by Donna Grant
“Actually, it’s smart. It’s a new concept you might try sometime.”
“You’re maddening!” he shouted as he came to a halt.
She stopped and slowly turned to face him, leaning the umbrella on her shoulder. “Let me put it to you this way, handsome. Bran knows I’m strong. When he finds me, he’s going to attempt to have me fight for his side. I’ll tell him he’s lost his mind, and we’ll have some more words. Then, after some careful thought, I’ll agree. When I get close to him, I’ll be able to find out what he’s doing to Death, and we can stop it. That way, she becomes her powerful self again and can crush this insignificant cockroach once and for all.”
“I like the crushing part,” came a seductive voice behind Rhi that Cael knew all too well.
Erith.
He wanted to go to her and wrap his arms around her, pull her against him and feel every inch of her. But he didn’t.
Rhi jerked around, slamming the umbrella into Cael since he was so stunned at seeing Erith that he didn’t duck in time. He winced and shoved the umbrella away as he stepped to the side.
“You’re looking pretty spiffy to me,” Rhi said and looked Death up and down where she stood beneath the overhang of a building. “I’m totally loving the outfit, by the way. I’ve got some boots that would complete it to perfection.”
In the next second, Rhi was holding a pair of black boots with tall stiletto heels that had small silver spikes lining them. There were six buckles from the top of the boot down to the top of the shoe—each a silver skull.
“Perfect for Death,” Rhi said with a wink.
Erith didn’t so much as glance at Cael before she smiled. He blinked, and the boots were suddenly on her feet. Even he had to admit, they were indeed perfect.
“Thank you for wanting to help,” Erith told Rhi. “It means more than you will ever know. But your path lies elsewhere.”
“But—” Rhi began.
“We’ll speak soon. I promise,” Death said before she touched Rhi. In the next instant, the Fae was gone.
Then, Erith’s gaze slid to Cael. Their eyes clashed. His balls tightened at the sight of her standing so defiantly before him in an ensemble that showed she was becoming more than just the Death he knew. She was letting in more of the Mistress of War.
Her pants were sculpted to her lean legs, and the corset accentuated her small waist and full breasts. Even the asymmetrical coat she wore was hot.
Desire swelled within him. He’d seen her many different ways, but this was a new Erith.
And this one might very well be his undoing.
Chapter Nine
It hadn’t been her plan to search for Cael. Once Erith left Seamus, she found her thoughts going again and again to Cael. Before she knew it, she was in a city, watching him and Rhi talk.
The moment Erith saw Rhi touch him, jealousy, sharp and true, cut through her. She wanted to lash out, to hurt Rhi. And it was only by sheer will alone that Erith didn’t. Oh, but how she craved it.
In her mind, she ripped the Light Fae to pieces again and again. It was only the sound of Rhi’s boots on the sidewalk that made her realize the duo was walking right toward her. That’s when she heard their conversation.
Relief swept through her when she realized the Fae wasn’t flirting with Cael. Which made Erith relieved that she hadn’t attacked Rhi. Erith should’ve known better. The Fae’s heart belonged to another—and would until the end of time.
But when it came to Cael, Erith didn’t always think clearly.
She was mortified by the feelings that had nearly gotten the best of her. But she managed to stay in control. This time. Would she the next time? It was just another reason to stay away from Cael.
Erith knew the Reapers found comfort in the arms of women all the time. But she’d never seen or heard Cael talk about anyone like the others did—before the Reapers found love. Erith was grateful that she didn’t know about Cael’s lovers because she wasn’t sure how she would react.
Her emotions were all over the place, and that didn’t bode well for anyone. Especially when she faced Bran.
Erith decided to make herself known to Cael and Rhi. She dropped her veil, yet neither saw her because of the umbrella Rhi held. It wasn’t until she spoke that both looked her way. Erith fought against looking at Cael.
Soaked from the rain with his shirt sculpted to every hard muscle, he’d never looked so damned gorgeous.
Or untouchable.
Erith kept her attention on Rhi. It would’ve been so easy to take the Fae up on her offer to help, but Erith couldn’t. She knew what was coming, and Rhi needed her attention focused elsewhere.
Once Rhi was gone, Erith had no choice but to look at Cael. She knew it was a mistake the moment she did. Because, for the briefest of seconds, desire flashed in his eyes, making her blood pound in her ears, and her heart race.
“The boots suit you,” Cael said.
She pulled her gaze from him to the shoes Rhi had given her and smiled. “I quite like them.”
“I also like the new look.”
Warmth filled her as she slowly raised her eyes to him. This time, she heard the need in his voice, and it made shivers race over her skin. “I couldn’t very well fight in a dress.”
Cael’s black brows snapped together as his gaze hardened. “Are you going after Bran now?”
The sound of authority and anger in his voice did something strange and unexpected to her, something exciting and . . . exhilarating. It took her three tries before she found her voice. “No.”
“Damn right, you aren’t,” he replied testily.
