we are the people we were when we died. I died in Nam because I thought I was leading my men with the best intentions, but I led with anger. I responded to taunting from the VC. I walked them into a situation that I shouldn’t have because I’d been taunted. I was fortunate that onlyIpaid the price that day.”

I didn’t have anything to say to that, so I stayed silent.

“The Universe has a strong sense of justice.” Maddox continued, turning to face the door.

I didn’t need to ask what he meant; Maddox wore a skin that was at least partly Vietnamese. I saw it in the tint of his skin and the shape of his eyes. It was something that I struggled to get used to—the idea that Reapers didn’t look like who they had been when they were alive.

Maddox reached forward; my spine straightened as I watched his large hand tuck a loose tendril of my red hair behind my ear. I hadn’t realized how close we were standing until that moment. How much taller he was. The shape of his muscular arms and chest. Maddox could probably pick me up and swing me over his shoulder and not even break a sweat.

“We good?” He arched a brow.

I tried not to draw attention to his hand at the side of my face as his thumb brushed the seam of my jaw.

“Sure,” I hoped, my voice projected nonchalance. I wasn’t sure I was successful.

My smile was shaky, but Maddox returned it with a cocky one of his own.

Maddox turned to the door and used his fancy demonic words to open a doorway, and for that, I was thankful. The stress of the day had stolen my voice, and I didn’t even want to think about the fact that it wasn’t even noon yet.

As soon as we opened the door to the Bellagio suite, the familiar sight of the pool table and the bar greeted me. Comforting despite the fact I had only called it home for a couple of days.

I wanted to loaf on the couch and eat a Five Guys.

And I meant the burger.

Definitely the burger.

Porn preferences aside, the suite was strangely quiet.

Ever since I had arrived, there had always been some sort of background noise. The generic sound of one of the guys watching television, making a drink, chatting on the phone.

Silence.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose.

Tssssssk. Tsssssssssssssk.

“Can you hear that?” I whispered.

Maddox shook his head, but a harsh mask had replaced his features. His eyes darted around, economical with their movement as he drank in whatever information he needed.

He didn’t make a sound as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a flick knife, not unlike the one that I had seen Rome carry. Maddox stepped forward, holding his arm out, level with my chest. He flicked his wrist, and the blade in his hand stretched until a staff clicked down in segments.

My eyesight shifted out of focus as the air in front of us shimmered and changed.

Maddox was seven steps ahead of me as he raised his scythe and struck down with a sweeping blow. Something glanced off the blade, causing a sunburst of orange and white sparks.

I squeaked and stepped back, halfway between the reception at HQ and the Bellagio suite. My eyes focused like I had slipped on glasses, and I finally saw what had received the business end of Maddox’s scythe.

Something familiar.

Dog-like, with needle teeth as long as a syringe. Exposed bone, rotting flesh, taller than me, but not as tall as Maddox. It looked like a corpse of an animal that had been left to scavengers.

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