“The Reaper’s Willow, if you would.”
I wrapped both hands around the glass. “You can’t be serious.”
“Unless you have a key, I would suggest you hurry.”
“You can’t slice off part of your soul,” I said, addressing the massive elephant sucking up all the oxygen in the room. “You have no idea what that will do.”
“Who said anything about my soul?”
My pulse rose to a hammering crescendo until I realized he was joking. His large hand stretched out, palm waiting the glass. After running through the alternative options—and quickly realizing there were no alternatives—I handed him the jar.
“Thank you, Eden.” He set the jar down and began unbuttoning his collared shirt. “When I begin to shake, you must reach above my heart. And then shove this up my nose.”
He tapped the ground up sawdust concoction sitting nearby.
“Oh, is that all?”
“I cannot do this without you,” Kai said, his expression serious. “Only a Reaper can harvest souls.” He gave me a kind look. “Just not too much, please.”
“I’ll try my best,” I said, watching as he scratched himself with the sharp thorn right above his heart. Blood dripped down his muscular chest from the deep cut, and I felt a slight bout of nausea coming along. That was new. I’d never been squeamish about this whole reaping thing, morbid as it was. But I’d also never taken a shard of a living person’s soul—Lucille notwithstanding. And I wasn’t sure she really counted.
Kai put the thorny plant into one of the empty lids. The agent took his phone and used it as a makeshift pestle, grinding the Reaper’s Willow into dust as the air continued constricting around us. I slowed my breathing and tried to channel some of his preternatural calm. It didn’t really work. My thoughts drifted from our predicament, then to Dante’s, who was probably dead in the tunnel. And, of course, Moreland, who was likely healing himself right now, and Stefan, who was glad-handing next to the firewalk somewhere above.
Actually, I didn’t know where we were. Maybe he kept his supplies—like his trophy skulls—near the house. Or maybe we were stashed off the grid, where no one would ever think to look.
“Remember, when I begin to shake.” A light sweat covered Kai’s brow, and his breathing was shallow. His natural tan complexion was unusually pale, and a vein throbbed in his forehead. He checked the cut in his chest with a probing finger, working the digit into the wound to widen it a little more. I heard a soft groan escape from his clenched teeth.
“What are you,” I said as he removed his bloodied finger and exhaled.
“Just a man, Eden.” With a blank look of determination, he took the lid full of powder and shotgunned the entire thing in one gulp. His thick neck worked overtime, trying to down the Reaper’s Willow without any water. Almost immediately, his body began to shake.
I leapt into action, trying to get a hold on him. But he weighed about two-twenty of solid muscle, built like some sort of combination between a linebacker and Greek god—and by shake, he meant violently thrash. The shelving trembled as his shoulders bashed against the metal, even though it was bolted into the earthen walls.
I tried to plunge my fingers into the wound, but his head snapped forward like it’d been shot from a rifle, connecting solidly with my chest. What little air I’d managed to force into my lungs ejected into the musty cellar. Rasping, I dropped to my hands and knees, trying to will myself forward. Kai continued spasming, his foot kicking over the sawdust mixture as I dug my fingers into the hard dirt.
I heaved myself forward, landing on top of him as he bucked like a prized rodeo steer. One hand clutching his arm just to hang on, I aimed the other one at the bleeding wound in his chest. Then I jabbed my fingers in, feeling his warm flesh. The shaking grew more violent, probably from the pain, but I dug deeper. My thumb brushed up against it, the energy coursing through my skin.
His soul had sharp edges, sharper than I’d imagined. But it also felt smooth and inviting, like a pleasant stone. I torqued my wrist like I was revving a bike, and I felt a shard snap off in my hand. Kai let out a thunderous groan that filled the entire root cellar.
“Sorry.” I yanked my hand out and let go, rolling to the side to avoid his thrashing arms. Between my bloody fingers, I could see a swirling shard, light and darkness intertwined around each other. Not quite what I expected, but then, it was hard to really know anyone—right?
