Ride and Reap (7 page)

Kane let out a shaky breath. “I
know. Only someone crazy will chase after a suicide bomber.”

Face turning sober, Reaper wondered
if Kane had started thinking about Harvey Fisher.
 
They no longer needed words. Reaper saw
enough to know how far Fisher pushed Kane. Made into a weapon, with nothing but
anger to fuel his resolve could break most people. Not Kane. Bent, but not
broken.

“Tell me,” Reaper urged.

They put back their clothes on.
Kane shyly cuddled close to him, and started to talk.
 
Reaper saw unloading all the heavy contents
in his heart helped. Between intervals, Reaper scavenged food from Ezra’s
fridge, and encouraged Kane to eat. It felt like a sort of date. They looked
back on the past together. Talked about nonsensical and trivial stuff, and
slowly, Reaper knew a little more about Kane. Not enough, but it was a start.

When Ezra and Revo returned, night
fell, and Kane slept, tucked against Reaper’s shoulder.

“Good news or bad?” Reaper asked
Revo in a quiet voice.

“Unlike your brother, Mace actually
thinks you’re a decent bastard. Viper vouched for you too. Clean this mess up,
Reaper. Then come home,” Revo said.

Ezra came by and examined Reaper’s
work. He nodded at Kane’s bandaged neck, and Revo nudged his mate out.

“Stay as long as you like. Keys are
here.”

Revo slapped the keys on the dining
room table. “Oh yeah. Sweet’s going to stop by.”

Once the pair left, Reaper
grimaced. He owed Sweet an explanation, Sweet was his only blood, and he’d
always placed family first before anything else. They’d traveled dark roads
together. Went into hell and came back out again. Not long ago, Reaper risked
his neck so Sweet could save Phoenix, he would understand why Reaper needed to
do this. Didn’t mean Sweet would make it easy. Sighing, Reaper stretched out
his legs, amused as Kane nestled closer, wrapping his arms tightly around
Reaper’s massive frame.

“Reaper,” Kane murmured in his
sleep. Fuck, did Kane look tempting with his eyes closed. Feeling Kane’s hand
on his abs, Reaper froze when Kane dipped lower, to the hem of his jeans. With
Kane so near, clinging to him, his erection pressed up against his jeans. A low
growl spilled from his lips when Kane’s hand reached his bulge.

“Someone’s hard,” Kane murmured,
lifting his head, half-lidded eyes looking at Reaper. His breathing hitched
when Reaper’s hand closed over his wrist. Thumb pressed against Kane’s pulse,
Reaper smiled as it began to race.

“Tell me, baby. If I yank those
jeans away, is your dick eager and ready for me?” Reaper asked. Squirming, Kane
began to move away, but Reaper held him in an iron grip. “You’re supposed to be
getting some sleep,” Reaper said, letting the disapproval show in his voice.

“How can I, when temptation is so
close by?” Kane sassed back, grinding against Reaper, and Reaper felt the ridge
of Kane’s cock rubbing against his side.
 
“What are you going to do, punish me?”

Kane gasped when Reaper fisted his
hair, and lowered his head gently to his shaft. Eager, Kane licked at him, and
even through the denim Reaper felt the heat of his breath. “Give me.”

Laughing, Reaper tugged at his
hair. “You don’t sound contrite, little human.”

“Contrite? Big words for a biker,”
Kane threw back. To Reaper’s amazement, Kane used his teeth and mouth to
unbutton his jeans and unzip him to reach his cock. Not lacking for guts, Kane
turned his head slightly to look at him. “May I?”

Grinning, Reaper used Kane’s hair
as a handle. As soon as Kane took his glistening tip into his mouth, and began
to sheath his shaft with heat, all reason fled Reaper’s mind. All that mattered
was Kane’s mouth, the muscles of his throat working furiously while he grew
hard and ready. Reaper tightened his hold on Kane’s hair. Understanding his
silent command, Kane gave up his control so Reaper could take over. Balls tight
against his body, Reaper thrust his hips into Kane’s waiting mouth, sliding in
and out, groaning at the slight scrape of Kane’s teeth.

Christ, Kane would drive him crazy.
Once Reaper had a taste, he wanted more. Groaning, every muscle in his body
tense, ready to explode, Reaper didn’t need to give the command. Bursting, he
unloaded into Kane’s mouth. Kane didn’t spill a drop, mouth sucking on his
softening dick. When he looked at Reaper for approval, he startled at Kane’s
expression.

