Chapter 15
“The greater the power, the more dangerous the abuse.”
—EDMUND BURKE
B y the next morning, the shiner from the night before was really coming in. I needed to cake on the makeup to hide it, but I still thought it was totally worth it. I really hoped Death gave that asshole what he deserved.
I got to Voodoo for Evan’s shift and found Shem was working opening shift too.
“Hey, Lil, I didn’t know you were working today,” he said. He was sucking on one of the lollipops we gave out to guests while he wiped down the heavy black dinner menus at the hostess stand.
I scowled at him. “You can thank your new best friend for that,” I grumbled. I had really been looking forward to spending the day watching spooky shows with Chaos. Now, thanks to fucking Reaver, I was working a shitty Monday night. I probably wouldn’t make any money, and even if I did, he would probably take it from me and make me ‘ earn it back.’ Fuck my life.
Shem just gave me a confused look, and I went to work setting up the bar. I turned the TVs on and flipped to the news. A part of me was wondering if I would see either John or Reaver on the highlights, but I always did have the worst luck. Neither of them appeared in the headlines, and Reaver showed up for his scheduled shift .
I glared at him, and he gave me a cool look back. Shem appeared at service and smiled at us both.
“It’s like a fucking icebox over here. The two of you need to lighten up.”
Reaver smirked at him and leaned back against the liquor display. “Hear that, Lilith? Shem wants you to smile.” He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. Shem was glancing back and forth between us, amused.
I knew Reaver was basically ordering me to smile, and it fucking broke a piece of my soul to obey. I forced a smile to my face, one that I’m sure didn’t look genuine at all, and Reaver huffed a laugh.
Much to my surprise, once the bar opened, we fell into a relatively amicable groove. Reaver was still far too bossy and was clearly giving me orders simply because it amused him to watch me obey, but overall, he was much less annoying than when I first met him. He actually took over and handled the guests at the wood, letting me have the service bar.
I could feel his eyes on me the whole night while I made drinks, but every time I glanced back at him, he was either glaring at me or talking to a guest at the bar. I just couldn’t figure him out at all. What was his end game? Did he just like having power over me? Probably. Isn’t that what psychopaths were all about? Power and control?
And why hadn’t Death killed him yet? He had basically laid down on top of me the day before, he drove me home, and he rubbed Arnica into my face. I had thought for sure he would be dead already…unless…
Unless Death knew how much I hated him and liked that Reaver was torturing me. My demon loved it when I was miserable. He was probably eating this the fuck up.
Fuck me .
With that cheerful thought in mind, I turned to respond to the sound of the chit machine when I saw two uniformed officers walk in the front doors.
I felt the blood drain from my face, and my heart stopped in my chest.
Calm down, Lilith, they’re not here for you. They’re just here to grab a bite… in their uniforms… at a steakhouse… FUCK!
I felt short of breath and started to shake. Suddenly, Reaver was next to me. He slid his hand softly around my waist, and I jumped at the unexpected contact. He leaned into me and pressed his lips against my ear, his hot spearmint breath sending a shiver down my spine.
“Breathe, deathtrap. I’ll handle it,” he murmured as the officers made a beeline for the bar. I watched as Reaver stepped forward to greet them.
“Hello, officers. What can I do for you?” he asked smoothly. He picked up a rocks glass from the dishwasher and began to casually towel it dry .
“We’re looking for a Ms. Lilith Cortland,” the first officer said. His mustache and short brown hair gave him a clean-cut, ‘do things by the book’ sort of vibe. I got the impression he wasn’t the type to bend the rules or make exceptions for people.
“I’m Lilith Cortland,” I said reflexively, stepping forward. Reaver shot me an angry glare.
“I said I would handle it, deathtrap. Be fucking quiet,” he snapped, and I frowned at him, confused. Why was he acting like he wanted to help me? Why would he think I would trust him at all?
“We’re going to need you to come with us, Ms. Cortland,” the second cop said. This one was blond. My heart was slamming in my chest. What was this about? Sam?
“Um, okay. Just let me get my stuff,” I muttered and moved to duck out from behind the bar. Everyone was starting to stare, and my cheeks were burning. This was fucking humiliating. Reaver’s hand shot out and closed around my wrist. He jerked me back into him and wrapped his arm possessively around my waist, holding me firmly against his side. I glanced up at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was glaring at the police.
“What is this about?” he asked calmly.
“Unfortunately, sir, that is none of your concern. Ms. Cortland, please come with us.”
“Ask them what this is about,” Reaver barked at me. He tightened his grip on my waist. I flinched as his gaze snapped to me. “Now is not the time to be a brat, Lilith. Do as you’re told.”
Cringing and feeling absolutely fucking humiliated, I conceded.
“Um… What is this about, officers?” The two cops glared at Reaver but answered me.
“We just want to ask you some questions about your relationship with Sam Thornberry. We need to take you to the station for questioning.”
I felt like I was going to pass out. I swayed on my feet, and Reaver tightened his grip on my waist to keep me from falling.
“Do you have a summons? A warrant? Is she under arrest?” Reaver asked, his voice dead calm. Both cops glared at him, but they didn’t reply right away. Reaver raised an eyebrow and waited patiently. I held my breath, glancing back and forth between the tattooed asshole and the clean-cut cops. What in the actual fuck was happening right now?
