Reaper's Dark Kiss

by Ryssa Edwards

  Marek bowed his head and said, “Of course,” as if the very thought of doing anything else would be the height of ungraciously bad manners.

  The minute hand on the ancient clock ticked through three hundred and nineteen seconds in utter silence until Maggie said, “Seeing the gardens would be nice.”

  Vandar’s fangs came down so quickly and unexpectedly, they cut into his gums. He knew what Marek had done, but he couldn’t say it without inviting a blood fight. He’d been foolish to bring Maggie. Marek, a Remnant, could easily Influence her will, especially for something she wanted as badly as an invitation to the gardens.

  “My lord,” Kraeyl said, nearly ready to spit from the sound of him, “you have the right to challenge. The youngling has clearly been unfairly Influenced.”

  “Prove it,” Vandar said, not turning to his counselor, “or be still.” To Maggie, he said, “If you go to the gardens with Marek—”

  “It would be dishonorable to threaten one so young,” Marek said. “Were I to witness such a thing, I would be honor bound to call on the council to review your actions with a revenant so newly turned. In that time,” he added after a meaningful pause, “the signing of the contract would be delayed while my claim was investigated.”

  Scrutiny from the council was the last thing Vandar wanted. What he did with the young was questionable enough. If Marek wanted them in the gardens, it could only be a ploy to delay the contract, but Vandar saw no way out of it.

  His beast, so rarely heard, rose in a clamor.

  He will sign, or I will make war on him and those he loves.

  “I wouldn’t threaten one so young and so helpless before my powers,” Vandar said. A beat of silence passed while Marek pretended to believe him.

  He will sign, or he and all who follow him will come to know mayhem and horror!

  Feeling as though he were talking over a roaring crowd, Vandar said, “I was only going to remind Maggie of her duty to me. And let her know that she is free to go to the gardens with you. But if she does, she will not be returning to my bed.”

  “The sunlight in the gardens,” Maggie said in a dreamy voice. “They say it’s outside like the noon circle, but it doesn’t burn. It’s been years since I was out in sunlight.” She gave a wistful sigh.

  Even though he knew Maggie wasn’t betraying him on purpose, Vandar wanted to choke the life out of her. His fingers twitched with the urge to wring her neck. His beast rose in her defense with a single word.

  Belayth.

  Just so. This was Marek’s doing. Maggie’s high emotion—her love, gods help him—had made her vulnerable to Marek and his filthy, unseemly tactics.

  “Yes. The sunlight is very beautiful in the gardens.” Marek was already on his feet, offering Maggie a hand. “Come. It won’t take long. Then we shall return here and do as your lord requires of me.”

  The clock chimed out the quarter hour.

  “Marek, you will do no such—” Kraeyl began.

  But Vandar cut him off. What could the reaper do with the mortal female in the fifteen minutes left? “Let us walk with them, counselor,” Vandar said. “It’s been decades since I’ve walked through sunlight from above.”

  Obedient but furious, Kraeyl stood aside to let Marek pass with Maggie.

  The thirst for vengeance gathered in Kraeyl’s eyes convinced Vandar that bad behavior was very much part of his counselor’s agenda for the day.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Sky’s cry of pain ripped into Julian sharper than any blade ever had. He was across the room in a second, holding her hands back from her lips. He should have been able to give her sleep, get her past the pain. But he couldn’t. Time was too short. Vandar dies for this, he thought and said to Sky, “Open your mouth.”

  She slowly parted her lips. Tiny fangs, needle thin, were growing out of her upper and lower teeth.

  Viper hunkered down beside Julian’s bed, giving Sky’s fangs a careful look. “Too thin. If she tries to drink, they’ll break off in your neck. Then they’ll take days to grow in again.”

  “Hurts,” Sky said.

  “Don’t talk,” Julian said. “You could pierce your tongue. Think about your fangs pulling in. Like they were on long strings, and you could tug on them.”

  Sky shut her eyes, wincing. The little fangs receded. “When, Julian?” she asked in her hoarse whisper of a voice. “This thirst. It’s bad.”

