Reaper (Dragon Prophecies Book 1)

by Hickory Mack

  “I think you would trust me less if you knew those things,” the demon, possibly fae, woman responded. Elsie eyed her suspiciously. “For now, all you need to know is that I will take care of you if your needs are within my power.”

  “For a price,” Elsie muttered, and Wren stroked her cheek.

  “But of course.”

  “Do you actually feed off of touch like a satyr, or was I just making assumptions?” she asked.

  “You made an assumption,” Wren answered swiftly, then lowered her voice. “I just wanted to taste you. And I’d like to do it again.”

  Elsie’s insides warmed at the thought of that. Until she understood that no sex magic had been involved at all. The realization was like being doused in ice water. Elsie had wanted Wren that desperately all on her own, which she recognized as ridiculous. Losing her head over a stranger made her feel pretty damned foolish, no matter how attractive that stranger was. She decided she was going to blame it on the placebo effect. She’d thought she was under a sex demon’s influence, so her body had responded accordingly.

  Yeah, that excused her behavior nicely.

  “Are you capable of lying?” Elsie asked, her brow furrowing as her mind tried to sort the doe into a category. Wren’s smile broadened.

  “Yes.”

  Not fae, then. If the demon continued answering questions, the reaper may very well be able to figure out what she was. Or at the very least, figure out what she wasn’t. She still wasn’t completely confident Wren wasn’t some kind of creature within the sylvan classification. She didn’t know every demon out in the world. Who was to say there wasn’t a type of faun or satyr who took the form of a deer and could change its gender?

  “The harder you try to figure it out, the crazier it will make you. I’ll tell you eventually.” Wren’s voice took on a teasing lilt. “If I decide you’re worthy.”

  Elsie snorted at her. “Worthy?”

  Crashing through the trees, Frost came barreling straight toward them, his eyes fixated on the deer creature. It gave Elsie a crazy idea. Frost could make Wren tell them who she was, then she’d decide whether or not to trust the doe once she knew.

  “Don’t even try it,” Wren snickered, guessing at her newborn plan. “Didn’t I already tell you? He’s not what he used to be, are you, Wolfie?”

  “How do you know him?” Elsie asked.

  “He’s from a different pantheon than I am,” Wren answered flippantly. “But apparently he doesn’t want to hear his own name.”

  “Pantheon? Don’t you want me to know, Frost?” It didn’t surprise her much. What did surprise her was the fact that Wren was speaking freely with, and understanding, the wolf. Apparently, throughout all those years with her mother, he could have spoken to her; he’d simply chosen not to.

  “It isn’t about you.” Wren shook her head, gazing up at the great wolf with something hard in her eyes. “He doesn’t want to remember.”

  “Wait, what does that mean?” Elsie demanded, taking a step toward Frost.

  “He has no memory of his past, and he doesn’t want those memories back. Not while he is still contracted to your family.” Wren glanced at her warily. “He thinks it will drive him insane if he remembers and he’s still bound to you.”

  “That’s part of what we’re doing together,” Elsie said quietly. “This curse has to be lifted, and we need to get the binding removed. He’s given me until this winter to get it done.”

  It struck her that the wolf did have some memories of the doe since he’d shown them to her while he was chasing Wren. She wondered what it was that he didn’t want to remember. The loss of his freedom must have been traumatic. It was no wonder he’d spent all that time hating her mother, and it wasn’t like the Goddess of Death had made it easy on him.

  “What happens if you cannot do it before then?” Wren asked curiously. She flinched when Frost gave her the answer before Elsie could. “Oh. Well, that’s pretty serious. He’d rather die than continue the way things have been for the past several hundred years. You, uh… You aren’t planning to try forcing me into accepting a contract, are you?”

  “Not for all the healing in the world,” Elsie promised. “The hunters have forced two separate demons on me in my lifetime, both unwanted at the time. There’s no way I’d do something like that to anyone else.”

