Winged Reaper
Page 15
‘If you do that, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll reap your soul; destroy any hope you have of rebirth.’
‘I’d rather that than to live without you,’ Chris said.
‘Enough of this.’ Cade swung his sword.
The hilt slammed into Chris’s head. He dropped to the floor, eyes closed, blood streaming from a gash on his temple.
Killian released me and I fell to my knees beside Chris, feverishly checking his pulse. A strong and steady beat calmed my fears. Cade crouched down beside me, his wings casting shadows over Chris’s unconscious body.
‘The sooner you are dead and gone from my son’s life the better,’ he said.
‘You won’t let him kill himself after I die?’ I asked, refusing to be cowered by his hatred.
‘We take care of our own. You no longer need concern yourself with him.’ He stood and two of his men scooped Chris up.
I remained on the floor as I watched them carry Chris to his bedroom, shutting the door behind them, closing a chapter of my life at the same time. I dragged myself to my feet, striving to keep all emotion out of my voice and off my face. ‘Let’s do this.’
I strode over to the table and scooped up my phone, dialling Talaom’s number. ‘You’ve had enough time to come up with a place,’ I said the second the call went through, not giving whoever was on the other end time to speak.
‘The hall at the hockey grounds,’ said Talaom. ‘You have ten minutes.’
I hung up the phone and turned to Cade. ‘Time to go.’
I scooped up Connor’s car keys and then travelled down to the underground car park with Rhonda and Killian. Cade’s insurance, Killian slipped into the astral plane as soon as he took a seat in the back of Connor’s car. He would ride with us to the hockey grounds and rendezvous with Cade. The rest of his Tr’lirians were to station themselves around the hall, ready to annihilate Malia and Almorthanos once they were in their new bodies.
Rhonda and I did not speak as I drove to the hockey grounds, and it wasn’t just Killian’s invisible presence in the backseat that stilled our tongues.
What do you say to someone at a time like this?
But this would be the last time I would ever see the woman who had been my stepmother for almost my entire life. As I waited at the lights at the end of the bridge, waiting to take the right hand turn that would lead me closer to my final death, I glanced over at her.
‘What will you do now?’ I asked.
She shrugged, the glow from the dash doing little to illuminate her silhouette. ‘Move, I guess. Take Connor and find a place where no one knows us, build a new life.’ She turned to face me, her expression bleak. ‘I’m betraying my clan. Any one of them would kill me on sight if they were to find out what I’ve done.’
‘What about Dad?’
She snorted. ‘He can rot in that stinking armchair of his for all I care, or find himself a new wife to be at his beck and call. I am done with him.’
‘Connor might not feel the same way.’
‘Connor will adapt to life without his father. He will have no choice.’
The traffic light changed to green and I drove around the corner. Three sets of lights later I turned left, heading for the small side street that wound around the hockey grounds. After Killian slipped out, I pulled into the car park beside Talaom’s car. The large doors on the side of the hall were open, and I could see several figures grouped together in the middle.
I switched off the ignition. ‘Maybe you should stay in the car,’ I said to Rhonda.
‘Like hell I will. I’m not sitting back while my son’s life is in danger.’ She climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut.
I got out and joined her, glad she was with me, a bitter sweet smile on my face. This would be the first time we’d stood side by side for anything.
Without giving myself time to think, I strode towards the hall, eager to finish this once and for all, comforted to know my enemies would go down with me.
26
My eyes went to Sam first. He sat in a chair, thick ropes pinning his arms to his sides. Malia stood beside him, one hand on his shoulder. When she saw me watching she grabbed a handful of his hair with both hands and wrenched his head up before covering his mouth with her own. Sam tossed his head, but she tightened her grip, forcing him to endure her foul kiss.
When she finally released him she ran a hand over her lips, and gave me a sultry smile. ‘He really is quite delicious. It will be a shame to let him go before I have fully enjoyed the delights his body has to offer. Perhaps once you are dead I can persuade him to return to my bed.’
‘Never going to happen,’ said Sam before I could respond. He spat at her feet. ‘You taste like shit.’
