Winged Reaper

by Shelley Russell Nolan

  I heard movement behind me and spun around, hovering protectively over Logan’s body.

  Talaom stalked towards me, dark and brooding, features hazy. He was in the astral plane with me.

  ‘For every day you delay us a person close to you will die, and each death will be laid at your door.’ He smirked.

  ‘You won’t get away with this.’

  ‘We have been getting away with this for centuries. You and your pet detective are no match for us. In fact, he might be the next to die.’

  A chill wind swept through my diaphanous body. ‘Leave Sam alone.’

  ‘Give Malia what she wants and your boyfriend will be safe. Cross us and you’ll lose everyone you care about. Your friends, your family, even your work colleagues. They’ll all die and you’ll get the blame for their murders. Malia will take everything from you, and with nothing left to live for you’ll beg us to kill you too.’

  ‘I will never give Malia what she wants.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so hasty to throw down the gauntlet. Sleep on it, watch as Grimm’s Wraiths continue to feed on the people of Easton, and then decide if your miserable life is worth the cost to preserve it.’ He clapped his hands and a swarm of dark reapers swooped over me, the wind raised from their passing whipping through me like a blast of artic cold.

  I spun around. An empty hole gaped where Logan’s soul should have been. The knife that had been used to kill him was also gone. The draw of my physical body kicked in and I was dragged back to Chris’s apartment, my Tr’lirian escort shadowing me the entire way.

  I floated through the roof and my spirits lifted at the sight of Sam. He sat on the bed beside my body, stroking my hair. I choked out his name and he frowned, eyes scanning the room. I reconnected with my body and waited impatiently for my senses to return and my muscles to react.

  Sam helped me sit up and I clutched his arms. ‘Malia had Logan killed, and I’m going to get the blame for it.’

  ‘Miller is dead?’

  I nodded. ‘He was lying in the middle of the hockey fields, the ones at Archer Park. He had a knife sticking out of his chest and I think it’s the one I used to slice up a couple of bananas this morning.’

  ‘How could you tell? Lots of people would have the same knives, and why are you so sure Malia had Miller murdered?’

  ‘Talaom was there and five winged Tr’lirians.’ I looked into Sam’s worried eyes. ‘He said you could be next.’

  ‘I already told you, I’m not that easy to get rid of.’

  I frowned. ‘This is serious, Sam. You could die, and so could everyone else I care about. Talaom said they would kill someone every twenty-four hours, unless I hand myself over to them. How many more innocent people are going to die because of me?’

  Sam stood, pulling me up with him, his hands gripping my elbows. ‘None of this is your fault. You haven’t hurt anyone. All these deaths, they’re on Malia and Grimm. Not you.’

  Intellectually, I knew he was right, but that didn’t lessen the guilt I felt over every death since Grimm had first turned me into a reaper. ‘If I give myself up, I can save people. I don’t want you to die, Sam.’

  ‘I won’t, I promise.’ He wrapped his arms around me. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  Though I let him comfort me, drew strength from his touch, I knew a simple promise wouldn’t keep him safe. Only I could do that.

  After a moment, Sam let go and started to pace. ‘If it was your knife that killed Logan, how did Talaom get access to it?’

  ‘He’s a full-blooded Tr’lirian. He can enter the astral plane whenever he wants and slip through walls. No amount of locks could keep him out.’ I gasped. ‘Connor and Rhonda, I left them at the flat.’ I launched myself off the bed, racing to the door and wrenching it open.

  ‘Don’t panic,’ said Sam as he followed me. ‘You don’t know that anything has happened to them. Your stepmother is Tr’lirian. She’d be able to use the astral plane, just like Talaom.’

  I raced into the lounge, snatched my handbag off the coffee table and pulled out my phone. Hands shaking, I dialled Connor’s number. ‘Connor can’t, and Malia wants his body for Almorthanos.’ I clutched the phone, listening to it ring, holding my breath. After ten rings it stopped, and I feverishly dialled Rhonda’s phone, only to get the same result.

