Reaper returned like moonrise on a dark night. Soundless and coolly beautiful.
The slab shifted and she dropped to the dirt floor, the mesh shopping bag in her hand. A burst of fresh air came with her through the opening, followed by a roll of thunder like giant bones knocking together.
I sat up.
Shrugging off the backpack, she took a wrapped sandwich from the mesh bag and tossed it to me. “Hope you like ham and cheese.”
“I’m not picky.”
I unwrapped the white paper. Nestled between crusty slices of bread was a juicy slab of ham topped with creamy Gruyere cheese. I ate slowly, savoring each bite.
Meanwhile, Reaper climbed up the ladder to put the slab back in place, then crouched nearby with her own sandwich. Her hair was in pigtails, which on most women would’ve looked cute but on her just looked efficient.
She ate like she did everything—with a silent, intense focus. Like being secretive and avoiding attention was a way of life.
Did she even taste the food, or was it simply fuel to her?
I couldn’t finish my sandwich. I rewrapped the remainder and set it on the table.
Reaper glanced from the sandwich to me, a line between her brows. “That’s all you’re going to eat?”
“For now. Other than a burger in the airport and the food you brought me, it’s been four, maybe five weeks since I’d had meat. I can’t seem to eat more than a few bites at a time.”
Disbelief flickered over her face. “You didn’t eat meat in Syria?”
I clamped my back teeth together. I was tired of her assuming the worst about me. “I was in a fucking war zone. The meat went to the kids and pregnant ladies.”
“I suppose you didn’t feed either.” Her tone was heavy with doubt.
I regarded her through slit lids. “No.”
“I was there in Syria. Not the whole time, but a few days.”
“You’ve been following me for that long?”
Silence.
“Of course you have.” I answered my own question. “You’ve been planning this for a while, haven’t you? Think about it. If I’d been feeding from those poor bastards, don’t you think you’d have heard? Humans talk, you know.”
She lifted a shoulder, let it drop. “You’re a Kral.”
“Which doesn’t make me an asshole.”
She grunted.
Thunder crashed, followed by a bright flash of lightning. The rain began to fall so hard, drops spattered us through the narrow air vent.
“Looks like it’s going to be a big storm,” I said. “You made it back just in time.”
When I glanced back at her, her forehead furrowed like she was trying to figure me out. She gave herself a shake. “I brought you something.” She got a T-shirt and a pack of boxer-briefs from her backpack and dropped them onto my lap.
“Thanks,” I said with a rueful smile. “I must smell pretty rank. Hell, I can smell myself—that’s always a bad sign.”
Her mouth twitched.
The T-shirt was light blue with a graphic of the Eiffel Tower and Paris, Je t’aime in big red letters. The boxers were white with red hearts.
I lifted a brow at the T-shirt. “The Eiffel Tower?” I asked her. The heart-decorated boxers I wasn’t even going to mention.
The left corner of her mouth hitched higher. “Best I could do.”
I couldn’t sense her emotions, but I was pretty sure she was lying—which meant she was messing with me.
My grin widened. “Good thinking. I’ll look like a tourist.”
She blinked several times. I could tell she’d expected me to insist on dressing like whatever she thought the son of a vampire primus should insist on dressing like. Then she gave a short nod, as if disguising me as a tourist had been the plan all along. “We don’t want to attract attention.”
I rose to my feet and reached for the hem of my T-shirt. Her eyes rounded. She spun to face the wall, giving me privacy.
I shucked my clothes and pulled on the clean T-shirt and boxers. She turned back as I zipped up my jeans.
Her expression didn’t change, but her gaze went to my crotch. She moistened her lips.
I finger-combed my matted hair and watched her watching me.
She wanted me. I could smell her arousal, sharp and spicy.
Those revenge-sex fantasies I’d had? They flooded my mind, sending whatever spare blood I had south. My cock twitched and hardened, tenting my jeans.
Her mouth pulled to the side. A half-smile, but not of amusement—and not at my expense. It was twisted and a little bitter, like she was laughing at herself and her weakness.
She lifted her gaze from my crotch and met my eyes. “Nothing can hide that angel face of yours. And I know you’re crap at generating a glamour. I’m surprised no one recognized you at the airport.”
Angel face?
I was still processing that when she handed me a plastic bag and told me to put the dirty clothes in it. “The cemetery closes at six p.m. When the humans leave, I’ll wash them out in one of the bathrooms.”
“There are bathrooms? You’ve been holding out on me, woman.”
She eyed me, brow lowered, mouth pursed, like she wasn’t sure how to respond to my teasing. “Three, actually—it’s a large cemetery. You wanna go with me?”
“Are you kidding? I’d like to clean up and use a toilet instead of a plastic bottle.”
“Can you make it up the ladder?”
“I already did.”
She glanced up—and saw the bloodstains on the slab. “I was planning on coming back, you know.”
