Avarice… I could practically hear the gears in Tod’s head grinding, as he searched his memory, but if he came up with anything, I couldn’t tell.

“Does that mean anything to you?” Addison studied the reaper’s face in obvious hope. “Avarice means greed, right?”

“Yeah,” I said when Tod didn’t answer. I ran my thumb over Nash’s knuckles, where his fingers were still wrapped in mine.

“So, does that tell you who the hellion is?”

“No.” Though, I hated to admit it. “But with a little research it might.” I stood, signaling to the guys that I was ready to go. Immediately. “Tod, can you try to get a copy of Addy’s contract? Surely Dekker has it in a file somewhere.” That seemed to me to be the easiest way to identify the hellion, considering that Tod could pop into and out of places at will.

He nodded, but his face betrayed little hope.

“Good.” I turned back to Addy and scrounged up an encouraging smile. “We’ll let you know what we find out.”

I shoved the front door open and pocketed my keys, glancing into first the living room, then the kitchen to make sure Nash and I were alone. My dad worked an extra half shift most Mondays, so he shouldn’t be home until after nine, which would give me and Nash several hours alone together.

But I couldn’t get used to having the house to myself—Aunt Val had almost always been home—so I shouted for him just in case, as Nash closed the door behind me. “Dad?”

No response, but I dropped my backpack in his recliner, then checked his bedroom to be sure. He’d kill me if he found out I was messing in reaper business. Again. Not to mention the hellions.

My dad’s room was empty, and by the time I got back to the kitchen, Nash had shed his jacket and pulled two cans of soda from the fridge. I shrugged out of my coat and tossed it over the back of an armchair, barely glancing at the ripped upholstery.

It would have cost too much for my dad to bring his furniture over from Ireland, so we’d been slowly furnishing our new-to-us home as we could afford to. Fortunately the rental house was tiny, so we didn’t need much. And Uncle Brendon had insisted I keep everything I’d used at his house, so my bedroom looked much the same here, except for the plain white walls and little available floor space.

I didn’t care about any of that. All that mattered was that Sophie wasn’t around to stick her nose in my business. Except on Sunday nights. And even then, she usually ignored me completely.

“You hungry?” I opened an overhead cabinet and pulled out a flat, folded bag of popcorn.

“Starving,” Nash said, so I stuck it in the microwave and set the timer. While the microwave hummed, I popped open my can and stood with my back against the countertop, watching the view as Nash rooted through the fridge. Evidently two and a half minutes was too long to waitfor a snack.

But then, with the state football play-offs coming up, Coach Rundell had been working him extra hard for the past couple of weeks. No wonder Nash was always hungry.

“So, any ideas?” I asked as the first pop echoed from the microwave. Between conflicting schedules at school, his football practice, and my shift at the Cinemark, we’d barely had a chance to talk all day.

Nash stood with a jar of salsa in one hand, and I tossed him a half-empty bag of corn chips from the countertop. “Not even one.” He rounded the peninsula and sank into a chair at the folding card table currently furnishing our eat-in kitchen. “Find anything online?”

“Role-playing games and band lyrics,” I said, pulling open the grimy door when the microwave buzzed. Obviously, the Netherworld had yet to extend its influence to the Internet. Which was probably fortunate, now that I thought about it.

I dumped the popcorn into the largest bowl in the cabinet and shook a small bottle of nacho-cheese-flavored seasoning over it, then grabbed my soda on the way to the table. “So…what do you know about hellions?”

“Nothing more than what Addy told us last night.” Nash dipped a corn chip into the wide-mouthed jar, and it came out loaded with chunky hot salsa.

“After seeing her eyes, I never want to lay mine on a hellion. Ever.” I crunched on several pieces of popcorn. “But it doesn’t look like we’ll have much of a choice.”

“I could kill Tod for getting us into this.”

“It’s a little late for that.” I wrinkled my nose in distaste when he dipped a piece of popcorn into the salsa jar, then tossed it into his mouth.

“Weird.” Nash cocked his head to one side, chewing as he considered the odd combination. “But good-weird.”

“You want something to put that in?” I stood to grab a bowl before he could answer. “When’s Tod supposed to be here?”

He glanced at his watch. “He’s taking his break in about fifteen minutes. But knowing my brother, he’s already here somewhere, spying on us.”

I set the bowl on the table and poured salsa into it. “He needs a life of his own. A girlfriend. Addison seems pretty interested in him….” I ventured, leaning over his shoulder to dip a popcorn kernel into the sauce. I hesitated, then finally closed my eyes and stuck it in my mouth.

Eww! You’d think nacho seasoning and salsa would go well together, but they don’t. At least, not on popcorn.

Nash laughed at me while I washed the taste from my mouth with a gulp from my can. “The last thing Tod needs is a soulless human husk of a girlfriend. Especially a famous one. He’s legally deceased, and she’s followed around all day by photographers. I can see the headline—Addison Page dates dead boy!”