  The ground shifted under Julian’s feet. He didn’t stagger, but he came close. In battle, he’d never been caught by indecision. He always knew what to do to win the fight. He always knew what to sacrifice, where to strike, who to bring down.

  If he handed her over to Vandar, he’d make sure Sky didn’t drink from Julian for the next hundred years. If he challenged Vandar to an honor fight, he would laugh and wait for the clock to tick down, and then he’d watch Marek sign the contract.

  Julian couldn’t let that happen.

  He couldn’t.

  Viper’s phone rang. He answered, listened, then ended the call.

  “Marek says to meet him and Vandar in the gardens.”

  “I heard. What are they doing there?”

  “Be Nice To Rebel Heretics Day?” Viper said. “I don’t know. Get Sky. Let’s go.”

  Marek would have known Julian was beyond answering his phone. He’d talked to Viper, but the words had been for Julian. Tell Julian to come armed in his honor.

  When Marek first taught Julian to fight in this world, he’d repeated one thing over and over—a warrior without honor is disarmed and worthless. Marek was telling him not to run, to trust him. But trust him to do what?

  “The stone has the power to ease the pain of the fledgling,” a quiet voice said behind Julian.

  Oracle.

  In moments, Viper and Harli were on either side of Oracle, boxing him in. Julian rose and stood before him. “What do you want?”

  From inside his hood, Oracle said, “I have already told you, Prince. The stone will be of help.”

  “How?” Julian asked. “Will it make her fangs grow in faster?”

  “You younglings make communication so very hard,” Oracle said. “Do you know your brother Vandar has the same difficulty?” He gave a small sigh, as if Julian tired him out. “Deathbringer. Fetch me the stone.”

  Viper, Julian almost told Oracle, didn’t fetch for anyone. But when Viper moved to obey Oracle, meek as a novice Seeker, Julian knew his brother was desperate for a way out of this. If it came down to fighting Marek, they both knew Marek didn’t lose fights. He allowed challengers to walk away with less than lethal injuries. Julian didn’t stand a chance against his brother.

  Careful to use his jacket sleeve to grab it, Viper gave the stone to Oracle, who took it and chipped it free of brick fragments. He rubbed the stone between his palms, getting off the last of the powdery residue. When he held it out in his palm it seemed to give off a satisfied gleam.

  “Why doesn’t it poison you?” Julian asked.

  “This is why I did not allow you to ask questions when my counsel was sought,” Oracle said. “You continually ask about the self-evident.” Oracle tilted his head to one side, his hood pooling against his shoulder. “Your female has swallowed a pin’s head worth of dust made from the stone, yes?”

  “Yes,” Julian said. “After the Dark Kiss. So what? Can it make her fangs grow in or not?” And gods, he wanted to go for his knives and make Oracle tell him.

  Oracle ignored Julian’s question as if an angry reaper were something too minor to acknowledge. He held the stone out and said, “Give this to her.”

  “What time is it?” Julian said to Viper.

  “It is time for you to risk everything you have ever known, reaper,” Oracle said. “And allow love to transform you into a fighter that can never be defeated. Become a rebel of the heart.”

  All of a sudden, Julian knew what to do. He was going to fight for Sky, and he was going to win. How? It didn’t matter, because he loved Sky too much to lose.
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  Wrapping his hand in his sleeve, Julian took the heart stone from Oracle and pressed it to Sky’s lips.

  She let out a sigh of relief and took it into her mouth. “Better,” she whispered.

  “Do not swallow it,” Oracle said. “Keep it in your mouth, as though it were a sweet.”

  A mist as gray as the inside of a silver cloud gathered around Oracle. Then he flickered, and he was gone.

  “What are we doing, brother?” Viper asked in a slow dangerous voice. “The gardens?” He paused. “Or something else?”

  A glance at Sky told Julian her fangs hadn’t started to grow in again yet. The pain would show on her face.

  He knew what “something else” meant to Viper. It meant fight their way out, through as many warriors as they had to, hide in the tunnels with Sky, and run at sundown.

  Tell Julian to come armed in his honor.

  “The gardens,” Julian said and turned to Harli. “You—”

  “I’m going,” Harli said, not quite looking at his guardian. “You can tell me not to if you want, but I’m going with you, Julian. And I’ll fight for you. I don’t care what Marek does to me.”

