We entered the cemetery and headed toward the rear of the immense lot. Salazar said Chamuco was hiding out in an old crypt. Talk about macabre. I thought we were dark and intense. This guy actually spent his free time bedding down with corpses. No wonder he chose the name Chamuco.
Reapers loved death and carnage. We lived for the moment when we could reap souls and send them to hell. Our favorite souls were the ones so corrupted, vile, and evil that Lucifer Morningstar himself wanted eternal payment for the deeds committed on Earth.
Chamuco was one of those special circumstances.
We only walked a few more steps when the click of several guns could be heard at once.
“Don’t move any closer.”
“Chamuco,” Grim announced, “We’re here to pay a long overdue visit.”
“I don’t care what you want, gringo.”
“You should. Your choices brought you here.”
“You killed my cousin!” he roared, stepping into the light.
Grim shrugged. “He was trying to rape and kill an ol’ lady. He deserved what he got.”
“You’re going to fucking die!” Chamuco screamed, lifting his gun and aiming right for Grim’s chest.
We already anticipated this and all of us were protected by our Reaper forms. We spread out, taking on each of the men that Chamuco had with him first. They weren’t any match for beings that could call their souls up from their physical bodies and slice them into neat little spiritual ribbons.
That was exactly what we did.
All of Chamuco’s men dropped their weapons at the same time and dropped to their knees. He began shouting in Spanish but they were no longer in control of their own movements. Ten souls stepped from their physical bodies and cowered in front of us.
“Ex?” Grim asked.
“My pleasure.” Ex cracked his knuckles. “I’m hungry.” With a mighty roar, he ripped the souls into pieces with sharp claws, letting them float in the air around us.
The men screamed and convulsed, their fear so real we could almost feel their pain and anguish. Patriot tilted his head back and let out a howl like a fuckin’ werewolf. Sometimes that pain fed his soul in ways that never touched the rest of us. The only other who fed was Hannibal.
Grim ticked his head to Han. “Go for it.”
Hannibal began to gather the chunks that were wreathed in dark shadow. Opening his mouth, his slurped in the parts and shoved them down. Sucking and crunching sounds could be heard at the same time Chamuco’s men cried and begged for mercy, screaming for release. The souls were literally consumed while still connected to their physical forms.
That kind of pain gave me chills. I wanted Chamuco to feel that agony before he died.
Rael and Mammoth watched with dark laughter. The rest of us stared as Chamuco dropped his gun and sank to his knees before Grim.
“Mercy, por favor,” he begged. “You are the real Chamuco. I am only the imposter.”
“Yes, you are,” Grim agreed. “You will pay for your crimes.”
Chamuco blubbered and cried like an infant squalling for dinner. He kept bending down and bowing, sending up prayers in Spanish. Nothing was going to save him now.
“Tell us about Gina and Sasha.” Grim ordered.
“There will be no further collection on their debts. I swear it.”
“Prove it. Call whoever you need to make it happen.”
We watched as he sent orders to his men, speaking to several on the phone with a shaky but determined tone. “No one will come after Gina, her children, or Sasha Pratt. They are protected by my own men now. I swear it.”
Huh. At least something good came out of this worthless shit’s life.
“Bodie?”
I nodded, cracking my knuckles as I walked forward, plunged my fist inside his chest and yanked his heart free. The beating organ pulsed in my hand as he began to quiver and shake. I slowly closed my fist around the warmth, feeling the life energy as it drained away and I began to squeeze. The organ finally popped, spurting crimson fluid all over me and the ground.
I laughed like a mad man and let my brothers take his soul, twisting, tugging, and yanking on it until he was nothing but spirit ash. The ground rumbled beneath our feet as Lucifer welcomed the darkest of souls into his hidden lair.
Chamuco’s screams echoed long after the fissure closed, proof he would suffer in eternal torment.
The blood of my enemy stained my clothes and I felt satisfaction rumble through my chest.
Vengeance . . . was all . . . bloody . . . MINE.
“Sasha, baby, our son is up.”
I rolled to my side, groaning with the lack of sleep. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and yawned.
“Come here.”
I stood up, padding my way across the floor slowly. When I reached Bodie’s side, he hugged my body close, circling both me and Maverick in his loving and secure embrace. He began to move, dancing slowly as he hummed a soft tune and snuggled our son closer.
“I fed him with some of your breastmilk. I figured I’d let you get a few more minutes of sleep.”
“Thanks,” I whispered, laying my head over his heart.
“It didn’t last long.” He laughed lightly as his chest rumbled with the sound. “I woke you up because I needed to hug the two people I loved most in this world.”
“You’re such a smooth talker.”
“I’m serious. I was staring out the window, rocking Maverick and it was so quiet and peaceful that I wanted to share the perfect moment with you too. The three of us.”
I hugged him tighter around the waist as we swayed together, rocking our son, and enjoying the fullness of our hearts. The last two months sped by in a blur but I wouldn’t change them for any amount of money in the world.