  Wren relaxed and held up a peace sign to Frost. “I won’t say anything, so long as you stop chasing me around and growling at me,” she said. “Maybe if you’re nice to her, this girl will help you with your own curse as well.” The wolf growled in response, but he stood his ground. It was a start.

  “There’s a curse on Frost?” Elsie questioned, squinting up at the big monster. She frowned as her heart sank. “Did my mother do it?”

  Wren just laughed at her. “No. It happened long before then.”

  When it was clear the doe would say no more, Elsie looked around the forest, trying to spot the sun in the sky, but it was too low, blocked by trees. From what she could guess, the demon’s romp through the forest had sent them in the wrong direction. She scowled at the pair of them, picking her cat up and petting her absently as she turned and walked away without a word to either of them.

  Wren caught up to her easily, taking the space to her left while the wolf trailed behind them. Elsie picked up an easy jog, and they kept pace without question. All the interruptions had made a serious dent in the number of miles she’d wanted to travel that day, and she wanted to make some of it up before night fell.

  Frost refrained from throwing any more thoughts her way, choosing mental silence as they traveled, which was somewhat of a relief. She was still mildly afraid he’d knock her on her ass with the power of those visions one of these times.

  For a while, there was no trail to follow, so they ran in spurts, maneuvering around obstacles until they eventually found a game trail. Elsie found it more difficult than running on the sky people’s planet. There were hills here. Big ones. She slowed when she needed to, her breath coming short, but the breaks were never long before she pushed herself to run again. Hopefully it wouldn’t take more than a few days for her body to adjust.

  Wren had a much easier time. She ran like she was born for it, nimbly threading through the brush and brambles without a scratch on her. More than once Elsie spotted her leaping over a log or bush rather than going around, her legs neatly tucking under her to clear the obstacle.

  As the sky darkened, Elsie brought their group to a halt, grumbling about how little they’d managed to travel. Wren placed a placating hand on her arm and gave her a smile. “We’ll go further tomorrow,” she said.

  “I hope so. We’ll stop here for a few hours. I need to get some sleep, then we’ll keep going,” Elsie replied.

  “In the dark?” Wren asked, blinking those big eyes at her.

  “Yes. This curse is literally killing me. I have to keep going, but I’m not asking you to come along. If it’s too much work for you, you’re more than welcome to go about your business,” Elsie replied. The doe looked at her passively, but she didn’t say anything else on the subject.

  Taking her silence as acceptance, Elsie worked on putting a fire pit together, letting the doe help her with the actual digging while Frost stayed out of the way. Earth magic was so freaking useful at times like these. Once the fire was ready, she opened her pocket dimension to take out the food.

  “Ooooh, what’s in there?” Wren peered in curiously, but the excitement in her face quickly fell when she saw the gold, silver, and copper pieces. “Nothing of interest,” she complained, going back to the fire with a swish of her tail, much to Elsie’s amusement. What kind of weirdo demon wasn’t interested in money? Even they had needs, and sometimes those needs required gold.

  Frost saw what she’d taken out to cook and groaned. “Oh, be quiet,” she scolded. “We’re running low on supplies. We weren’t supposed to spend so much time on the red planet, and if my bike hadn’t been destroyed, we’d have found Riven by now. Pl
us, you eat a ridiculous amount of food. You already ate a whole demon and the food I made earlier.”

  “He always has eaten a lot. He’s a big boy,” Wren commented, and the wolf turned toward her, his eyes ablaze with warning. She waved her hand at him dismissively. “Whatever you’re making, it smells good! Anything I can do to help? So long as you’re willing to stay in one place, you should be resting.”

  “That’s nice of you to offer, but I’ve got it.” She wanted a task to keep her hands busy, even if it allowed her mind to wander too much. Elsie made the same bean paste as before to spread on more fry bread. Even she had to admit it was getting boring, but it was nourishing enough to get them through until they could replenish their supplies. She passed a plate over to Wren, then to Frost, and shared her own plate with Frida.

