Reaper Reborn

by Kel Carpenter

  “No—well, not that. Yes, that’s a problem too, but I’m talking about our other problem.”

  Graves squinted at me. “Thana?”

  “Gretel,” I replied. “She paid me a visit. Death wants an answer.”

  “But it gave you a week.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said too. Apparently Death is an impatient fucker. Must be where I get it. Anyways, I need to figure out who it is in this life so I can talk to them.”

  “Graves. Kaine. Get your asses over here,” Dom called.

  I lifted my head and froze like a deer in the headlights.

  How did they already find out—

  “Don’t talk. Let’s see what he wants,” Graves said under his breath. His hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me toward the group that formed around our Fuckface leader.

  “You two are going to check the grounds,” he said.

  “But—” I started. Welp. Silence didn’t last long.

  Dom stepped forward and lowered his voice.

  “We can’t take weapons onto their territory, and I’m not losing anyone else.”

  Oh. Well. When he put it that way . . .

  “We can make the rounds,” Graves said.

  “Good. Try not to die . . . again.”

  Somehow that was almost endearing coming from him.

  We walked across the clearing and past the Council. Tamsin met my gaze and nodded once. She approved of them sending me, not that anyone outside of the reapers and herself knew why.

  The line of shifters parted. We were just at the tree line when Dom called out.

  “Report back to Gamma Rho when you’re done. Alexander wants to see you both.”

  Oh goody. More secrets coming to light.

  Considering all the ones already on my plate, I wasn’t exactly thrilled.

  “Come on,” Graves said, pulling me into the woods. “Let’s get this over with.”

  15

  Reborn

  “Well, that was a fucking waste of time,” I muttered, wiping dirty hands on my jeans.

  “It was a formality that allowed the Council—” Graves started, catching up with me as we walked up to Gamma Rho.

  “I see your lips moving, but all I hear is blah blah Council bullshit blah.”

  His lips twitched. “That was actually the gist of it.”

  I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Thought so.”

  We reached the back door, and Graves held it open for me, grasping my wrist and holding me in place so he could duck down and give me a kiss. It was over as fast as it began, but the brief slide of his lips against mine was enough to set my blood on fire.

  “What was that for?” I asked, a little dazed as we moved into the kitchen.

  He shrugged. “Do I need a reason?”

  “Nope, definitely not. Feel free to do that as often as you like. Ideally when we’re alone and can get naked.”

  For a second there, I forgot where we were, and Dom’s low whistle had my cheeks burning as reality came crashing back.

  “It’s amazing you two ever manage to get anything done,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “Yeah, well, I’m an amazing multitasker,” I said dryly. No matter what Esme says.

  The purposeful lift of his eyebrows told me exactly what he thought of that, so I let my finger do the talking.

  Dom chuckled. “Alexander is waiting for you upstairs.”

  Graves waved at him in thanks and started leading the way. We’d already called ahead and reported in, so Dom and the Council both knew what we’d uncovered during our search. Namely, not a damn thing.

  We made our way quickly up the first flight of stairs and down the hall. Graves opened the door at the end and a shiver raced down my spine.

  “Cold?” he asked.

  I shook my head. The last time we were up here we died, and Shep the sheep ended up being bar-b-que. Not my favorite memory.

  My face must have shared the direction of my thoughts because Graves reached back and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly as we walked up the second flight of stairs.

  “We have some good memories up here too,” Graves said. A dark thrum to his voice as he gestured to the wall he’d pinned me against.

  My lips curled up. “True.”

  We shared a heated look, but he knocked once on the reaper door before twisting the knob and pushing it open.

  “Dad?”

  Alexander was leaning against the mantel, staring into the flames below. It was so similar to what James had been doing that the two images transposed over each other for a second before I blinked them away and stepped inside.

  Alexander turned and gave us a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I appreciate you both making some time to come and see me. I’m sorry I had to put this off this long. With the changes on the Council . . .” He shook his head, clearly not really wanting to go into it.

  I shrugged. “No problem. We needed to see you anyway. Turns out, I’m not the only member of the lady death club anymore.”

  Graves’ eyebrows flew up. He thought I was talking about Thana.

  Alexander’s expression was almost identical to his son’s. “What do you mean?”

  “My aunt, Esme. When I brought her back, I triggered the reaper gene. She’s one of you guys.” I shrugged again. “I wasn’t sure how well-received she would be, so I figured I would tell you first and see what you thought.”

  “Interesting,” Alexander said, running his fingers over his lips. “I wonder how many other sisters and daughters carry the gene.”

  “My guess? All of them.”

  Alexander was nodding. “Would have been helpful to know that years ago. We could have bolstered our numbers. Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

  Fat chance.

  “Gamma Rho are misogynists. You guys couldn’t have handled people like my aunt kicking your asses,” I quipped.

  Graves gave me a look, and I shrugged. What was Alexander going to do?

  Shit. That’s what.

  To both our surprise, though, Daddy Graves let out a low chuckle.

  “Yes, I suppose there is that. Still, maybe things would have turned out differently, had the reapers not gone down the path they have. I fear for our longevity in the coming war.”