Cael turned away, only to spin back to her. “What the hell is wrong with you wanting to go after Bran? We have to stop him from taking your magic first. I thought you understood that.”
He’d never spoken to her that way before, and damn if she didn’t like it. A lot.
Too damn much.
“Believe me,” he continued his rant. “I know you don’t need me or anyone, but that doesn’t mean you should go alone.”
“I know.”
“That’s reckless, and that’s not something you’ve ever been. At least not while I’ve known you. And wh—” His words halted. “What did you say?”
“You’re right,” she said.
Cael ran his hand through his long, wet locks, pushing them away from his gorgeous face. Seconds later, the downpour shoved them back down again. She watched the rain fall into his thick lashes before he blinked the drops away.
She moved out into the rain, coming near him. It was a mistake to tempt herself so, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She would never have done such a thing before her magic was taken—or before she’d gotten the sword.
But now was different.
Now, it felt good.
“You’re getting wet.”
She shrugged. “It’s only water.”
His gaze dropped to her chest before he cleared his throat and hastily looked away. “Shouldn’t you be scolding me for talking to you like that? I apologize.”
“Don’t,” she told him. “You spoke your mind, which is what I want right now.”
Silver eyes met hers. “You don’t really want to know what I think.”
“Try me.”
He put his hands on his hips as he stared at her. Cael blew out a breath, sending water droplets flying as he did. “It’s better if I don’t.”
“Whatever,” she said and teleported to the tiny isle that held the doorway to her realm.
Once there, she quickly stepped through and strode toward her tower. She was angry. No, she was livid. She’d liked Cael’s tone. And she’d given him permission to keep doing it. Why had he stopped?
Why hadn’t he continued? Didn’t he realize that she needed exactly that right now? That she needed him?
She threw open the door to the tower and started up the winding stairs that led to her chamber.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Her foot missed t
he step, and she had to quickly right herself before she fell. Erith turned, her gaze snapping to the doorway to find Cael standing there, fury sparking in his eyes as he still dripped with water.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She hated how happy she was that he was there, and even more pleased that he was furious. In fact, her heart beat double-time that he had followed and then confronted her.
She faced forward and continued her ascent, intending to ignore him—just to see what he would do. Then she heard him taking the stairs three at a time, and her stomach quivered in anticipation.
Within moments, he was beside her as she reached the landing to her chamber. Except she didn’t go to her room. It had a bed, and with the way her emotions were darting here and there, she didn’t want to give herself any kind of reason to put her lips on Cael’s. She diverted to another room.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Cael said as he followed her into the library.
Erith turned around, her long braid swinging out before slapping against her arm with a thud. “Why? Because I told you to speak your mind?”
“You’ve never wanted that before.”
“When did I say that?” she demanded, anger slowly churning within her.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I don’t know.”
“Because I didn’t. You assumed that.”
“No,” he said as he took a step closer. “We always knew we worked for you. You make the rules. We follow them.”
“And each of you was chosen because you’re warriors. Did that ever cross your mind? Because I never wanted sheep to just follow me blindly.”
Cael jerked his head back as if slapped. “Sheep? You think I’m a fekking sheep?”
“Far from it. But when I tell you to speak your mind, I expect it.”
“Because you’re still calling the shots. You ignored me for weeks, and now I’m supposed to act as if that didn’t happen? As if my concerns didn’t matter.”
All her fury vanished in a second. “It wasn’t because I didn’t care. I did it because I didn’t want you to see what was happening to me.”
Instead of appeasing him as she’d hoped they would, her words only incensed him. His eyes narrowed as he stalked toward her. “Because you didn’t want any of us to see you weakening and try to join Bran? Is that what you think of us? Or was it because you feared we wouldn’t follow you anymore.”
“What?” She gaped, unsure where he was getting the ideas.
“You went to Eoghan.”
She shrugged. “Of course. He’d just returned to this realm. I needed to see that he was himself and give him control of the other group of Reapers.”
“That you didn’t tell me about. You didn’t trust me enough with any of that. All these years, I thought there was trust and maybe even a little friendship between us, but I was so bloody wrong.”
He pivoted on his heel to leave, and Erith couldn’t handle that. It had killed her to keep him away. But if he left on his own this time, it would devastate her.
“Cael. Stop,” she ordered before he reached the door.
He halted, his fists clenched by his sides. “What more do you want from me? I’ve given you everything I have. I’m here to serve you, not because I want revenge or because I am afraid of dying.” He looked at her over his shoulder. “I’m here because of you. Because of what you created with the Reapers. I wanted to be a part of something so amazing.”
“You’re a natural leader. I knew it the first time I saw you.” She bit back a smile when he turned to her. Erith fought not to go to him and ease the anger that marred his features. “You were an inspiration for the Reapers.”
She’d never intended to tell him that, but it seemed right that he knew now.
“I don’t understand.”
This time, she did grin. “I walked the Fae realm for thousands of years after I gave up my sword. I watched the civil war between the Light and Dark rip the planet apart. And I saw one warrior who was more courageous, more heroic, and more noble than any I had seen before. You.”
