Her heart pounded so hard, it threatened to bruise her ribs. Elise steadied herself against a nearby table as her vision blurred, and she let out a rough breath to level out her shallow breathing.
“Drink, miss?” asked a server at her elbow.
She waved him off but kept close behind on the path he cleared through the room until she finally caught sight of the figure she’d come here to find.
Karine sat at the edge of a booth just behind a gambling table. A glass of champagne sat between her slender fingers, and she sipped it slowly with one hand while she played with the hair of a young gentleman leaning against her.
Elise approached the table and sat in the empty seat by Karine.
The older reaper turned a surprised look onto her. “Elise Saint. Back from the dead, are you? You must be kept on a leash by that reaper lover of yours,” Karine said in a low voice.
A few people at the table looked around, intrigued, but they continued their game. From the gun imprints along their waists and ribs, Elise knew they were gangsters, but it wouldn’t surprise her if they still had some sense of loyalty toward the Saint name because of their quiet business with her father.
“Layla has no idea I’m here. She did tell me you would be, though,” Elise replied. She spoke loud enough for only Karine to hear her above the ruckus of the party around them.
Karine lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? And, pray tell, how did you manage to outsmart a reaper?”
“She thinks I’m with my father. He was deeply upset by the way things ended at the mayor’s rally. He does not appreciate the way his name is plastered everywhere now that I’m wanted by the police. I knew he would need to be assured that things would be okay, and Layla, of course, knew I had to be the one to tell him that. He hates you, and he is soon to hate the mayor as well. It’s been well-documented what my father does to reapers he hates,” Elise said. She gave the older reaper a cruel smile, remembering just how powerful she had felt when facing Valeriya mere months ago.
Karine swallowed. Her scowl did not let up, but the nervous gleam in her eye and slight quiver of her lip betrayed her tough facade.
“It’s okay to be nervous. I lived under the same roof as him for eighteen years and his temper never got easier to deal with.” Elise pressed a finger to her lips and reached into her pocket to pull out the vial of venom left behind by the rogue reapers. “I won’t lie to you, though. Neither Layla nor I have much experience with rogue reapers. They are, however, unconvinced by your motives. I have half a mind to tell them just how dangerous you are to other reapers and subsequently let my father punish you.”
Karine’s eyes narrowed on the vial and the signature bow that tied it together. “You’re far too involved in a place where you do not need to be.”
Elise tightened her grip on the bottle. “You have made yourwrath everyone’s problem. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t dragged the ones I love into this,” she hissed.
Karine nodded. She lowered her glass and pushed the young man away from her. Two red dots lined his throat, and Elise felt her own bite mark hum with pain as if in response to the sight of his. The older reaper smiled, noticing Layla’s mark on her neck. “I can smell Layla on you. You must enjoy being a patron for her if you can stand being around her for this long.”
Elise’s lips twisted into a frown. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Ma chère, I think I’ll do whatever I want. Your father has brought much ruin to this neighborhood and state,” Karine said. Ice lined her words, and Elise had to fight to roll her eyes at the feigned concern.
“You just got here two months ago. How could you possibly care about Harlem more than me or anyone else who has been here their whole lives?” Elise hissed.
Karine shrugged. “Because I’m French, I cannot care about countries other than my own?”
Elise coughed out a dry laugh. “Not because you’re French, but because you’re an outsider whose only motivation to come here in the first place was because you needed something from us. You have invited nothing but violence into our streets.”
“You wish for peace in Harlem, but you ignore reapers in your pursuit of it. We have been living in hell for longer than you have cared to believe. Reapers deserve liberation from your mortal surveillance at the very least,” Karine said.
Elise’s brows furrowed in concentration. “If I can guarantee you that, you owe me my sister back.”
The reaper studied Elise’s gaze carefully, watching for every minute reaction. “She’s changed, you know. Would you even like the new person she’s become?” Karine asked. The false tenderness in her voice made Elise want to scream.
“I just want her back. In one piece,” Elise ground out.
Karine leaned forward so she could speak more quietly. “Get me the Harlem reaper clan and Josi is yours.”
Elise’s skin prickled at her proximity and the metallic scent of blood still coating her breath. “Do you not already have it?”
“Not with Julius heading the place. Take his life for me, and I’ll return your sister’s intact.” Karine spoke slowly.
Discussing her sister made Elise’s heart pinch with guilt. “Is she okay?” She almost couldn’t get the question out, afraid of how Karine would answer.
The older reaper’s confidence returned in an instant, her eyes lighting up at Elise’s discomfort. “Okay? Depends on how you’d define that word. As a woman who has been a reaper for centuries and seen how powerful we can become, I would say she is more than okay. She is phenomenal. But that’s neither here nor there. I have no control over her or what she does. She looks to me for solace because she has no one else.”
Elise’s heart fell. She swallowed past the emotions threatening to choke her and had to look away briefly to collect herself.
