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on a soldering iron and laid it back on the cart next to the knives and the sharp, silver needle-­nose pliers. “I’m hoping I won’t need any of this,” Leo said. “I’m hoping that you’re not like the other hounds, and that you’ll actually listen before you start foaming at the mouth. But if not, I can’t have you running back to your reaper and telling him all about me.”
    â€œGary already knows about you,” I said.
    Leo frowned, tapping the pliers against the palm of his hand. “Beg your pardon?”
    â€œMy reaper. His name is Gary.”
    He threw the pliers back on the tray, and I tried not to flinch at the clank. “That’s kind of disappointing. I was expecting something like . . . I don’t know, Balthazar or Raven or something. ‘Gary’ sounds like an insurance salesman.”
    â€œYeah, he’s a salesman,” I muttered. “And he knows all about what you’re doing here.”
    â€œTell me, Ava.” He sat down in the chair and rolled close, close enough that we could have touched. “What am I doing here?” He smelled hot, like desert wind, tinged with vodka and cigarettes and something else, that dusty stink that warlocks give off.
    â€œMaking deadheads,” I said. “Fucking with the blood suppliers. Beyond that I really don’t care.”
    â€œI hate to tell you, but raising the dead and annoying vampires is hardly a master plan.” Leo snorted. “Gary sics you on someone and you just do as you’re told.” He tested the iron with the pad of his finger.
    â€œIs this the part where you tell me how pathetic I am, being some Hellspawn’s lapdog?” I said. “Because you can save your breath. I know.”
    Leo picked up a pair of rusty scissors and moved around me, cutting away my leather jacket. I growled. “I know a lot of leg breakers, Ava,” he said. “Aside from the Hellspawn blood, you and I do a lot of the same work.” He dropped the leather on the ground and leaned down into my face. His was thin and hard, the sort of face that I’m sure scared the piss out of anyone who got on his bad side. Those eyes, which I’d been stupid enough to think looked warm back in the strip club, were burning now, a dangerous heat that would peel the skin right off you. “Somehow, though, I get the feeling you’ll be more receptive than the other two.”
    â€œWhy?” I said. I wasn’t one to try and talk my way out of things. I wasn’t good at talking. That was a reaper’s job, but my go-­to options of violence and running away were both shot. “What could you possibly want from me?” I asked Leo. “I can’t void contracts, and I’m not going to let you go on about your business here, so you might as well start cutting. I can’t help you.”
    Leo picked up the iron and brought it over to me. The heat made my heart jump, my pulse pounding against my throat. You can get used to pain, but it never gets easier to take.
    â€œI think you can,” he said. “See, my soul is my own, and this Gary keeps you so in the dark you can’t tell me what my business is, so I don’t want either of those things from you, Ava.”
    I blinked at him. “Then what?” I said, hating the fine edge of desperation that had crept into my voice. Leonid Karpov was a scary motherfucker, human or not, and I didn’t relish being vulnerable to him.
    â€œI want to kill your reaper,” Leo said. “And you’re going to help me.”

 
    CHAPTER 7
    I started to laugh. It bubbled out of me unbidden, echoing off the metal walls of the garage. Almost like I was screaming. “You’re funny,” I managed. “Look at you, in your scary hit man suit and your creepy torture chamber. You must be delusional if you think this’ll end any way but with you on a one-­way ride to