Reaper of Flames (The Artifact Reaper Saga Book 3)

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Reaper of Flames (The Artifact Reaper Saga Book 3) Page 1

by Jen L. Grey




  Reaper of Flames

  The Artifact Reaper Saga

  Jen L Grey

  Reaper of Flames Copyright © 2019 Jen L. Grey LLC

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  About the Author

  Also by Jen L Grey

  1

  The door rings as a new customer walks into the diner this late afternoon. I finish wiping down the vinyl table from the older couple that just left, even though I don't see the point. It's just as greasy now as it was before, but it's all about the presentation, I guess.

  A breeze hits the back of my arm as someone slides into the booth. The familiar pulse of reaper magic hits me hard.

  "Hey there." Soft brown eyes find mine. A lazy grin spreads across his face as he grabs a menu from behind the napkin holder.

  Why does he keep coming in here? Okay, I'm being a little self-absorbed here. It's not like this is a huge town, but still, he makes me uncomfortable. "What can I get you?"

  "I'll take a waffle, scrambled eggs, and an order of bacon." He places the menu back in the holder and bites his bottom lip. "Oh, and a coffee."

  Not wanting to say anything else to him, I turn and head behind the counter and call out the order to the cook. It's almost like living in another world here in Missouri. I hadn't meant to stop here after leaving home, but my car broke down right after I passed by the Ste. Genevieve, Missouri sign and I've been stuck here ever since then. It's been two weeks and I'm beginning to wonder if my transmission is ever going to get fixed.

  I grab a cup from the back counter before I reach over for the coffee pot. I carry both to the customer in the booth waiting on me. "Here you go." I sit the mug on the table and fill it.

  "Thanks." He grins and tilts his head to the side. "I love breakfast for dinner. Something about it brings me peace."

  He always tries to chat with me. I hate it. I want to be left alone. The artifacts inside me begin to spin. I have no idea why, but it must be his magic affecting mine somehow. "That's nice."

  "Christina." A loud, brash tone echoes in the restaurant. "Can you come here for a minute?" Jeb's bald head comes into view from the back. His overall strap is falling off his right shoulder and he's picking at the back of something on his thin arm.

  Please God, tell me my car is fixed. I head toward the back and follow him down the hall. Shirley walks in through the employee entrance as we reach the back of the building where Jeb’s office is.

  She throws her stuff down on the table by the door and ties her black apron on. "I'm so sorry I'm late. The baby sitter ran late." She pulls her blonde hair in a ponytail and puts her keys and phone in her pocket.

  She's always running late because of her sitter. It didn't take me long to learn that and I’ve only worked her a little over a week. Shirley works the night shift. I work the swing shift and cover mid-afternoon to after dinner, so I overlap with second and third shift

  "Just get out there." Jeb shakes his head and frowns.

  "Yeah, okay." She grabs a pad and pen and takes off.

  "So, I need you to come in tomorrow after all." He taps his fingers against his pants.

  Of course, he does. I've been here a short amount of time and he's already come to rely on me for this, but I need the money. "Yeah, I'll be here."

  "Yeah." His eyes meet mine and he purses his lips. "Good. I'm glad I found some good help."

  Like I have a freaking a choice. The mechanic keeps finding things wrong with my car. "Of course. I have to pay your brother somehow."

  "Okay, good." He sighs and crosses his arms.

  "Food’s up, Chris." The cook calls from the front.

  Not wanting to hang around any longer, I turn and head back to the kitchen. I grab the plates off the counter and head to the guy. "Here you go." I lay the food in front of him.

  "Where are you from?" He grabs his fork and places an elbow on the table. "I've been wondering for a while now."

  What is it with him? Yes, I'm not from here, but you'd think I was from another dimension. "I'm from Illinois."

  His eyes widen and he takes a bite of egg. "Oh, that's where that reaper town is. Do you live close to there?"

  My body tenses and I take a step back. "I have no clue what you're talking about." Why is this dumbass trying to have this conversation with humans nearby?

  "Hey." He calls out and bites his bottom lip. "I'm sorry. I just haven't been around someone like me in a while. Ever since my parents died, and you're from that area. Dad always told me stories about that town and how they throw out anyone not worthy. That asshole council just leaves us out here to die." His hand grips the fork until his knuckles turn white.

  Wow. The council makes it sound like everyone loves them, but that's not the case. So, everyone outside our town is outcasts. Why am I not surprised?

  "Everything okay out there?" Shirley steps out with her eyes narrowed, looking between him and me.

  "Yeah, just delivering his food." Thank God. I want to get away from him and it's close to quitting time. My feet are close to killing me and I'm exhausted.

