by Cara Wylde
“No. Because the woman was holding her baby and showing it to someone. And that someone was about to be revealed. He didn’t want you to see his face. He didn’t want more people to know. There are already enough parents and students involved, and if Headmaster Colin isn’t careful, word will eventually get out and all will be ruined.”
“You’re saying words again, and I just don’t…” I sighed. “Speak clearly, okay? Enough with the mystery!”
“Valentine Morningstar is your father, Mila. And the prophecy says a human Reaper will finally retire him. Who else, if not you?”
The ground was slipping from underneath my feet. The world was spinning. I started running up the abrupt slope as fast as I could. I didn’t look back. I heard Francis calling after me, but I ignored him. He’d said enough. He’d done enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I burst into Headmaster Colin’s office, paying no mind to his secretary, who jumped out of her chair and ran after me. She caught me when I was already through the door. I must have looked like hell, because when he saw me, he motioned for the woman to leave us alone and close the door.
“Ms. Lazarov, how may I help you?”
“Practice starts in May.”
“So it does. Right after the finals. One more month, and you’ll be assigned to one of the twenty-two Grim Reapers. I thought you were looking forward to it, just like everybody else?”
“You’re going to assign me to Valentine Morningstar.” It wasn’t a question, it was a fact, and when I saw him go livid and clench his jaw, I knew I’d hit the nail on the head. Francis had told the truth. Hell! Lorna had told the truth! “It doesn’t matter how I do at the finals, it doesn’t matter how many worth points I have. You will assign me to Valentine Morningstar because you believe in the prophecy. Because I’m his daughter. His human daughter.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, I could tell he’d accepted that his initial plan hadn’t worked, and now he was ready to adopt a new one. I could only hope this one would also come with some much-needed honesty.
“That is right, Ms. Lazarov.”
I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. He placed his hands behind his back and looked at me curiously, studying my every move and reaction. What was he doing? An impromptu assessment of my character? Which made sense, really, since he was teaching Psychology and we had one class a week with him.
“You can’t do this. You won’t,” I finally said. “I will take my finals, I will keep working for worth points all through the semester, but you can’t force me to go to practice. Not yet. I can’t…” I swallowed heavily. I almost couldn’t believe the words I was going to say. “I can’t meet my father. I’m not ready.” I took a step toward Headmaster Colin, as if I was ready to jump at his throat and tear him to pieces if he refused to grant me my wish. “You kept me in the dark! You knew who my real parents are! You know more about me than I know myself, and it just isn’t fair. I have this right. I have the right to say no, I will not play this sick game of yours anymore, and I will not go to practice.” I was panting. After all that had happened in the past hour, I was feeling lightheaded, too. “I will do it when I’m ready,” I added. “I will meet Valentine Morningstar when I’m ready.”
To my surprise, he nodded.
“Good,” I said. I straightened my back and made to leave the room.
“On one condition,” he stopped me.
I turned to give him the deadliest look I could muster.
“I understand your distress, Ms… Morningstar.”
My heart jumped and my stomach twisted at the sound of that name. That name that had no place being associated with me.
“Don’t call me that.”
“It is who you are. Mila Morningstar.”
I rubbed at my aching temples. “What’s your condition?”
He closed the space between us and placed a warm, heavy hand on my shoulder. His voice was soft and gentle.
“That you spend the end of this semester and the summer vacation here, at the Academy, and you study Valentine Morningstar. No Reaper has been able to retire him, and he must be retired. Sooner rather than later. Each decade, he gains more influence and power. Each two hundred years, someone fails to take his place, and his ego grows, his abilities expand, and he’s becoming the most powerful and dangerous Grim Reaper that has ever been. No one can say what he might decide to do with that power one day. He might even become delusional enough to call himself Death. The actual Death. Not a personification, not a concept. Death. And if that happens, the world as we know it will collapse. The prophecy…” He sighed deeply. “It’s not much, but it’s all we have. Prophecies can be misleading and unpredictable, but sometimes it’s better to have one than to not have any hope at all.”
“I don’t know what to say…”
“I believe you do.”
“Well, it’s not like I can go home for the summer holiday,” I said bitterly.
He smiled kindly. “So, stay. The Academy needs you.”
I sighed. It was the kind of deep, heavy sigh that made my chest rise impossibly high and drop like a rock.
“How about you give me a better room, then?”
“I could, but I don’t think that’s what you want.”
I laughed. A bit hysterically, but at least it was a laugh and not tears of frustration.
“Mila, the room we gave you used to be Valentine’s room. We thought that if you lived where he lived, maybe you’ll feel something. Maybe you’ll discover something that has eluded us all this time. The room comes with the one condition that can get you out of this year’s practice. Study Valentine. Learn his secrets. Figure him out. When the time comes, we’ll need you to retire him.”
