Reaper (Dragon Prophecies Book 1)

by Hickory Mack

  When they discovered the threat was already taken care of by a reaper, the hunters would hopefully leave town instead of looking for her. They would have no way of knowing which reaper had done it. Elsie sighed, turning down Main Street and heading toward her postage stamp-sized one-bedroom apartment. She needed a big, fat sandwich. A tumble in bed with her current lover, Mara, a pretty blonde with voluptuous hips and kissable lips, wouldn’t hurt either. Then a good long sleep.

  She looked at the figure of Santisima, the onyx reflecting the light of the full red moon ominously, like her mother was trying to warn her about something. Yeah. Life was never that easy.

  Chapter 2

  The grocer that her apartment was situated above moonlighted as a place to buy various cooked foods on the side. The menu changed wildly from one day to the next, depending on what Mrs. Cutler felt like cooking that morning. Her choices were often made based on what stock needed to be used before it spoiled. The positive was the variety. The negative was she was unlikely to make the same thing more than once or twice in a great while.

  Elsie breathed in the scent of something spicy and shushed her grumbling stomach. Mrs. Cutler was a great cook, but her arm was covered in blood and her body was bound to be bruised from her fight with the boar. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, especially while carrying her mask around.

  Reapers were nearly as frightening to the general population as demons themselves, which wasn’t all that surprising. They weren’t as common as hunters, and even they had a healthy fear of her kind. There was only about one reaper for every few thousand hunters, and then there was the whole ‘Priestess of Death’ thing. Elsie rarely came across other reapers. When she did, they were always the kind that had needed to train hard their entire lives to be what they were, not those who were born into it, like she was.

  She knew she had dozens of siblings out there somewhere, but she’d yet to meet any. The Lady of Death had borne daughters to become reapers and sons to guide souls through reincarnation. Elsie didn’t consider any of the bastard children her faerie father had running around out there to be kin. Not that she’d met any of them, either.

  A wooden set of stairs attached to the outside wall of the market allowed Elsie access to her apartment without having to go through the store. She climbed them with a heavy feeling she couldn’t place, squinting when she noticed how dark her windows were. It was possible the light she always left on over the stove for Frida, her cat, could have burned out, but that didn’t feel like the right explanation.

  Elsie slid her key into the lock, but she didn’t bother turning it. She twisted the handle and pushed, waiting outside for anything that might come barreling out of there. She never left her door unlocked. Not once. Someone either was—or had been—in her apartment. A familiar thud came from within, then a quick shuffling step came at her in a creamy brown blur. The cat climbed Elsie’s clothes and nestled its head under her chin, making small chirping noises.

  “It’s okay, Miss Kahlo,” Elsie murmured, snuggling the kitty close. Frida wasn’t a normal cat. Elsie had found her in a human-laid trap out in the woods shortly after moving to Providence. It was obvious she’d been there for days, and when Elsie had picked her up, she was lifeless, unable to move. The poor kitty had been straddling the line between life and death, and even with her ability to shove souls back into their bodies, Elsie had barely been able to save her.

  Elsie had gone back into town and demanded answers. There was no good reason for trapping, it was a cruelty and a travesty, but no one had been willing to tell her what they did with the animals caught in those traps. They certainly weren’t wearing the furs, and she doubted they were eating them. These traps were for weasels and the like. She’d gone on a personal campaign, hunting down and destroying every trap for miles.

  Nobody had ever reported it, though she knew there were rumors that people suspected her. For a while, new traps had replaced those she’d ruined, and there were even cameras placed in front of some of them. Foolish. They were pitting themselves against a bruja who could literally stop time and continue moving around in the absence of it. She still went out a couple of times a week, but she hadn’t found any new traps in months. They’d finally given up, though she’d never figured out what the humans had been doing with the animals they caught.