“No, she’s not under arrest. We just want to ask her some questions.” Mustache finally caved.
“I see. Come back with a summons or a warrant,” Reaver said, his voice so authoritative you would have thought he was the cop. “Until then, Lilith will not be going anywhere. ”
The police officers narrowed their eyes at Reaver, but he just stared them down with that dangerous little grin playing on his lips.
“We’ll be back,” Blondie said. “Let’s go, Tom.” He nudged Mustache, and they both turned to leave.
I let out the breath I was holding, and suddenly, my knees gave out. Reaver caught me effortlessly and held me up by my shoulders. He turned me to face him, his expression serious.
“You’re alright, deathtrap. I would say you did great, but you don’t fucking listen, do you? Fuck sakes.” He glanced up and snapped his fingers at Shem, who slinked over to the bar with an eyebrow raised. Reaver passed me over to Shem like I was a doll.
“Take her to the back to get changed,” Reaver said, dismissing us as he snatched a chit out of the service machine. Shem nodded and started to lead me away.
“Wait, what about the rest of my shift?” I asked. Rafael wouldn’t be happy if I left early. Reaver didn’t even look up from what he was doing.
“You’re done for the night, Lilith. Come sit at my wood, I’ll make you a Bellini.”
Before I could respond, Shem ushered me into the back, ruffling my hair as we went.
“Who knew you were such a badass, Lil? That was the most exciting shit to happen all week. Well, I guess if you don’t count Sam getting murdered,” he said thoughtfully. I was still too shaken up to even be angry at him for the crass way he referenced Sam’s death.
Sometimes, I wondered if Shem thought the rest of the world existed solely for his entertainment. He certainly acted like it did.
Shem waited for me to get changed and led me back to the bar. I sat at Reaver’s wood, still feeling shaky and frightened.
“I’ll come sit with you in a bit. I’m almost done too,” Shem said with a smile, and I frowned. This really wasn’t a good idea. I shouldn’t be letting anyone get too close to me. You would think I’d learned my lesson after what had happened to Sam, but I was so shaken up I couldn’t do anything but nod.
As promised, Reaver dropped one of Voodoo’s signature frozen Blood Orange Hauntini’s in front of me and leaned against the bar.
“Next time I tell you I have it handled, keep your fucking mouth shut,” he said, though there wasn’t as much bite to his tone as usual. “I can’t believe you tried to leave with them. Don’t you know your rights at all?”
I stared at him wide-eyed and shook my head. “I guess not. I thought if they told you to go with them, you had to just listen and go. ”
“Oh, deathtrap. You have so much to learn,” he sighed, standing up. “Drink your drink,” he ordered before sliding away to serve some other guests who had come to sit at the bar.
I sipped my Bloody Hauntini and had to admit, he had made it fucking perfect. I was enjoying my beverage when Rafael approached, raising an eyebrow at me being in my civvies and sitting at the bar so early. I guess it was strange for me to be at the bar at all. I never stayed after work.
“I didn’t cut you. What are you doing out of uniform?” he asked sternly, just as Reaver came back over.
“It’s dead tonight, I told her she could punch out,” he replied nonchalantly. Rafael glared at him, but Reaver just smirked. Finally, Raf dropped it and turned back to me.
“Have you been working with him on the cocktail menu?” he asked me, and my mouth fell open. I didn’t know how to explain that I hadn’t had a chance to train him because he was blackmailing me and making me pick up shifts left, right, and center.
“We’re working on it tomorrow. We’re both off,” Reaver answered for me as he mixed a martini. I watched him free-pour gin and vermouth into a mixer without bothering to look at what he was doing and wondered if he needed any training at all.
Rafael seemed pleased with this answer and left me to happily sip on my drink. I was in a much better mood, and I suspected it was the drink Reaver had made me that was causing me to feel all warm and tingly.
Reaver finished his chit and came to lean across from me again.
“How’s the drink?” he asked, and I gave him a hesitant smile.
“Really good, actually,” I replied quietly, and the corner of his mouth twitched up.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“So… you’re actually letting me have a day off tomorrow?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t change his mind and somehow make me work someone else’s shift.
He smirked at me and nodded. “Well, kind of. We’ll meet here in the morning to do all the stupid shit Raf wants us to do so you don’t get in trouble. Then I guess I’ll let you take the afternoon off.”
“How kind of you.” I rolled my eyes, and he raised an eyebrow, though the side of his mouth was still curled at the corner.
“Careful, deathtrap,” he warned, just as Shem slid into the chair next to me.
“Barkeep!” he shouted jovially. “One raunchy fucking margarita, please, on the rocks!”
Reaver grinned at him and shook his head before going to make his drink. Shem spun to face me, giving me a wink .
“So, tell me everything, Lil. Are you a woman on the lam? How many have you killed? Did you rob a bank?” he asked, his eyes shining with mirth and mischief.
I just laughed and took another sip of my Hauntini. Shem somehow had a way of making even serious situations seem light and manageable. Sitting with him at the bar while Reaver served us drinks made me feel like I was normal for the first time in my life. Part of me was holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. However, a small part of me was warm, happy, and hopeful that maybe, just maybe, Death would let me have this one small piece of happiness.