Soul of a Demon (The Dark Souls Book 3)

by Jamie Begley

  Lamb handed me a small rag to wipe away the whiskey as I fought the faint dizziness, ready to go after her ass, when Pipe came storming through the door. I let out a growl of frustration, the rag pressed to my throbbing skull, clean hair now going to be sticky from my whiskey wash, as I saw Pipe open his mouth.

  “Prez, we’ve got a visitor, and I don’t think you’re going to like who it is.”

  “I’m not going to fucking like anyone at the moment,” I growled, registering the concern etched onto Pipe’s younger face. I threw my hands in the air, my eyes straying to Lamb’s face, who flashed me a smirk before looking over to where Pipe was still standing stiff as a board. Newbie hadn’t seen many visitors in the year of prospecting he’d done so far; he would probably be concerned over our delivery guy. Then again, Pipe was a sturdy fucker and it took a lot to unsettle him.

  I turned toward my vice-president. Lamb’s eyes scoured him, cataloging his tense behavior, before setting down whatever bottle of booze he’d been reorganizing. Not a good sign. “Who?”

  “Charon.”