Reaper Unhinged (Deadside Reapers #6) - Debbie Cassidy Page 0,85

of the elements, and then Azazel lifted me off the sofa, and I was kissing him, legs wrapped around his waist, hands in his hair. He tasted like smoky fires and freedom.

“Ahem?”

Azazel gripped me harder, deepening the kiss for one delicious moment before breaking it.

“Thank you,” Mal drawled.

Azazel reluctantly set me on my feet, and I stepped into Mal’s arms. He hugged me tight, his hands diving into my hair, lips grazing my cheek.

“I fucking missed you. I’ll show you how much once this is over.”

“Are we going to have a problem, Azazel?” Grayson asked.

Oh shit.

I’d almost forgotten about Azazel’s curse. The one that made him keep me, the last descendant of Cain, alive.

Azazel’s silver eyes dipped to me. “I’m compelled to keep her alive. Although there is a risk in this, doing nothing means certain death for her and consequences for Lilith.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t feel compelled to stop this. I think the curse, whatever it is, understands this is the only way to save Fee.”

“And if he tries to act up, I’ll put him out for a while,” Mal said with a smirk.

Yeah, I bet he’d enjoy that.

Azazel stripped off his weapons belt and holster and handed them to Mal. “I’m ready. I’m here.”

The fear, the nerves, the rock on my chest, they were gone. My guys were here with me.

I could do this.

There was no stalling now. Electrodes back on, the people I cared for most around me, I closed my eyes.

“Do it, Vi.”

A fist gripped my heart, and then there was darkness.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The darkness was absolute, but only for a moment, and then a light bloomed up ahead, and suddenly, I was moving toward it with no control over my body. Shit. Was this supposed to happen?

Didn’t going into the light mean death?

Who knew when it came to us outliers. This was uncharted terrain.

Had it been a minute yet?

They were going to pull me out after a minute.

The light was a lamppost with a sign jutting out of it. There was a vehicle drawn onto the wooden sign…a bus. A shelter and a bench were stationed on the other side of the lamp, and two figures were already sitting under it. A man and a woman. They were talking animatedly. It was only when I sat down beside them that it was obvious that they were arguing.

“I told you, time and time again,” the woman said. “Two pinches of citra, not three. Now look what you did.”

“Then you should have made it yourself,” the man retorted.

“If I’d known you were about to poison us, then I would have!”

“How many times do I have to say it. I’m sorry, okay? Sorry.”

“You can say it until your face turns blue, it won’t help now.”

There was a rumble, and then a bright purple bus appeared out of nowhere and came to a standstill in front of us.

“Is this it?” the man asked.

“I assume so. Look.” She showed him a piece of paper in her hand. “Didn’t have this before.”

He frowned and looked down at his hands. “I don’t have one.”

The woman’s smile was sad. “Yes, that makes sense. You never finished the soup, did you?” She patted his cheek. “I think you have to go back, luv.”

“What?”

She stood, and he grabbed hold of her hand. “No. We go together. We’re always together.”

The doors to the bus swished open, and she turned to quickly hug the man. “Not this time, Timmy.”

A light bloomed on his back, and then he was whipped away from her. She stood staring off into the distance for a moment and then climbed onto the bus.

Was this my way out of here?

I hurried to the doors and made to step on.

“Whoa!” a gruff male voice said, halting me in my tracks. “Not you.”

I looked up at the driver, a creature so hairy I couldn’t even see his eyes. “Um…why not?”

“You got no ticket.” The doors shut in my face, and the bus whizzed off to be swallowed by darkness.

Shit, what now? I stepped back, and heat bloomed in my chest, sudden and sharp. I gasped, grabbing hold of my torso as the wave of heat came again.

What was this?

Scratch, scratch at the back of my mind.

What was happening? Where was I? I was at a bus stop… I needed to catch a bus.

I turned back to the bench to find it occupied by a guy. He looked young, maybe mid-twenties, but his eyes looked out of place in such a youthful face.

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