Malia’s face darkened and she slapped him across the face. His head rocked back from the force of her blow, but he made no sound. She lifted her hand, ready to hit him again and I took a step forward, both hands on my necklace.
‘Leave him alone.’
Malia glared at me, but did lower her hand. Her eyes flicked to Rhonda, who had moved to where Connor was also tied to a chair.
‘Rallani, you disappoint me. I never thought you would betray me like this, siding with your stepdaughter over your own clan.’
‘I’m not siding with her. I’m here for my son.’
I flinched at Rhonda’s words, though I’d known all along Connor was her priority.
Malia laughed; a dark and twisted laugh that sent a chill down my spine. ‘Poor little Tyler. Nobody loves her. Everybody is just waiting for her to die.’
‘I love her,’ Sam’s steady gaze met mine. He turned his gaze on Malia. ‘You’re nothing, a pale imitation, a knock-off. Only Tyler is the real deal.’
‘Silence,’ Malia roared at Sam, hitting him across the face over and over again.
I jumped forward, only to have Talaom spring out of nowhere and block my path. He pushed me back. I stumbled and fell to the ground, while he spun around and pulled Malia away from Sam.
‘That’s enough. We have a trade to make, or have you forgotten why we are here.’
Malia wrenched herself out of his grasp and straightened her dress. She still wore the white dress from the Underworld and it swirled around her feet with each movement as she fought to control her emotions.
Features contorted with rage, she pointed at me. ‘I want that bitch dead, now.’
I grabbed my necklace and climbed to my feet as I was surrounded by black winged Tr’lirians. ‘Anyone touches me before the trade is made and I will destroy every one of your souls. You know I can do it,’ I said to Talaom. ‘You saw what I did to your Wraiths on top of Mount Pilbeam.’
He gave a sharp nod, and the Tr’lirians moved back three metres. ‘They will not harm you, as long as you live up to your end of our bargain,’ he said.
‘I will, as long as you do the same.’
He gave another nod and two of the Tr’lirians left the circle around me, knives appearing in their hands. They moved over to Sam and Connor, cutting the ropes that bound them. Rhonda helped Connor to his feet and pulled him towards the nearest door.
‘I’m not leaving,’ he said, wrenching his arm free. ‘Tyler needs me.’
‘You have to leave,’ I said, before Rhonda could speak, ‘and you’re taking Sam with you.’
Sam had gotten to his feet and was trying to get to my side, but the Tr’lirians surrounding me kept shoving him back. Blood tricked from the corner of his mouth, yet he refused to back down.
‘You have to go, Sam. Please, I have to know you are okay.’
‘Not happening.’ He ducked under a wing, quick strides bringing him to my side. He took me in his arms, shaking his head slightly as he gazed down at me. ‘You’re crazy if you think I’d leave you alone with this lot.’ He dipped his head, lips finding mine.
I savoured the taste of him, the strength of the arms holding me. I pressed my body against his, losing myself in his kiss. When our lips parted we remained in each othe
r’s arms, content in that moment to just be.
I pulled back, not wanting to let go but needing to see his face, look into his eyes once last time. ‘Please, Sam. I need you to leave.’
He gave me a grim smile, cradling my face in his hands. ‘I am not walking away from you, ever. I know you made a deal with these people but I didn’t, and there is no way I’m going to let them hurt you. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You got that?’
I stifled a sob, wishing there was some way I could make it through this alive and have a future with Sam. But I knew it was an impossible wish. I was going to die, and the best I could hope for was that Sam not be hurt in the process.
I managed a nod, even forced out a tremulous smile, and he moved until we stood side by side, holding hands.
His body was tense as he surveyed the room. ‘Where’s Bradbury?’
‘He tried to stop me, so I had to knock him out.’ I couldn’t tell him what really happened, not with Malia and Talaom watching on
Sam snorted. ‘You realise I’m going to have to kill him next time I see him. I told him to keep you safe.’
I smiled through my tears and Sam squeezed my hand. I marshalled my courage and looked over at Malia. ‘I want Emily back, now.’