  "I got you covered." She smiles at me. "I think it's time for you to head on out anyways."

  As if on cue, my feet begin to ache. I glance at the clock and realize it's close to ten. "Yeah, I'm beat."

  "Hey, wait." The guy reaches out to me.

  Oh, no. My magic begins to thrum inside me and the urge to get the hell away courses through me. Granted when I left town the day the artifacts absorbed into me I needed distance, but I didn't expect this. Illinois seems a lot further than six hours away from here. The magic inside me is too much and being there was too much. I needed space to clear my head and figure out what's going on within me. At times, it feels as if I'm barely in control and that's not good.

  "Whatcha need?" Shirley steps in between us and grins. "Do you need some cream or anything?"

  Times like these show me she's not as flighty as she lets on. I head to the back and clock out, grabbing my things. I should tell everyone bye, but I don't want to prolong getting out of here. Raw energy is still pulsing through me and I need to get out and get some fresh air.

  After I head outside, I pause and let the cool
breeze moves against my face. I've got to get my shit together. I blow out a breath and walk three blocks over to the small brick motel I've been staying at since I got stranded here. The exercise seems to burn off some of the excess energy that’s thrumming in me.

  It's surprising, but these places aren't bad, nor super expensive. Once at my unit, I lock the door after I turn on my lights. It doesn't matter if this town seems small and safe. You never know what could be lurking behind anywhere.

  The room is a dingy white with a king size bed in the center. There is a thirty-two-inch flat screen tv on the wall facing the bed, with a bathroom on the right. But other than that, that's all I have to my name.

  My nose cringes as the usual musty odor fills it. Ugh, the Febreze I sprayed earlier has already stopped working. What the hell is wrong with this place?

  I want to crawl into bed, but I smell like grease. I force myself into the bathroom and turn on the water. The pipes groan under the pressure and the water spurts to life. I grab some clean pajamas from my backpack and bring them in the bathroom while the shower warms.

  My body and mind are exhausted. I never realized how hard it is to be a waitress. Maybe being a Malone has made me soft in ways. I take a quick shower, crawl into to bed, and turn on the tv.

  After just a few minutes, my eyes become droopy. This is the part of the day I hate, but it's inevitable. My eyes close and as soon as my eyelids meet for more than a split second, the flame springs to my mind.

  It's a flame that burns blue and red, and radiates off a white stick. All around it is dark and there are screams that echo in my ear and my skin almost burns as if I'm standing there. This has to be Hell. Of course, an artifact would be found there.

  Just like all nights, I must force my mind clear. It's hard, because the freaking flame doesn't want to leave my mind. But I'm not sure if I clear it or I'm just so tired, I fall asleep.

  Something claws at me, desperate to get out. I shift in bed and turn trying to get comfortable. My power thrums inside of me, as if it's pulsating against my skin trying to clamber its way outside my body.

  I sit in bed and reach out to the lamp beside me. However, my hand catches air and falls to the side.

  What the hell?

  That's been there ever since I was twelve.

  Something nags at me in the back of my head, but I can't put my finger on it. I rub my eyes, and everything crashes back in. Holy shit. I'm not at home. What the hell am I thinking? Hell, my parents don't even own that home any longer.

  My energy is still restless, but it seems to be calming down. I don't know what's going on with it. I sure wish I had someone to talk to. Let's be real. It's not like I'm fooling myself at this point. I wish I could talk to Charlie.

  Hell, I've thought about him so much, I've memorized his number. It's been two weeks. I miss Charlie, and I need to hear his voice.

  Before I allow myself to consider the consequences, I grab my phone and dial his number. It rings twice before he picks up.

  "Chris?" His tone sounds full of concern and relief.

  Just hearing his voice makes my heart pick up its pace. What am I doing? I shouldn't be calling him. There is no telling if the council is still looking for me and I could be putting him in danger. Dammit.

  "Chris, are you there?"

  I want to answer him, but I can't risk him. If he knows anything about me, the council could try using him. Taking a deep breath, I make myself hang up the phone.

  Now that both artifacts are inside me, they are going to be more desperate to find me than before. I don't know who I can trust, and I have to keep myself and the ones I love safe. I have to figure out something.

  2

  As I bring out the food for one of the tables, the door jingles as the reaper enters the restaurant. It's right before the dinner rush when the Seniors come in.

  His chestnut hair is ruffled, and his eyes meet mine as he slides into a booth.

  Shit, he comes in every day.

  I lay the food on the table and smile at the older gray-haired couple. "Can I get you anything else?"

  "Oh, no thank you, dear." The older man grins and winks.

  Well, all right then. I take a deep breath and head over to the reaper. "Hey there, what can I get you?"

  "Let me take a hamburger with fries this time."