  ‘They’re not answering. She’s got them.’

  ‘Maybe they just turned their phones off, to have some mother and son bonding time.’ Even as he said it, the look on his face told me he didn’t believe it. ‘We’ll go to your flat. See if we can find them.’

  ‘What is it? What’s happening?’

  I’d forgotten all about Chris. He stood in front of the large window in the dining area, a frown on his face as he looked from Sam to me.

  Sam started to reply but his mobile rang and he moved away to answer it.

  I filled Chris in on what I’d found when I’d been called to reap and said, ‘Talaom has to have been in my flat. When Sam picked me up this morning Connor and Rhonda were there, and now I can’t contact them.’

  Chris strode forward. ‘Lockwood’s right. No need to panic until we know what we’re dealing with.’

  ‘Tyler.’ Sam’s voice was tight and I spun around, hand to my mouth as I prepared myself for bad news.

  ‘They’ve found Miller. I have to go, make sure there’s nothing at the scene that links you to him.’ His jaw clenched. ‘I’ll do my best to keep your name out of the investigation, but if anyone else, a witness, friend or family member, mentions your name I’ll have to bring you in for questioning.’

  I nodded. ‘Of course, thank you.’ I gave him a grateful smile, aware a simple thank you would never make up for what he was about to do. His decision to shield me from the investigation not only risked his reputation and career, it went against everything he stood for. I would reward that loyalty in the only way I could, by making sure he never became a casualty of Malia’s machinations.

  I took a deep breath and crossed over to him, not caring that Chris was watching as I placed my hands behind Sam’s neck and kissed him goodbye. Both of us were breathing heavily when the kiss ended. Then Sam looked over my head at Chris.

  ‘Take her to the flat, but do not leave her side. If anything happens to her –’

  ‘It won’t, I promise.’

  ‘I’m holding you to that.’

  ‘I don’t need Chris to babysit me.’

  Sam cupped my face. ‘He can see into the astral plane. You can’t. I need to know you’re safe or I can’t go and do my job. Promise me you’ll stay with Bradbury?’

  I took a deep breath, aware of what he had already given up for me, and gave a slow nod. He kissed me again, a quick, hard, hungry kiss, and then he was gone and I was left to face Chris.

  ‘Shall we go?’ Chris’s face was suspiciously bland as he scooped up his keys and strode to the front door.

  An awkward silence filled the elevator as it took us to the hotel’s underground car park. Finally, as he drove out into traffic, Chris adjusted his sunglasses and flashed me a sad smile. ‘Don’t you think you’ve punished me enough?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean?’

  ‘You’re doing exactly what I did. Kissing that woman at Remy’s Black Cat Club to make you jealous, asking Sarah out on a date instead of you after the last time I caught you kissing Lockwood. You’re punishing me for lying to you.’

  I shook my head. ‘My kissing Sam has got nothing to do with punishing you.’

  ‘Really? Because, I have to say, seeing you in his arms is killing me.’ Chris stopped the car for a red light. He removed his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes before looking at me. ‘I wish to God I’d been honest with you from the start. Maybe everything would have turned out different and looking at you wouldn’t make me feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest.’

  I dropped my eyes, not liking the effect his pain was having on me. I did not owe him anything. I took a deep breath and stared straight into hi
s reddened eyes. ‘I’m sorry if you’re hurting but we can’t go back in time, and you and I were never together. A couple of kisses, that’s all it was, and only because of the situation throwing us together all the time.’

  ‘Like it is now?’

  I huffed out a sigh. ‘The only reason I’m in this car with you is because I promised Sam and, like it or not, we need your help. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you for the part you played in my mother’s death, or for lying about it.’

  ‘Don’t I get credit for telling you everything when you asked me for the truth?’

  ‘You only came clean because Killian forced your hand. You would never have told me otherwise.’

  ‘And we’d still be together,’ he said with a wry smile before putting his sunglasses back on. ‘You see why I might have been hesitant to reveal all.’ The light changed to green and he drove through the intersection.