Malia glared at me, but gave Talaom a nod. He made a signal with his hand and a winged Tr’lirian appeared beside him, a young woman hanging limp in his arms. She had short, spiky brown hair and as the Tr’lirian laid her on the ground in front of Malia I saw blood on the back of her shirt.
I swallowed down my revulsion. The blood stains were positioned where her wings had once been and from the bruising around her neck, and on what I could see of her arms, she had not given them up willingly.
My resolve to see Malia destroyed strengthened as she lay herself down on the floor beside the unconscious woman.
I couldn’t see the reaper that took her soul, but I saw the effect it had. Malia’s body arched up, a gasp escaping her lips, followed by an agonised scream. It was less painful for the other woman, already unconscious and spared the agony of having her soul ripped out. My actions had led to this atrocity. My suggestion had seen her stripped of her wings and her body.
I tore my eyes away from her face, focusing on Emily’s body, waiting for some sign it had reunited with her soul, waiting for her to come back to life. Malia’s new body stirred first, a process as painful to watch as the extraction of her soul had been, and my heart ached for the pain Emily would soon feel.
Talaom helped Malia to her feet and she winced as she ran her hands over her new body. ‘Somebody get me something to dull the pain. I’d forgotten how much having your wings ripped off hurts.’ She stripped off the blood stained shirt and dropped it on the floor, a look of distaste of her face as she inspected the pink vest that covered her breasts. ‘And find me some new clothes while you’re at it.’
Talaom immediately pulled off his shirt, revealing a muscular bronzed chest. He offered his shirt to Malia but she shook her head, eyes gleaming, as she stretched out a hand and traced the trail of dark hairs that led down to the waistband of his jeans.
He stood there, towering over her, smirking at me until Malia dropped her hand. He flung his shirt over one shoulder.
Malia stepped over Emily’s body and confronted me. ‘Satisfied?’
‘Not until I know Emily is alive and well.’
Emily groaned, and then wailed as the pain of reconnecting with her body hit. I let go of Sam’s hand and rushed to her side, helping her to sit up.
She blinked, eyes confused as she gazed around the hall. ‘Where am I?’
‘It’s okay, Emily. You’re going to be okay.’
Her expression cleared when her eyes met mine. ‘I had the weirdest dream. I was fast asleep, dreaming about your brother, and all a sudden I was screaming and everything went black and when I came to I was floating in space, surrounded by billions of stars, and it was so cold. It felt like I was hanging there for hours, in the darkness, and then the pain came back and I woke up here.’ She cast another look around the hall. ‘Or am I still dreaming?’
I smiled, her stream of words convincing me this truly was Emily. I hugged her, tears filling my eyes, happy at least one thing had gone right ... I had one family member, besides Connor, who cared for me. Now for the rest.
I helped Emily to her feet and led her over to Connor. ‘Take care of her for me,’ I said.
He gave me a solemn nod, wrapping an arm around her waist.
I kissed him on the cheek. ‘Your mother is right. You have to leave. You have to get as far away from here as possible, and take Emily with you.’
‘I’m not going to desert you, Tyler.’
‘You’re not deserting me. You’re fulfilling my last wish. Now go, before this lot try to stop you.’
He wrapped his free arm around me and hugged me so hard I was sure I’d be bruised. He let go, firming his grip on Emily and leading her from the hall. Rhonda followed them, stopping at the door and looking at me.
‘Thank you,’ she said, and then she too was gone. Moments later I heard the familiar roar of Connor’s engine as he sped away into the night.
I took Sam’s hand once more. ‘Who will be Almorthanos’s host?’ I dreaded the thought another unwilling Tr’lirian would be stripped of their wings and their life because of the deal I had made to save Connor.
‘I will,’ said Talaom, stepping up to stand beside Malia, ‘in return for the privilege of killing you.’ His hand whipped up.
Sam shouted my name, tugging on my hand as he moved to shove me behind him, even as something slammed into my chest, pushing me backwards. He leaned over me, horror in his hazel eyes. Only then did I realise I was on the floor. People crowded in around Sam; Talaom holding a gun, Malia a gleeful smile on her face, two winged Tr’lirians who latched on to Sam’s arms and dragged him away.
