Page 102 of Finders Reapers


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I did as he asked and cradled the candy in my arms. “Why are you here?”

“It hasn’t escaped my notice that you’ve made little to no effort to deliver any information to me about the comings and goings of the Grim you have been assigned to.”

“I don’t have any information,” I whispered. My lungs seized.

I had no experience quantifying the external forces that pressed on my body, like waves of power rolling off the demon at my side.

I had the feeling if he expended even a little bit of effort, he could crush my body until my organs popped like a zit.

“That’s a shame.” Mr. Bub rocked on his heels, his blackened teeth visible as he smiled benignly. “Maddox Pierce and Rome Koslov visited the office yesterday and demanded a meeting with Charon, which the Ferryman stated was both pointless and boring. Now, either Charon is lying to me, or your man out there was in the office for the reason that is neither boring nor pointless.”

“I don’t know,” I reiterated, reaching for Reese’s pieces. I hated peanut butter, but I needed to do something to keep my mind off the demon asking me questions.

Mr. Bub hummed again. “I get the feeling you don’t intend to be entirely cooperative.” He raised both brows, and the bell over the gas station door rang.

As Maddox came through the door, pulling his wallet out of his hand, panic turned my skin cold.

I turned back to Mr. Bub, but he was nowhere to be seen. He’d taken the butterfingers from my hands and left without paying.

I hadn’t even noticed.

Chapter 12

Maddox tried to talk to me several times on the way back, but the conversation died before it started as Mr. Bub’s words echoed through my mind and stole my voice.

I felt like complete and utter shit. A snake in the grass.

I tried to speak up several times to tell Maddox that Mr. Bub was at the gas station and that the demon king knew about whatever investigation the guys were undertaking against him. Every time I tried to say the words, they died in my throat.

I was a coward.

Learning about death, demons, and my family was too much.

If I thought about Mr. Bub and the guys, I felt like my brain would fall out of my head.

I wanted it to go away. I wanted all the newness and strange information to settle and rearrange itself between the shelves of my brain, right between Spongebob memes and my skincare routine before I even began to broach the subject.

I had a feeling that my death tied into the HQ situation, and I didn’t like it.

Life and death were meant to have a purpose.

If I had been killed by Purgers for no reason other than demonic boredom, I would be supremely pissed.

We pulled up outside of the house, past the sign for Needles, California, and Maddox paused before he fished the garage opener out of his pocket. He opened his mouth, but I unclipped my seat belt before he had a chance to speak.

“I’ll see you inside,” I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes.

Without another word, I hopped out of the Camaro and raced up the path to the front door.

As I stepped into the living room, the first thing I saw was Rome, surrounded by what appeared to be thousands of brown manila files.

Jamal had commandeered the armchair and was sipping from a mug as he reclined like a lazy cat. Fletcher was building a house of cards out of the files, with his tongue poked through his lips in concentration.

In the center of the action, Rome was on his hands and knees, his touselled black hair hanging down in his eyes, and his muscular arms visible in his tank top, showcasing a mass of tattooed skin—not a drop of color to be seen in the ink.

I cleared my throat to get their attention, but only Jamal and Fletcher acknowledged me. The difference in their smiled greetings was like night and day. Jamal gave a slow and salacious smirk, whereas Fletcher sat up and grinned like Christmas had come early.

I had to admit, it felt good.

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