by Ali Winters
Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
EPILOGUE
Author’s Note
Cast of Characters
Significant locations & Items
Also by Ali Winters
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright © 2019, Ali Winters
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All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews or articles.
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Published by Rising Flame Press
Edited by Schwartz Fiction Edits
Cover design by Covers by Christian
Formatting by Red Umbrella Graphic Designs
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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www.aliwinters.com
For my readers
NIVIAN
A long time ago
NIVIAN LIFTED HER hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the late afternoon sun as she meandered through the market. Of all the assignments she could have been given, market day was her least favorite. She hated it. Hated the way the stench of so many sweaty, unwashed bodies hung thick on the air. It churned her stomach as they crowded the narrowed streets, pushing their way in every direction from one vendor to the next.
A dark shadow caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She turned, bobbing her head back and forth and bouncing on her toes. Too short. Someone like Finn or Kain, or any of the others were better suited to this duty. They had the height she lacked. Though, she refused to let it stop her from doing everything she could to protect the balance.
She pushed herself up on her toes in an attempt to get a better view of the crowd and was rewarded with an elbow to the ribs by a passerby, knocking her off balance and into the front of a vendor’s stall.
“Sorry,” Nivian muttered. She held her breath, trying to push down a huff of exasperation.
“Would you care for something?” the merchant asked, his voice frail and dry.
Nivian ignored the old man. She needed to find a better vantage point because if she saw what she’d suspected—
A clammy, bone thin hand shoved something into her own. She took a step away, moving toward the figure.
“Two silvers, please.”
Still she didn’t look back. She kept her gaze forward, searching. But she reached into her pocket and pulled out three coins and dropped them onto the surface of the booth.
A flicker of light and then a small gap opened between the people, and she saw exactly what she was looking for. One of the Dark Guardians was weaving through the crowd.
Then another flicker of light.
“This is too much—” the merchant started, but she was already pushing her way through the throng of bodies.
As she moved, the people jostled her back and forth, but she pressed on. Blindly, Nivian shoved the metal object into her pocket with no idea, and little care at the moment, as to what she’d haphazardly purchased.
The Dark Guardian seemed to be moving at random. Nivian couldn’t be sure if it sensed her presence and was playing with her, taunting her, or… yet another flash of light appeared within the crowd.
It should be drawn to its mark, not searching it out like a lost child. Though the Dark Guardian didn’t once look back, she couldn’t take the chance that it was only toying with her. As it moved to the right, so did she, swerving again when it abruptly changed direction.
Maybe it was her own paranoia, but something about its movements felt off. One of Nivian’s eyes developed a small twitch. If this thing was messing with her… she practically growled in annoyance and pushed her way closer, with more force, throughout the crowd, needing to get a better look. Slowly she gained on it.
Sweat dripped down her temple. There was no sticking to the shadows now, not if she wanted to see what it was up to.
A chill scraped down her spine despite the intense heat of the day, sending goosebumps racing along her skin. Nivian froze in place. Slowly, she turned her head to look behind. Several yards in the distance, another Dark Guardian stood tall, towering over the crowd. It was too far to make out his features beneath the black hood. Yet Nivian knew his eyes were on her. The weight of its gaze sat heavy upon her shoulders. Watching her, observing her.
He was there—for her, even though it was not her time. She was a Watcher, not a mortal. This could very well have been a trap. Something sinister. If it was, she’d fallen into it without a second’s hesitation.
What are they up to?
Her heartbeat slowed down until it all but stopped in her chest.
Of all the days to be put on solo duty.
Nivian wished Kain had been assigned with her. They almost always patrolled together. It was rare for a Watcher to go out alone. But Yeva had needed him for something she had decided neither Nivian, nor the others, needed to be privy to.
But she didn’t have time to worry about herself. She had to make sure they would not reap a human whose time had not yet come.
Nivian turned and ran toward the first, using her momentum to push her way through the throng with her shoulder.
As she neared the edge of the crowd, the space between bodies grew. She moved faster. Her movements stealthy, now unnoticed by the denizens walking about.
She readied her power in each hand, ready to strike if necessary.
Finally, Nivian broke through, stopping abruptly in the cross roads that led farther into the city and out toward the surrounding villages, including her own.
