Hunting the Reaper (Reaped Book 2) by C.A. Rene & R.E. Bond

Author:C.A. Rene & R.E. Bond [Rene, C.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Romance After Dark
Published: 2021-08-16T16:00:00+00:00

Zander

I wake up to the sound of retching, knowing Santos’ big night is back to bite him in the ass. I lie in bed for a while before moving. Darius will be looking after him and I’m not needed.

It’s weird not having Blaze around to maintain control, and I miss that grumpy prick something fierce, but I must admit, it was funny watching Santos last night. I have no idea how Darius keeps up with him, but they’re two peas in a pod and I can’t imagine them being without each other.

I chuckle as I think back to Santos on the bar, waving his fake sword around. That fucker is crazy, and as much as he drives Blaze and I mental regularly, I wouldn’t have him any other way.

I finally climb from the bed and pad down the hallway, peeking into the bathroom to find Santos sitting in front of the toilet with his head in it, while Darius sits back and runs a hand up and down his spine.

Santos violently heaves, and I wince at knowing how his stomach will feel later if he’s heaving like that for long.

I step inside and lean against the wall, meeting Darius’ gaze as he notices me. “Morning. How’s the Captain this morning?”

Santos throws up again, a groan of pain leaving him. “Pretty sure Davy Jones’ locker is awaiting me,” he manages to get out, making me smirk.

“Learned your lesson then?”

“Fuck no,” he mumbles and leans back, getting comfortable between Darius’ legs and pressing his back against his chest to close his eyes.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I ask, managing not to snigger when Santos replies.

“Death.”

Darius absently presses a kiss to his shoulder, and it takes a second for me to process it. They share a bond between them that’s different from what they share with Blaze and me.

They’ve never labeled what they are, just going with what feels right and having each other’s backs.

“Day at home then?” I offer, and Santos nods, wincing with the movement.

“Yeah. Maybe in a few hours we can put a movie on or something. We can just hang out,” he answers, shivering slightly from the cold.

“How about you two get off the cold floor and get dressed. Actually, scratch that. Get Santos in the shower. He smells like stale whiskey,” I retort, causing Santos to groan and lean forward to throw up again.

Darius manages to get him to his feet, stepping into the shower with him to help hold him up. These two are pros at writing themselves off, so I leave them to it and head into the kitchen, knowing everyone will be needing some fucking coffee.

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