Page 29 of Reaper's Ride
Lainey gasped. “It’s him. The one that chased me.”
The man rushed toward us, his hand lifted high in the air as a knife appeared, poised to slash my woman.
She tried to bolt as I held her too tightly to escape.
“Stay still. I will protect you, my female,” the Reaper ordered with a gruff promise.
As the masked figure reached us, I yanked my own blade free from my cut. It caught the moon’s light and reflected the masked man’s empty features inside the hood of his sweatshirt. He was only a husk—a malevolent spirit left behind from a killer.
The Reaper pushed forward, and his bony fingers clutched the knife, swiping through the masked spirit’s essence. He sliced with precision, using dark magic that I barely had the time to notice before a violent screech filled the air.
The masked being poofed into a cloud of black ash that settled on the ground beneath our feet. The wind picked it up and carried it into the desert. The spirit has been vanquished.
“A sad reaping,” the Reaper grunted. “Disappointing.”
I agreed—too little suffering and screams.
“Thank you, Reaper.” Lainey sounded relieved.
I nuzzled her face, pressing kisses to her neck.
“Wait. Shit.” She blinked as I lifted my head.
“What?”
“He was a spirit.”
“Yeah?”
“Pagan. He wasn’talive.”
Oh.Ohhhhhh. “You saw a spirit. A ghost.”
“Yeah.” She trembled, staring into my eyes. “Reaper, does that mean I see dead people now?”
“You always have. Now you see more clearly.” I tapped my chest, but it was his gesture. “So does Pagan. Two gifts of spirit sight.”
Spiritual sight. I’d heard of it.
“But you’ll be there in case I’m spooked or something evil is after me, right?”
“Yes.”
She blew out a breath. “Okay. That’s good.”
The wind picked up around us, and I caught a familiar odor. It was odd to feel it tingle my nose since I hadn’t smelled it since the day of the accident. A strange mixture of sweat, tobacco, and cheap cologne.
The hit-and-run driver. He was close.
A growl rumbled my chest when I saw his truck pulling into the gas station across the street. He wouldn’t be escaping a second time.
“What is it?” Lainey asked, gripping my arm.
“The guy who hit me. He’s over there.” I gestured to the gas station.
“What do you want to do?”
“Either you stay in my room or by my bike. I’m going after him. He needs to answer for fucking up my bike.”
