Riot proved that her earlier demonstration of foul language had only been a warm-up. She described an act so physically appalling and improbable that even Benny winced—and he appreciated this kind of thing. Several of the reapers blanched and fingered their knives.
“You prove your worthlessness with every breath.” Brother Peter dismissed Riot with a casual wave of his hand and turned his focus back to Benny. “Make your choice, little brother. You can walk away, unharmed, untouched, alive if you give me what does not belong to you. Return what you took from my reaper, and hand over the bag you stole from the dead.”
Benny looked at him, at the other reapers, and at the vast, unforgiving world around them as if it was able to offer answers to the madness of the moment. He held his sword with one hand and touched the strap of the satchel.
“Give me the bag,” said Brother Peter in a voice that was eerily calm. He could have been commenting on the weather. “Give it to me and live.”
“It’s a trick,” said Riot. “Don’t do it.”
“Benny, you can’t,” said Nix.
Benny smiled.
“Sure,” he said.
46
“WHAT?”
Nix, Riot, and Brother Peter all said it at the same time.
Benny shrugged and lowered his sword. He slid the bag off his shoulder and held it out. “I said, sure. Take it.”
Brother Peter studied him with suspicious eyes. “It would be unwise to try a fast one, little brother, I’ll—”
“I know. Red mouths, tongues cut out. What is it with you guys and threats? You need to work on your people skills.”
Everyone was staring at Benny. He smiled and swung the bag back and forth. His heart thumped like a crazy monkey, but he was sure he was managing a pretty good reckless smile. It hurt his face to keep it in place.
Brother Peter snapped his fingers, and one of the Red Brothers dismounted and stepped forward to take the bag. Nix shifted the pistol toward him, and the reaper stopped.
“If he takes another step,” said Benny, “she’ll blow his head off and then she’ll shoot you.”
The reaper threw a questioning glance at Brother Peter, who gestured for him to remain where he was. Instead he dismounted and held his hand out to Benny.
“The bag,” he said.
Benny wondered if there was even the slightest chance that Brother Peter was not going to kill him the moment he handed over the bag. Riot said that the reaper had a dozen knives hidden in special pockets and that he could draw and cut faster than lightning. She’d seen him do it too many times.
So Benny slung the satchel at him instead of handing it over. He slung it hard, hoping to catch Peter in the mouth, but the man simply snatched it out of the air. He opened the flap, and the dry wind rifled the pages. Brother Peter nodded approval.
“Now give me what you stole from my reaper yesterday,” he said.
“Ah,” said Benny. “That’s going to be a problem.”
Brother Peter lifted an eyebrow.
“I don’t actually have that stuff,” said Benny. “I gave it to Captain Ledger. Maybe you know him? Big guy, real grumpy, has this huge dog?”
“Joe Ledger.” Brother Peter pronounced the name slowly, tasting it, hating it but enjoying it too. Benny could see all that flicker through Peter’s dark eyes, and he also enjoyed the look of profound discomfort that rippled across the faces of the other reapers.
Joe scares the pee of out them, he thought. It elevated the ranger another notch in his book.
“That’s the guy,” Benny said. “So . . . you’re going to have to ask him for it.”
“No,” said Brother Peter, “I think you’ll go and get it from him and bring it back to me here.”
“You think I’d really do something that stupid just because you ask?”