BIANCA BARRED US FROM the kitchen, telling us to relax awhile. Fatigue built up in my body; between the disaster at the warehouses, building the cases for the reaping panes and training, dealing with Luca, and worrying about Oliver, I’d almost hit my limit for one night. While the boys turned on ...
CALL IT REAPER’S INSOMNIA, but the dead wouldn’t let me sleep at night. Every time the sun went down, I swore I sensed them stirring, starving. Killing. Tonight was no different. As the boys and I pulled up to St. Mary’s Hospital, the scene seized and held my nerves at knife-point. The hospital’s...