  Wren eased her deer parts to the ground, arranging her heavily furred limbs prettily as she ate. Elsie kept stealing glances at her. She couldn’t help it. The hair on her head was as white as her fur, and it nearly touched the ground. Wren was almost unbelievably beautiful. The very essence of a mythical creature come to life. It kind of felt like she was sharing space with a unicorn.

  Elsie ate slowly while being careful not to get caught staring, trying to convince her body that what she’d made was enough, though it clearly wasn’t. She was using up too much energy in healing to be able to keep running every day. Not to mention the ethereal magic being used every moment to power the chain linking her to Frost. It hadn’t bothered her until after opening a second door, but she was definitely feeling the slow leak now.

  “I’ll take care of the clean-up!” Wren offered, and Elsie shook her head in disbelief. The doe, satyr, whatever the hell she was looked far too much like a perfect little princess to be managing clean-up. Those soft hands dripping in gold had never done a day of work in their life.

  “No thanks, I’ve got it,” she repeated, taking the plates and washing them herself while the demon watched her closely. Frost made a grumbling noise and lay next to the fire instead of going back inside of the cuff. She wouldn’t insist he stay there tonight. As disgusted as she was by his actions, Elsie knew he could be counted on to keep an eye on Wren while she slept. She couldn’t trust a creature that could be anyone and refused to give her name.

  When she finished cleaning and putting everything away, she unrolled her sleeping bag. The sky was dark, dotted with uncountable stars. Their only light was the fire and the crescent sliver of the red moon above them. The light moon was dark tonight. The two moons cycled apart from each other, but every once in a while, their new moon landed on the same night. They were getting closer, the red moon only two nights ahead.

  Elsie didn’t bother getting undressed for bed. She kicked her boots off and crawled into the sleeping bag, squirming around until she was comfortable. “Frida, come to bed,” she called. After a few seconds, she heard a squeak of mew and looked over to see a small cream colored head peeking out from Frost’s black fur. The cat was staying with the wolf. Fine.

  Rolling to her side so she didn’t have to look at any of them, Elsie scowled at the shadowy figures of trees reaching far above her head. Wind blowing through the leaves and the distant crash of waves slowly lulled her to sleep as she reminded herself that she had to be awake in two hours time. As exhausted as she was, she pressed the thought firmly enough into her mind that she wasn’t worried about oversleeping this time.

  “That wasn’t nearly enough time,” Wren said softly when Elsie opened her eyes again. She sat up and blinked hard, almost disbelieving what she was seeing. Wren was in her human form again, still completely nude with antlers atop her head. She was lounging on a bed of moss that absolutely hadn’t been there before, and surrounding her were animals.

  A stag took up most of the space, but there was a raccoon, a fisher cat, several types of weasels and squirrels, and even a lynx—a predator curled up and relaxed among all that prey. Above her, an owl looked down on them, its eyes half closed. Elsie squinted. Frida had protested Wren’s presence, but now even she was among them.

  “What the…” She rubbed her eyes. “Who are you?”

  “I’m not ready to tell you that,” Wren replied with a gentle smile. “We know it might seem counterproductive because you’re in such a hurry to find your friend, but you need to sleep.”

  Elsie opened her mouth to speak, but Wren held up her hand. “Give me a chance to speak,” she asserted. “You aren’t healing properly because you aren’t allowing yourself to rest. The more broken down and overused your body is, the easier it will be for that curse to harm you. If you take better care of yourself, keep your body strong, the attacks on your organs won’t come as often.”

  “So far it hasn’t mattered if I get extra sleep or not. They’ve been coming more frequently anyway,” Elsie countered, resting her arms on her knees.

  An image of her getting mad the night Frost had allowed her to sleep in assailed her mind. Along with another image of the sun dial, reminding her that she hadn’t slept more than two hours a night since.

  “You stay out of this,” she hissed at the wolf, who looked away with a huff.

  “Obviously, I cannot stop you from doing what you want, but I can give you advice. And I advise that you stay here for the night. Get some sleep and let your body heal. We’ll be able to make a lot more progress tomorrow if you do,” Wren persisted. “I can help you, if you want.”