  While I couldn’t deny I’d been attracted to Chris from the start and I’d enjoyed his kisses, there had always been a part of me that doubted his intentions. When he’d declared his love for me the first time, I hadn’t been able to block the thought he was more in love with my necklace than me. He’d even admitted his initial interest in me had been sparked by his recognition of it and all it represented.

  But none of that mattered. ‘You and I were never together, and my future is with Sam,’ I said.

  The car halted at a stop sign and he looked over at me, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. ‘Lockwood’s a cop. Discovering the truth and serving justice are what he lives for. He’s never going to be able to reconcile that part of him with your life as a reaper.’

  I didn’t reply as Chris started driving again, not liking the picture he was presenting or the questions it posed in my head. But the fear Sam would one day reject me paled in comparison to the fear I would fail to save him if I didn’t find a way to access my necklace’s full capabilities.

  I needed to be able to get to the core, find a way to use the power Malia had hoarded. If I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t keep everyone I cared about safe. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms, wanting to block out the image that appeared in my head, of Sam lying dead in a field. I would not let that happen. No matter what I had to do, I would keep him safe.

  Time ran out for me to come up with a solution to all my problems. We had arrived at the flat.

  Connor’s car was still parked behind mine and as Chris pulled in at the kerb I could see that the front door of the flat was open.

  I steeled myself for what I would find inside.

  20

  I reeled; the sight of my lounge room hitting me like a physical blow. Barely conscious of Chris’s presence, I stepped into the ruin that had been my home.

  The couch and armchairs were upside down, the lining slashed to ribbons, cushions ripped apart and stuffing strewn everywhere. The coffee table had also been demolished, one leg resting on top of the shattered remains of my television. Every DVD and CD I owned had been broken in half and dumped in the middle of the floor, the cases cracked.

  My eyes stung, and I wrinkled my nose at the stench as I moved further inside, gagging on the fumes of what smelt like paint mixed with spoiled milk and rotten eggs. Glass crunched under my feet as I stepped around the remnants of an armchair and saw the fridge on its side, door open, contents left to leak out all over the linoleum. My empty knife block sat in the middle of the dining table, the only piece of furniture left intact, all the chairs around it smashed beyond repair.

  Eggs had been cracked and smeared all over the kitchen bench tops, left to rot in the heat of the day, and I retched, stumbling towards the hall.

  Chris caught my arm. ‘Let me go first,’ he said.

  I was too distressed to protest, following blindly behind him, my feet catching on the contents of the linen cupboard. Every towel I owned had been shredded and dumped in the middle of the hall, useless even as rags.

  Chris scanned the bathroom and then the laundry before disappearing into my room.

  Each step I took felt like it covered thousands of miles, time slowing as I approached the door to my room. I averted my eyes from the bathroom, but caught a glimpse of the cracked mirror and the bathroom tiles smeared in makeup. I turned away, not wanting to see any more, helpless to keep myself from continuing on.

  The laundry had received the same treatment, the tap in the tub beside the washing machine left on. Water flowed over the sides to pool on the floor and spill out in all directions. The carpet under my feet squelched as I trudged to where Chris stood, blocking the doorway of my bedroom, the expression in his eyes telling me my personal belongings had not been spared. I tried to brush passed him, but he caught my arm.

  ‘You don’t want to see it.’

  ‘Is it Rhonda?’ Dread pooled in my stomach, mixing with nausea from the worsening paint smell. I’d never grown to love my stepmother, but I didn’t want her to die, and I’m sure she would never have let anyone take Connor while she was alive.

  ‘There’s no one here.’

  I shook off his arm and this time he didn’t stop me entering. A split-second later I wished he’d held me back and forced me to walk out of the flat. My room was red, the bed, walls and even the ceiling covered in a thick red substance. At first I thought it was blood, but my bemused brain finally recognised it as the source of the cloying paint smell.

  Only patches of carpet near the door and parts of the curtains had been spared.

