by Donna Grant
But that’s not what made Bran pause. He wanted to know where Daire was. Death kept the Reapers together unless it was for something special. Perhaps Bran needed to find Daire and see what Death had him doing.
Bran walked from the room with a smile. Let them find a new place. He would run them to ground quick enough. Especially now that he had Jordyn’s scent.
Chapter Nineteen
Cael walked through the Fae doorway and was instantly surrounded by vivid shades of green and every color flower imaginable.
Seeing Erith twice in such a short period was unusual. And both times he’d sought her out.
She hadn’t been happy to see him the first time. He didn’t imagine things would change this time around.
A butterfly glided past him, its black and blue markings spectacular on its large wings. Cael followed the flight of the butterfly over and behind him. He turned, his gaze caught by the graceful beauty of the insect that reminded him of Erith.
The way she seemed to glide instead of walk. The way she had to touch the leaves of the plants she passed, as if they alone were the reason she breathed. The way she never stayed still for long.
As soon as the butterfly landed on a pink rose with white tips, he saw her. Death.
Her large lavender eyes were trained on him. There was no welcoming smile, but when was there ever? Her blue-black hair fell over her left shoulder in waves of inky blackness. And a small pink flower was tucked behind her right ear.
She wore another black dress that dipped low to show ample cleavage and a hint of bright pink lining. Slim straps kept the dress atop her shoulders while the bodice molded to her narrow waist before flaring out in layers of elaborate lace.
Erith said not a word as she turned and started toward the white tower. Cael followed, noting how the train of her dress seemed to float just above the ground, the black fading to pink before it returned to black and started the process all over again.
No words were spoken until they reached the room that Cael had dubbed the library. It was the only place he’d seen in the entire white tower¸ the only place she ever allowed him to enter. All the others doors were kept closed at all times.
Erith walked to the middle of the room and faced him with one blue-black brow raised.
He’d hoped she would demand why he was there, but then again, Erith never did anything expected. After thousands of years working with her, Cael should know that.
Cael stood just inside the door, his gaze holding Death’s. She was the only female in all the realms who had the ability to make him feel as insignificant as an ant, and then on the other hand as mighty as the universe.
It was a battle of wills that kept them both silent. Cael needed her to ask why he was there. Death wasn’t all-knowing, though some thought she was.
“Two visits in a matter of days. When I didn’t summon you,” Erith said and raised her chin. “You know I don’t like to be disturbed.”
Cael drew in a breath and slowly released it. “When have I ever come simply to visit? I’m here for a reason.”
“Did you find who is killing the half-Fae then?”
“I’ve a suspicion.”
Her lavender gaze narrowed slightly. “Surely you’re not here to get my permission to kill these Fae.”
“How did you know it was Fae?”
She looked askance at him. “And who else would it be?”
True. Cael took a step to the right, but remained near the door. “It’s not one Fae, Erith. It’s an army.”
There was a beat of silence before she asked, “How many?”
“We can’t be sure. I set a trap for them.”
“And?” she urged when he paused.
“There was a half-Fae Baylon found. She agreed to act as bait to draw them out after they wiped out her family. There were over two dozen Dark who attacked us. The half-Fae was hit.”
Erith moved to sit on a padded bench beneath a window whose shudders had been pushed open. “Is she dead?”
“It took awhile, but her body healed.”
“Did you see the leader of this army?”
Cael shook his head. “These Dark knew us. They knew where to find us, how we’d fight, and they knew our ways. Baylon had one in his grasp, with his sword at the Dark’s throat, and the Dark was able to teleport away.”
“Impossible,” she stated, offended that he would even suggest such a thing.
Cael shrugged on shoulder. “It happened. They don’t move as fast as us, but it’s close. Their magic is more powerful than a Dark’s should be.”
Erith leveled a glare at him. “Are you suggesting that I sent another group after you?”
“No. If you wanted us dead, we’d be dead.”
“But someone gave these Dark added powers.”
“Whoever the leader is has focused his attention on the Reapers–and you.”
Erith studied him a moment. “You know who it is.”
“I think so, but it couldn’t be possible.”
“Who?”
“Bran.” Cael didn’t know what he expected Erith to do, but to sit there without so much as a bat of her eyes was like a punch to his stomach.
Erith turned her head to look out the window. “Bran is no more.”
“Did you kill him?”
Her gaze snapped around to glower at him. “You dare to question me?”
“Yes, when it’s your life in danger. Not to mention ours and every half-Fae on Earth.”
Erith moved a loose curl that had fallen over her eyes to the side. “Bran is somewhere he can never escape.”
Cael closed his eyes, the knot of dread forming. He’d prayed Eoghan was wrong, but it looked like his old friend had known what Cael refused to admit. Bran wasn’t dead.
“Where is Bran?”
Erith leaned an arm on the sill of the window and held out her hand. A moment later a dragonfly with wings that were clear except for a two thick bands of dark green on each of the four wings landed on her finger. “Far, far away.”
“Have you checked on him?”
“No need.”