  “What do you get out of it?” Elsie asked, trying not to look directly at her. Her mind wanted to wander to the dirtiest of thoughts.

  “Only the benefit of a good night’s sleep,” Wren insisted. “No other cost, this one’s a freebie.”

  Elsie shook her head, and Wren sighed.

  “I figured you’d say no. You hunters are all so damned stubborn.”

  “I’m not a hunter,” Elsie said automatically, nearly flinching at the accusation.

  “You carry their gear. Your bag and the bed roll are just like those used by their kind. It’s possible you could have stolen them, I suppose, but you act like them, too. Stubborn, refusing to accept help when you need it, pretending to be infallible when it’s obvious to everyone around you that you could use a boost. I can’t be fooled that easily.” Wren spared her the first stern look she’d seen on that beautiful face.

  “I used to be one of them,” she admitted, watching Wren pet the lynx, her fingers disappearing into its thick coat.

  “You left them? That’s not possible.”

  Elsie couldn’t fault her disbelief. It was impossible, for anyone else. She knew that better than anybody.

  “My mother is the Goddess of Death,” she started.

  “Which one?” Wren leaned back against the stag, her expression lightening to one of curiosity.

  “Santa Muerte, Saint Death, Santisima, the White Lady, the Gray Lady,” Elsie answered, and Wren nodded.

  “We’ve met.”

  Elsie wasn’t surprised. Her mother was a well-traveled individual with a habit of sticking in a person’s memory. She’d heard the same many times.

  “When I was seven, she left me in the care of a hunter general she knew for my protection. The stipulation was that they were never to make me into a clone of them, that she would take me back when she returned,” she said, chewing on the inside of her lip.

  “She was gone a lot longer than expected. When I was twelve and bored out of my mind, I accepted an apprenticeship. By the time my mother came back for me, I was already promoted to the First Field Commander position. I was in charge of organizing training and operations of every squad captain in the Clans,” she explained.

  “They kept me extremely busy. At the same time, I was captain of the number one squad. We were the best among the elite,” Elsie said it as fact without a hint of pride. She had been proud of her status once. Before Saint had come along and shown her just how misplaced that pride was. Before she’d realized just how fucked up the hunters were.

  “They allowed your mother to take you aw
ay with no problems?” Wren sounded surprised, but the disbelief was gone.

  “No, there were problems. They tried to convince me to stay. They’d given me the promotions and a demon hound as ways to try and make me want to, but it didn’t work. I went with my mother and never looked back. She nearly tore the compound apart in her rage. It’s not smart to mess with Death,” Elsie snickered.

  Frost was watching her from the other side of the fire. He hadn’t been there, she remembered. Santisima had not brought him with them when they’d left Earth for training. Instead, she’d let the wolf go, telling him she’d return for him someday. He’d had freedom for four years until a squad of hunters had dragged him back into her life. It was a miracle he hadn’t torn her apart that first night in her apartment. Though it occurred to her that he might not have recognized her at first. She’d been a child the last time they’d seen each other.

  “What happened to the demon hound?” Wren questioned, and Frost’s ears perked up with interest. Pain struck her heart, and Elsie shook her head.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she answered quickly. Frost’s lips peeled back, showing a flash of his fangs. “Because it’s none of your business,” she snapped at him, guessing the meaning behind his actions.

  She didn’t want to talk about Saint with a stranger and the guy who was only not killing her because it would kill him in the process. She’d barely spoken of him to her own mother, and not until they’d spent months together, when they’d gotten to know each other again.

  “My apologies, I wasn’t aware it was a sore subject,” Wren said gently.

  “I shouldn’t have mentioned him,” Elsie replied. “Forget about it.”

  “Very well.”

  Elsie scooted out of her bed roll and pulled her boots on. Wren had made a few good points about getting some rest, but she liked to think she knew herself well enough. She’d gone with less sleep before. The only reason it was difficult now was that she’d become unused to it, sitting comfortably in her little human town, teaching self-defense and playing house with Mara. She’d be fine.