  “Don’t make a mess in the gardens,” Viper said, drawing a knife. “Marek hates that.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  From in front of her, Julian said, “Stay out of the light, Sky. It’s too soon.”

  Beside her, Viper said, “She’s good.” The long, curved knife in his left hand made Sky think of a gold scimitar with jagged teeth. It glinted in the muted sunlight of the gardens as they passed under the arched entrance. “You stay close to me,” he said to her.

  The stone, cool as ice in her mouth, did more than relieve Sky’s aching throat. It made her feel surprisingly good. The weakness was nearly gone. Her head was clearing.

  Across the garden a small tense group waited: Marek, Vandar, Kraeyl, and a young female Shade. Kraeyl watched Marek with a flat expression of hate, as if he carried a blank death scroll waiting for Marek’s name to be written in blood. Marek was talking and pointing up at the glass panels in the cavernous roof. Even with her new hearing, Sky made out only the modulated tones of a tour guide who loved his job. But only the girl was looking up, as if she’d never seen glass before.

  At a nod from Julian, Harli flew up to a ledge, then melted into the dark.

  Julian, Sky, and Viper came to a stop almost directly across from Marek, separated by a wide cobblestone path. Vandar and Kraeyl stood close together, slightly apart from Marek and Maggie.

  “Empty,” Sky whispered, taking in the deserted paths, the undisturbed trees, the lonesome benches. “Why?”

  “Not empty,” Viper said. “Out of sight.”

  “Thank you for coming, brother,” Marek said.

  Julian looked ready to bring down hellfire and wrath on Vandar’s head. “Slow day,” he said. “No vampires to reap.” He moved his gaze deliberately to Vandar. “Things are picking up.”

  “You’re looking well, SkyLynne.” Marek bowed to Sky as if she’d shown up at his mansion for dinner wearing a tiara and diamonds.

  If they were here to sign a contract, Sky didn’t see any pens or paper. Marek directed his attention to a ledge slightly to Julian’s left and said, “Harlique. Come and guard the female.”

  When Harli jumped down from a ledge behind them, Marek said, “The youngling has no part in this. Take her.”

  Vandar moved in front of her. “Maggie remains with me,” he said.

  Waiting a beat too long to speak, just long enough for Vandar to brace for resistance, Marek said, “Do you truly want the youngling on the battleground?” He took a tactful step away. “The choice is yours.”

  Battleground? A fight was one thing, but people died in battles.

  A moment of hesitation kept Vandar silent until he said, “There will be no battle this day. The reaper will give me what is mine.”

  As if he’d just thought of it, Marek said, “In the remaining time, it is our brother’s right to challenge you to an honor fight.” He made it sound as if doing that would be the stupidest thing in the world, but as king, he had to put it out there.

  What was Marek doing? Couldn’t he see murder in Julian’s eyes?

  Julian picked up Marek’s cue and shrugged out of his duster, tossed it toward a boulder. He unbuttoned his shirt in a blink and flung it toward his duster. A double harness crisscrossed his broad back, rigid with muscle. Two ivory hilts lay snug against leather.

  “Sky,” Julian said over his shoulder as he moved forward. “Stay with Viper.”

  “No.” Sky tried to pull away from Viper’s sudden manacle-like grip on her wrist. She pushed the stone to one side in her mouth and tried to make her voice louder. “Don’t fight your brother over me.” That was stupid. Julian was too mad to care.

  “Stop talking so much,” Julian said. “Your throat will get worse.”

  “She’s not going anywhere,” Viper said, as if Sky hadn’t spoken.

  Maybe Vandar got up to bad shit, and Sky knew he’d killed people, but draining was a sickness, and he didn’t want to do it. She knew that because just before Vandar looked away, she’d seen something totally unexpected in his eyes. Whoever Maggie was, he cared about her. And if he cared about even one person, could he be all that bad? In that moment, Sky knew Vandar didn’t want her. It wasn’t personal. If he could have collected her blood and left, he would have.

