Free Dead Reaper Walking by Mina Carter Page A

“Why, Detective Regan, are you telling me I should have lied?”
    John chuckled, quickly smothering the sound when Troy turned the glare on him, giving me a moment’s respite.
    “Annnnnd, that’s my cue to leave. Need to lose a few pounds so I’m gonna take a walk back to the station.” John pushed past Troy, waving at me over his shoulder. “Have fun, kiddies. Try not to kill one another, ‘kay?”
    “Given one of us is the physical embodiment of death,” Troy snarled, “no promises on that one.”
    John shook his head and with that, he was gone, striding off down the street. Troy turned his attention back to me.
    “Not lie, not exactly.” He took a step toward, frustration etched into his features. “Just don’t tell the damn parents you’ll deliver them a dead body.”
    Okay, even I admit, put like that I sounded like a grade-A asshole.
    “It’s not like that with us. With paranormals,” I argued, “we don’t sugarcoat the truth or bullshit like humans do.”
    “Oh, that’s it, play the species card.” Anger replaced the frustration on his face. He took a breath and I saw the struggle reflected in his eyes. He closed them for a moment, then sighed heavily. The whole process fascinated me. Human emotion played out on a stage of one man’s face.
    Until he opened his eyes and looked at me, gaze hard. Piercing. The expression in them made me shiver, and not in a good way.
    “So, from what you’ve said before, when a lifeline goes active, you track it to the body?”
    I kept my answer limited to a nod. The tension between us hadn’t disappeared, just altered, and right about now, I wasn’t sure what game Troy was playing. The energy emanating from him, I checked his lifeline again. Still human. Was it my imagination or was it flatter and duller than it had been?
    He stepped forward, until we were barely inches apart. He loomed over me but I didn’t back down. I’m a badass reaper after all, we ain’t scared of no one and nothing. Not even demons. I looked him right in the eye.
    “And you said in there that you can identify an inactive lifeline…” He paused, running his thumb against his chin. Normally I’d want to kiss in its wake, but I had the feeling I was being outmaneuvered. “So putting the two together, it’s logical to assume you could have tracked Tiffany from the word go, couldn’t you?”
    And boom, there it was. Shit. Trust Troy to put it all together.
    “Maybe. But it doesn’t work like that.”
    “What do you mean? How else would it work?”
    There was no way I was backing down, and from the look on Troy’s face, neither was he. So I was going to have to answer. Fuck.
    “It’s not my job.” Okay, out there in the open. No secrets. “Yes, I could pick up and trace a lifeline back to its body, but why would I? Until they make the decision that puts them on my radar, I have no reason to go looking.”
    He blinked. A slow descent of the lids over his eyes, one I could almost hear before he opened them again.
    “ It’s not your job .” His voice was tight, angry, but unlike before, it wasn’t sexy. It wasn’t the fiery anger I could turn to passion. No, this was white hot fury that would burn me if I so much as touched it.
    The sensible thing would have been to say something to calm him, particularly as he was the one carrying a gun. Did I? Hell, I’m not that sensible. Not when pissed off.
    “Reaper, buddy. As in death. Dead or dying, but mostly dead. As in not alive. What part of that don’t you fucking well understand?”
    “Understand?” His lips curled into a sneer. “Oh, I understand all right. Basically you’re telling me you could’ve saved lives but didn’t. Because it’s not your job.”
    I opened my mouth to explain. How I couldn’t track one, because then I’d have to track them all. And I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t save them all. I’d drive myself mad chasing lifelines and changing their futures. So I didn’t. But he didn’t give me