His movements dampened, and I felt myself getting lightheaded. I slipped the shard into my pocket and looked for the lid. The powder was gone, having been overturned during the chaos. But I spotted a small pile of it in the dust. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and I took a large pinch of it, red dust and all, and shoved it right up his nose.
For a moment, nothing happened. His arms quivered.
Then Kai unleashed a massive sneeze, and his eyes flared open. He took a giant gulp of air, like he’d just come to the surface after being held down by a wave. For the first time since I’d met him, the agent looked scared and confused. Then his gaze settled on me and the calmness returned.
I had that effect on people, apparently.
Kai looked for his shirt. I dug it out from halfway beneath the shelf and handed it to him.
He glanced at his chest wound before buttoning it up. “You got it?”
I nodded and pulled it out. “What now?”
He cocked his head at the soul, like he was staring at his own reflection in the mirror after a long hiatus. There was no surprise in his expression, just a deep understanding and acceptance. With a wince, he tried to stand, but was still too weak from the ordeal to do so.
With a slightly embarrassed expression, he nodded toward the door. “Can you get the jar with the black powder?”
“What’s it called?”
“It’s unmarked.”
My head swam, breathing more carbon dioxide than oxygen at this point. I steadied myself on the shelf, using it to pull me along like a person caught in a windstorm. Near the metal door were a row of tipped over jars. I fumbled through them, trying to read the masking tape labels in the dim light. Eventually my heavy fingers found the unmarked jar.
Clutching it in both hands, I stumbled back to Kai and dropped to my knees. I held the glass out like I was offering him the Holy Grail. With substantial effort, he raised his right arm and took the jar from my grasp. He struggled with the lid, eventually get it free. Then he slipped the white-and-black swirled soul shard into the jar and tightened the lid back on.
“You’re going to want to cover your ears.”
“Why—”
Kai chucked the jar against the metal door, and everything exploded in a sea of white light.
When the dust cleared, a smoldering hole sat where the door had once been. My ears rang from the explosion as oxygen flooded the space, sweeping out the stale air.
Kai turned to me, and I saw him mouth the words more than I heard them. “Because it’s about to get loud.”
31
The soul-shard had acted as a catalyst for the dark matter Stefan had stored in the tight cellar. Good thing Kai had a few hidden talents—powerful sigils and ancient crafting recipes—hidden behind his pretty square jaw. Otherwise, we’d both have kicked it.
Outside the ruined door, there was a small ladder—about eight feet high—that led to a hatch. I scurried up first and tried the lock. To my minor surprise, it opened immediately. Guess there was no point to keeping this shut, since it was impossible to escape the actual cellar. Or so Stefan likely thought.
I peeked out from the hatch, smelling fresh cut grass, craft beer and grilling hamburgers. The sun was just beginning to set in an orange fuchsia burst, casting a pleasant tropical glow over a familiar place. Stefan’s front yard, just to the right out the large, wide steps. A large tree blocked my view of the area, but I could hear the bad pop music and drunken donors all the same.
I reached up and touched the top of the hatch. It was covered in sod. This guy got a charg
e out of doing everything in plain sight. The thrill made his hobby all the more exciting. I scurried out of the hatch, lying belly down on the grass. The tree shielded me from view. Kai joined me a few seconds later.
He said, “Unbelievable.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth.”
“This ends now.” He swept the long, dark hair out of his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I said, looking into his gentle gaze. But he seemed a little less gentle and a whole lot more dangerous. Shaving a piece from your soul will do that. The results, from what I had heard, were unpredictable. Take too much, and a person could completely lose themselves.
“I was wrong, Eden. Sometimes the right way is the wrong way.” Kai rose from the ground, stretching his broad-shoulders wide like a viper about to strike. I scrambled to join him, but he was already marching toward the party with long, determined strides that left me far behind. Emerging from behind the tree, I saw him come up behind Stefan and grab the murderous alchemist by the throat.