Then I saw him. The Grim Reaper, come to collect my soul.
The Tr’lirians parted, averting their eyes from where he stalked towards me. His voluminous cloak billowed around him, hood obscuring his face. A skeletal hand gripped his scythe and the mist followed in his wake, a roiling sea of nether that blocked the hall and everyone in it from view. All I could see was the Grim Reaper as his bony fingers pulled back his hood to expose his skull.
Fire burned in his empty eye sockets and his jaw creaked as a maniacal laugh boomed out of him. ‘This is going to hurt,’ he said as he gripped my neck and squeezed.
I screamed, back arching, heels drumming on the ground as he ripped my soul out of my dying body.
Everything went black.
27
Consciousness dribbled in piece by piece. I couldn’t move, couldn’t open my eyes, unable to do anything to alleviate the pain wracking my body. Deafened by the screaming in my head, I begged for the sweet mercy of oblivion.
Hands gripped me, digging into the flesh on my lower legs and dragging me across the ground. Icy fingers poked and nipped at my body, a cold burn left in their wake. Whoever had been dragging me shifted their grip to my ankles and wrenched them up in the air, suspending me upside down. Frozen hands covered my eyes, and when they were removed I could once again see.
I hung over a black chasm, dim light flashing off jagged needles of ice that jutted out of the walls. Nether roiled and swirled amongst the ice, constantly moving, obscuring what lay at the bottom of the chasm. The black mist expanded, bursting out of the chasm, over and around me.
My paralysis ended and I twisted my head, looking up and meeting the Grim Reaper’s malevolent stare.
‘Told you it would hurt,’ he said, a cruel smirk thinning his lips even further. ‘You’re here in the flesh. Ripping you out of the physical world was the only way we could guarantee your necklace wouldn’t resurrect you. What happens to you here is real, no illusion, and I have an eternity to make you regret crossing me.’ He let go of my ankles.
The scream trapped in my head burst out of my mouth, its echo following me as I
fell, arms flailing, down, down, down, to the bottom of the Underworld.
I slammed into the ground, splinters of ice piercing my skin. I lay on my back, body twisted, waves of agony sweeping over me, forced to watch as the Grim Reaper, nether wrapped around his skeletal form, landed lightly beside me.
He flicked his wrist and nether swarmed over me, grabbing hold of my broken limbs. I arched my back and screamed as they pulled and twisted my body back into shape. Then they let go and I flopped, gulping in air as the pain in my mended body ebbed away with excruciating slowness.
‘On your feet, reaper.’ The Grim Reaper kicked me in the ribs, forcing the air out of my lungs, and I rolled to the left when he kicked out at me again.
Clutching my side, I dragged myself to my feet, staggering and almost falling as pain shot through my chest with each movement. His kick must have cracked some of my ribs. But as bad as the pain was, I refused to cower before him. I straightened, unable to stop myself from groaning at the fresh wave of agony that swept over me.
The Grim Reaper glared back at me, his terrifying visage partially hidden by his hood. Then he morphed, his form taking a shape that was familiar but no less frightening; Jonathon Grimm.
‘Hello, Tyler,’ said Grimm, his glacial voice unable to compete with the soulless expression in his eyes. ‘Welcome to Hell.’ He waved a hand and the nether that surrounded us parted, forming a long hallway.
At the end of it was a door. Forged of a dull black metal that repelled the eyes and induced nausea so strong it doubled me over.
Grimm grabbed hold of my hair, twisting it around his fist and pulling me with him as he marched towards the door. The closer I got, the worse I retched, eyes streaming, stomach muscles aching. I collapsed and he dragged me the remaining distance, the fire in my scalp pale in comparison to the agony besetting my body as my ribs grated against each other.
Grimm let go of my hair and grabbed me under the arms, lifting me up and holding me in front of him so that I faced the door. Bile dribbled down my chin, strands of hair sticking to my face. I kept retching, but there was nothing left in my stomach to come out, and I drew up a shaking hand to wipe my mouth.