Page 31 of Reaper’s Wrath

Michael chuffs. “Can’t see you following through with that, but it’s a nice idea. Our trail is getting colder every damn day. We need to find something to get us back on track to identifying the shadow master pulling the strings. We have to cut off the head of the snake, or the trafficking will never end.”

So long as there are men on this planet, trafficking will always be a problem.

It’s a good thing I’m persistent.

“Our trail? Since when did this become your fight?”

“Since I learned it was linked to my father’s murder. You’re the one who clued me in. You asked for my help⁠—”

“The fuck I did,” I jab without any real fight. “I suggested we combine efforts because we had a common enemy. I never expected you to still be glued to my hip after Biba was gone.”

“Whatever,” he says, unfazed. “You know we make a good team. And I still don’t know why Biba killed my dad. We suspect he learned something he shouldn’t have, but that’s not enough for me. I want to know what earned him a trip to the morgue.”

“Right now, our best bet is sitting in a warehouse questioning all his life’s choices. He’ll talk. We just have to hope he knows something worth hearing.”

Michael nods, allowing silence to set in around us. I start to wonder if I’ve been granted a reprieve from his chatter. I should have known better.

“Will you tell me more about your family?” he asks casually.

“No.” It’s a simple reply, spoken as nonchalantly as his question.

“Hey, man. I’ve trusted you with my life on more than one occasion. I figure knowing the bare minimum about you isn’t out of order.”

“Nothing about my prior life will give you any insight into who I am now.”

“That’s about the dumbest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard you dish out.”

That’s the thing about Michael. He’s a pushy son of a bitch, and he doesn’t sugarcoat anything. He’s competent, skilled, and almost as deadly as I am. I respect the asshole, which means I’m always going to give him more than I think is wise.

“I have parents and a brother,” I concede begrudgingly.

“Identical twin, from the sound of it.”

I give a single nod.

“Not sure I’ve ever met a set of identical twins who aren’t close,” he prods.

“We were, and then I was taken.”

“I see.”

I raise a brow at him. “What exactly do you see?”

“Why you’ve been hunting traffickers.”

“Wasn’t taken by traffickers. Not really,” I muse, not sure how to categorize the man who brought me back to life. He saved me, but he was far from a savior.

“But you were taken from your family.”

“There’s more to it than that. I was killed and reborn. The kid with a family died twenty years ago, and that’s why my past is irrelevant.”

CHAPTER 19

ELIO

Twenty Years Ago

Awareness tickles my consciousness like the warmth of summer on my skin. Except I’m not warm, and I’m not comfortable.