Page 6 of Bitter Spirits

“Who said I was?”

“Now who’s the smart-ass?” She rubbed her arms, trying to get the hairs standing on end to chill out. It wasn’t working.

“You okay?”

She looked over shoulder to find him watching her. “I’m fine,” she lied as she put a little more space between her and the temptation residual death presented.

That was the thing about being a Reaper. The minute she got near a recent death event, the urge to play with the lingering essence became nearly impossible to ignore. At the moment, the dark whispers were easy to drown out—all she had to do was focus on how irritating it was to deal with Locke. But that wouldn’t hold them back for long.

She played with the scythe charm on her necklace as she stepped around the bloodied knife and moved to the island that separated the living room and the kitchen. One of the barstools was tipped over, and a hefty butcher knife lay under its padded back, its blade clean. On the island’s stone surface, the block knife holder lay on its side, a couple of blades still gamely holding on. She rounded the island’s far end and spotted the shattered glass on the floor near the fridge. One of the stainless-steel doors sported a dent, confirming that Kelly had a hell of a throwing arm. In the area between the island and the stove, the glass pieces were mixed with smears of blood and water, marring the laminated wood floor. More blood marked the lower white cabinets, along with scorch marks. Letting go of her charm, Isa skirted the mess on the floor and got close enough to brush her finger carefully over one of the burns. The surface was smooth, but her finger came back coated with soot.

Those aren’t from cooking.

If Kelly was right and Leo was a muni, that kind of non-damage to the cabinet’s surface shouldn’t exist. Only a skilled fire mage could manage that kind of control. Straightening, she wiped her finger on her jeans.

She nearly jumped when she turned around to find Locke standing at the end of the island, watching her. “What?”

He leaned his hip against the island and folded his arms. “You going to tell me what happened here?”

“Only if you tell me why you showed up.” If Locke was after Leo, then Kelly’s problems might be bigger than Isa had anticipated.

There was a long moment of quiet before Locke grudgingly admitted, “I’m tracking a missing person. Leo was the one of the last people seen with them.”

A jumble of questions clamored for attention. She picked one. “Who’s missing?”

He shook his head. “Nope, I answered yours. Time for you to answer mine.” He glided closer, deliberately invading her space. “What are you doing here?”

Her pulse, which had finally leveled off, kicked up again, this time with something a lot more dangerous than nerves. She could shove him away, but in the deepest pit of her consciousness, she knew touching him would be a huge mistake. Instead, she fisted her hands, lifted her chin, and gathered her irritation into an impenetrable shield. “There was a situation earlier, and Leo was involved. I was coming to talk to him.”

“Talk?” he asked in disbelief. “Talking doesn’t lead to that.” He motioned back to where Leo lay.

She kept her gaze on him. “I told you, I found him like that.”

“And you didn’t call the police?”

His question held just enough condescension to trigger her temper. “Not like I had a chance, considering you barged in just after I got here.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “But hey, I can fix that, and we can both spend the next couple of hours answering uncomfortable questions.”

“Wouldn’t be uncomfortable for me.”

Of course not, because he’s part of the all-powerful Cordova Family. The urge to snarl in frustration was so strong it escaped her clenched teeth in a feral hiss as she pushed past him.

She didn’t get far. He caught her arm in a gentle but firm grip. “Tell me about the situation.”

She was already shaking her head. “No.”

His eyes narrowed at her bitten-out refusal. “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“Okay, then who are you protecting?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, a muscle jumped in his jaw. “Des?”

She snorted as she tested his hold. “Please. Des doesn’t need my protection.”

“Then who?”

Recognizing that he wasn’t going to drop this, she reluctantly said, “One of my servers.”

He finally let her go. “So your server killed him?”