Page 95 of Reaper’s Wrath

She beams and gives me a high five. “Hell yeah. Let’s put in the call. I’ll distract the few guys they left to man the boat when the taxi gets here. Operation Romeo & Juliet is officially in action.”

The only problem?

The water taxi doesn’t inform me until after I’m aboard that they have one other pickup to make on our way. What should take thirty minutes takes almost an hour. By the time I make it to the city, I’ve missed my window.

CHAPTER 49

ELIO

As a kid, I would have thought riding up and down on top of an elevator like an action hero was badass. Reality is much dustier and way more boring. I’ve had what feels like an eternity to think about how poorly I’ve responded to the changes in my life in the past week. Especially where Isa is concerned.

She was brave enough to push me to talk last night. She’s right. We did need to talk, but after rehashing the most painful truth I’ve ever known, I simply didn’t have the capacity. She had no way of knowing she’d picked the absolute worst time to try to talk. Back-to-back conversations about how the people in my life have rejected me—whether intentional or not—were too much.

I had to get out of there before I said or did something even worse. It could have been much worse, but I still owe her an apology.

What a fucking mess.

And on top of it all, I’m about to perform a dangerous operation that needs my full concentration. Going up against a man as calculating as Ruban with my attention elsewhere is a bad idea.

Exactly, so get your head out of your ass and pay attention.

I watch through the gridded light fixture into the empty elevator cab, as I’ve been doing for the past hour. The Russian should be here soon. We knew what building he was going to and when his appointment was, but not which dentist. Without that information, we couldn’t set up a trap. We don’t even know what floor he’ll be getting off on, which is why I’ve been playing elevator cowboy for the past hour.

As soon as I relay that information to Michael and the others, I’ll go in after Ruban, and my team will be ready to help with the extraction, which I’ll need because I’m going in with the intent of getting caught.

It’s risky. I know that.

I’m betting on Ruban keeping me alive long enough for Michael to get me out of here. He caught onto our listening devices. This time around, it’s imperative he believes I’ve walked into his trap unknowingly.

The elevator kicks into motion for what has to be the hundredth time. I travel up to the fifth floor and pick up a woman with a small child before going back to the ground floor. When she exits, a new group enters—Ruban and two other men.

Bingo.

Me: he’s here

Michael: all good?

Me: yeah, 8th floor

I let him know where the men get off, then climb onto the ledge for the ninth floor and pry open the doors. Once I’m inside, I hurry to the stairwell and descend to the eighth floor. The kiosk by the elevator lists three office suites on this floor: a podiatrist, a nutritionist, and a dentist. I cautiously seek out the dentist’s office at the end of the hall.

When I step into the waiting room, a sudden waft of sickly-sweet bubblegum makes my head spin, and a mask is held firmly over my face. I make a fumbling attempt to free myself before the world goes dark.

The next thing I know, I’m blinking away cobwebs.

I don’t feel like I’ve been out long, but it was enough time to be transported into an exam room and tied to the leather exam chair, reclined almost all the way flat. A bright light beams down on me, and a crushing weight sits on my chest.

“Well, well. The infamous Reaper. You are quite the local celebrity these days.” Ruban leans against the wall, broadcasting his impassive disinterest. One of his two men stands at the door. I don’t know where the other has scurried off to.

“Fuck you,” I wheeze.

The pressure on my chest tightens. I look down and realize what felt like a boulder is actually a large white snake encircling my chest, squeezing the life out of me.

“Language, please. Not while we have a lady present.” He trails a hand over the head of the snake. “This is Koroleva Boli—my queen of pain—and I’ve been teaching her to kill on command. You’ll be her largest victim yet by far.”

I can’t keep the disgust from my face. He’s implying the snake has killed for him before—smaller adults and … would he have started with children? Surely, he’d use animals, right? Why the fuck…

I suddenly realize I’m trying to humanize someone demented beyond understanding.