Page 65 of TBR: Dead But Well Read

Zacharias was still droning on, growing more annoyed with each quick-witted jab Saul tossed at him.

I wracked my brain, trying to come up with a way to reassure Lochlan. Maybe the best way to prove Saul wasn’t holding me captive was to show Saul affection that clearly hadn’t been coerced. I didn’t want Lochlan to be killed by trying to save me, and this seemed like the least disruptive way of making sure he got the message.

Slipping from under Saul’s arm, I moved to stand in front of him. My hands slid up his abs and chest as I went up on tip-toe. Reaching up, I caught his face between my hands and gently tugged him down so I could kiss him.

What I’d intended to be a sweet kiss that I initiated, without prompting from Saul, took a different turn when Saul responded with gusto. His hand moved to my butt, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his fingertips brushed the hem to make sure my dress hadn’t ridden up.

The fingers of his free hand sank into my hair, cupping the back of my head as he provided such incredible mouth-to-mouth, I thought he was on the verge of getting my heartbeat back.

When we finally broke apart, Saul brushed his fingers across my cheek. He wasn’t trying to convince the room I was his plaything; he was letting them witness how he felt about me.

“Saul! I’m glad you figured out how your dick works, but pay her for her time and send her on her way. This mess could turn into a crap-storm that disrupts both of us if you don’t grow a pairand deal with it.” Zacharias finished his rant by grabbing my arm and trying to yank me away from Saul.

That was the moment I realized my plan to be non-disruptive had a huge flaw.

Saul was still high on sex and he’d decided that only one thing in the world mattered to him anymore. Me.

The only reason Zacharias had managed to touch me was because Saul had been so focused on stroking my face. Zacharias probably viewed Saul’s gentleness toward me as weakness and a sign his friend was no longer the man the world feared.

I was sure Zacharias had a brain in there somewhere… he just chose not to use it.

And Saul was about to show him just how badly he’d miscalculated.

When Zacharias jerked my arm, he’d pulled me off balance and I teetered backward on my high heels. Before I had the chance to shake off the hand still jerking me back or attempt to right myself, Saul reacted with the same predatory grace he’d shown me the night I’d dropped into his bedroom. Only this time, his movements were inhumanely fast and fueled by rage.

Zacharias howled in pain as his hand was removed from my arm with several stomach-churning cracks. Saul caught me with his right arm, and used my momentum to spin me, guiding me so that I was pressed against his right side again. He kept his arm over me, holding me to him as he lunged forward.

Saul’s fingers were around the other reaper’s throat before Zacharias even realized Saul had made a move. He tried to speak, but with Saul crushing his windpipe and vocal cords, his efforts were in vain.

Shadows spread out around us, thin tendrils seeping into the air, reminding me of the way ink spread when spilled on paper. Twisting my neck, I caught the brilliant glow of my soulmate’s eyes. This time, he didn’t hide behind dark glasses. He wanted Zacharias to see.

POP!

At the unexpected crack of a gun being fired, I screamed and threw my arms around Saul’s waist. The weight of his right arm vanished, and opening my eyes, I stared in disbelief at the bullet he rolled between his index finger and thumb.

My terror had the lights in the club flickering wildly, and one by one, the lightbulbs in the wall sconces lining the hallway exploded. It was clear from the pale faces and wide eyes that everyone believed Saul was using the lights to amplify their fear, and I couldn’t blame them.

I loved this man and trusted him with my life, but even I felt a chill of fear watching him use the bullet he’d caught mid-air as a fidget toy, while also holding Zacharias off the ground with so much ease that his muscles hadn’t even flexed.

With a flick of his fingers, Saul sent the bullet traveling back across the room where it embedded itself between the eyes of a man I guessed was an orc and who still held the gun it had been fired from. He was dead before he hit the ground.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed movement from a reaper behind Saul as he adjusted his grip on his scythe. His muscles bunched, and he rolled his weight to the balls of his feet, preparing to attack.

Letting go of Saul’s waist, I turned to face the reaper whose balls clearly weighed more than his brain.

“Don’t even think about it,” I hissed, keeping my back close to Saul’s, prepared to fight if needed.

“Are you joking?” the reaper blurted out. “You’re a ghost.”

“Yeah, so?” I snapped, my irritation rising.

“Ghosts can’t fight! I can end you with a single touch.” His fingers flexed on his scythe.

“Go ahead and try it! You’ll change your tune after you feel my wraith!” Lifting my hands, I shifted my weight to run at him if he came for Saul.

But the reaper didn’t run at me. He did the opposite, taking several steps away and letting his scythe disappear. I knew why an instant later when Saul’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me into the heat of his body.

“Feel your wraith?” He leaned down, nuzzling my neck as though we were the only two in the room and he hadn’t been shot at or very nearly attacked. “What were you going to do, pet? Bite him?”

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