“I’m reluctantly impressed by your take, mortal,” Death said. “I thought you were only good at thievery.”
With a mean smile, Jack drawled, “Thievery’s the second thing I’m really good at.” He turned to me, all cockiness. “Ain’t that right, bébé?”
Death gripped the hilt of his sword. Jack had no idea how close the knight was to cutting him down.
“Aric, why don’t you go retrieve your other sword?” I mentally added, You made me a promise.
—He courts his own doom.—
Please?
“Empress,” he grated, inclining his head before setting off.
Once Aric was out of earshot, I told Jack, “You don’t have to bait him like that.”
Jack checked behind a door. Then around a corner. “I bait him to let out steam—or I blow.”
“And what if you push him too far?”
“You got this idea of him as invincible. Every man’s got a weakness.”
Matthew had always said Aric’s weakness was me.
“There’s a chink somewhere in the Reaper’s armor. Just need to find it, me.”
Before I could say more, Jack turned toward the stairs.
On the second floor, we investigated nooks and closets. One bedroom was filled with clothes and packs—stolen from slaves—while three other rooms were furnished and spotless. But then, this boss had enjoyed free domestic labor.
“Oh ouais, we’re goan to stay here tonight. The windows up here are nailed, with nothing outside to climb. Decent security.”
“You don’t think more slavers will show up?”
“Non. But just in case, we’ll drag all the bodies around front.” We descended the stairs. “Anybody with a lick of sense will keep goan.”
“Why did you take such a risk earlier? Leaping to the bus?” I hadn’t had a real moment to process his actions. Right now wasn’t the time either, but just like Jack said, I had to let out steam. I stopped on the landing. “When I saw you get shot . . .”
He turned back toward me, curling his forefinger under my chin. “I was fine.”
“Don’t brush this aside.”
“I can take care of myself. And I can protect you just as good as Death can. Provide, too. He only had a head start, non?”
Jack had risked his life to prove a point? Was the chip on his shoulder back?
“That bastard knew the Flash was coming and got his ducks in a row. Just give me time.”
“Don’t risk yourself like that again.”
He dropped his hand at my no-bullshit tone. “I can’t make that promise. We doan know what we might head into.”
“Uh-uh. No. You don’t get to take chances like that anymore. People depend on you. If I sign on with you—and that’s a big if—you promised to earn my trust. You can’t do that if you’re dead. Maybe you do have a death wish?”
He rolled his eyes. “I doan have a—”
“Promise me you won’t take any more unnecessary risks.”
He opened his mouth to argue; must’ve seen I wasn’t having it. “Fine. I promise. Satisfied, you?”
At length, I nodded.
“Then come on. Let’s finish clearing this place.” He led me back downstairs.
Now that we’d closed the exterior doors, the first floor had warmed up, hot air chugging from the vents. In the kitchen, I checked the pantry, found it stocked with canned and boxed goods.
When Aric joined us there, Jack glowered. “Thought you wouldn’t darken our door for a longer spell.”
“Do recall that I possess superhuman speed. I also had time to move all the bodies outside in order to ward off unwanted visitors.” He’d had the same idea as Jack. “After securing the horses, I hastened to get back to my wife.”
“You keep calling her that, but if some fille tried to murder me on my wedding night, I’d think twice about my nuptials.”
Aric’s eyes narrowed.
I got between them. “Shouldn’t we search the rest of the house? The garage is left.”
After a tense moment, Jack started forward. As if by silent agreement, he and Aric kept me in the middle.
When we entered the laundry room, the washing machine was changing cycles. “Why would the boss use so much electricity? With the floodlights and the heater and all these appliances, he’d have to keep generators running full-time.”
“The man probably knows his fuel will turn soon,” Aric said.
“Turn?”
Jack answered, “Gasoline lasts just a year or two.”
“What?” I should have savored electricity more at Death’s!
“It only lasts that long,” Aric said blithely, “unless one had special additives infused into his stores.” To me, he added, “Ours will be preserved for well over fifty years.”
Jack drew up short, turning to face us. “The military’s additives doan extend it more than five years.”
“In the U.S.? I bought the technology from overseas.”
“How many barrels you got?” Jack eyed him so keenly I figured Aric was due for a break-in soon.
“Barrels? None. I have tankers.”
Jack scrubbed his hand over his chin with a hungry look. But there was also a hint of something else—surely not a grudging respect?
Aric gazed down at me. “Your dance studio will always be lit, as will your art studio. The libraries, of course. The pool will be heated as long as we live. Who needs the sun, when we have acres of sunlamps?”