“I know. You need me, right?”
We gazed at each other for a long moment. The animation faded from her face, and I felt like a dick. But it was the truth, and we both knew it.
I might joke with her. I might even be starting to like her.
But I couldn’t forget that to her, I was a monster and this was just a job, a way to get to my father.
She busied herself straightening the table, placing the half of sandwich at the back next to the beef jerky. “We’ll go around seven-thirty. That’ll give the cleaning crew time to finish, and still give us a few hours before the vampires wake up. There’s a dozen or so with lairs in the cemetery, and even more come to feed.”
I curled up on the sleeping bag. “Wake me up when you’re ready.”
I woke on my own a little before seven and rolled over, searching the dim space for her. She sat in a corner, head against the wall, eyes closed. She appeared to be asleep, but as soon as I moved, she straightened and opened her eyes.
I smiled. “’Evening.”
“’Evening.” She looked me over. “How are you feeling?”
I sat up and stretched my arms over my head. Testing how I felt. I was still weak and edgy, and my blood felt weirdly hot, like the silver was heating it. It would take a while to work its way out of my system.
But all I said to Reaper was, “Better.”
She nodded and handed me the rest of my sandwich and a bottle of blood-wine. I ate a good meal—the sandwich and most of the wine.
When I was done, she grabbed the backpack and the bag of dirty clothes. She led the way up the ladder, moving the slab aside, while I followed at a slower pace.
At the top, she jumped out and offered me a hand, but I shook my head and heaved myself out of the opening. Proving to us both that I could do it on my own.
The thunderstorm had passed through, leaving the grass wet and giving the air a cool, fresh-washed scent. The setting sun sent golden light shafting through the trees.
As we walked down the hill to the bathroom, I eyed her backpack. She didn’t seem to go anywhere without it. I’d love to have a look inside.
For one thing, I knew it held her wallet. That alone would be worth something to me, because I had nothing but the clothes on my back and the T-shirt and boxers. Even if I escaped, I wouldn’t get far without a credit card and an ID, but even some cash would be welcome. With enough cash I could buy a cheap phone and enough minutes to call one or both of my brothers.
When we reached the bathrooms, I took the bag with my dirty clothes from Reaper, saying, “I can handle them myself.”
I used the toilet, then removed the clean T-shirt to wash up. I barely recognized myself in the mirror. My dark stubble had morphed into a short beard and mustache, and my dirty, matted hair curled over my collar.
But that was good. Incognito was good. I was too drained to produce my “human,” viewer-deflecting glamour.
I squirted some hand soap onto my palms and cleaned my body. Next were my hair and beard. When I was as clean as I was going to get, I washed the dirty T-shirt and boxers and returned them to the plastic bag.
Reaper appeared in the bathroom door. “Ready?”
She’d washed her hair and left it to hang in wet strands around her face. She looked younger, her eyes big, her skin dewy.
Something clenched in my chest.
She’s a slayer, Zaq. She might look sweet, but don’t fool yourself. She’s out for blood. Your blood.
I reached for the clean T-shirt. “Almost.”
In the mirror, I caught her eyeing me again. She glanced away and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
The pit of my stomach tingled.
I was nothing special to look at right now. I’d lost so much weight, my shoulder blades probably looked like the wings of a chicken. An underfed, scrawny chicken.
But she seemed to see something she wanted, and I took a dark satisfaction in how she couldn’t seem to stop staring at me. The Kral in me couldn’t help wondering how I could use her want against her.
Like the humans said, all’s fair in love and war. And this was both.
I put on the T-shirt and picked up the plastic bag. “Ready.”
Back at the tomb, we hung the wet clothes over some tree branches to dry.
“Take a seat,” Reaper said. “We need to talk.”
I nodded. I had plenty of questions. “Your neighbors aren’t a problem?”
I eyed the shadows. We appeared to be alone, but that didn’t mean a vampire wasn’t watching us from the parallel twilight world.
“The blood-suckers?” She shook her head. “They don’t bother me, and I don’t bother them. If they see you, they’ll think you’re my lover.”
Her lover? I looked her up and down. I hadn’t fucked anyone in a while, but it was more than that. It was her. Reaper. I wanted to grab her jaw and take her mouth. I wanted to make her beg for me. Yeah, she wanted to wipe out me and my family. My dick didn’t care.
I adjusted my jeans. “D’you have one? A lover?” The sun had dropped behind the trees now. My question came out husky.
Reaper’s swallow was audible. When she spoke, her voice was rough at the edges. “I don’t have time for that crap.”
She took out two plastic bags, and we spread them on the wet grass and sat on them. I leaned back against a tree and stretched out my legs.
“It’s been a while for me, too,” I said.
“You’re saying you were celibate in Syria?”
“Actually, I was. Not that it’s any of your damn business.”