  "Coming right up." I turn, but a hand grabs my arm making my power churn.

  "Can I ask you one question?" His tone is quiet, his touch light.

  I want to say no, but I have a feeling he won't let this go until I answer whatever is on his mind. "It depends." I turn around and face him.

  "Why are you here? You seem different." He tilts his head. "Are you from that town?"

  He's not going to let this go until I answer. "Yeah, I was from that town, but like you said, they’re jerks and I didn't fit their mold." That's not a lie. He doesn't need the whole truth. "So, I had to leave, and my car broke down when I got here."

  "So, they did to you what they did to my parents." His hands clench tightly into fists. "That's why we all hate them. I'm sorry they did that to you, but you're better off."

  With my magic churning, I’m not sure if that’s true, but I can’t risk going back. "All?"

  "Yeah, all of us out here." He runs a hand over his arm. "We've been cut off from them except for when they need us for their targets or some other errand. However, if we need something, they don't help us." He shakes his head and his jaw twitches. "One day they will get what they deserve."

  The last thing I want to do is have this conversation with him. "I better get moving before Jeb starts wondering what's going on."

  He nods and bites his bottom lip.

  Unable to get away fast enough, I hurry into the back and call out his order. Even though I'm uncomfortable around him, at least I've been able to get some insight into the reapers on the outside. They have the same opinion of the Council as I do. The only reapers fooled are the ones who live in our small town. Shit, he didn't mention what he wanted to drink so I grab his normal coffee and take it over to him. "Here you go." Not wanting to give him a chance to say anything, I make my way back to the kitchen to wash some dishes.

  As soon as I get back behind the counter, the front door rings again. I turn to find Alex walking in.

  His face has a smudge of grease on the side and his green eyes meet mine. He seems to be in his late twenties but talks as if he's still a teenager. He swaggers over to me and grins. He crosses his arms causing his muscles to bulge under his thin white t-shirt. "Hey, do you have a second?"

  For him, I'll make time. I need my car fixed and fast. I'm so tired of being here and the longer I stay here the more antsy I get. "Sure." Just like magic, Betty walks out the back. "Hey, Betty, do you mind covering me for a minute?"

  Her eyes take in the mechanic and nods. "Yeah, just don't be too long."

  He holds the door and we head outside. Once we get a few feet away from the diner, I pivot around to face him. "So, is my car fixed?"

  "No, it's not." His eyes cast downwards as he scratches his chin. "Your fan belt is messed up."

  Is he freaking serious right now? It's one thing after another. First it was my transmission, then he couldn't get the parts in until a week later. Now it's my fan belt. Something just seems off. "Are you just trying to keep me here?"

  "Awe, you're so cute when you're upset." A huge grin spreads across his face. "Are you free after your shift? Maybe I could take you out for dinner?"

  This has to be a joke. No one would have the nerve to be like that, right? "Is there anything wrong with my car?"

  His face drops and he scratches below his ear. "Uh... yeah. I mean it's really old."

  Dear God. I don't even know what to think right now. Yeah, the car is older, but it was in fine working condition until I got six hours away from Charlie then something happened it and got me stranded here. "Is it drivable at this point?"

  "Okay, here's the thing." He looks away and clears his throat.


  Oh, this ought to be good. I have a feeling I'm about to get really pissed.

  "It is, but it does have a lot of stuff wrong with it. But I mean, it works now." He chuckles and kicks at the ground. "So now that you're probably about to leave town soon, I'm still hoping you'll at least let me take you out for dinner just once."

  "Thanks, but no." There is no way in hell I'd go anywhere with him. There is no telling how long he'd have me stuck here racking up a bill if I hadn't just put my foot down. Jackass.

  "Are you serious?" His eyes widen and he huffs.

  "Yeah, just do whatever you need to do with the water thingy, and I'll be there to get my car when I get off my shift." I don't want him to have my car any longer than he has to. There's no telling what else he might do to it.

  "Fine, I close five-thirty, sharp." He stomps off and grumbles something under his breath.

  If I cared even a little, I would call out and ask what he said, but I don't. He just needs to get my car fixed. Shit, Betty leaves any minute now so I need to get back in there and get someone to cover me so I can go get it in an hour.

  I turn around and walk back into the restaurant. I head to the back and find Jeb in his office. "Hey, when is Shirley supposed to get here?"

  His head is hovering over his desk with a pen in his hands. "She should be here in thirty minutes. I'm sick and tired of her cutting it so close to your leaving that I'm getting her to come in an hour earlier."

  Oh, thank god. This is a blessing. "I hate to do it, because I know it's the dinner rush around that time, but I need to go pick up at my car when she gets here real fast."

 

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