  It had taken Elsie weeks to nurse Frida back to health, and her brush with death had changed her. She’d become an alebrije, a spirit guide. So, sometimes she looked like an ordinary long-haired house cat, while others, she was something else entirely. For now, however, she was presenting herself as a cat.

  Once she’d healed, Elsie had made it a habit of taking Frida on outings with her whenever possible. She taught meditation with the cat in her lap and jogged through town with Frida draped across her shoulders. She’d gotten many comments on her strange pet, but not one person had ever asked her where she’d gotten it.

  Frida wasn’t as upset as Elsie thought she’d be if there was still someone in there. She peered into the darkness and sighed. There was only one way to find out if they were still in there. What a pain.

  Elsie walked in, flicked the living room light on, and kicked the door shut behind her. She saw them out of the corner of her eye and inwardly groaned. There was no way they’d have arrived that quickly in response to Samuel, which meant they’d tracked her down, and this was personal.

  She sent her senses out into the apartment, getting an idea of who was in there and who wasn’t. Mara hadn’t come over yet, thank the Gods. Her lover was sweet, but so innocently human. She wouldn’t have known what to think or do if she’d encountered the men Elsie felt inside. There was a considerable amount of power between them, meaning the hunters had chosen among their strongest to send to her. However, strongest didn’t always mean they were the best.

  She hung her keys up on the nail in the doorframe and dropped her jacket on the stool next to the door. Then walked past them, straight into the bathroom without so much as a glance in their direction. If they wanted to talk, they’d just have to wait their damned turn.

  Flicking on the light, she rolled up her sleeve and examined her cuts. Two of them were pretty deep, and though the poison coating Samuel’s claws wasn’t particularly potent, it was preventing her body from starting the usually accelerated healing process that was a perk from her father’s side of the family.

  She’d have to scrub the wound clean. Elsie opened the medicine cabinet and fumbled through its contents before finding a bottle of saline and some gauze. Gritting her teeth, she rinsed it with the saline first, the salty water bubbling as it made contact with the poison.

  She focused on the cat winding its way between her legs, rubbing up against her, refusing to make a sound. She didn’t want those bastards inhabiting her living room to hear a single moment of her weakness. Elsie rinsed it again, letting the pink tinged saline go down the drain. When it stopped bubbling, she used the gauze to scrub the wounds clean.

  The pain left her light-headed. Elsie gripped the edge of the sink and closed her eyes, breathing slowly, then carefully bandaged her arm, only to keep any more blood from dripping. With the poison cleaned out she could heal now. Even the deepest of the three cuts would be closed by morning, and the scars would fade to nothing within a week.

  Elsie took her shirt off and walked into her bedroom, tossing it into the hamper then pulling on a black tank top and a pair of sweatpants. Fuck the hunters. She’d make herself comfortable in her own house. Pausing in the doorway Elsie scowled, realizing she’d left her phone in her jacket pocket. Since Mara wasn’t already here, she’d be on her way soon.

  Elsie’s lip curled upward. She needed two things: food, and for Mara to be nowhere near this mess. Though not in that order. She sauntered out into the living room, Frida doing her damndest to trip her. Digging in her jacket pockets, she had a second of panic before remembering she’d slid the phone into the inside pocket. Taking it out, Elsie turned right back around and wen
t into her kitchen.

  She thoroughly enjoyed that half a squad of trained killers were just standing there like a bunch of idiots, waiting on her. They had so many damned rules to obey, including waiting for the target of a diplomatic mission to start the discourse. They wouldn’t speak to her until she spoke first. The theory was it gave the target a feeling of authority in the situation, and would make them more comfortable in negotiations. She considered it all a bunch of psychological bullshit.

  Elsie quickly texted Mara, explaining that something had come up and they couldn’t hang out. She only hoped her lover wasn’t close. Mara liked to walk over instead of taking her bike.

  Opening the fridge, she stared balefully at its meager contents. She hadn’t had time to do the shopping as she’d planned. Muttering about child-killing demons and their inconsiderate timing, she took out the remains of the chickpea salad she’d whipped together the night before. There was just enough for a sandwich and a small treat for Frida.

