Page 39 of Death Warden
He placed his palm on his bike. “Nope. Hey, Drake, how’s it going?”
“Itching to ride, dude.”
Oh, God. Wow. The bike could speak? “Um…Hi, Drake.”
“You doing okay? You were a little shaken up last night,” Drake said.
“I was. I’m fine.” And I was speaking to a bike.
I looked to Curo, questions in my eyes.
“Drake was a hellhound once,” Curo said. “When a Grave Spirit is initiated into the club, they’re given a bike, and there’s a ceremony to call to the souls of Grave Spirits past. Drake chose to inhabit my bike. We’ve been riding together for decades.” He looked to me. “You’ll get your own partner when you join.”
“Oh, I’m not joining.”
He snorted. “Course you’re not.” He swung his leg over the huge bike. “Get on?”
“Where to, Curo?” Drake asked.
“Little Town.”
Before I could ask where Little Town was, Drake’s engine roared and we shot off out of the garage and down the drive.
* * *
Frostgate was a winter wonderland,crisp and beautiful and filled with life. I hadn’t had a chance to see much of the town when Curo had whizzed me to the club house on its outskirts last night.
The Grave Spirits’ residences were a gated, sprawling, three-floor structure surrounded by acres of land. According to Riley, there were twenty members in residence and twenty more living in the city, and a base in each town and city in GS territory run by VPs who answered to Dax.
Like all syndicates, they were responsible for keeping the territory safe. Some territories had police forces that worked for or alongside the syndicates, and in others the role fell to the syndicates entirely, as was the case here in Frostgate.
Questions filled my mind as we strolled down the cobbled streets of Little Town, a part of Frostgate that mimicked the Victorian era with quaint candy stores and fabric retailers. We’d passed two mystical stores and a psychic and tarot-reading venue.
Old-fashioned lampposts hung with lanterns lined the streets, and the air smelled like cinnamon buns and coffee.
It was beautiful here. “How big is Frostgate?”
“You’re wondering how the Grave Spirits keep the peace, aren’t you?”
“Forty club members to a city? Yeah, I’m wondering.”
“The wards mean we get to control who enters the city. We’ve managed to keep out the undesirables, so crime is low.”
“Riley mentioned the wards aren’t what they used to be.”
“Yeah, they’re weakening. Have been for a decade or two.”
“Do you know why?”
He shook his head. “No idea. Dax has been trying to figure it out. Frostgate is a haven. A stronghold if anything should threaten the six territories. The wards are important. But even with them at full strength, there’s crime. It isn’t in our nature to be lawful all the time, and peace can breed discontent.”
It sounded like an odd thing to say, but on reflection it made sense. “People get bored and do bad shit.”
“Yep.” He smiled. “We aren’t made to follow the rules all the time. I mean, where would the fun be in that? I’m sureyou’renot a rule follower.” He gave me a sidelong glance, pale blue eyes twinkling mischievously.
I didn’t fight the smile that tugged at my lips. “I am. I just make my own rules.”
“Hey, how are you?” Curo smiled and nodded at thin air.
