Page 27 of Reapers Don’t Ride

I glared at him. “It isn’t. Everything about him, from his skin to his scent, is perfection to me. I would happily carry him for a hundred years.”

Gavriel put his arm over my shoulder and started towards the back, and the stairs tucked between the bar and the back room. He did smell so good, feel so good, his warmth, his skin and blood. I wanted to lick him. Just a taste, but instead, I carried the insulated box instead.

When we were upstairs, Gavriel flopped on the bed, pulling me with him so he could whisper into my ear. “You’re playing your part even better than I am. Well done, Ruby. Well done.”

The next moment, he was asleep, but I was still wrapped in his arms. The healing elixir must have knocked him out so it could work better. I should push him away, get some distance, but instead, I opened my mouth and tasted the air over his skin. I didn’t quite lick him, but it was close enough that I should have been ashamed. Since I was a notorious murderer, I had no shame, just a craving for more. How long could I justify staying like this, watching him sleep? I closed my eyes. Now I wasn’t watching, and if I relaxed…

I slipped out of his arms and went to the door. The frame was large enough that I should be able to balance on it in case someone came in. To the right was where someone looked first. To the left, the door would be in the way, but above the door, no one ever expected someone to be waiting.

I kicked off my shoes and climbed up quickly, silently, and stayed perched there, listening to the rumbling on the other side of the door. Shane was telling the fish man to check some place in town for barrels. He didn’t specify what was in the barrels. The angel, Lucien, my target that I needed to make feel comfortable, was complaining about Gavriel and I bringing too much attention from angels and the Scholar, who was not to be trusted. I mean, my ballgown wasn’t exactly subtle. And I must have murdered a werewolf for their clothing. Did we need a war with the pack? No. He talked a lot, unable to let the topic of Gavriel and his lover rest. Yes, he called us lovers. And other less complimentary terms.

Shane finally snarled, “She’s doing a job. You have a problem with that, keep it to yourself. If she has an angel lover or a demon, or both, I don’t care. Neither should you. Your old friend has the right to find happiness where he wants it, and I have to admit that female is exactly the kind of thing I’d like to sink my teeth into.”

Lorien snorted, and the door slammed as he went somewhere else. It was quiet for a long time after that, and I spent a few hours perched on the door frame, listening to Gavriel breathe, the silences between his breaths, watching his chest rise and fall in perfect evenness. Finally, he shifted and then put a hand on his shoulder, grimaced, and then sat up. He looked around and then stared at me when he saw me on my awkward perch.

“Are you comfortable?”

I nodded, caught staring at him, but unable to look away. “Are you?”

“I feel much better.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. He’d grimaced. How was that better?

He smiled slowly. “I promise. I feel better. Let’s go take care of this duty we owe our host and then we can be on our way.”

Right. We definitely needed to wrap this up before Tralcon the second rose in power to the point that he was impossible to kill.

“Yes. We’ll ask for the details of the target and take care of it.” I dropped down and then pulled on my second-hand werewolf boots. They didn’t fit perfectly, but they were good enough.

We went downstairs and into the back room. The front was empty, locked up, and the back was just Shane and the fish guy, Rafe, with his flicking chin tentacles.

“What do you have for the target?” I asked, holding out my hand.

Shane studied that hand and then looked up at me. “I have a name.”

“What else?”

His eyes hardened. “It’s a goblin. Works in goblin market. Always surrounded by goblins.”

“I’ve been to the market several times. And his name?”

“Romi. Sells weapons and potions.”

“Romi, the goblin who sells weapons and potions. Got it. How do you want him to die? Publicly or privately? Accidentally or obviously?”

He studied me, brows furrowing more and more. “Goblins aren’t easy to kill.”

“No, but we had a deal. You protected us, so now we’ll take care of your problem.”

He looked troubled. “I’d like Romi to die quietly. Of natural causes. And in the market, surrounded by people who can witness the death.”

“Do you need me to get something from him for you?”

He studied me. “No. Afterwards, we’ll retrieve what we need.”

“It’s better if such things are planned in tandem. Otherwise, someone else might get to it first. A weapon?”

“A person.”