Cael could no longer control the anger that spiked within him. “Why the hell didn’t you just kill him?”
His shout echoed around the tower. Erith didn’t immediately respond. She waited until the dragonfly had flown away before she turned back to him.
Lavender eyes pinned him as she rose to her feet. “After what Bran did, you ask me that? He killed Theo and was about to kill you and Eoghan.”
“Then you should’ve ended him.”
She smiled, but there was no humor there. “He broke my rules, Cael. He took a lover and told her who he was. He told her about each of you. Then he turned on you. Dying was too easy.”
Listening to her talk of Bran’s lover reminded Cael that Baylon was walking the same path as Bran. The only difference was that Cael willingly allowed Jordyn into the group in order to stop whoever was killing half-Fae.
But what if Cael had sealed Baylon and Jordyn’s fate?
Then he realized that what was between the two of them couldn’t be stopped. Whether Jordyn had the protection of the Reapers or not, Baylon would still have given his heart to the half-Fae.
“Check to see if Bran is still where you put him,” Cael urged.
Erith stared at Cael for a long time. She didn’t like being told what to do–in any capacity. She was Death, after all. She made the decisions.
Yet, there was something in Cael’s words that alerted her. Cael wasn’t prone to fanciful thoughts. If he asked about Bran it was because Cael had enough information to believe it was him.
With a wave of her hand, the door closed to the room. Despite the extra power and magic she gave Cael, he wouldn’t be able to leave that room without her permission.
The last thing she wanted was him wandering the tower - or her realm. It was her sanctuary, and there were things she didn’t want him to see.
And she shouldn’t like the thought of him in her tower.
“I’ll return shortly,” she said and teleported out.
Erith stood in the Netherworld, unmoved by the malicious winds that blew constantly. The sky was a murky orange that never changed across the desolate landscape.
The entire realm was made up of nothing but sand and the howling wind. It was a Hell for Fae that weren’t killed –a prison world that kept them trapped for eternity.
Those who were imprisoned in the Netherworld learned to survive by digging holes in the earth, otherwise the small shards of rock carried in the wind would slowly slice off pieces of skin day after day.
Erith thought of Bran, expecting to be taken to him instantly. But nothing happened.
She looked around. No one had ever escaped the Netherworld. No one.
Yet there was no denying Bran wasn’t there.
With no other choice, Erith returned to her tower. She found Cael standing at one of the windows looking out as a pair of butterflies danced near the purple wisteria that climbed the tower on one side.
“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Cael asked without turning around.
Erith was sick to her stomach at the thought that Bran had somehow escaped and she hadn’t known. Was she so confident in herself that she didn’t see when something was going wrong?
No. That couldn’t be right. She knew her limits all too well.
“Yes,” she admitted.
Cael turned to face her. “Where did you put him?”
“The Netherworld.”
Cael’s silver eyes widened. “And he escaped? How the bloody hell did that happen?”
“It’s what we need to find out.” She walked to stand next to Cael, something she rarely did. He always made her feel flustered, rattled when he got too near. “Bran is the one causing this havoc. He needs to be stopped.”
“This time I’m going to kill him.”
The statement, made by a man who never failed her, was why she chose him as a Reaper. Well, it was one reason. Then there was the fact he was the type of man that others followed. His instincts were usually right on the money as well.
There was another reason, but that she kept locked away.
Erith smiled. “If you don’t, I will.”
“Will you join this fight?”
“Eventually. I need to see if Bran had help getting out of the Netherworld.”
Cael crossed his arms over his chest. “We’re stretched thin with Daire gone. We could use him.”
“No,” she stated. “Daire stays with Rhi.”
Cael bowed his head. “As you say.”
“Bran knows I killed his lover. He’s going to want to strike at the Reapers in such a way.” She left the rest unsaid to see what reaction she would get from Cael. There was the tiniest flash in his silver eyes, but it was all she needed to see.
“Bran won’t be able to hurt us in such a way.”
Erith looked up at Cael with his long black hair loose about his shoulders, and his silver eyes set in a determined glint. “This half-Fae female who allowed herself to be used as bait, do I need to be concerned?”
“No.”
Said much too quickly. Erith felt a piece of her wither inside. She never wanted to be put in this situation again, and yet her she was.
She turned to the window, allowing her fingers to graze Cael lightly. In an instant an image of the half-Fae filled her mind. Jordyn Patterson.
“How many humans with Fae blood have we lost?” she asked, to change the subject.
They way Cael’s shoulders relaxed was a telling sign. There was something going on between one of the Reapers and Jordyn. Was it Cael?
She cut him a look out of the corner of her eye. No, not Cael and not Eoghan. Those two saw firsthand what it had done to the group before.
Nor was it Fintan. The Dark would never allow himself to become involved with another. Daire was with Rhi. That left Kyran, Talin, and Baylon.
And Baylon was the one who found her.
Death had high hopes for Baylon. She didn’t want to kill him or Jordyn, but neither of them were giving her a choice.
“We’ve not tallied it up yet,” Cael replied. “My guess is in the hundreds. We don’t have names or locations of the humans with Fae blood, so it will take us time to find them.”
