Reaper Read Online Free Page B

seen her relax into this stance before; it allowed for a fluid, viper-fast movement to the left or right with only a slight shift in weight. “But rest assured, he is avenged.”
    “This is good,” Piotr said and looked to the Walker. “Did you arrive in time to hear our talk?”
    Elle snorted, rising so that her skirt once again covered more of her thigh. “Yeah, but why are you bothered about beatin’ your gums at this one, Petey? What's the point? He's all balled up.”
    Now that she wasn't as exposed and vulnerable, the Walker chuckled and turned its face away from Elle. Slightly between them, Piotr relaxed.
    “The flesh speaks in riddles. Always the talky-talky.” The Walker flapped his fingers in a quacking motion. “Either do for me as you did before or let me walk, flesh. I live on short-time, the dawn comes.”
    “Ol’ white and creepy here's right. We oughta stop futzing around and bump off the hood already.” Elle rested one fist on her hip and leered darkly at the Walker. Then she glanced at Piotr and groaned, irritated. “Jeepers creepers! I know that look.”
    Lily, peeking at Piotr, sighed and relaxed her pose. The entire set of her body radiated disapproval. “As do I. Piotr, you do not wish us to finish this beast off? Why? What use does this abomination hold for you?”
    “Patience,” Piotr cautioned mildly, picking up the hilt of his shattered knife from the ground. “Something he said earlier struck me. He was asking about the Lightbringer. Then he suggested that he'd been sent by others. That he was, perhaps, taking the orders?”
    Lily frowned. “Sent by others? Surely, I do not comprehend. The White Lady has been dispatched. Who is there to send such as these after you?”
    “That's what I'm wondering. What genius would send this dewdropper to give ol’ Petey the bum's rush?” Elle narrowed her eyes at the Walker and, shoving Piotr over, waved her knife beneath the Walker's neck. “Come on, palooka. Talk and maybe we'll just take your teeth instead of your whole head.”
    “She speaks true. This is your last chance at salvation, beast,” Lily agreed coldly, striding up to the Walker and holding the point of her dagger to his left eye. “Speak what you know and by Piotr's willing grace we shall allow you to continue with your poisonous ways. This time. Speak not and I promise the sting of my knives shall be but the first pain you feel tonight.”
    The Walker seemed to take her seriously. It hesitated and then shrugged. “Flesh is…persuasive. Perhaps it is the poison it coats over this blade.”
    Piotr glanced sharply at Lily. Poison? This was new. He made a mental note to ask her about it later.
    The Walker, holding one bony hand outward in a gesture of peace, dug through its robe with the other until it found what it was looking for. He passed the object, a small sheet of tightly folded paper, to Lily and stepped back, putting plenty of space between her daggers and his face. Elle took the sheet from Lily's hand and unfolded it.
    “Oh Petey,” she whispered. “Have they got the goods on you.” She held up the paper and Piotr was stunned silent when it turned out to be a sketch of his own face staring back at him. It was clumsily made, true, but he recognized the hand that'd done it. One of his Lost, Pandora, had been a budding artist and had been fond of drawing anyone who'd sit still long enough for her to capture the essence of their features. Piotr had often been a subject.
    Piotr turned away, choked up. Dora was gone, obliterated in the same explosion that had put Wendy in the hospital and destroyed the White Lady. Seeing her art in such an unexpected way was like a punch to the throat…and heart.
    “Those on Nob Hill send their greetings,” the Walker said and, before Lily could react, slashed outward with sharpened fingertips. Yelling, Lily fell back. Elle, several feet away, spun on her heel to take the Walker on, but the creature fled through the closest thin