Page 105 of Finders Reapers
I studied him. “You watched that? That was two years ago.” He would have had to go very far back in my video library to find that video.
Rome shrugged. “I am a subscriber.”
“Maddox said,” I replied numbly. I didn’t realize that he had been telling the truth. “Where are we?” The windows were paneled, somewhat old-fashioned, and the brick gave off an industrial feel.
“Death and Company. It’s a bar in the East Village.” Ollie adjusted his waistcoat.
I gave Rome a look as soon as Ollie finished speaking. “Isn’t that a little on the nose?”
Rome clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth but did not give an answer one way or the other.
We followed on Ollie’s heels and made our way down the iron steps into the bar area. The walls were covered in wooden paneling, and the bar took up the room's length once we stepped out of the stairwell. Hundreds of liquor bottles stood illuminated, but the bar seemed almost empty of patrons. Before I could ask why I caught sight of the bouncer and realized that we had somehow entered the VIP section.
Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, I didn’t question Ollie’s connections, as he chose a booth at the end of the bar that was tucked behind a partition, unseen.
I made myself comfortable and reached for the cocktail menu on the table.
Once Ollie had removed his wool coat, revealing his vest and matching cravat, he knitted his fingers together in front of him and leaned forward, ignoring Rome entirely. “Spill.” He said with wide eyes and a Mona Lisa smile.
I glanced at Rome.
Ollie waved a hand dismissively. “Ignore him.”
“What do you want to know?” I asked, confused.
“Well, first off. You were attacked by Purgers, girlie. And you don’t even call your resident demon friend to ask the sitch. Like who attacked you, and why?” Ollie put a hand to his chest.
“We just met last week,” I blinked slowly.
“Oh, honey.” He shook his head pityingly. “We’re friends. Sometimes life just works that way.”
I didn’t know what to say about that.
Ollie rolled his eyes. “Plus, you got assigned to the hottest Grim in the whole office, and those boys have their secrets locked down. I want all the gossip. Who are they fucking? What cologne do they use? Have you sniffed their underwear?”
I glanced at Rome, horrified. “No!”
Ollie gave me a knowing look. “Sure, sure.”
I gave him a look.
“Besides, that’s not important.” Ollie rambled. “Are you undercover? Is that why Charon put you in with the Vegas Reapers? Are you trying to boot Beezlebub from the CEO position?”
Rome, who had previously been staring into space, bored, snapped to attention. “Who told you about that?” He was out of his seat with his hand on Ollie’s collar before I could blink.
I didn’t know who to bet against in a fight, Reaper or Demon—but as quickly as Rome had grabbed Ollie, Rome was thrust back into his seat, gasping for air like a fish.
Demon beat Reaper, it seemed.
Ollie adjusted his collar. “Everyone knows, honey.” Ollie gave Rome a pointed look. “No one wants Mr. Bub in that CEO chair. He doesn’t have a clue how all of this works. The only reason Gluttony doesn’t want to give up the position is that… well, he’s Gluttony. He wants everything to excess.”
I frowned as I tried to parse together his words, unsure of what he meant.
“Who do you think lied to Charon about those missing files?” Ollie studied his nails. “I’ve got to protect my girl—who still hadn’t told me who, if any, she wants to bang.”
“My sex life doesn’t seem important in the grand scheme of all this intrigue,” I joked.
Rome took his phone out of his pocket. I caught a glimpse of the screen. The words SASHA CALLING jabbed me in the brain like an ice pick as he excused himself to take the call.
Table of Contents
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