  Pouring herself a glass of water, she took a long, satisfying drink. She’d installed a filter she’d created herself to remove all the chemicals intentionally added to the water supply. It was easier for the humans to survive a demon-run world with their sanity intact if they were drugged. She stood at the counter then hopped up to sit on it while she slowly chewed her dinner, planning out her next move.

  There were five of them out there, silent as the grave. They were dressed in the differing robes of their classification within the Hunter Clans. She hadn’t seen everything in her peripheral vision, but one of them had been wearing a deep golden yellow and another a rich forest green. These men weren’t ordinary grunts in a low-level squad that took orders without question. They’d brought a healer and a fucking mage, dressed in deep red, into her house.

  Elsie sighed and plucked a petal from a cluster of marigold plants she kept in a pot on the counter. She pinched it in the fingers of one hand while holding her necklace in the other.

  “Santa Muerte, give me clarity of mind,” she muttered. The marigold took on a bright orange glow before she released it, the petal floating into the air then vanishing in a tiny flame. Elsie didn’t bother asking for protection this time.

  She knew what her mother would say. “I gave you the Staff of Sanaia and taught you how to use it, for Goddess’ sake. Protect yourself.”

  Her phone pinged, and Elsie picked it up to check Mara’s response.

  Mara: Is it because I’m running late? You’re not mad, are you?

  Elsie: No, babe, it’s nothing you did. I have to deal with something unpleasant right now. I’ll explain later, okay?

  Mara: Oh. Okay. Later, then.

  Great. That would be fun to navigate. Mara could get unreasonably pouty and sullen when she felt rejected. The girl was good in bed, but she was starting to get a little too needy.

  Elsie hand-fed Frida a few bits of the salad and watched the kitty hunker down and eat it while purring loudly. She’d been watching them with her magic as she ate, but the hunters hadn’t moved. They were clearly here on a diplomatic mission, which meant they wouldn’t engage her until she acknowledged them. They wouldn’t want to escalate the encounter into something violent, which was smart on their part.

  She wondered why they’d only brought five. Whoever had sent them would have known it wouldn’t be enough if they provoked her into a fight. She’d spent her time among the Hunter Clans as one of their elite, and she’d learned a lot since leaving.

  Elsie finished her sandwich and licked her fingers clean. The alebrije inspected her hands to make sure it was all really gone. She loved “people food.”

  “Well, what do you think, Miss Kahlo? We may as well deal with this now, or they’ll never go away.” Elsie pressed her lips together irritably and scooped the cat into her arms before hopping off the counter. The weight of the weapon on her bracelet was a comfort, reminding her of her strength.

  Walking back into the living room, she flopped into her favorite chair as though she were completely unbothered by the men taking up all of her available floor space. Her apartment was pretty dang small.

  She scowled up at them. Yes. A healer, a mage, two assassins, and a geographer. They were a squad, after all. She’d worked in one just like it. She grimaced when she noticed she knew their tracker. Son of a bitch.

  “You know, breaking and entering is illegal around these parts. We value our safety, privacy, and security around here,” she started. “Not that it’s considered polite anywhere else…”

  There was finally some movement among them, and though their faces were mostly hidden by the hoods of their cloaks, she could feel their unease. Once she looked at their magic trails and realized she recognized their healer too, her heart gave a squeeze. That magic was as familiar to her as her own. They’d brought Marley with them, but it wasn’t her that spoke first.

  “We didn’t technically break anything,” the geographer said, his familiar voice grating against her nerves. Look at him, a real field agent now. A job she’d never thought he’d actually land. It was a miracle they’d let him back into the elite squads after what he’d pulled.

  “Using magic to open the lock counts, Callum.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Marley. What the hell do you guys want? Maybe you missed the memo, but I’m not the Hunter Clan’s monkey on a leash anymore. I refuse to dance on their orders.”

