Page 21 of Reaper & Ruin
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Hours later, in the middle of a desert I had no patience to be in, two punks tried to stop me at the gate of where I needed to go.
Two Red Diamond guards with matching Russian accents and bad attitudes moved to block the drive, hands twitching toward weapons they had no business pulling.
“Who the fuck are you?” One asked as he pushed a pair of dark glasses up his nose and frowned. “We aren’t expecting visitors.”
I considered killing them. Not for long. Just the amount of time it took to calculate how many seconds it would take, how many bullets I had, and whether Heaven would be mad about the mess I’d made at her sort of friend’s home.
I knew she’d tell me we couldn’t be mean to the staff—it wasn’t their fault they were guarding their queen’s temporary castle and making me waste even more time in this bland, un-murdery plan.
So instead of carving a lesson into their chests, I smiled up at the security camera perched on the gate and waved.
“Tell your overlord that I’m here for a meeting.”I drawled.“And tell him to answer in the next thirty seconds unless he wants me to start a fire at his house.”
I wasn’t a fan of arson. It didn’t excite me like other things did. But I figured I had to give Beau a reason not to take his sweet time granting me access to his ostentatious vacation home.
A voice crackled through one of their earpieces.
“Let him through, Daniil. Beau said it’s fine.”The guard on the left stepped aside. The one on the right hesitated,then followed. I walked through, clapping each of them on the shoulder as I passed.
“Appreciate it, boys.”It amused me to see them scowl, even if I once more debated killing them.
Only a little bit dead. Softly. With a smile underneath my ghost mask.
The temporary Montana mansion looked like old money. It reeked of wealth and blood that made me curl my lip as I walked over the freshly manicured lawn with akeep offsign. Too bright for the unnatural heat outside.
The large double front doors opened before I reached them. A far too pale creature leaned in the doorway wearing a red beach wrap over a black bikini, and a pair of glittering heels that made her eye-level with me. Which was impressive considering she was five-foot-two.
“Well, butter my biscuits and call me breakfast,” she said, grinning. Then she paused, eyes scanning my face. “You’re a pretty little monster, aren’t ya’? Now I get why Heaven went and lost her damn mind by runnin’ off with you. If you were a decade older, I’d eat you up and lick the damn plate clean.”
“Ruby,” I grinned at my sweet paradise’s friend. “Nice to meet you properly. You’re taller than you look on camera.”
My tiredness made me forget to be normal for a moment. Or care about the fact that watching people on a camera was wrong to other humans.
Boring humans, but still.
“That’d be my new pretty heels and hair,” she said, twirling one foot and stepping back. “And you’re skinnier than I expected. Thought you’d be built like a frickin’ tank with all the murder in your eyes. But I reckon I could take ya’ in an arm wrestle.”
“Fast metabolism.” I deadpanned.
She waved me inside. “Beau’s too busy pulling the stick outta his ass to answer the door, but he said I could let you inside, and asked if Reaper was dead yet.”
My head cocked as I wiped my boots on the doormat. “He sat on a stick?”
She shrugged. “I think so. Would explain a lot.”
I snorted. “I don’t really need Beau. I just need a Montana who can lend me a plane—and no, Reaper isn’t dead yet. I’m not that bad at my job.”
“And what job is that exactly?” Ruby looked me up and down, seeing all my weapons. “Heaven left our friend Lola a letter telling us all about you in case she died on her revenge mission. But I don’t know if stalker is a paid position. Or just how much you toe the line between creepy bastard and sweetie pie that kept her safe and happy.”
A sharp voice sliced through the air behind us before I could reply, Russian accent thick enough to interest me. “Who the fuck are you?”
I turned to the new arrival without reaching for my knife to teach her some manners. She was tall, slender and a bundle of scowling green eyes and braided blonde hair. She looked like she had been carved from frozen marble and filled with gasoline.
She reminded me of myself a little that way. It would have been sweet if not for the fact it made me edgy.
“Yeva, this is Atlas,” Ruby said before I could answer. “Beau’s… friend. Atlas, this is Yeva Montana.”
