Your dead are our business.
Got a loved one who’s passed? Want to ask your dead aunt where she hid that elusive will? Head over to Necro city and look no further than Soul Savers Inc.
One day the world was normal, and the next, it was filled with ghosts. And then the reapers came. Blood-sucking hot dudes with wings and wicked scythes. They took control, and now we have a system.
Now we have Necro city, the hub of all things untethered.
As a soul relocation agent, it’s my job to rehouse the dead until the reapers come to collect, but with so few of those dudes about, the wait isn’t pretty. Thank goodness for decent coffee, frosted donuts, and a pending promotion.
Things are looking good until they’re not.
One bar fight and a dead reaper later, I’m left holding the scythe.
Not just any scythe, but a scythe belonging to one of Lilith’s four favored sons—the most powerful reapers in the world.
For some reason, it’s chosen me.
Now, three very large, very pissed off reapers are on my case.
It looks like that promotion is going to have to wait.
Mal’s smirk was cruel and cutting. “So, you’re the new reaper. The one who took Peiter’s scythe.”
He said it like an accusation. Like I’d pried the scythe from a dying Peiter’s hand.
My ire rose. “I didn’t take it. It was given to me.”
He stood and looked down at me, and I noticed his state of partial undress for the first time. His shirt was open, exposing way too much naked taut flesh, and his joggers were hung too low, revealing the tantalizing V at his hips. He had the kind of body that made you want to slip and slide against it. The kind of body you know would fit just right between your thighs.
“Fucking hell, she’s checking me out.” He chuckled softly. “At least we know she has taste.”
I bit the insides of my cheeks and glared up at him. “Not checking you out. Just wondering how your pants are defying gravity.”
He leaned in, and his fresh citrus scent tickled my senses. “You wish they’d fail, don’t you?”
His voice echoed through my head. “You wish you could touch me. Taste me.”
Oh, fuck. Yes. Yes, I wanted to lick that V and—
“Mal!” Conah snapped. “Stop fucking around.”
Mal stood with a snort, and his expression morphed from seductive to icy again. “This is what we have to work with?”
What the fuck had just happened. My cheeks burned, and my body was thrumming with desire. I blinked to clear my head and focused on this Mal guy.
“We’re saddled with this?” He jerked a thumb my way.
I sat up and glared at the emerald-eyed twit. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Mal, please.” Conah sounded fed up.
Mal rolled his eyes dismissively and turned to Conah. “Have you looked at her? I mean, aside from the pretty face. Those hips and that ass are made for the bedroom, not for chasing down mouths, or in most cases, running away from them. She won’t last a minute out there on the beat.”
Wait, had he just called me a fat ass?
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