  “War?” I repeated. “But—”

  “It’s inevitable, Salem. Dominick is doing his best to hold it off, but the Council wants blood. The supernaturals of Farrow’s Square are tired of death. I saw the writing on the wall as well as anyone, but I was too stupid to do anything about it. I deserved to be stripped of my title. But that’s not why I called you here.”

  He turned around from the fireplace and crossed his hands behind his back. Strong blue eyes settled on me. I had to try not to fidget under his stare.

  “Why did you call me here, then?”

  “You’re being hunted,” he said simply.

  My lips parted. How could he possibly know—

  “By a monster. The legends don’t give it a name, but the outcome is clear every time.”

  “You’re going to need to start over,” I said slowly.

  He nodded. “Right, of course. Since the beginning of the reapers’ existence, you, or some version of you, has popped up once every few generations—often in times of strife. Trouble follows you, Salem, but you probably already know that by now.”

  His lips quirked up, but I wasn’t so amused.

  “I didn’t know why before. None of us have. It’s only now, in this life, that you’ve shown us who and what you are.”

  “How do you know it was me? In all these lives?”

  “You look the same,” he said. “But you’re also always a twin, and it’s always fraternal. Each time you’re born, chaos ensues during the years you grow. Whatever is hunting you rips apart our ranks every time. It devastates the supernatural community. That’s why we came to Farrow’s Square to begin with. At first, we thought the monster was after us. It’s only once we got here
that we realized what draws it is you.”

  He didn’t know. Not everything at least, but he knew enough. Which made me wonder . . .

  “Did my father know this?”

  “Yes, but most do not. It’s a piece of information that’s been passed from one reaper head to the next.”

  “If you knew she was being hunted, why did you agree to the blood rite?” Graves asked.

  Alexander smiled. “If I tried to separate you two, it would have gone poorly. You would have fought even harder. While she dies in every life, she also comes back. I figured whatever was hunting her would find her, and inevitably you as well . . .”

  “You thought the blood rite would bring me back with her,” Graves said.

  Alexander looked away. Not embarrassed, not reproachful, but still aware of the deadly game he was playing.

  “It was a long shot,” Graves’ father said. “But chaos was already emerging. The tensions were building once more. I didn’t know how to save you—but I thought maybe if you both died, you’d both come back.”

  “Well, so far that’s the case,” I said. “So your gamble seems to have paid off.”

  Graves didn’t say anything as he stared at his dad, clearly having a hard time coming to terms with this.

  “With the way things are going, I have reason to believe the monster has found you in this life,” Alexander said at last, looking away from his son.

  “It has,” I replied.

  He blinked, turning to me. Clearly, he didn’t expect that.

  “You know about it?”

  “Recently we’ve had some run-ins.” I shrugged. “The thing hunting us can be killed . . . in a way. I don’t know how, though.”

  Only one person does . . .

  Thana.

  It all came back to fucking Thana.

  On one hand, she’d broken that tenuous trust between us. On the other hand, Alexander’s story checked out. It made more sense than even he knew.

  A thought occurred to me.

  “Am I the reason no one can leave Farrow’s Square?”

  Alexander tilted his head. A begrudging, “Yes,” slid from his lips. “You’re always born of a reaper line. In the past, we tried to . . . offset the consequences by handling you ourselves early on.”

  “You mean you kill her?”

  “We tried to,” Alexander corrected. “But we can’t. Not even splitting her soul works. It just pieces itself back together.”

  “You bastard—” Graves growled.

  “I haven’t done anything. The last time that was attempted was over a hundred years ago. After we realized that wouldn’t work and that nothing will stop the creature from finding her, we decided it was best to watch and keep an eye on her. See if we can figure out what it is that draws the monster. At the very least, confining her to Farrow’s Square meant this thing wasn’t out killing whatever humans might surround her.”

  “You knew what I was when you took over after my father died, then,” I said.

  Alexander nodded. “I had hoped that you wouldn’t come back, and that at least in this life . . . well, you know.”

  “But she did come back,” Graves said.

  “She did,” Alexander nodded. “And there will be war because of it.”

  Unless I could kill Death.

  Or Thana.

  16

  Confrontation

  I sat in the Impala, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel as I stared at the door to my house. I’d left Graves at Gamma Rho, knowing that the coming confrontation needed to happen alone.

  “Can’t avoid this forever, Salem,” I muttered, climbing out of the car.

  I may not be happy with my soul sister right now—understatement, I was fucking furious with her—but all roads led to Thana. It had become clear to me that she was at the heart of this. Thana was the key . . . but to what?

  My thoughts continued to chase each other as I pushed open the door and tossed my purse down on the little table beside it.

  “Salem, honey, is that you?” Esme called from the living room.

  “Yeah,” I half-heartedly hollered.

  “Can you come here for a minute?”

  I sighed, not sure I had it in me to deal with Esme’s antics right now, but also too curious to find a reason not to.

  I went off in the direction of her voice, my thoughts still focused on Thana when a loud crash sent my pulse racing.