Some of the fuck buddies, the club
whores and rent boys, Reaper occasionally took, always had that look in their
eyes—fear, cleverly concealed. He frightened them, although none of them had
the balls to admit it out loud. Those days were over for Reaper though. Kane
didn’t give a fuck about his reputation. Hell, Kane saw through all his
secrets, and never flinched once.

“Thank you. You’re a fucking good
cocksucker, baby.”

“That’s supposed to be a
compliment?” Kane demanded, raising his head.

“Come on. You need rest.” Reaper
rose, offering his hand. Hesitantly, Kane took it, and let Reaper lead him to
the bedroom. Comfortable in Ezra’s sheets, Reaper automatically reached for
Kane, who happily snuggled beside him, like it was the most natural thing in
the world.

Harsh knocks on the front door
sounded near midnight. Tensing, Reaper untangled himself from Kane, although he
was loathed to part with Kane’s warmth, who surprisingly liked to snuggle
against him, like a needy cat.

“Reaper,” Kane murmured, reaching
out for the empty space Reaper left.

Smiling, Reaper handed over a
pillow for Kane to hug. More insistent raps on the front door echoed from the
front room, but Reaper wasn’t worried. Someone who wanted Kane or he dead
wouldn’t bother with politeness. After shrugging on his jeans, Reaper headed
out, revolver in hand, just in case.

Scenting the other shifter on the
other side of the door, Reaper sighed, tucking the gun in the waistband of his
jeans. He yanked the door open, not surprised to see Sweet glowering at him. A
quick sniff told Reaper Sweet came alone.

“Are you here to cause trouble or
talk?” Reaper asked, not stepping away.

Sweet snorted. “I’m not going to
harm a single hair on your human.”

“You better not, because I don’t
take kindly to my fucking brother harming my mate.”

Sweet blinked at those words, then
swore under his breath. “Fucking hell, Reaper. You gave your would-be killer
your mate mark? That’s beyond dumb.”

Snarling, Reaper reined in his
angry wolf. Typical of Sweet to provoke him, but he knew how to deal with
Sweet. Of course he knew the consequences of his actions, that once mated his
soul and life force was connected to Kane. If Kane or he died, the other
followed. What did Sweet think? That Reaper was a young pup who didn’t think
first, before he acted. There was a truth in that, Reaper supposed, but then
most of the Hellhounds reacted on impulse the moment they scented their mate.
Sweet had been no different. Fuck, did Reaper need to remind Sweet he waged war
on a fucking slaver and his entire army to get Phoenix?

To his surprise, Sweet punched his
shoulder. “I get it, I think. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Fine,” Reaper grunted, letting
Sweet in. Sweet took a good look around.

“Nice digs. Doesn’t scream Revo though.”

Knowing Sweet’s animosity towards
Revo and Ezra, Reaper frowned. “Ezra chose the interior, but don’t you fucking
dare mess anything up.”

Sweet flipped him the finger, but
settled on the couch. “Got anything to drink?”

Reaper walked to Ezra’s fridge,
took a couple of bottles and handed one to Sweet.

“So. What happened?”

He owed Sweet that much, so Reaper
talked. After, Sweet whistled under his breath.

“Fisher, huh? I shouldn’t be
fucking surprised the old bastard’s still alive.”

“The fucker’s tough as nails,”
Reaper agreed.

“Last I heard, Fisher settled in
some compound north of here. Made a nest for himself with humans,
supernatural-haters.” Sweet scoffed, telling Reaper what he thought of that
idea.

Reaper frowned. The T-11 virus, the
cause of the apocalypse, had been initially targeted at the paranormal
community. Instead, the virus rebounded, killed some humans, left a couple
alone, and turned some into monsters. No one knew how or why it reacted that
way. Some of the Hellhounds like Mace, Viper and Spider knew a lot more about
the T-11 project than Reaper did.

Didn’t concern him, but he never
had a liking for groups who kept to themselves. The world ended because of the
feud between humans and paranormals—wasn’t that a lesson enough? Most of the surviving
settlements prized survival. No one gave a shit any longer about species
separation, but Harvey and his little group apparently did.

“It won’t be easy,” Reaper agreed.

“Need some company?” Sweet asked.

His tone remained amused, but
Reaper knew his brother better than most. Concern hovered there, although Sweet
would never admit it. Despite Sweet’s aversion to rules, he always had Reaper’s
back, but this was Reaper’s problem. It would be different, if Sweet had
nothing to lose, but he had Phoenix now.

“No,” Reaper said firmly. “Besides,
you need to be here, and Phoenix’s only getting used to life here.”