  The wardrobe doors were open and a film of red coated every piece of clothing I owned. Even the shoes were ruined. I had nothing left and still no clue as to what had happened to Connor and Rhonda. I dreaded what answers I would find when I forced myself to look inside Sarah’s old room. I stumbled along beside Chris as we made our way to the end of the hall.

  The bedroom door was closed and Chris reached for the handle.

  ‘No. I’ll do it,’ I said, swallowing down my fear and the urge to vomit as I twisted the handle and pushed the door open.

  I blinked, unable to take it in.

  The room was immaculate; all of Rhonda’s belongings untouched. I glanced down the hall, casting bleak eyes over the destruction of everything that made the flat my home, and then back into the pristine environment in front of me.

  It made no sense, a bizarre oasis in the middle of chaos. Was this a message, a way of showing me Rhonda was still alive but I was doomed?

  The front door slammed shut, setting my heart racing. I bolted down the hallway as fast as I could without getting tangled up in the ruined linen, Chris at my heels.

  ‘Connor. Rhonda. Is that you?’ I burst into the lounge, eyes frantically scanning the room, only to be yanked backwards by Chris.

  A knife banged into the wall just in front of me and then fell to the floor.

  ‘What the hell?’

  Four men appeared in the middle of the lounge, all with dark hair and swarthy features. Talaom’s men. They had to be.

  I had no time to think, only react as four more knives were flung at us.

  Fingers clutching my necklace, its heartbeat throbbing throughout my body, I thrust out my free hand and pushed at the air in front of me. I had no idea what I was doing, only that it felt right.

  The effect was instantaneous. Three of the knives bounced off an invisible barrier, falling harmlessly to the ground. The fourth had been thrown high, sailing over top of the barrier and hitting the ceiling above me. Its point clipped my right forearm as it fell to the floor. I winced at the sting but did not take my eyes off the Tr’lirians.

  Eyes wide, they stared at me, shock on their faces.

  One of them stepped forward. ‘Get her,’ he roared as he charged towards me, slipping into the astral plane as he went. The others followed suit, rendering them invisible to me.

  I focused on my barrier, willing it to expand, strengthen, so that it covered the opening. I could see a slight shimmer in the air as it obeyed my command and I hoped it would be enough to stop the
m breaking through.

  I heard a grunt, followed by a whoosh of air being forced out of lungs as one of them collided with the barrier. More grunts, pained groans and curses followed. I could feel them pushing, searching for weakness. Muscles tense, sweat beading on my brow, I fought to hold my creation in place.

  Several long minutes later the pressure lifted and silence filled the flat, but I did not drop the barrier until Chris put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘they’ve gone.’

  I sagged against the wall, exhaling loudly.

  ‘How the hell did you do that?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t even know what it was I did, let alone how. I just wanted to stop the knives from hitting us.’

  ‘It was aether, at least that’s what it looked like. A solid wall of it.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘But I’ve never heard of anyone being able to manipulate it like that.’

  ‘What about Grimm?’

  ‘He can build whatever he wants out of nether, it’s what the Underworld is made of after all. But he can’t utilise the positive energies.’

  ‘Which is why he only wants the souls of those who have died violent deaths.’

  Chris gave a bleak smile. ‘Exactly.’ Then he frowned. ‘You’re hurt.’

  I inspected the cut on my arm. Two centimetres long, it wasn’t deep but it was bleeding. I pushed off the wall and went into the bathroom, feet squelching as I reached over and turned off the tap in the basin. Then I searched the floor for my first aid kit. I always kept it in the cupboard under the basin but who knew where it was now.

  ‘Looking for this?’ Chris handed me the small white container with the red cross on the lid and I hunted inside it for an antiseptic wipe and a bandage. After I’d treated the cut I glanced at the cracked mirror.

  My heartbeat stuttered and I gripped the bench as my knees threatened to buckle.

  A death’s head, bisected by cracks, started back at me.

  I wanted to believe it was Grimm, playing tricks on my eyes, but the way the skull moved, mirroring my every movement, I knew what this meant. Just like the young woman in the bathroom and the other patrons at the steakhouse, this was a portent.