The first Guardian continued on as if she didn’t follow closer and closer behind. He pulled at the life threads of the mortals as he passed, making them vulnerable. Not just one, several. The glow from the collective threads would have been enough to turn night into day. She had never seen so many at once—not even when a mass reaping was necessary.
No, this Dark Guardian was not reaping a mark.
Gaia… He was playing with them. Threatening the balance with his reckless actions.
Nivian reached forward, throwing herself into the next mass of humans between it and her. They were closing in on the end of the market. She had to get to him before he reaped anyone and transported away.
Several more life threads were exposed. She was so close but still too far. She couldn’t stop it from here, but she had to try.
Nivian forced her body to move faster as she focused on the pearly white grin, too wide, too big, too uneven to be natural, pee
king from under its hood. The thin lips of this rogue Guardian vanished in the maniacal expression.
Long fingers reached overhead as they wrapped around a scythe. But there was no watch in sight. It was the one symbol she, and every Watcher, grew to know that a mark had been assigned and the reaping was to be completed… for the balance.
Time seemed to slow, and no matter how hard she pushed, her body wouldn’t move faster. The Dark Guardian swung his arm, the sun glinting off the sharp blade as it arched through the pale blue sky.
Her heart stopped this time for a long moment.
Then one beat. Two. Three.
She was only a few yards away, though still too far to aim accurately, and she only had one shot.
The man whose life thread glistened around him continued to rummage through a merchant’s goods, poking and prodding at the items. Blissfully unaware his life was in danger. Danger only she could prevent—and was doomed to fail.
She stumbled to a halt with a cry caught in her throat. Even if she loosed her power, it wouldn’t stop the reaping in time. Nivian aimed, the power in her hands burning with her anger and frustration. She drew back her arm, mirroring the Guardian’s movements.
The blade of the scythe inched closer to the life thread.
She was a failure and Yeva would have her head.
Nivian blinked, not believing what she saw. Then blinked again.
The scythe had stopped a hair’s breadth from slicing the man’s life force. She exhaled, nearly gasping for breath as time returned to normal.
A pale hand clamped down around the obsidian shaft of the scythe, holding it back.
Nivian dropped her arm, the white power fizzling out from between her finger tips.
Her gaze trailed up the arm to the body, and up into the face of the Dark Guardian, meeting the endless depths of midnight eyes, as dark as coal and as endless as the night sky.
Never once in her entire existence had she ever felt mortal. Not until that moment when she was held captive by his stare. Mortality wrapped itself around her like the cool scales of a snake squeezing the life from its prey.
She swallowed hard. Her muscles refused to obey her mind’s commands to move, to run, to attack. Anything.
Neither of them moved for what felt like an eternity as he starred down at her. A pained expression flashed across his sharp features, settling in those infinite pools of night.
His fingers tightened around the scythe as he lifted his other hand and reached out toward her in a gesture she couldn’t decipher. Nivian could only watch his movements, slow and steady.
He could attack her if he wanted as she stood, struck dumb by his actions. There was something familiar in his expression. Nivian found herself drawn to his mouth. A mouth she could have sworn she’d seen before, on another day, smiling before she’d lost him to the sea of people. But no, she had to be mistaken.
In mid-motion, he paused. His eyes widened a fraction. It was such an infinitesimal twitch, and something only a Watcher or another Dark Guardian would be able to detect. He curled his fingers back into his palm.
What did he want with her? She could feel a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her face, down her neck, to the collar of her fitted tunic.
Nivian sucked in a sharp breath and before she could part her lips to speak, both of the Guardians were gone, the din of the crowd returning to her ears.
YEVA
CLOUDS DRIFTED OVERHEAD, causing the light to dance over Yeva’s closed eyelids. The sun’s rays caressed her skin, warming her. The fragrant scent of wildflowers danced on the breeze. Birds chirped and their peaceful song lulled her down into the depths of sleep, though she tried to fight the effects.
A chilled wind like the night air brushed against her cheek and Yeva sucked in a breathless gasp. Her eyes snapped open and a conspiratorial smile formed. “Silas,” she breathed his name.
His power brushed up against hers, wrapping around her. The thrilling rush of his darkness and her light made her nerves sing. The power of finality, of void, of oblivion was so different, yet fit perfectly against her own.
Yeva sat up. The long grasses danced, swaying back and forth, but Silas was nowhere in sight. Rising to her full height, she turned in a circle scanning the area.
