The Reaping: Language of the Liar by Angella Graff Page A

reason, and there was no way out.
    Lennox came out a few minutes later, his face drawn, duffle bag slung over his shoulder, and he let out a frustrated growl.  “Briar isn’t coming.  She said it’s beneath her.”
    “Of course it is,” Dash replied, rolling his eyes.  “Doesn’t matter, does it?  We don’t need a Reaper for this one.”
    “Except if what Dorian said is true, they might be on to us.  Trying to beat us to the punch.”
    “Not worried about it.”  Dash gathered up his things, crossed the room and placed a tender kiss on Lennox’s cheek.  “You shouldn’t either.  Besides,” he turned to Dorian who was watching them with narrow eyes, “we’ve got her.  With that charm, she’s very nearly a Reaper and if anything tries to pop though, she’ll be able to see it.  Maybe even give it a nice little push back through the door.”
    Dorian’s face went hot, eyes going wide.  “I’m sorry, what?  I might what ?”
    “That charm,” Dash said, pointing to her hand, “allows you protection from your demon friend, but keeps the spell I put on your wrists active a bit longer than usual.”  When Dorian opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand.  “Trust me, love.  You need that.  And it’s best you can see everything that happens.”
    She swallowed against the lump in her throat, but didn’t argue any further when Dash brushed past her, opening the front door.  The food in her stomach felt like a sack of rocks, sloshing heavy and uncomfortable as they made their way down the stairs.  Rushing through the lobby, Lennox kept directly on her heel, Dash leading the way to their car.  It was much nicer than Dorian expected, a new fuel efficient, electric car, and her surprise was evident on her face.
    “We’re not heathens.  And I appreciate the gas mileage with how expensive it’s got.”  He winked as she climbed into the back seat, and then tossed the bags in next to her.
    The two men climbed in after, Lennox pulling up an address on the car’s GPS, then he looked back at her and offered a smile.  “This is the easy part, trust me.”
    She nodded but said nothing, her gaze fixing out onto the city streets as Dash pulled away from the curb.  Her emotions were all over the place, and she fought off the urge to rip the car door open and bolt.  As her head started to spin, panic bubbling, the bracelet on her wrist gave a sharp twinge and everything swam back into focus.
    When she came to herself, she was leaning back against the seat of the car, her hand on the side of her face, and Lennox was twisted around, staring at her with wide eyes.  “You okay there, lass?”
    Dorian nodded, gulping in a few breaths of air as she tried to calm herself. “Yeah um… not really sure what happened.”
    “He’s fighting you,” Dash replied, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.  “The charm will protect you, but he’s a strong one.  Keep a firm hold on your mind and I promise it’ll be okay.”
    Her hands trembling, she clasped them in her lap and nodded.  There wasn’t anything else she could do.  For now, the mounting panic was gone, but the echoes remained.  If it really was Nic trying to fight her, she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to hold him off.
    Dorian only had a few minutes to worry about it, however.  Their destination was only a few miles away, and within a handful of minutes, Dash pulled in front of a curb and shut the car off.  The neighborhood was just outside the main city, one of those suburban, cookie-cutter housing developments with red-tiled roofs and adobe plaster walls.  The lawns were all manicured, identical to one another.  The only way to distinguish this house from the others was by a string of wrought iron butterflies nailed to the wall beside the front door.
    Letting herself out, Dorian stepped aside as the guys pulled the bags from the backseat.  Dash slammed his on the trunk, ripping open the zipper, and he pulled out a