Epilogue
R eaper stood over Baston’s unconscious body, his breath slow and even despite the crimson pooling at his feet. He gathered saliva and spat, aiming for the blackguard’s face. The unmistakable scent of blood hung in the salty air of the docks.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon had sold him this blackguard, as agreed upon, leaving Reaper to handle the matter in his own way. He had paid her price without a second thought, knowing that this man—this coward—needed to be dealt with. And his brother, the grumpy Duke of Crane, would never have to dirty his hands with this.
His gaze flicked to the docked ship, and he wiped the dark red stains from his hands with the cloth Bishop handed him. “You took care of his men?”
Bishop nodded. “They believe he is still in the Lyon’s Den.”
“You did well.”
“I did what had to be done,” Bishop sneered. “He doesn’t need his conscience weighed by something that we don’t even blink about.”
Reaper snorted. “Such talk from a butler, man of affairs, or whatever else you call yourself.”
“And what of yourself? Why did you do this for a half-brother you just met?”
Because he is my brother, and an enemy of my brother is an enemy of mine.
It didn’t matter that they were only half-brothers or that they’d never met before this week. Blood ran thicker than brine.
Speaking of which... He scowled at the crimson pool circling the front of his boot.
Shite. Now I must wash my boots.
He wasn’t in the mood.
He nudged the body with that bloody boot. “You shouldn’t have meddled with one of my brothers, Baston.”
A pained grunt.
Reaper grinned, nudging the body again. “Didn’t know I’d care about a brother I never met before?” Another kick. “You were wrong.”
He had always been curious about his mysterious half-brother, who even while a duke, chose to live a life of isolation. Always cautious, always distant. Reaper had wanted to wedge himself into Blake’s life for years, but there had never been an opening. Crane’s wariness of the world had kept Reaper at arm’s length—until now.
Why did he care?
Simply because family mattered more to him than anything. He believed in blood ties, believed in protecting those bound to him by fate, even if they barely knew each other. And Crane, whether he wanted it or not, was part of that family. Baston had crossed a line—one that endangered his brother’s woman.
His sister-in-law. Future one, at least.
And that was unacceptable.
Reaper glanced around, the shadows of the dockyard concealing most of the grim scene from any curious eyes. With a curt nod, his men moved quickly, tossing Baston’s limp body into a large wooden crate and into a waiting cart. The wheels groaned as they secured the load, wrapping it tightly in thick tarpaulins to keep prying eyes at bay.
“He’ll be halfway to China before anyone even notices he’s missing,” one of his men muttered, tipping his cap as he finished fastening the ropes.
Reaper nodded. “Make sure he’s delivered. No mistakes.”
“Aye, boss,” the man said before signaling to the others, and the cart began to roll toward the waiting ship, its creaking wheels mocking Baston’s fate.
Reaper’s lips curled into a humorless smile.
The docks at night were always full of activity—ships coming and going, goods being loaded and unloaded—but no one paid any attention to a single cart rolling toward the waiting ship at the far end of the quay. Reaper knew the captain, a rough man with no scruples, who’d agreed to take Baston and dispose of him properly. The man would be on a one-way trip to the Far East, far from England’s shores and out of his brother’s life forever.
“Are you going to tell Crane what we did?”
Bishop scoffed. “Why would I do that?”
Reaper nodded.
Good.
Blood was blood, but blood didn’t always have to know what the other blood did. They didn’t have to be friends, didn’t even have to like each other, but they were brothers. That was enough for him.
Now, he had to work on thawing that young grump.
Reaper’s grin spread to his eyes.
He looked forward to it.
Enjoy an excerpt from Lie Down With a Lyon by Cerise DeLand !