The Reaper's Embrace by Abigail Baker

Author:Abigail Baker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Entangled; Select Otherworld; paranormal; paranormal romance; pnr; Reaper; Grim reaper; trilogy; tattoos; Tortured hero; tortured heroine; star-crossed lovers
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2017-04-14T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

“Dogs are better than human beings because they know but do not tell.”

—Emily Dickinson

I was pleased to find that the motorbike I had left discarded on the mountainside when we entered Xiangu’s territory was still there, covered in road dust and pine needles. I was even happier not to see Trivials congregated around it, waiting to give us trouble once we emerged. But where were they? Did they live nearby? Were they camping? They had seemed hell-bent on keeping a close eye on us that their absence now was odd. Surely one of them would’ve been waiting to alert the others if we came out of hiding.

There wasn’t time to worry, however. Wherever they were, they weren’t here, getting in our way.

“Ready to ride with me?” After I secured Dudley into the tank bag, I patted the backseat of my two-wheeled steed, wearing a deliberately crooked smile. Brent’s disgust with having to drive that unsavory Mary Kay pink Porsche back in Quebec was at the forefront of my mind. He would prove to be a changed Reaper if he hopped on the back of my ride without complaint. But he would ride on the back. We wouldn’t leave until he agreed to it.

Brent was stubborn, but I was the true mule in this relationship.

“My ass won’t fit on that little seat,” he said, giving the backseat unwarranted scorn. “But your cute one will.”

As he tried to pilfer my bike, intent on my backside riding on the rear as he maneuvered it through the mountain passes, I stopped him.

“My bike. My rules.” I gripped the handlebars. In case he needed more to show that this was non-negotiable, I swung my left leg over the seat and settled into the rider’s position. I gave Dudley a scratch on the head. “Dudley never argues about his position on the bike.”

“Dudley eats poop.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“He does not!”

“I saw him do it. Must be like little donuts to him.”

“You’re telling lies.”

“Why would I lie about your dog eating poop?”

As an Eidolon nearly a foot taller than me, Brent might have coerced me into giving in to him in years past. Not today.

I patted the backseat and grinned. “Hop on. I promise I won’t go too fast.”

He groaned, but the important thing was that he climbed onto the bike and slipped his arms around my waist for security. Having Brent curled around me like a koala bear latched to a tree trunk, I couldn’t help but be happy. I could get used to having him this close as I guided us into unknown places. There were so many secret, less-traveled roads in the remote places of the world that deserved exploring. How nice it would’ve been to discover them on two wheels and leather and all with him. Well, and Dudley, the dung eater.

“Did you really see Duds eat poop?” I had to know. Was this a habit I’d need to correct?

“I might’ve.”

So he is going to be coy now,

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