Then the agent threw the mayor into the nearby A/V table. The music stuttered and skipped, finally groaning to a sort of sad halt. Nervous chatter erupted from the crowd. Some people grabbed their phones to tape the incident, others were backing away, ready to leave. I hurried to the would-be videographers and snatched the phones. They were too stunned to notice.
One lady wouldn’t give hers up. “This is an abuse of power.”
“You’re right about that, ma’am,” I said, then boxed her in the ear. She shrieked and let the device loose. I took the opportunity to drop it into the grass and then mash it into a silicon pulp with my sneaker.
Behind me, I heard a crack. It didn’t sound like plastic. Judging from the mayor’s screaming, it had been bone.
I turned to find Kai dragging the mayor by the shirt toward the street. Stefan’s arm dangled uselessly at his side. Every time they hit a bump, the mayor would squirm and stifle a cry. After surveying the party-goers and satisfied that we wouldn’t suddenly be trending on social media, I rushed after Kai.
He had his boot positioned over Stefan’s head. Any vestige of the old Kai had vanished, repossessed by what seemed like a demon. The mayor babbled and prayed for his life—an ironic moment, to be sure, but one that I couldn’t fully appreciate given that Kai was about to join him down a dark hole.
“This isn’t who you are.”
“I started following the rules because things like this didn’t work out,” Kai said. “But now, I’m thinking that everything is just a little broken.”
Christ. This soul-losing business had hit him harder than I’d expected. I held up my hands and approached. “We need to get out of here.”
“Not before he pays.”
“Oh, he’ll get his,” I said, looking at the blood-slicked bald head quivering on the pavement. “He’ll have to live with his urges and never give in again.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because he doesn’t want to die,” I said, kneeling next to the shaking serial killer. There was no down-home politician put-ons or automaton-esque speeches. Just a sick man, a very sick man, who was now out of commission. “Do you want to die, mayor?”
“No!” Stefan’s response was a screech.
“Then explain to the good people here what you did.”
“I’ve done nothing! You’re insane—”
Kai’s boot ground his face against the gravel, and the mayor screamed.
“I don’t have time for this,” I said. “Repent.”
“The bodies are in the backyard.” He sniffled, practically drowning in his own snot. “And they weren’t bad people, either.”
“I know.” I pushed the memory of filling the hole out back. Not that I could have done anything. Resist, and I would’ve just ended up in his root cellar earlier. But the mere association, even under duress, was a guilt I’d have to bear.
“And Moreland.”
“He has a—a hideout.”
“Where?”
“In the northeast.” Stefan babbled an approximate location. From the geographical landmarks, it wasn’t far from Aldric’s floating house on the ocean. Guess Stefan wasn’t the only one who liked doing risky things right under people’s noses.
I tugged at Kai’s shirt sleeve. “Let’s go.”
“Our weapons.”
I glanced at the sedan parked on the cul-de-sac. There really wasn’t time, but I couldn’t leave my Reaper’s Switch here. The Feds would descend on this garish property like flies once they heard about the mayor’s exploits, and the blade was liable to get lost in the bureaucratic shuffle.
“You heard the man,” I said.
“In the tool shed.”
Not this shit again. I glanced back at the party-goers. Those who had stuck around the Firewalk Fundraiser were still watching in rapt horror. From the glint on their dinner plates, they were using actual silver. I sprinted back to the yard and plucked the first steak knife I could find off a skinny man’s plate. Then I returned and placed the serrated edge against Stefan’s thumb.
“What are you—”
I drove the steak knife down with the full weight of my front foot. There was a snap of bone breaking as I felt the blade cut through to the pavement. Blood dribbled along the perfect white lines beneath my sneaker. I pulled my foot away, and saw that the thumb was lying by itself.
I grabbed the digit and dashed to the house. Two minutes later, I was back with the Reaper’s Switch and Kai’s Glock 22.
“We need to wrap this up,” I said.
The agent still lingered by the sobbing, broken mayor. While he hadn’t raised the gun to finish the job, I couldn’t be sure what his next choice would be. Finally, he glanced at me, like he’d won a battle within his mind.