  Marley didn’t respond. She stood silent, looking at a space on Elsie’s wall, which made her curious. Did Marley resent her for leaving so suddenly? Or was it something else? She thought of the tension building in her squad during her last two years with the hunters and pressed her lips together. The healer had never fully trusted her again after she’d taken a demon as her companion, and it looked like their time apart hadn’t softened her attitude.

  “We’re not here with orders. It’s well known that you are a free agent.” Callum looked at her suspiciously. It was unheard of, and she was sure those higher up on the chain hadn’t made it clear why she’d received special treatment. “We were sent with a request from Commander Grant.”

  She didn’t know who that was; General Mordane had been in charge when she’d left. Elsie’s lip curled involuntarily. Someone near the top wanted something from her. She almost dismissed them just for that. Unfortunately, sending them away would only delay the inevitable. That wouldn’t be the end of it, and she knew it. Fuck.

  “What does Commander Grant want?”

  “He would like you to work collaboratively with the hunters. We have a new facility in the South, whose security measures include being in an alternate dimension as a safety precaution. The heightened security is due to the types of creatures being held there,” Callum explained. Elsie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. That didn’t sound like anything she wanted to be a part of.

  “It’s already built?” she questioned, adjusting Frida in her lap. The cat stared at the intruders with narrowed yellow eyes.

  “Yes. Everything is ready to go,” Marley finally spoke. Elsie looked toward the healer, starting to wonder why they’d specifically sent two people she was familiar with. Maybe to put her off her guard? Or maybe they’d been hoping seeing a familiar face would help sway her decision…

  “Then you already have a reaper working with you and have no need of me,” she stated the obvious. They couldn’t have built the damned thing without someone opening the door in the first place. “My guess is you guys weren’t paying her enough?”

  Reapers willing to work with the hunters were few and far between, and those who would be willing would charge a premium. With how few were out there in the universe, some of her sisters were known to be swayed by material comforts. Callum shook his head.

  “We fairly compensated Muriel. She was killed by one of the test subjects,” he said, and Elsie’s skin crawled. “Apparently, she was lured into trusting him over several weeks, and she began spending more time with him. He killed her.”

  “Wha
t kind of facility is it?” she demanded, stung to hear that she’d lost a sister she hadn’t even had the chance to meet. Just hearing the words ‘test subjects’ hardened her resolve to refuse them. She’d seen more than enough of what their experiments did to creatures. No matter what they offered, she wasn’t interested.

  “It is exactly as it sounds. A testing facility housing some upper-level demons. I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you any more than that. It’s classified. You will be privy to more information when you are contracted to the job,” Marley stated.

  “Oh no, there won’t be any contract between us. I’m not stupid,” she snorted. Any contract with the hunters wouldn’t be a mere signature on a slip of paper agreeing to terms. It would be magically binding. “You sound awfully familiar with the subject, Marley. What was my sister Muriel killed by?”

  “Like I said—” Callum started.

  “I asked Marley, not you. Do you really think you can convince a reaper to work for you without at least knowing what she’s getting into?” Elsie scoffed. “You’re dumber than I thought, and that’s saying something.”

  Callum let out a deep sigh. “It was a satyr.”

  Elsie laughed but sobered quickly. The allure of a satyr and others of his classification like fauns, incubi, and sirens, could be overpowering to weaker creatures. But not reapers. Sex magic didn’t affect them.

  “He must have been in a terrible state for one of my kind to feel badly enough to form an attachment to him. What were you doing to him?” she asked.

  “That’s classified.”

  “Of course it is. What exactly are you wanting me to do for you? Play door woman? Open this dimension on demand?” She raised an eyebrow expectantly. “That sounds unpleasantly boring to me.”

  “That’s part of it. There are actually two facilities, connected through a gate. There are four gates in total. You would also be charged with bringing us creatures from other dimensions,” Callum stated.