Sweet grimaced. Reaper knew he’d
hit a mark. After being kept in captivity for so long, Phoenix had only begun
to adjust to normal life, or what passed for normal in Wolf County. If Sweet
came, Phoenix would insist on tagging along. Reaper had to admit someone who
could conjure fireballs with his bare hands would increase the chances of
victory, but Reaper couldn’t do that to Sweet and Phoenix. Hell, his brother
had faced his own share of hell and suffering to get this far.

“Don’t be a dick,” Sweet said,
still not admitting defeat.

“Stephen,” Reaper said gently,
using Sweet’s birth name. Sweet jerked at that. “Let me deal with this. I need
time alone with Kane.”

Frowning, Sweet considered him.
Most of the Hellhounds would say Sweet would use his claws and teeth, before
his brain, but they were wrong. When it had just been the two of them, before
they were patched into the Hellhounds, it was Sweet’s reason Reaper listened
to. “Are you fucking certain that human won’t slit your throat?”

“Yes,” Reaper said without
hesitation.

Sweet raised an eyebrow,
disbelieving.

Reaper elaborated, “Kane came here
to kill me. That had been his only reason for living, but that’s changed,
because I’m his new purpose.”

Sweet broke out into a laugh. In
other circumstances, Reaper would be pissed, but Sweet’s laugh was unexpected.
“Massacre Reaper, a fucking romantic. Who knew?”

Reaper flinched at the nickname.
Hell, Harvey Fisher gave him that nickname, and it stuck. Reminded him Kane
hadn’t known the full tale. Sharing memories only allowed Kane glimpses, but
there was more to it.

“Be careful. I better not learn
Fisher mounted your head on a spike,” Sweet warned, as Reaper shoved him out
the front door.

“We’ll return,” Reaper promised.

“Reaper, why the fuck can’t you
leave Fisher alone?” Sweet demanded.

“Because he fucked with what’s
mine, and a monster like Fisher needs killing,” Reaper said, showing teeth.
“Besides, Mace won’t take it too kindly.”

Frustrated, Sweet left it alone.

After closing the door behind his
brother, Reaper stood with his back pressed against the front door for a
moment. Sweet made a valid point. Mace might be pissed at Reaper for the
trouble Kane caused, but Mace and his brothers wouldn’t hold a grudge against
him that long. The option to stay, to be a coward seemed tempting.

Reaper jumped when someone knocked
on the door insistently again. Growling, Reaper yanked it open. “Sweet—”

He didn’t finish his sentence. A
fist blurred, catching him off-guard on the side of his jaw. Before Reaper
could recover, a second blow to his ribs made him gasp and sent him reeling
backwards. His vision whirled, gaze focusing on his second visitor of the
night.

“Reaper, you dumb fuck,” Mace
hissed, towering over him. Over his shoulder, Reaper saw Mercy wincing,
shooting him an apologetic look.

Understanding came to him,
lightning quick. Revo mentioned he’d discussed Reaper’s situation with Mace.
Knowing Mace’s temper, Reaper knew their leader wouldn’t take it easy. Hell, it
was understandable Mace would be pissed Reaper took the killer who was about to
blow himself all over town square, taking some of the town residents with him,
as a mate. Revo tried to keep things civilized, or tried to.

Fuck, would Kane wake up because of
all the noise they made? Reaper needed to settle this fast, because if Kane
came out, he’d make things worse and Mace wasn’t known for his mercy.

“Where is the human?” Mace asked,
letting out a warning growl when Reaper firmly planted himself between Mace and
the narrow corridor leading to the bedroom where Kane slept.

Mace grabbed his shirt, and fabric
tore when his fingers partially shifted to claws. He wasn’t kidding around.
Mace’s wolf surged to the surface, demanding obedience from Reaper’s beast. The
tips of Mace’s claws prickled at his skin, drawling blood. When it came to
other matters, Reaper’s wolf obeyed his alpha without question, but Kane was
their mate. The other half they swore to protect, and if necessary, give their
life for.

Reaper answered Mace honestly.
“Kane’s wearing my mark, Mace. Want him dead? End me, then he dies as well.”

Reaper never had any issue with
Mace. Since Sweet always got on Mace’s bad side, Reaper made it a point to stay
out of the alpha’s way, but Kane’s life was at stake. Taking on Mace would mean
defeat. As Alpha, Mace was naturally faster, more powerful. He would tear out
Reaper’s throat without trouble, but Reaper wouldn’t go down like prey. Fuck,
Reaper would go down fighting, clawing for his life.