“The greater the power, the more dangerous the abuse.”
—EDMUND BURKE
By the next morning, the shiner from the night before was really coming in. I needed to cake on the makeup to hide it, but I still thought it was totally worth it. I really hoped Death gave that asshole what he deserved.
I got to Voodoo for Evan’s shift and found Shem was working opening shift too.
“Hey, Lil, I didn’t know you were working today,” he said. He was sucking on one of the lollipops we gave out to guests while he wiped down the heavy black dinner menus at the hostess stand.
I scowled at him. “You can thank your new best friend for that,” I grumbled. I had really been looking forward to spending the day watching spooky shows with Chaos. Now, thanks to fucking Reaver, I was working a shitty Monday night. I probably wouldn’t make any money, and even if I did, he would probably take it from me and make me ‘earn it back.’Fuck my life.
Shem just gave me a confused look, and I went to work setting up the bar. I turned the TVs on and flipped to the news. A part of me was wondering if I would see either John or Reaver on the highlights, but I always did have the worst luck. Neither of them appeared in the headlines, and Reaver showed up for his scheduled shift.
I glared at him, and he gave me a cool look back. Shem appeared at service and smiled at us both.
“It’s like a fucking icebox over here. The two of you need to lighten up.”
Reaver smirked at him and leaned back against the liquor display. “Hear that, Lilith? Shem wants you to smile.” He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. Shem was glancing back and forth between us, amused.
I knew Reaver was basically ordering me to smile, and it fucking broke a piece of my soul to obey. I forced a smile to my face, one that I’m sure didn’t look genuine at all, and Reaver huffed a laugh.
Much to my surprise, once the bar opened, we fell into a relatively amicable groove. Reaver was still far too bossy and was clearly giving me orders simply because it amused him to watch me obey, but overall, he was much less annoying than when I first met him. He actually took over and handled the guests at the wood, letting me have the service bar.
I could feel his eyes on me the whole night while I made drinks, but every time I glanced back at him, he was either glaring at me or talking to a guest at the bar. I just couldn’t figure him out at all. What was his end game? Did he just like having power over me? Probably. Isn’t that what psychopaths were all about? Power and control?
And why hadn’t Death killed him yet? He had basically laid down on top of me the day before, he drove me home, and he rubbed Arnica into my face. I had thought for sure he would be dead already…unless…
Unless Death knew how much I hated him and liked that Reaver was torturing me. My demon loved it when I was miserable. He was probably eating this the fuck up.
Fuckme.
With that cheerful thought in mind, I turned to respond to the sound of the chit machine when I saw two uniformed officers walk in the front doors.
I felt the blood drain from my face, and my heart stopped in my chest.
Calm down, Lilith, they’re not here for you. They’re just here to grab a bite… in their uniforms… at a steakhouse… FUCK!
I felt short of breath and started to shake. Suddenly, Reaver was next to me. He slid his hand softly around my waist, and I jumped at the unexpected contact. He leaned into me and pressed his lips against my ear, his hot spearmint breath sending a shiver down my spine.
“Breathe, deathtrap. I’ll handle it,” he murmured as the officers made a beeline for the bar. I watched as Reaver stepped forward to greet them.
“Hello, officers. What can I do for you?” he asked smoothly. He picked up a rocks glass from the dishwasher and began to casually towel it dry.
“We’re looking for a Ms. Lilith Cortland,” the first officer said. His mustache and short brown hair gave him a clean-cut,‘do things by the book’sort of vibe. I got the impression he wasn’t the type to bend the rules or make exceptions for people.
“I’m Lilith Cortland,” I said reflexively, stepping forward. Reaver shot me an angry glare.
“I said I would handle it, deathtrap. Be fucking quiet,” he snapped, and I frowned at him, confused. Why was he acting like he wanted tohelpme? Why would he think I would trust him at all?
“We’re going to need you to come with us, Ms. Cortland,” the second cop said. This one was blond. My heart was slamming in my chest. What was this about? Sam?
“Um, okay. Just let me get my stuff,” I muttered and moved to duck out from behind the bar. Everyone was starting to stare, and my cheeks were burning. This was fucking humiliating. Reaver’s hand shot out and closed around my wrist. He jerked me back into him and wrapped his arm possessively around my waist, holding me firmly against his side. I glanced up at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was glaring at the police.
“What is this about?” he asked calmly.
“Unfortunately, sir, that is none of your concern. Ms. Cortland, please come with us.”
“Ask them what this is about,” Reaver barked at me. He tightened his grip on my waist. I flinched as his gaze snapped to me. “Now is not the time to be a brat, Lilith. Do as you’re told.”
