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It wants something else from me too.

And judging by the way the three men are looking at me, they know exactly what it is.

7

The Reaper

Rhett

Ilike being the Reaper.

There I said it.

Ezra would choke on the admission.

Malakai already knows. He knows everything and has the irritating habit of saying almost none of it.

But me?

I stopped lying to myself sometime around 1847. Maybe 1952. The decades blur but I like the chase. I like the moment prey realizes I’m behind them. I like the sound of feet pounding against the dirt. The frantic breath. The quick glance over a shoulder and the burst of panic when I get close enough to touch.

The Reaper didn’t create the hunger. It taught it how to hunt.

That’s the difference between Ezra and me.

He thinks the Harvest made us monsters. I think it discovered what was already there.

Right now, however, I would very much like it to stop trying to murder the woman I’m apparently bound to.

“Sage.”

She’s still on the ground with Malakai crouching in front of her, one hand still wrapped around her wrist while the red ribbon loosens beneath his fingers.

But the second he releases her, it tightens.

Interesting.

Terrifying… but mostly interesting.

Ezra disagrees. “Take your hand off her.”

Malakai doesn’t look at him. “No.”

Ezra steps forward but I catch his shoulder stopping him. “Maybe don’t.”

His head snaps toward me. “Get your hand off me.”

“I will when you stop acting like a jealous husband.”

His eyes narrow. “I’m not jealous.”

Sage looks up from the ground. “Could we maybe discuss your relationship issues after I stop being magically strangled by fucking ribbon?”

I smile and Ezra points at me. “Stop smiling.”

“No.” I deadpan.

Mariah and Ali stand on either side of Sage. Mariah looks like she’s ready to beat all of us with a stick, while Ali looks like she’s still deciding whether any of this is real.