A sly smile spread across her lips. He was hiding and stretching his power to cover everything in sight to keep her from narrowing in on him.
Abruptly she turned to face the forest directly behind her and narrowed her gaze at the shadows. He loved to make her search for him, but he was predictable. Sticking to the shade of the trees. Finding him was never difficult.
She leaped into a run, heading for where she knew he awaited her. Even without her powers, she would know exactly where to find him. The trees wended, but she ran toward him as if he were a magnet, pulling her closer and closer.
Above, small rays of sunlight filtered through the thick, roof-like canopy created by the long arms of tree branches weaving through one another.
A branch snapped to her left and she spun on her heel, but Silas was not there. He was playing with her, trying to trick her and lead her in the wrong direction. One corner of her mouth lifted into a smirk as she continued on the path that would lead her to the old, gnarled tree.
The ancient oak loomed ahead. Yeva skidded to a halt and looked around. She’d expected to see him leaning against the rough trunk.
With quiet steps, she tiptoed around the back, expecting to see him. Yeva jumped out and stopped dead in her tracks, then straightened her spine.
He wasn’t there.
But he was always there.
She dropped her chin, disappointed. Could she have imagined it? It had been weeks since she’d last seen him and she missed him terribly.
It would be far too long since she felt the touch of his hand on her skin if her mind was playing tricks on her.
Yeva turned to leave only to have two strong arms gather her up from behind and pull her against a solid, muscled chest.
“Silas…” she whispered.
Silas’s hands slid down her sides and wrapped around her waist. The path of his fingers left a wake of desire sparking along her skin, even through her dress. He spun her, making her long red hair and the skirt of her dress flare out with the movement. She wrapped her arms around him then tightened her hold. Only then did her mind finally accept he wasn’t just a dream. Yeva nuzzled her cheek against him, breathing in the cool scent of sunset after a rainstorm.
He reached up and brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek and down her neck, gliding over her shoulder. With each caress, he left a trail of sparks glistening against her delicate skin. The shocks so light they tingled, leaving the lingering feel of his skin against hers.
Yeva laughed lightly, tilting her chin up to meet his stormy gray eyes. She pressed up on her toes, intending to place a kiss on his lips only to meet the velvety softness of rose petals.
“For you, my love,” he whispered.
She took the flower and inhaled the scent deeply. It was a strain he had created just for her. A mixture of red and a scarlet so dark it appeared black. A flower born of two realms; her living realm and Silas’s, where only the dead were able to tread. Though both naturally grew thorns, this mixture was completely void of them. It would last only a day before crumbling to ash, because even despite its unparalleled beauty, it was an impossible creation.
“It has been a while,” she said, soaking in the comfort of his arms.
“I know,” he said softly, as if she’d admonished him. “I am sorry.”
“Will you stay a while this time?” Yeva pulled away, just far enough to tilt her head back and look upon his face. He frowned and avoided meeting her gaze.
That was all she needed to see to know his answer, though he still spoke. “I am afraid I must leave soon. I know it was selfish of me, but I needed to see your face, if only for a brief moment.”
Yeva wanted to be upset, but she could feel the reluctance and regret in
his words. Silas always stayed with her when she requested it, unless duty called.
“I understand,” she said, and meant it. “I suppose I must see to my Watchers as well.” Her heart thudded once, hard against her ribcage. Months before, she had lost a Watcher to a rogue Guardian. At first she had wanted justice. Revenge. Nivian and her family had as well.
But the Dark Guardian had been destroyed by his own actions. Silas had only calmed her by reminding her that there had been rogue Watchers in the past who had destroyed Guardians. An unfortunate and unavoidable thing. Though rare, it caused tension between the groups, and between the two of them. Tension that lingered even now.
She hated it. It felt as if the world were slowly creating a wall between her and Silas, brick by brick, pushing them apart.
“You are… going to create another Reaper?” she asked, hesitantly taking a step back.
Silas dropped his arms and frowned at the term Reaper. Yeva cringed slightly at realizing her mistake too late. He hated when she called them Reapers. They were Dark Guardians. Though she felt her term was more fitting for the destruction they wrought.
“Yes. I can feel the balance begin to shift. It is almost negligible but should be remedied before it increases. Life is expanding faster now. I will need another to help with the responsibilities.” He avoided using terms like killing, taking life forces, destroying.
