Page 75 of Finders Reapers

Fletcher and Rome deposited Maddox in one of the bedrooms, but I stayed in the hallway, pacing. I stared at the closed door, wanting to go inside and help, but I felt utterly ill-equipped to do so.

Someone placed a hand on my shoulder, my heart ping-ponged out of my chest as I whirled on my heel. Bouncing off Jamal’s chest. He gripped my shoulders to keep me from standing.

“Come on,” Jamal murmured. “Let’s get some dinner. Try and relax.”

I glanced at the door. “How can I relax? He was bitten by a demon. He didn’t tell me. We had a meeting with Charon, and he was talking about Doordash. Did Maddox ever think to mention, ‘oh hey, Valentina, sorry babe, but I’ve been bitten by a demon, and I think I’m bleeding out. Maybe I should lie down!?’” I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth in disgust. Disgust at myself for being so self-absorbed that I hadn’t even noticed he was inpain.

Jamal took my arm and steered me gently towards the staircase. My heeled boots clanked against the iron filigree, and if my mind wasn’t stuck on a loop of self-pity, worry, and demonic teeth, I would have admired the decor further.

Jamal led me to the kitchen. “Do you know anything about cooking, love?”

I glared at him. “Why, because I’m a woman?”

Jamal gave me a look. “No.” He quirked a brow. “Because there’s a cooking schedule. If you can’t cook, we’ll order takeout.”

“The suite didn’t have a kitchen,” I pointed out.

Jamal spread his hands, gesturing to the open plan kitchen. “We have an oven and everything.”

My Nonna would have loved their kitchen. It was beautiful, with an island in the center and a range that belonged in an industrial kitchen.

Fletcher walked through the door holding a bottle of red wine, cradled in his hands like a baby. He placed it on the island and pulled out a stool, gesturing awkwardly for me to take a seat. “You looked like you needed a drink.”

“L’acqua fa male e il vino fa cantare,as my Nonna would say,” I joked.

Both men gave me a blank stare.

“Water is bad, and wine is good,” I elaborated, looking around so I didn’t have to make eye contact. “Do you have any glasses?”

Fletcher slowly reached for the rack of glasses above the island, displaying all manner of stemmed glasses suspended from the ceiling. In my direct eye line.

I flushed but ignored my embarrassment and instead took a seat and poured an enthusiastic glass of wine the second the bottle pressed into my hand.

Jamal took a seat to my side. Fletcher continued to potter around the kitchen, searching the cupboard for something.

“I saw the security tape,” Jamal said, breaking the silence. “You probably saved him from getting bitten in two by pulling him back in time. That purger was expecting you.”

I snorted derisively. “Maddoxwasbitten in two.”

Fletcher cleared his throat. “He was knicked. Big difference.”

“Purgers are demons that belong to the Sixth Circle.” Jamal interrupted. “Gluttony. They work for the Sixth-king and collect food for him. Errand boys generally.”

“Charon said.” My voice was low as I stared down at the rim of my wine glass and rolled it between my hands before I took a sip. “The King of Gluttony?” I asked.

“Beelzebub.” Fletcher supplied as he straightened, pulling a bag of chips and salsa from one of the cupboards. “Mr. Bub, our benevolent overseer.”

“Why is the King of Gluttony managing Reaper HQ?” My brow furrowed.

I hoped that Fletcher and Jamal couldn’t see the way my cheeks flushed with guilt. I wanted to tell them about Mr. Bub approaching me, but it didn’t seem like the right time.

Was I the reason that Purger had attacked Maddox? Was it because I hadn’t reported something back to Mr. Bub?

I gulped my wine and refilled it. If either man had a problem with my drinking, they didn’t show it.

“The Devil is MIA.” Jamal reminded me. “He went off the deep end, and he was booted from his throne. None of the other rulers wanted the job of keeping things running, and without the devil, Hell's magic went all wacky. Beelzebub stepped in at Quietus for the time being, but I think the seven rulers decided to do it on rotation.”

“Hell runs on souls.” Fletcher ripped open his bag of chips. “There’s a blanket of power that all demons feed on. It makes their magic. Souls come through hell to be rehabilitated, do their time, and then return to the Human Realities for a second chance. Rinse and repeat until eventually, a soul might be good enough for heaven.”