Page 129 of Behind the Shadows

The Realtor tapped her phone screen. “How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sounds good. Text me the time, and I’ll confirm once I talk to her this evening.”

We heard the front door open, followed by footsteps. The Realtor frowned. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“No.” Every cell in my body stood on edge, ready for anything.

Black boots appeared around the corner, and my gaze landed on a pair of gray eyes.

“Nice place,” Death muttered, eyeing the realtor. “Can you give us a minute?”

She didn’t argue but scurried around him and down the stairs. He had that effect on people.

For a second, I thought this was the end. The final judgment. But Death didn’t reach for a blade. He reached for me, slapping me on the shoulder.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you. How have you been?” I shoved my hands in my pockets, unsure of what to expect with him showing up out of nowhere.

He leaned against the hallway wall. “Bored. It’s not the same without you around.”

Progress?“You mean Dope isn’t a good cleaner?”

The corner of Death’s mouth twitched slightly, indicating he was stifling his smile. “Dope is a lot of things, but he’s not a cleaner.”

Silence filled the space between us. “I’m sor?—”

Death held up his hand, silencing me. “I know. It wasn’t your fault. It was just too much to process all at once. The fact that the motherfucker has infiltrated us, planned our steps, orchestrated our futures. What the hell do we do with that?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out. Holland and I are taking one step at a time.”

“Ella told me the Pied Piper is Holland’s bio father.”

Shit. Here came the other damn shoe.

“Yeah. No DNA test, but he admitted she’s his.”

Death rubbed his chin. “Maybe she thinks like him. Maybe she’ll be who we need to take the son of a bitch down once and for all.” He looked me dead in the eyes. “Together.” He extended his hand, and I reached out to shake it. “Up for some hunting?”

“Hell yeah. I just need to let Holland know I’ll be home late.”

“Take care of her and see the house tomorrow. I’ll let you know where to meet me in a few days.”

I grinned, relief flooding my system. “Sounds good.”

“Oh, one more thing.” Death reached into the inside of his jacket and removed something shiny. “Thought you would need a new one.”

I froze. For a second, I thought this was it—the final judgment, wrapped in silver. Maybe he’d brought the old one back to remind me who I used to be. My fingers twitched toward the knife I didn’t carry anymore. But then. He held it out. A cross. New, shiny, unused. I took it, feeling the weight of it in my palm.

Unlike the other crucifix, it wasn’t heavy on one end, but delicately balanced. That’s when I saw the sleek, nearly unnoticeable design. I pulled on the edge and popped the blade out, then flipped it over and popped the other out.

“I made sure it had two for you.”

“You bought this for me?”

Death cleared his throat. “No, man. I had it handcrafted. I had to make sure no one fucking put a camera in this one.”

I chuckled. “Fair.” I grinned at him. “Thanks. I can’t wait to put it to good use.”

“This weekend. Be ready.” He paused at the top of the stairs, glancing back once. “You were always one of us, Kip. That never changed.” Then he vanished.