  She dredged her memory and came up with something she was sure would stop Julian. “Won’t stay with Viper,” she said in her rasping voice. “Don’t want to. Can’t force me.”

  Julian stopped and turned to Sky, as if he were trying to puzzle out what she meant. “That was before,” he said, patient as a teacher explaining the rules on the first day of school. “You’re a Shadow Worlder now. You’re bonded to me.” He turned away, concentrating on Vandar across from them. “You’re staying with Viper.”

  A thrill of fear rippled through Sky. She had a sudden, terrifying insight. Julian had been waiting for this fight for a long time, maybe centuries. He was like a man who’d been holding his breath, and now, finally, he could exhale.

  Julian took a step toward Vandar. “I challenge.”

  Sky planted her feet and gave a tremendous heave. Her wrist slipped about a centimeter in Viper’s grip. “I won’t drink from you,” she tried to shout from her ravaged throat. Tears of pain pricked her eyes. “Julian! Do you hear me?”

  “You won’t have a choice,” he said, not looking back. “Viper. Take her.”

  Vandar pushed Maggie toward Harli, who moved his arms carefully around her, stepped back, then flew up to a ledge with her. Before Sky knew it, Viper’s arms came around her from behind. Her feet left the ground, and she found herself flying up and back. They landed on a ledge just feet away from Maggie and Harli. The vampire stood stock-still in Harli’s grip, not taking her gaze from Vandar.

  “My lord,” Kraeyl said, “this is a deception.”

  Of course it was a trick. Even Sky, the newest Shade in the gardens, knew that.

  “You have but to wait two minutes,” Kraeyl went on, “and Marek will be constrained to sign the contract.”

  But Sky heard something running through his words, not a lie exactly, more like he was saying something he almost believed, but not quite.

  “There are unseen eyes watching,” Vandar said. “If I wait, it will be known throughout my empire that I am a coward. It will be said I hesitate to stain my blade, preferring to hide behind ink spilled on parchment. How long, counselor, do you think I would stand as Lord of the Dominion if that were to be said?”

  Oh, Sky thought. Damn good trick. If what a guy needed was for two brothers to fight.

  “Only the young would dare say such things,” Kraeyl said. “I would seek them out and execute them.”

  “And if you murdered the young for speaking out—”

  Kraeyl didn’t let Marek finish. “The council recognizes the Dominion as sovereign,” he said.


  “‘Sovereign’ does not mean sanctioned murder of the young and defenseless,” Marek said mildly. “I would not send a reaper after you. I would come for you myself, Vazzago.”

  “Govern yourself and your threats,” Kraeyl said, “lest you endanger the much-vaunted rumors of your honor-loving ways.”

  Oh God, Sky thought. If those two fight, it would go nuclear.

  “It appears, counselor, that a Creed warrior has challenged me to an honor fight,” Vandar said. “If you are not too much engaged at present in goading a king within the confines of his stronghold, I ask you to bear witness.”

  “He is barely a usurper, let alone a king,” Kraeyl said. “He turns his back on an entire world that lays at our feet, ripe for the plundering. He is fit only to lead the feeble to hide under cover of darkness.”

  If that was Kraeyl with a conscience—what Marek called a veil—Sky couldn’t imagine him without one.

  Marek, who had never been anything but the soul of gracious toward Sky, said in an oddly gentle voice, “Vazzago, in deference to SkyLynne’s presence, I have borne your insults. However, should your tongue outrun common courtesy again this day, I will, without warning, and with all apologies to your lord, rip out your throat and plunge my dagger into your left eye.”

  “He wouldn’t really, would he?” Sky barely mouthed the words from her agonized throat.

  Into her ear, Viper said, “Kraeyl wouldn’t see it coming.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “You know how ill-tempered our brother can be, counselor,” Vandar said in an utter deadpan voice. “If it would not overly trouble you, I ask you to defer your death until after you have done me the service of standing witness to the honor fight.”

  Kraeyl turned shamefaced and bowed his head to Vandar. “I am at your pleasure, my lord.”

  “Take your place.” Vandar shrugged out of his leather vest and let it fall at his feet. He was built like a pro-wrestler, Sky saw, a young one who was still in prime shape to do some hardcore ass kicking.