“Oh-kay.” It was just one word, but she managed to insert a lot of doubt.
A muscle ticked in my jaw. “You think you know all about me, don’t you?”
A shrug.
I ground my back teeth together. “I was in a fucking war zone, remember? If you think I had time to do more than eat and sleep, then you’ve never been in a war zone. I barely had time to take a shit.”
“All right. I’ll give you that.” In the twilight, her eyes shone like silver coins. “But as soon as you hit New York, you would’ve been out at one of your father’s bars. Picking up thralls.”
“So? What’s wrong with hanging with my brothers, catching up with what they’ve been doing while I was out of the country? And yeah, I would’ve picked up a thrall. I was damn thirsty, because I refuse to feed from some poor shell-shocked human who’s been through hell, and that includes the medics. So if I grab a thrall—who by the way is well paid by my father’s syndicate—then where’s the harm in that?”
Her mouth turned down as soon as I brought up being thirsty and drinking from a thrall.
The hell with this.
I let my head drop back against the tree trunk. “But that’s right. You don’t drink from thralls. You don’t use your wealth and power to prey on humans. You protect them from monsters like me. Except you had no problem tricking me back at the airport. You didn’t even take me in a fair fight. It was three against one, and on top of that, you shot a goddamn tranq into me.”
She made a low, provoked sound. “Drop it, all right?”
I dragged a hand down my face. Why did I give a fuck what Reaper thought of me?
The answer was I didn’t. Or at least, I shouldn’t.
I glowered at her. She was the one with the problem, not me. “We’re dhampirs, cher. Get used to it.”
Suddenly, her switchblade was out, the click of the catch loud in the silence. I tensed, readying myself for an attack. But she merely twirled it between the fingers of her right hand in a display of dexterity she seemed unaware of.
It was a full minute before she spoke, and when she did, she spoke to the flashing blade, not me. “I’m not like you. I don’t drink fresh blood.”
“Where d’you think the blood in your wine comes from?”
Her lips folded in. “I only drink what I have to. A cup a day. That and red meat is good enough.”
I exhaled. “Somebody really messed with your brain, didn’t they? We all have a part in this thing called the universe—dhampirs, vampires, humans.” I swept my arm out to encompass the tombs, the trees, the starlit Paris sky. “Just like sharks and wolves and rattlesnakes have a place.”
She closed her fingers on the switchblade handle, pressed the button. Snick, snick.
“I made a promise,” she blurted.
“To who?”
“My mom.”
“What kind of mom makes you promise that?”
Her face tightened. “Forget it. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“No, I want to know.”
“Drop it, Kral.”
I frowned. Clearly her mom was a sore point. But I shrugged and let it go for now.
She slanted me a look. Sighed. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Something about her tone—matter-of-fact but cautious—made me straighten my spine. “What?”
“Your brother Gabriel was attacked. In his penthouse.”
My stomach lurched. “What?”
“He was attacked. By a slayer.”
“He’s okay?”
“Yeah. From what I heard, he didn’t get hurt. Or if he did, it wasn’t enough to take him down.”
“One of your people?”
“Yeah. She’s dead.” Her tone remained matter-of-fact, but the snick-snicks sped up.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“Last night.” A red-hot fury stole my voice. I sucked an inhale through my teeth. “What the fuck, Reaper? We had a deal. My brothers aren’t to be touched.”
“I know.”
“Then why did a slayer attack Gabriel?”
Snicksnicksnicksnick. “It was a mistake.”
“A mistake?” I threw a look at the switchblade, tempted to rip it out of her hand. “You lied to me. You fucking lied to me.”
Her eyes narrowed like an angry cat’s. “No, I didn’t.”
Her tone was fierce—and convincing. But I was too pissed off to back down. “Then Moreau did, and you went along with it.”
“No. That’s not how it happened. I was told the same thing as you—that if you did your part, then you and your brothers would be left alone.”
“Then what happened?”
Snick, snick. “I was told she didn’t get the message to stand down.”
“You were told,” I repeated. “So you think they didn’t tell her? Or do you think they sent a message and she didn’t get it?”
“Yes. No.”
“Make up your mind, damn it.”
She firmed her mouth. “I mean, I think she didn’t get the message. Unless—” She shook her head.
“Unless what?”
“Nothing.”
“Unless they lied to you, too. Is that what happened?”
“Shut up, already. I handled it, okay?”
I glared at her—and she glared right back. I opened my mouth to demand she tell me exactly what had gone wrong, then shut it again. Demands, orders—they wouldn’t get me anywhere with Reaper. We two were equals in this.
Hell, who was I kidding? We weren’t equals—she had all the power, and it chafed. Big time.
And damn this beautiful assassin for forcing me to face up to how privileged I was. I might talk a good game about not wanting the perks of a syndicate prince, but people generally fell over themselves to accommodate me, and I let them.
