Reaver of Souls

by Stephanie Burke

  I should be scared, Sable thought as she felt the evil bitch’s arms tighten around her hurting body even more. I should be afraid of dying, watching my life flash before my eyes, should be screaming.

  But she was silent, grateful for the moments she got to spend with Torn.

  This is so seriously fucked up, she thought as the bottom seemed to drop out of her world.

  * * * * *

  There was a black streak, a huge black streak they all saw through the driving rain. And it dove, without hesitation, over the cliffs.

  “Sable!” Torn thought as he dove over the side of the mountain.

  His beloved was all that was on his mind, his beloved and the determination to reach her!

  He pulled his wings in tight as he tried to make his decent faster, willed the forces to push his body down with greater speed.

  There!

  Just ahead, he could make out the flapping cloak and a wild tangle of red hair, the pale flash of skin!

  It was them!

  Sucking his breath in deeper, making his body more streamlined, he urged himself faster and faster, closer and closer!

  But still too far away and the ground was catching up fast!

  He raced and reached, then… There! He was an arm’s length away. Reaching out, his hands snagged on to the trailing leash.

  Taking what the Creator offered him, the Reaver tightened his hands on the rope and jerked up as he snapped his wings open!

  But he didn’t account for the rain!

  The falling waters soaked his wings, making them heavier, weighing him down. His wings slowed his decent, but it was a fight to slow them down faster, to hold onto both his chosen and the screaming witch who was wrapped so tightly around her.

  Dozens of solutions spilled through his head in a split second. What could he do?

  You know what you have to do, his inner beast growled at him.

  “But we have to save her soul! We just can’t let her die!”

  So I guess you have a decision to make, the inner voice growled. Do you live for others, for their views of you, or do you live for yourself? What will make you happy? Trying to reave the soul of that madwoman, or saving the one who keeps him from the abyss?

  Again, a shadowy view of the dark cauldron that was his soul, came to his mind’s eye.

  You choose, hero, the Reaver sneered.

  The voice made sense, Torn thought. But the voice was evil, as was his dark soul and all the dark souls he had consumed.

  The Reaver spoke of truth!

  But how could the dark speak of the light? Did not the dark twist the light into what they could force others to believe?

  But to let Sable die…

  We can’t let Sable die. Without Sable, there was no Torn.

  Without Torn, there was no Reaver.

  Without Reaver, there was nothing, he would kill them both!

  He couldn’t let Sable die! Without Sable, there was nothing, there was no reason for being.

  But could Torn let a woman die?

  The ground raced closer and closer, the time for his decision was at hand.

  And Torn did the only thing he could do.

  * * * * *

  There was a piercing scream that reached the white-faced people standing on the cliff, struggling to look down into its darkness, struggling to see if the unthinkable had happened.

  “He…he…failed,” Jill gasped, hot tears falling, mingling with the cold rain that continued to soak them to the skin.

  “No!” Terror gasped. “This can’t be!”

  His son loved that woman so much, he willingly dove off the cliff in an effort to save her, knowing that if he couldn’t pull up in time, it would be the death of them all.

  His son loved that woman so much…

  At this thought, he was struck mute. His son loved.

  His son had found the woman that he dreamed of, and again Terror had refused to listen to him, only wanting to take his son home and try to make up for the years of his perceived neglect.

  All the while his son needed him, and he again was too selfish to even pay attention, thinking his way was the only way.

  Terror fell to his knees in the wet earth, knowing that if his son loved his Sable like he loved Nello, he would make no effort to pull up out of that dive.

  His son was lost to him, and this time forever.

  Nello just stared over the cliff, shock plainly written on her face.

  “Torn,” she managed through a tight throat and burning eyes. Again, she was too late to save her son.

  She stumbled back from the cliff just as Jill threw himself in Jack’s arms, his sobs sounding out over the cliff.

  Fal looked on, pitying all the parties involved in this…this…situation. It wasn’t fair; to find happiness and having it all stripped away. What damage would this do Terror and Nello? What would this do to the Realm?

  As he cleared his throat and stepped forward to do his job as healer, a huge gust of wind threw him backwards and landed him on his ass as his feet slipped in the thick mud.

  “What…?”

  He looked up, and just as the waters from the sky began to taper off, he was struck by the most magnificent sight he had ever seen!

  There, hovering above, wings flapping like mad, the Reaver forced his way up over the edge of the cliff and flopped onto the muddy ground.

  And in his hands, Creator, in his hands, was the small red-haired woman.

  “Sable!” Jack roared, then he was racing towards his friend, dragging his crying partner behind him.

  “Impossible!” the Healer whispered as he rose to his feet and approached the couple, disbelief in his eyes. “Impossible!”

  “Anything is possible!” Terror managed as he made his way to his son and his female. “Anything at all, Healer. He is my son.”

  “Our son,” Nello added as her sad tears transformed into tears of delight.

  And from the ground, Sable commented. “Have I ever told you how much I hate the rain?”

  Even though she smiled, there was pain in her eyes and in her voice.