  Oh fuck, Esme, what did you do this time?

  On high alert now, I jogged the rest of the way, coming to a dead stop when I found Esme preening in the living room. Her arms were crossed, and a smug grin was stretched across her face beneath her ghost goggles. Beside her, Aurora was hurling books across the room from the shelves lining the wall. The girl was throwing a proper ghostly temper tantrum if I’d ever seen one.

  Not that I could blame her. As far as I could tell, she was tethered to a metallic box that was flung open beneath her, a soft pink light glowing from inside of it as well as from some kind of arcane markings on the side. I wasn’t sure what the box had been before Esme repurposed it, but it almost looked like a jack-in-the-box without the creepy clown. I was guessing this was Esme’s ghost trap, but I didn’t have the slightest clue how it worked.

  “Esme,” I said slowly. “What did you do?”

  “What’s it look like?”

  “Like you caught a ghost,” I muttered, still not believing it.

  Esme’s smile grew wider. “Right in one!”

  “You get me out of here. Right. Now,” Aurora demanded, sending more books flying.

  “How did you even manage this?” I asked, my eyes darting between the two of them.

  “I had all the equipment. I was just missing the secret ingredient.”

  “The secret ingredient,” I repeated.

  She nodded. “When I explained to Richard what I was trying to do, he was more than helpful.”

  “Richard . . . your fuck buddy?”

  Esme’s eyes sparkled. “Fuck buddy and high warlock.”

  Of course. Of fucking course Esme was banging a warlock.

  “So Richard gave you this magic ingredient, and now your ghost trap works?”

  She gestured to a furious Aurora. “Obviously.”

  Fuck me. Esme shouldn’t be left alone. Although . . . my aunt definitely knew how to get things done. Who else would have managed something like this?

  Maybe I should recruit her help more often.

  “I can’t believe you fell for it,” I said to Aurora, which clearly was not the right thing to say.

  “What do you mean ‘fell for it’?” she screeched. “I was just over here minding my own business and this reaper bitch sucked me into the living realm. As if she had the right to summon one of Death’s messengers!”

  The sheer fury in Aurora’s voice gave me pause. This was no teenage meltdown.

  “Esme . . . do you know how long that trap will hold?”

  “Until I release it.”

  “Good, we’re about to put it to the test.”

  “What?” Aurora shrieked. “Salem Kaine, if you don’t let me go right now—”

  “You’ll what? Haunt me? You already spied on me and Graves. Seems like this is fair payback as far as I can tell. If this doesn’t teach you to stop spying on people . . .”

  She scowled at me, her arms crossed over her chest. “If you think I’m about to agree to anything you say—”

  “You will,” I said, perfectly confident. “Because if you don’t, you’ll be stuck here indefinitely.”

  Hatred shone in her eyes. “And to think I actually liked you.”

  I rubbed at my chest, giving her a fake frown. “Ouch, that hurts.”

  “Just tell me what you want,” she spat.

  “I want to talk to your boss.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Esme lifted her eyebrows, but remained uncharacteristically silent.

  “You heard me.”

  “You . . . want to talk to Death? Y
ou were serious about that?” she asked, some of her fury subsiding. She cocked her head and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I take it Gretel actually relayed my message?”

  Aurora shrugged. “She might have mentioned it to them. Why do you want to talk to Death?”

  “Because I want to know why they want Thana dead—and how to do it.”

  Silence expanded between us before Aurora threw her head back and let out a bubbling laugh. A tub of popcorn appeared out of nowhere and she tossed a few pieces in her mouth.

  “You? Kill Thana?” She shook her head, tears streaming out of her eyes from laughing so hard. “You’re too soft. Too human. You don’t have it in you.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “She’s got a point,” Esme said.

  “Seriously?” I turned on my aunt.

  She merely shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing, per se. You’re just better suited for getting into trouble—not cleaning it up.”

  I shook my head. “I cannot believe you right now.”

  “Where’s Death?” Esme asked the ghost.

  Aurora pursed her lips. “As if I’d tell you.”

  Esme grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  She lifted her gun, and Aurora snorted. “I’m already dead. That can’t do anything to me.”

  “Before I had it adjusted, probably not. But now . . .” My aunt smiled, and even I was creeped the fuck out.

  Instead of fear, Aurora’s eyes narrowed. Her popcorn disappeared as if the kid gloves were coming off. “You wouldn’t.”

  A shot rang out.

  Fury flashed through Aurora’s features. “You—you—bitch!”

  A black sickly substance drained from the hole in her chest where Esme had shot her. My aunt grinned. “I’ve been called worse things, dearie. Keep talking or the next one goes in your head.”

  “You can’t kill me,” Aurora insisted. “I’m already dead.”

  “While that may be true, you don’t seem to enjoy getting shot.” Esme shrugged. “Your choice. Tell us where Death is, or stay trapped in here.”

  Aurora grumbled under her breath.

  “We can’t hear youuuu,” Esme called out in a sing-song voice. The barrel of her pistol lifted to Aurora’s head.