“And my brother Rafe?” I softened my tone a notch, but I knew I still sounded angry. “What guarantee do I have that you people won’t ‘forget’ to call off the slayer assigned to him too?”
The skin around her eyes tightened in a small flinch. “I said I handled it.”
“How?”
“After I heard about Gabriel, I texted the slayer assigned to him myself. Rafael won’t be hurt if you follow orders. Neither of your brothers will. You have my word.”
“Fine.” I wasn’t happy, but I couldn’t afford to alienate her. Besides, Reaper was a soldier, not the one giving the orders.
I heaved a breath. “This slayer. Was she a friend?”
“No. A colleague. You know her—Jessa.”
My eyebrows climbed into my hairline. “Red-haired Jessa? The so-efficient-she’s-scary housekeeper Jessa?”
“Yeah.”
I shook my head. It fit, actually—the woman had always been working out. She probably could’ve bench-pressed me. But— “Gabriel would’ve had her checked out six ways to Sunday. The woman lived on site, had full access to his penthouse.”
“He did have her vetted.” Reaper eyed me. The sun had dropped lower, leaving her elfin face in shadows.
Silence fell. A waiting kind of silence.
She’d even stopped playing with her switchblade.
“So either SI is that good,” I said, thinking aloud, “or someone vouched for Jessa. Someone Gabriel trusted.”
“Like your father.”
“Yeah. Like my father.” My stomach muscles knotted. “Although that doesn’t mean it was him—he delegates that kind of shit.”
“But he’d approve it. If it involved one of his sons, especially the crown prince.”
True. But I didn’t say it aloud—that would be admitting something I wasn’t ready to admit.
“Karoly wants you dead. Why do you think you’re still here?”
My mind churned and my stomach felt like it was filled with acid.
Maybe it wasn’t a test. Maybe Father had decided I was too weak, that I was better off dead.
Snick, snick went the switchblade.
I blew out a breath. “Do me a favor, would you? Put the goddamn knife away.”
She looked at the switchblade like she’d forgotten it was in her hand. “Sorry. Habit.” She put it in her pocket.
“Gabriel and Rafe will be all right as long as you do your part,” she said.
“And if I don’t?”
“They’ll die,” was the flat response.
Alarm sent a jarring spike into my chest. Prickles went up my arms, across the backs of my shoulders. Not the good kind of prickles. They were I-have-to-fucking-do-something-NOW prickles.
“I’ve got to let Gabriel know. I’ve got to let them both know.” I went for my phone, then remembered I didn’t have one. I stuck out a hand. “Give me your phone.”
“No. You can’t warn him. That’s not part of the deal. What if they tell your father?”
“Fuck the deal. Give me the damn phone, or I’ll buy one myself.”
“With what?”
I set my jaw. Because of course I had no money. I switched gears.
“The deal was that if I helped you, you people wouldn’t hurt Gabriel and Rafe. Now I find SI has already broken their part of the bargain. So why the hell should I honor my part?”
She came onto her knees. “Listen, you ass. This is your only chance. You think they wanted to let you go? I had to talk them into it.”
I came onto my knees too and leaned forward, matching her determination with mine. “Then you tell them to lay off my fucking brothers. Or the deal’s off.”
Her eyes flickered. “I can’t. My boss doesn’t know that you know about Gabriel. Trust me, it’s better that way.”
“Fuck.” I sank back to the ground, dragged a hand down my face. “Okay, here’s the deal. You’re going to keep tabs on Gabriel and Rafe, tell me how they’re doing. And Reaper?” I subconsciously imitated my dad’s voice at his most dangerous, soft and cold. “If I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll rip your goddamn head off.”
“Fuck you.”
The air crackled with anger and distrust. We glared at each other like two fighters in the ring.
She exhaled and sat back. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. If you honor your part of the bargain, your brothers will be okay. That’s a promise.”
My mouth pulled into a nasty smile. “Then we don’t have a problem.”
She gave a curt nod of acknowledgment. “Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll get us tickets. Passports have already been handled. We’ll both be traveling under assumed names.”
“What if my father’s not in New York?”
“Then you find him. But you don’t have much time. Drag this out too long and the people above me will get impatient.”
I stared at her. “This is my father. Let them get impatient. I’m not going to do anything until I’m sure he’s the one behind this.”
She matched me stare for stare. “Then your brothers will die.”
“My brothers will die.” I repeated her statement through clenched teeth. “Because of some trumped-up reason that your bosses came up with. And you say we’re monsters?”
Suddenly, I couldn’t bear to be near her any longer. I rose to my feet.
“I’m going for a walk,” I told her without looking at her. “And don’t worry, I won’t try to escape. Like you said, I have no money, and I’m in a strange city with an enforcer who wants to make me his personal blood slave. Where the fuck would I go?”