Page 4 of Dead to Rights
How did his story end?
“Well, you’re not going to find out by sitting there pouting.”
Noah stiffened at the Reaper’s sudden appearance, but he had become too accustomed to people popping in and out of thin air to be dramatic about it.
Dressed in a black suit and tie with hair the color of midnight and eyes just as dark, the male looked more like a politician than a harbinger of death. He also happened to be the Reaper who had escorted him to the Underworld.
And he was kind of an asshole.
“Stay out of my head.”
Bane smirked. “Then stop broadcasting.”
Good advice. Since he didn’t know how to do that, though, he ignored it.
“Why are you here?”
“I’m doing my job.” His eyes slid to the side, his gaze flitting toward the rickety dock that stretched out over the river.
Noah followed suit, his eyebrows drawing together when he spotted what appeared to be a young woman with a curtain of strawberry blonde hair. She didn’t seem concerned or confused like most souls, though.
Granted, he couldn’t see her face, but he had learned to recognize the little signs in body language—pacing, hand wringing, tension in the shoulders. This female, however, didn’t exhibit any of those behaviors.
She stood eerily still as she stared out over the water, but despite her rigidness, something about her felt off. He couldn’t put his finger on it, just a vibe really, but she definitely unsettled him.
“That one?” A shadow settled over the sharp angles of the Reaper’s face, and he shook his head. “You can smell the crazy on that fledgling.”
“She’s a vampire?”
Bane dipped his head. “And it makes her fucking unpredictable.”
While he appreciated the information, he’d never known the guy to be particularly chatty. “Why are you telling me this?”
In answer, Bane shrugged and simply vanished, leaving only a stretch of empty sand.
Fucking Reapers.
With the warning still ringing in his ears, he pushed to his feet and dusted off his backside. Unstable baby vamp or not, she was newly dead and could probably use some guidance. Not exactly his responsibility, but with no one else around, it seemed he had just inherited the job.
Making his way down the riverbank, he approached slowly, clearing his throat and dragging his feet through the sand to announce his arrival. Still, she didn’t turn or acknowledge him.
He slapped on a smile and pitched his voice so as not to startle her. “Hey, I’m Noah.” She still didn’t look at him. “Can I help you?”
Nothing. Not even a twitch.
“If you wait at the pier, a boat will come for you. Charon looks scary, but he’s not so bad.” The hooded ferryman with his dark reputation actually had a cherub face and the wholesome dumbass demeanor of a golden retriever. “If you’re not ready to cross, though, there are apartments at the—”
And she was gone.
No rush of wind. No cartoonish whooshing sound. She simply turned and sprinted up the hill in a blur of inhuman speed before disappearing into the village.
Staring at the spot where she’d vanished into the shadowed alleyway, he considered chasing after her. Then he snorted out a laugh at the sheer absurdity. He would never catch her, and even if he did, she clearly had no interest in hearing what he had to say.
His laughter ended in a quiet sigh, and he dragged his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back from his brow. While not his problem, he should probably let someone know there was a new, and possibly unhinged, vampire on the loose.
The sands shifted beneath his feet, slowing his climb as he trudged up the slope toward the cobblestone streets and thatched huts. The sounds of conversation, laughter, and even music floated on the air, most of it coming from the village tavern.
A stark contrast to the solemn quiet that had blanketed the hamlet when he had first arrived on its shores. Hell, even a year ago, the place had been depressing, and it had been a rarity to see other souls strolling along the narrow lanes.
