Free Reaper by K. D. Mcentire

friendship with the Lightbringer is any of your business.”
    Leaning over until he was sure Piotr could see him, Frank shook his head. “Ah, son, I get you, but you see it really is my business. My business and her business,” he gestured to Lily, “her business,” he pointed to Elle, “and their business.” Sitting back, he waved a hand at the press of people partying on the level below. “It's all of our business, son.”
    Piotr pushed back from the table. “I'm leaving.”
    “Not so fast, not so fast. Hear me out.” Frank waved a conciliatory hand. “Let me explain, and if you're still feeling partial to taking a hike, I won't try to stop you.”
    “You couldn't,” Elle retorted, suddenly stone cold sober, “since me an’ Lily got his back.”
    “You have his back. Who has yours?” Frank glanced left and right and shadowy figures that had been hidden amid the throng shifted forward. Stomach sinking, Piotr realized that even if they were able to get past these subtle fighters, they wouldn't be able to easily escape. The barely-clad woman and the holy man lounged with arms crossed in front of the closest exits; long, sharp blades were clearly visible in ready fists. The camo-dressed soldier had the next set of doors covered as well.
    Piotr scowled. They'd sent Elle up early to scout for this sort of thing, but Frank was better than they'd given him credit for. Piotr had a sneaking suspicion that Frank's verbal mistake earlier had been a ploy to keep them seated and talking so they could be surrounded. Every exit on this floor was covered and the doors, replaced within the past few decades, were the only spiritually weak spots of the rooftop bar. All the rest was solid even in the Never—they were trapped here at Frank's whim, unable to pass through the walls for a quick getaway.
    “Fine.” Piotr sat back down and scowled at Frank. “Let us speak of the Lightbringer. You begin.”
    Frank chuckled. “That little dolly of yours sure knows how to blow our jets, doesn't she? Here we are, minding our own business, and her mother's hardly in the ground before she starts rattling my cage. Not even a by-your-leave. That's gratitude for you, huh? Her mother, now…Mary was a classy lady, a solid straw boss.”
    “You knew the White Lady?” Elle stiffened.
    Frank scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Not personally, no. By the time Mary was calling herself the ‘White Lady’ I was having no truck with her. But before?” He grinned. “Sure enough. For a broad, Mary was completely pulled together, you dig? We had an arrangement.”
    “I disbelieve,” Piotr said dryly.
    “Believe it. The Council kept all the regular-joe spirits out of her way and pumped full of the will to keep going—off the streets and cookin’ at the bash, in other words—so Mary didn't have to fuss with all that nasty reaping.” Frank waved a hand at the crush below. “In exchange, Mary kept our neck of the woods free of Walkers and came ’round twice a month to clean up those poor souls who'd given in or given up, who'd become Shades. Boss, right? Good deal all around.”
    “Reaping is the duty of the Lightbringer,” Lily said stiffly, crossing her legs and eying Frank's backup closely as she looked around the room. Piotr had the sense that the instant one of them approached, they'd become fast acquaintances with her fists. Lily might be deadly with her daggers, but in their decades together James had taught her more than a thing or two about hand-to-hand. “That the White Lady would renege upon her solemn duty—allowing the likes of the Council to police this area of town in her stead—is truly reprehensible.”
    “Don't get your panties in a twist, girlie,” Frank said smoothly. “Keep in mind that there's a difference between the crazy broad who called herself the White Lady and Mary, the Lightbringer's momma. Mary, now? Mary wasn't reneging nothing. Mary just had her hands full doing other, more important things. For