  “Heal her,” the Reaver gasped, his tri-toned voice sounding weak as he fought to breathe. As he lay there protectively over his mate, his skin began to lighten and his muscles to grow more compact.

  Slowly as they all watched, the wings furled close to his body and melded into his back. The whipping tail retreated back into his body and the clawed hands morphed into something more human. The Reaver withdrew, sliding back within his body, leaving only the panting man behind.

  “We have got to get them to shelter,” the Healer shouted, his training taking over as he visually assessed his patients. “We have to get them warm and dry, and I will work on the female. She is the less sturdy of the two.”

  No one argued as Terror descended on his son, hefting him up in his arms and holding him close to his heart.

  “I’ll not leave Sable,” Torn managed, though he was too weak to lift his head from his father’s chest.

  “Then I will visit you here,” Terror decided. “And I will learn the strange ways of this strange place.”

  Following in Jack’s arms, Sable managed to gasp through the pain in her chest, “Now, can someone tell me who that bitch was? I hate being almost killed by some chick who won’t even tell me her name!”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “I can’t believe all is right with the world,” Sable whispered as she wiggled deeper into the thick covers on the bed and snuggled closer into the body that was spooning her.

  They had all gone—Terror, Jack, Jill, Nello and the big blond healer, but Sable knew they were nearby.

  “All is well. You are in my arms.” Torn replied as he squeezed her tighter, fear still making him keep her close. He never wanted to see her come as close to death as he had out on that cliff.

  Sable sighed as she recalled the frightening ride in the back of the van with Jack cursing and swearing at every pothole, Terror holding onto his son, turning gree
n in the face, the platinum blond healer hovering over her, and Jill and Nello talking over the level of distress in the small rolling box.

  Then things were a bit of a blur as the big blond began blowing powders in her face and chanting.

  After the third puff of green dust, she blacked out, only to be awakened later by the same man cataloging her injuries in halting English.

  “Bad cut on your right hand. Three broken ribs. Scrapes and slices on your hands and legs and face. Knees skinless. All in all, I say you are lucky to be alive.”

  “Torn won’t let me die,” she managed, before seeing his smile as her eyes closed again.

  The next time she woke up, the woman was in the bathroom with her. Well, the woman was in a hot bath, holding her in the same waters as she sponged much of Scotland off her body.

  “Who…?”

  “I am Torn’s mother.”

  “You are Nello? For a moment, I thought his mother was the one who tried to kill me.”

  “No,” Nello said with a laugh. “That was the woman he was going to mate.”

  “The one who sent him here?”

  “Yes.”

  There was silence, except for the splashing of the water for a few moments, then, “He doesn’t have any other psychotic women at home that might try to come here and kill me, does he?”

  “No,” Nello assured. “But would you leave him if he did?”

  “Nah,” Sable sighed as she decided that having the woman wash her was like being bathed like a nurse. Usually, the nurses didn’t climb into the tub with you, but the woman was very clinical about how she moved the sponge. So that was all right, she supposed, unless they practiced some weird lover’s mother, lover sex rituals. That, she would have to take a pass on. “But I would have you teach me some magic to keep them away from my man.”

  “Human,” Nello giggled, “you can’t be taught magic. You have it or you don’t.”

  “I guess I need to learn to use a sword then.”

  “Sable, you have magic!” Nello chuckled as she squeezed the sponge over the younger woman’s face.

  “But… No, I don’t.”

  “It is different than what I was born with, or from any of the realms I have traveled through in the past, but it is there.”

  “What magic?”

  “The magic that taught my son that he was worth being loved, that made him love you in return.”

  Sable contemplated that for a moment.

  “That wasn’t magic. That was just meant to be.”

  “Sure,” Nello agreed. Stubborn woman, she thought. Just perfect for my son.

  * * * * *

  At that moment, Torn was sitting in the living room, speaking to his father about serious matters.

  “You could feel that?” he gasped, amazed and slightly embarrassed.

  “Yes. And it probably was right because I didn’t feel it when you were with Zultha.”

  Torn blushed as Fal snickered. Jack and Jill shook their heads at Torn and wondered what Sable would think of this new development.

  “Maybe it is temporary.” Torn added hopefully at his father’s amused, yet miserable look.

  “I pray it so. There are just some things in your life that I need not know about.”

  The others roared with laughter and Torn blushed, hanging his head as he peered at his father through a long fall of curly black hair.

  “So, how did you manage it?” his father finally asked.

  “What?”

  “How did you actually kill that woman without attempting to cleanse her soul?”

  “She was dead the moment she touched Sable,” Jill growled. “I would have killed her myself.”

  “I before you,” Torn sighed, then shook his hair back and looked clearly up at his father. “Father, I had no choice.”

  “But I thought that the Reaver couldn’t…”

  “Father,” Torn interrupted, a new strength in his voice. “I am the Reaver.”

  “But…”

  “We are one and the same. By dividing us, I sought to keep the dark and the light separate in my soul. But as I struggled to hold both of them, the evil one and my beloved, from death, I realized that there can be no dark without the light and that light does not exist without the dark.”

