Free Ride and Reap by Angelique Voisen Page B

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