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Brit held out her hands. “Chill. It was sixteen years ago.”
Denier growled. “Was there any other fallout?”
“Well, I met my first reaper when I was twelve. The biker gang that the guy belonged to sent a reaper to take care of me.”
He stared at her. “So, that’s why you asked me...”
“Yeah. I didn’t know how long a memory was when it came to that kind of thing.”
“Well, they obviously didn’t complete the contract.”
She shrugged. “No, but it is outstanding. Still open.”
His eyes widened, and he checked something on his com. He frowned. “What was your original name?”
“Wells. Bethany Wells.”
His eyes widened, and he nodded. “The contract is still outstanding. We can sort it if you like.”
Salat sat up, “Denier...”
“She will return alive. Probably better dressed. I will take her home first and then sort out the issue, and from there, I will return her home... eventually.”
Brit sipped at her coffee. “I don’t have a home. I have a registry house.”
Khytten gasped. “Stay with us.”
“No. You have enough of a population boom in this house. I don’t want to bring any non-formally dressed reapers to the door.”
Salat grinned. “C’mon. It will be fun, little sis.”
She snorted and nibbled some bacon. “No. You don’t bring trouble home.”
Khytten smiled slyly. “You came here yesterday.”
The bacon formed a lump in her throat. “You are right. I am so sorry.”
Khytten looked stricken in a rush. “I didn’t mean that. You are always welcome.”
“I knew that, and I took advantage. I just had no idea that he could track me.”
Denier huffed and got to his feet, walking around the table toward her. “Come on. Let’s get the contract lifted.”
She got to her feet, and he looked down and shook his head. “Still no shoes?”
She shrugged.
He huffed again and lifted her in his arms. “I can walk, you know.”
He chuckled. “This is easier when we are walking through shadows.”
“Walking through...” She looked at the shadowed doorway, and he walked through, and the world went cold.
She kept her eyes closed as she was suspended in darkness and gasped when light surrounded them.
“What have you brought home, my son?”
She peeped through slitted eyes, and a very elegant and well-dressed woman was rising from a chair.