  “You have finally accepted all parts of you,” Terror said with pride as he stared at his son, and the man he had turned into.

  “I did myself harm in trying to separate the two. No one is all good or all evil. If we were, there would be no balance and only chaos would follow.”

  “Chaotic is watching all of you go over the cliff,” Fal added as he again recalled the feelings of despair that existed as they all assumed that Torn, Sable and Zultha were lost.

  “Out of chaos, from great destruction, comes our greatest and most positive change.”

  Everyone looked over at Jill, surprised that such an eloquent thought came from the mouth of the talkative one.

  “What? I am not just another pretty face, you know!” he groused until Jack pulled him tight into his arms and gave him a tight squeeze.

  “You are all more than what you seem,” Terror added, recalling the bravery of the two strange men who stood up to dangers they knew nothing about, all for the love of a friend. Then he turned to Fal, who had once been afraid of his son, but now treated him like the old Torn, albeit, with a lot more respect. And he looked at himself. It almost took a disaster to teach him to listen, to really listen, but finally the lesson was learned. “We are all more than what we seem.”

  “And I am a complete man, Father,” Torn added with a small smile. “A man complete with his woman at his side.”

  “I understand,” Terror sighed, then he let out a huff of laughter. “As I am complete with your mother.”

  Nodding in understanding, Torn felt joy as he knew his father now understood how important Sable was to him, and how much he owed her for coming to the rescue of his only son.

  Torn would be staying here, in this realm with his Sable. And he would finally have the peace that he had wanted his whole entire life.

  “You will visit!” Torn demanded as he stared at his father and smiled. He loved that man so much, and now that love was freely returned. No more guilt clouded his father’s eyes.

  “As will you. Your mother will miss you, Torn…son. You better not break her heart.”

  “I will not. And you are welcome anywhere Sable and I make a home. And our home will always include Jack and Jill.”

  “As if there was ever any doubt,” Jill called out from the sanctuary of his lover’s arms.

  “And I still have a job to do,” Torn stated simply, his inner monster agreeing wholeheartedly.

  “A job?” Now Terror was confused.

  “I am the Reaver, Father. For that purpose I was created, and for that purpose I shall continue.”

  “I don’t want you harming yourself, Torn!” His father was adamant that his son kept the personal peace that he had wrought for himself.

  “It is who I am Father. It is what I was designed for. I cleanse souls. I reave the ones that can’t be mended. But now that I have discovered balance, there is no danger to me of either side winning.”

  Torn seemed content with his answers, Terror decided, and gave one stiff nod. “I just wish, son…”

  “I know,” Torn said with a smile as he heard the bathroom door open. Then all his attention was on his mother who was hauling his beloved into the bedroom.

  Within seconds, he was on his feet and following his beautiful beloved. She would make it all right. She would make everything all right.

  “Guess that ends this conversation,” Terror sighed as he turned to face the trio of men still awake and in the room with him. “What now?”

  “Well, Nello spelled the door and fixed it,” Jill said as he started to turn toward the door but instead fixed his eyes on the window, and the new day that was dawning. “And dawn is cracking,” he snickered. “So I guess we go and get some sleep.”
/>   “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Man, you break in her door without a fare-thee-well, and now you are concerned about overstepping your manners? You tall people are funny!”

  Even Jack had to hold in a shout of laughter at that one, but recovered himself enough to add, “But you are family now. And Sable has enough guest rooms to hold us all.”

  “But…”

  “The place where my thighs meet,” Jill chuckled as he rose to his feet, pulling his partner with him. “And I have it on good authority that mine is extremely cute.”

  Which caused all in the room to have a great laugh.

  Soon, Jack and Jill pointed out all the guest rooms, saw to everyone’s comfort, escorted Nello to her mate as she exited the bedroom, and were soon closing the doors and making for their own bed.

  “I love it that she keeps a room for us,” Jill sighed as he stripped off his still damp clothing and tumbled into bed. A shower could wait until tomorrow. He was surprised he still had his eyes open.

  “I love it that they are all safe,” Jack added.

  “Still believe they are not fairies, love?” Jill asked as his partner climbed into bed and pulled him against his smooth strong chest. God, he loved that man of his.

  “They are from a different realm, whatever that is,” Jack added, recalling the explanations they got out of Torn and Terror that night.

  “Hon, Sable fell in love. They are going to live happily ever after. The big bad witch is dead! If that ain’t a fairy tale ending, I don’t know what is!”

  And Jack was silent. What could he say to that?

  * * * * *

  In the Master bedroom, Sable snuggled deeper into her love’s arms and let sleep overcome her. She had her hero in her arms, they were all safe, she was healed, and the bad guys went bye-bye.

  Torn, on the other hand, buried his face in her hair and breathed in her scent.

  He was a bit shaken as he recalled the look on Zultha’s face as he gripped that rope leash and used his tail to whip at her hands, breaking them, forcing her to let go.

  He recalled the terror in her wide eyes, the open mouth that shouted out in fear at the realization of her own death.