Page 34 of A Shadow in the Reaping
So then how did it die?
"We don't know. There were no external wounds, no evidence of trauma."
I run my fingers across the chest to ensure I'm not missing something. There's no hidden Y-incision stitched beneath the fur.
You haven't performed an autopsy, so you don't know if it died by virtue of the fact it's a fucking frankencreature that's not meant to survive in the first place.
"The only Reaper who can perform one is hunting a warlock for the Crime of Exposure."
What, the warlock was on Onlyfans too?
Ashen rolls his eyes, pressing his fingers to the space between his brows. "He informed a human about the existence of immortals."
So what?
"He then proceeded to kill two werewolves to demonstrate his point."
Meh, two werewolves. Not much of a loss.
"Then he equipped the human with silver armor and weaponry and together they killed the entire pack."
Maybe that's a little bad, but still. WEREWOLVES.
"And following that the human dubbed himself Ghostface Wolfkiller and created a YouTube channel dedicated to his findings on werewolves and vampires."
Okay yeah, that's super bad.
Ashen's lips twitch in a faint smirk that fades as quickly as it appears. He jerks a nod toward the body. "Is there anything that you can find? Anything you can see that I can't? Anything you can... smell?"
I give Ashen a dead-eye glare as I cast my pen across the paper.I'm not sniffing THAT,my note says, and I point to the white sheet as I turn the message toward him and shake my head.
A tiny glimmer of flame shines in Ashen's eyes. "I'll make you a pitcher of fangria tonight if you do."
Fangria?
Ashen shrugs and breaks my gaze as though he doesn't want me to see the gleam of mischief that brightens his eyes. "I thought of it earlier, based on your idea of blofee. Sangria with blood. I brought some with us."
Why have I never thought of this idea before? It's fucking genius. I whip my pen across a fresh page.
A pitcher you say?
"Yes. The whole thing."
Well hold onto your butts, Reaper, because I'm about to sniff a hybrid's dick for clues.
Ashen hides a laugh in a cough and raises the sheet for me with a sweep of his hand as an invitation. "Enjoy."
Let me work my way there at least, for Christsakes, I write, and toss him my journal before starting at the hybrid's face. From the first sniff, there’s an unexpected array of information in the smell, but I try to keep my expression stoic. I follow the scents across the hybrid’s body, taking my time until I make it down to his lower abdomen. I straighten for a moment to gather myself and swallow the bile that shocks my throat with its burn before giving the Reaper a smug smile. He bites the edge of his lip and tries his hardest to cultivate a serious expression. I keep my eyes on him for as long as I can as I lean down and sniff the hybrid beneath the sheet.
"Don't be afraid, vampire, that anaconda won't bite."
I snort a laugh and pull away to regroup myself. Even at a distance the smell down there is fucking rank, but I need to get closer to pick up any nuances within the scent. I press my eyes closed as tight as they'll go, take a deep breath of clean air, and then move closer until I'm only a few inches away. I swallow and inhale, taking in as little of the scent I can, testing it in my nostrils and the back of my throat.
As soon as I've got what I need I jerk away, pressing my hand to my nose and mouth as I try to clear the smell from my nostrils. Ashen lets out a roaring laugh. I can't help the smile I beam at him as the rich, warm sound enlivens the empty space around us. I would stand in this room forever just to hear his laugh echo from the walls.
"Of all the immortals I've ever met, you are by far the strangest," Ashen says, and his smile is vibrant with delight.
Watch out, Reaper, you almost sound like that's a good thing,I write, giving him a teasing smile as he looks up from my note.If you promise me an extra pitcher, I'll even tell you what I found.