Confusion flashed across his face for a moment. Then, he took a step toward her, making her heart leap.
Erith glanced at the floor and decided to tell him everything. She knew if her emotions weren’t so out of control, she’d never even contemplate such a thing. But perhaps it was good that this was happening. Maybe it was time.
“I watched you for days, and as I did, I came up with the idea for the Reapers. It wasn’t long after when I found Theo and saw his betrayal and subsequent death. He was the first I asked to be a Reaper. The betrayal he suffered was something that resonated with me, so I used that as the basis for the Reapers. I never imagined I would offer you a position.”
“Everyone can be a fool.”
“You weren’t a fool, Cael. You were tricked. There’s a difference.”
Silence filled the room as he silently watched her. Erith grew uncomfortable under his silver gaze, wondering what he was thinking. She wasn’t all-knowing, and there were times—like now—that she wished she were.
“Cael, I—”
Her words locked in her throat as her knees grew weak, and it became difficult to breathe. She could feel her magic draining from her as if someone had turned on a faucet. Worse was the lethargy she experienced from her life being drained away, as well. She pitched forward, and suddenly, she found herself in Cael’s arms.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered and lifted her.
He brought her to the window seat and sat, still holding her. His warmth helped ease the coldness that had enveloped her.
“What just happened?” he asked.
She rested her head against his chest, uncaring that his shirt was wet because he felt that good. “It hasn’t been this bad before.”
“Bran,” he stated angrily.
Erith closed her eyes as the weakness consumed her. Her body wouldn’t respond properly, making it nearly impossible to even hold up her head. She liked the way Cael’s hand stroked her hair. In fact, she could stay just like this forever.
“I thought I could take him,” she murmured.
“You can.”
She shivered against the weakness and their wet clothes. “My sword revived me, but he took that little bit away again.”
Before her words finished, she was wrapped in a thick blanket while still in Cael’s arms. He dried their clothes with magic, but he never let go of her.
“I wouldn’t use the sword again until we stop whatever Bran is doing to take your power.”
“You’ll never get close enough.”
He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Maybe. Or Seamus could come through and give us the information as you believe.”
“I tracked him and found Bran. I think you might be right about Seamus. He said he didn’t go find you to tell you the plan because he knew Bran would have men looking for him.”
Cael blew out a breath. “Since he’s already with Bran, that’s probably exactly what happened. Had he called to me, Bran’s men would’ve seen that, and Seamus would’ve never gotten close to him.”
“Or, he could be lying.”
“We’ll know soon enough.” Cael tightened his hold. “Let me worry about that. You need to find a spell that will slow down what Bran is doing.”
“I’ve tried.”
Cael smoothed a lock of hair away from her face. “Try harder.”
She wanted to look up at him, but the lethargy pulled her toward sleep, and she couldn’t find the strength to fight it.
Chapter Ten
A hunger he wasn’t sure he could control, ran through him. Cael refused to release his hold on Erith. She felt so good against him, better than anything he’d ever dreamed or imagined. She fit perfectly as if she had been made just for him.
Partly because he’d seen her face go pale right before she crumbled and he caught her. But now that she was finally in his arms, he never wanted to let go.
&nb
sp; If only she weren’t fighting against her very essence being taken from her. It was a cruel, painful way to die. And not something Erith deserved.
“I’m not leaving you,” Cael vowed as he inhaled the scent of her hair that was a mixture of all the flowers of her realm.
Now that she slept, it was the prime opportunity for him to look around the tower for a possible way to battle Bran. It gutted him to see Erith so weak and vulnerable. She was anything but. Bran putting her in such a position made Cael’s blood boil.
He looked down at her. In all the years he’d served her, not once had he ever seen her thus. Still, yes. But lifeless, never.
The idea that this might be a preview of what was to come infuriated Cael. It didn’t help that he felt powerless. He had no idea how to aid her. The one thing he could do was go after Bran, but nothing he did would destroy his nemesis. Just as none of Bran’s army could hurt Erith.
Frustrated, angry, and feeling more exposed than he ever had before, Cael realized it was a dangerous combination.
He slowly rose to his feet with Erith in his arms and gingerly walked out of the library in search of her bedroom. He was a bit surprised to find it was the first room he came to. He gently lowered Erith to the bed and made sure she was covered with the fur blanket. She had stopped shivering, but her skin was still extremely pale.
Unable to help himself, he ran the backs of his knuckles down her cheek. Her flawless skin was cool to the touch. He longed to curl up beside her, but that would be pushing things a bit far.
Besides, he needed to help her win against Bran, the bastard.
Cael’s eyes lifted from Erith, determination swarming him. He straightened and turned on his heel before returning to the library. There, he searched each book, hoping he might find some kind of magic that would put an end to whatever Bran was doing to hurt Erith.
He found nothing, which didn’t help his mood. In all the various books, there wasn’t even one that could aid him. Cael left the library and made his way to the stairs. He ascended them to the next level and looked in each chamber on that floor.