“Time we don’t have,” she said. “I’ll do what I can.”
Cael nodded and turned on his heel. Erith opened the door with her mind before he reached it. She remained in the tower watching as Cael walked to the doorway that would take him back to the realm of Earth.
His strides were long, purposeful. He was a Fae who didn’t let anything stand in his way. Cael was the perfect Reaper–and the very one she’d modeled the group after.
Chapter Twenty
The weight of the daggers sat heavily in Jordyn’s hands before she slid them into their sheaths at her waist. She practiced with them as much as she could, but an hour was nothing. Jordyn needed years.
It helped knowing she wasn’t completely weaponless. She might not know how to use the daggers properly, but let one of the Dark get close enough and she’d be happy to sink a blade into their bodies.
If they didn’t strike her down with magic first.
Jordyn felt like she was about to get sick. She might have Fae blood, but she was still a human. The shred of magic she had took hours to heal her from the blast of Dark magic. She had nothing but her daggers, her wits–and Baylon–to protect her from the Dark.
Baylon. She turned her gaze to him as they walked along the streets of Edinburgh looking for a place the Reapers could plan their next assault.
Baylon gave her a brief nod. His attention was on the people along the streets. Though it seemed odd not to run across any Dark in the half hour they’d been walking.
“What about my flat?” Jordyn suggested.
Baylon glanced at her. “They know of it.”
“Yep, but that also means they’ll assume we won’t go back.”
Baylon paused at a corner and looked behind him before he looked to each side. “That could work.”
Jordyn chuckled. “Since your group normally hides under ancient structures, I’d say that’s a yes.”
“I’ll let the others know,” Baylon said with a wink.
Jordyn’s steps were lighter than they had been in hours. Her life had gone to hell in a matter of seconds, and she no longer had any family. But there was Baylon. She had him and the knowledge of who she was.
She was confident the Reapers would stop this enemy, and then Jordyn could mourn her family. Right after she begged Death to allow Baylon to live.
Neither of them spoke about the future since their last conversation. His fingers slid against hers, intertwining. There wasn’t a need for more words. They said all that needed to be said.
Jordyn smiled when she saw her building. By the time they reached her flat, Kyran and Talin were already inside. They were looking through her numerous Fae books and comparing them.
“They’re like bairns. They have to touch everything,” Fintan said behind them.
Jordyn turned to find him leaning against her kitchen counters and drinking her wine. He lifted the glass and shot them a half smile.
Baylon chuckled. “At least those two had an adult to watch over them.”
“As if,” Talin shot over his shoulder. “Fintan was the first one here and showed us the books.”
When Jordyn looked back at Fintan, he merely smiled and shrugged before he took a long drink of wine. She stood looking at the four Fae–two Dark and two Light–in her home.
Just a few days earlier she’d wondered if she would ever encounter a Fae, preferably one who wasn’t Dark. How odd that she no longer feared Fintan and Kyran. She trusted them as much as she trusted Baylon and the rest of the Reapers.
The door to the flat opened and Eoghan strode in followed by Cael. Neither looked happy.
At once, Kyran and Talin set aside the books and came toward the kitchen table. Fintan moved closer, though he didn’t r
elinquish his wine glass.
“By your face, I’m guessing it’s Bran we’re after,” Fintan stated.
Cael gave a nod. “Death put him in the Netherworld.”
“How the hell did he get out?” Talin asked in a mixture of shock and anger.
Cael put his hands on the back of a chair and slowly released a breath. “Death is attempting to sort that bit out.”
“Why didn’t she just kill him to begin with?” Kyran asked with a frown.
Cael and Eoghan exchanged a look. It was Cael who said, “Because he killed Theo and nearly killed me and Eoghan. Death wanted Bran to pay by living in the Netherworld for eternity.”
Jordyn didn’t know what this Netherworld was, but it obviously wasn’t a place that people escaped from. The fact Bran did meant he wasn’t just intelligent but was cunning as well.
Baylon leaned down and whispered, “The Netherworld is like Hell for Fae.”
That’s what she assumed. It must be bad for Death to put Bran there instead of killing him. But that meant Bran was royally pissed, and now he was after them.
“This was a good place to meet,” Cael told her.
Jordyn grinned, pleased at the praise.
“We need to draw Bran out,” Fintan said.
Each man nodded their heads in agreement. Jordyn was used to working at the police station where men acted like they always had the answers and knew what to do.
This was completely different. These Fae knew exactly what had to be done, and they had most of the answers. There was no acting with these men. Each and every one of them was bossy, assertive, and overbearing in their own ways.
And she found she liked it. Not just because they protected her, but because they protected each other and the humans.
They were the elite of the Fae, and though none of them spoke of it, she could tell their duties took a toll on them. They were assassins. No one - not even a Reaper - could kill that many people and not have it stain their soul somehow.
Cael looked to Eoghan. “Eoghan and I are going to scout the city. We know what Bran looks like.”
“I think we’d be better setting a trap for him now instead of waiting,” Kyran said.
