Page 59 of Reapers Don’t Ride

Chapter

Sixteen

“Where is he?” I asked, marching towards Shane who was behind the bar, like anyone else ever came in here. It wasn’t as vile as it had been the first time. There was a cozy fire that smelled like gas instead of wood, the better for not smoking up the undercity. Actual fireplaces weren’t legal, at least the smoke wasn’t. The floor was still clean, like the walls, and the light was brighter, less dingy.

“Who?” Shane answered, pulling a blood bag out of a fridge and pouring it into a glass.

I blinked at him, feeling weird about taking blood like it was an ordinary drink. His dark eyes glimmered as he set it down in front of me, almost like he was challenging me to trust him.

I took the glass but frowned at him. “Lorien the cupid. I think he knew about the attack.”

“That explains why he hasn’t been around ever since. The poor fool.”

I sipped my blood while I eyed him. “Poor fool because I’m going to kill him?”

“Poor fool, because he’s working with someone who would send mercenaries to capture a notorious assassin, and then after that vampire personally didn’t kill a single one of those mercenaries, killed them himself. We got there in time to grab a few, but no one talked, because when they tried, they died. Very messy deaths.” He shuddered melodramatically. “Poor mercenaries. You’ve got to check your contracts, particularly when working with demons.”

“Which you’d know personally?”

He flashed a smile at me. “No. I know from Frankie’s father, who made a terrible deal with a demon.”

“Not your father?”

“No. My mother’s second husband. My father could never produce such a delight as Frankie, or his father, who actually trusted others.”

That made me very curious about what, exactly Shane and his father were, but it would be rude to ask any more personal questions. I sipped my blood, put it down, and then started tapping the bar.

“That’s odd. Tralcon wouldn’t kill off his hired killers,” I mused.

“Too bloodthirsty?”

Oh. I’d said that out loud. I shook my head. “Bad business. Tralcon was as bloodthirsty as they come, but he always looked at long-term results. You kill off your hires, you get lower and lower quality. They weren’t particularly good in the first place.”

“Then maybe they were tied to Romi instead.”

I gave him a look. “I suppose it’s possible, but what would be the point? Revenge for liberating a fairy? Do you know how expensive mercenaries are? Romi’s a goblin. They look at the bottom line.”

“Interesting. Demons it’s long-term, goblins it’s money… What do vampires look at?”

I blinked at him. What did vampires generally consider? “Whatever is the least disruption to their state of undeath. Most vampires are very placid and like it that way.”

“And fairies?”

I sniffed. “I don’t know fairies.”

“And yet, you knew to get sparkly clothes that Chira still won’t take off. Not any of them.”

“Oh. I need to return her cake box.”

“Her?”

“The fairy who helped me bake the cake and shop for Chira’s clothes. She works at the department store. A lot of fairies worked there, but she was the only one who didn’t mind interacting with a vampire.”

He scowled. “She should.”

I nodded. “Yes, she should. At least snobbery keeps them from rubbing elbows with the things that would devour them.” I finished my blood and stood up. “Do you have any ideas for tracking the angel?”

“No. Did your angel like the cake?”