Kill my own father, that was. I didn’t say it out loud, but Headmaster Colin knew I was thinking it. I nodded and left his office. I walked down corridor after corridor in a daze. I crossed the inner courtyard, passed the dining hall, but didn’t stop. Sheer inertia was taking me up to my room. The room that used to be my father’s. My real father, the nephilim. Just as I was climbing the last few stairs of the north tower, I saw Sariel waiting for me up on the landing. I sighed. Nothing that he could do now would shake me more than what I’d just found out. He’d tried to kill me a second time. He could try it a third time by pushing me down the stairs. Whatever, I didn’t care. Old news.
“You suck at murder plots,” I said boringly. “Francis’s god swallowed me up and spat me back out.”
He dragged in a breath but didn’t say anything. He just looked at me. His wings were spread out. With that blond hair of his and those silver eyes, that perfect jaw, and that straight, noble nose, he looked divinely handsome. Too bad he was a devil in disguise. Pazuzu was more innocent than him, and Pazuzu was a demon. That said a lot.
“Are you going to move, so I can pass?” He was blocking the way, of course. “Are you going to push me down the stairs? Just make up your mind sometime today, because I don’t have time for this.”
“Do you know why I hate you so much?”
“No! Please enlighten me! I’ve been waiting for the moment of truth for so long!”
“Because you’re a Violent Death. A true, textbook Violent Death.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “That makes no sense. So are you.”
“But you see… I’m not. I try so hard, I pretend so much. I play a part every minute of every day. A part that’s just not me. But I have to play it. I have to wake up every morning and slip into my Violent Death persona, because otherwise…” And that was the first time when I could swear I saw Sariel drop his act and become his real, raw self. “Otherwise, my parents would disown me. And do you know what happens when an archangel is disowned, Mila? He’s thrown out of Heaven.”
“Sariel, you’re saying words…” If I had to say that one more time to make the Mighty Jerks understand they weren’t making any sense…
“I was never VDC.
I am and will always be MDC. Merciful Death. But my parents wouldn’t have it. So, I cheated on the test and pretended since day one. There. Now you know.”
“Is this why you’re being so cruel to me?!”
He laughed. “You’re everything I will never be. You’re the one true Violent Death in our Cabal. The others? Posers! And now you know my secret. Do with it what you will. I’m exhausted. I can’t do this anymore.”
I bit my lower lip. What the hell was happening? Sariel was being honest for the first time in his life, and I actually felt… sorry for him? If I could feel compassion for the guy who’d tried to kill me twice, then maybe I wasn’t VDC either.
I reached out and touched his arm briefly. He jumped in surprise but didn’t pull away.
“Sariel, I have to go now. Will you let me go?”
He nodded and stepped aside. As I walked past him, a feather fell from his left wing and followed me down the corridor. I went into my room, closed the door, left the feather outside.
THE END
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Slaying Year Two
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The Hanged Maiden
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This was never supposed to happen.
When Valentina’s coven is attacked and she’s the only survivor, she saves the Suit of Spades, which she is sworn to protect, and flees. Thank the Goddess there’s a solid protocol in place! All she needs to do is find the Major Arcana, and Keepers who are more powerful and experienced than her will take over from there and protect the Mysteries of the Tarot.
Or not.
What happens when half of the Major Arcana is destroyed? Valentina doesn’t know. There are no protocols. No precedent. She’s lost, but the good news is she’s not alone. She can count of her best friend, Piper, a hobgoblin who decided to follow them, and now on this handsome, hot as sin guy who claims he’s Loki himself, the God of Mischief.
It could have been worse.
Oh, wait! It’s going to be. Because in order to save the Tarot, Valentina will soon have to deal with even more gods. And, it is known, gods are impossible to work with! Mainly, because they hate each other. One witch to convince nine powerful gods to play nice?
Unlikely.
FREE Prequel Novella HERE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cara Wylde loves to write about strong, feisty women and their hot Alphas who will do anything to make them happy. Her books are filled with romance and just a dash of mystery, suspense, and that eerie atmosphere she fell in love with reading too many gothic novels. With a master's degree in Comparative Literature, she can't help but play with tropes and themes from various genres, trying to come up with fresh perspectives on the paranormal characters her readers love so much. Vampires, shapeshifters, demons, witches... Cara will always make sure they get their own twists.
When she's not writing, Cara is reading, planning her next story, or daydreaming. Oh! And also studying and reading Tarot. If you’re interested, you can visit her Tarot Website.
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