Without a word, he headed for the sedan, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
More than a shred of his former self remained.
But before the day was through, justice could cost us the shards of our soul still hanging on by a thread.
32
The government sedan wobbled and groaned over the poorly maintained road. Finally, an axle snapped, and my side of the car dropped to the asphalt, grinding to an ear-splitting halt near the edge of the jungle. Toucans squawked with displeasure regarding the disturbance. We were at the edge of civilization, had passed Healing Paws Vet Clinic and where the turn to Aldric’s private on-the-water getaway was. If those two places were off the beaten path, then Moreland’s digs were off the grid entirely. Then again, no one chose to live at the base of a snowy mountain on paradise.
No one, that is, except an ancient warlock with an equally chilly heart.
I slammed my shoulder into the door, and the twisted metal groaned in protest. A sharp kick was enough to open it about half a foot. I squeezed out, thankful for my slight figure, and shivered. We were still in the jungle, but the slight hint of frost hung in the air. The snow-capped peak—taller than Everest, if you could believe it—devoured the immediate horizon.
The beginnings of a moon shone above the road. Out here, near Mount Danube—so named for the river near which Aldric had almost died—the tree tops weren’t as lush or thick. I joined Kai on the other side of the car. He was typing on his phone.
“What’s that about?”
“I told Rayna where we are. If she’s even on our side.” Kai’s features darkened. I saw the spear sigil on his forearm glow, casting a blue tint over the rest of his tattoos. Either he was afraid we weren’t going to make it alone, or he was afraid of what he might do.
Perhaps both.
My own phone buzzed like an angry hornet in my pocket. I glanced at the caller ID. Aldric, no doubt wondering when the hell I was going to hold up my end of the bargain. His goons had delivered the seven souls by now, but I’d promised the ancient vampire something really good to get him off my back.
A text message came through—This is not what we agreed to. Just like that, with pr
oper punctuation and capitals. I read it in Aldric’s voice, imagined him moving slowly, deliberately, with that coiled, restrained power. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me scared.
I fired off a response, giving him the location of the soul shard beneath the banyan tree. I ended my response with a smiley face. Sometimes a girl just couldn’t resist.
The reply came in seconds. This had better be worth my while, Eden.
“For both our sakes, I hope that’s true,” I said before slipping the phone back in my pocket.
The mossy road looked like it had been abandoned after a post-apocalyptic earthquake. Large slabs of asphalt jutted up from the ruined ground, like a giant had hurled a massive, crumbling discus into the earth. We wove our way through the wreckage, following what looked like an ATV’s tracks—fresh from the indentations in the thick moss.
“He’s out here.” I scanned the road, feeling a wintery chill rustle my hair. “Somewhere.”
“Very helpful.”
I slid over a downed banana tree blocking the road and glanced at my de-facto partner. A little snark. I’d have to keep an eye on him. We’d narrowly avoided having Stefan’s spinal fluid leaking all over the perfect cul-de-sac. To be clear, I had no qualms about seeing Moreland’s guts staining the perfect snow. But with backup arriving, and goddesses-knew-what-else lurking at the base of mountain, I really needed the wise, controlled Kai. Not some loose cannon.
The agent didn’t return my gaze. His pistol was out, ready to fire. The man who had been prepared to take Moreland in hours before—even if it hadn’t been the right move—had apparently scrapped that notion completely. It wasn’t just his damaged soul. I could taste it a little more, now. He’d been keeping some darkness down before.
We all had secrets.
Some of them are more dangerous than others.
I wondered what Sierra had felt when she felt my soul in the VIP room—tasted what the last four years had done to me. Was Reaping only from the dead, and keeping to the outskirts of Aldric’s enterprise enough to save me from darkness? Or was the fact that I hadn’t stepped into the arena the real source of the jaded cynicism that followed me like a cloak?
Rain Dance (Sunshine & Scythes Book 1) Page 24
