by Hickory Mack
“Well,” Wren said after they’d looked their fill, “we may as well get you down there. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we get you to whomever has a stockpile of those vials.”
Frost growled again, and Elsie settled a palm on his leg. She didn’t want to go any more than he did. “You’d better go inside the cuff for now, Precious. They’ll lose their shit if I walk in there with you at my side.” Acting like he couldn’t hear her, he made his way down the hill, Frida perched on top of his head.
“Always such an attitude with that one,” Wren laughed. “Put your robe back on and take out your scythe, so they know what you are. Make yourself look like someone they need to respect, and they’ll be less likely to cause a problem.”
Elsie fingered the charm on her bracelet. The spirit had just reminded her that she’d not only made it expand, but she’d used it without a single problem. She opened her mouth to ask, but Wren cut her off.
“Later,” she promised, knowing what she was about to ask.
“I won’t forget,” Elsie warned, and the spirit nodded. She pulled the black robe over her head and let Wren fix her wild hair into a more passable braid. With the scythe in hand, they followed Frost down the hill to the human town. All Elsie could do was send up a prayer to her mother and hope for the best.
Chapter 18
Frost sat his rump down just outside the barrier and waited for the others to catch up. As they drew closer, Elsie covered her face with the billowing sleeve of her robe. Even from outside the barrier, she could smell the livestock. She’d never encountered such a horrid smell. Too many creatures were crammed into too small of a space, and it reeked of feces and urine.
“How do they live like this?” she complained. Wren’s face looked troubled, but she didn’t answer. Elsie caught the glint of mischief in her eyes but left it alone. Whatever the spirit was up to, she wasn’t going to get in the way.
The barrier was thicker and stronger than even the compound she’d grown up in, but the basics were the same. She opened it easily, letting the others through. Because the barrier was opened by someone it recognized as safe, the alarms didn’t sound over the intrusion of a demon.
Actually, three demons. The hunters didn’t differentiate between magical creatures. To them, there were witches and mages, fae and demons. No other creatures were recognized, and anything that didn’t fit in the first three categories was lumped into the fourth. So long as Frida stayed in her cat form, they may just think of her as an odd cat, affected by magic.
The smell was worse on the other side of the barrier, and while Elsie was nearly gagging, Frost lifted his nose and sniffed the air appreciatively. Nasty carnivore. He’d probably eaten things that smelled even worse. Or rolled in it.
She opened her pocket dimension and took out her mask, pulling it over her face to block everything she didn’t want to see, hear, or smell. It gave her anonymity, but it also heightened her senses, letting her focus on what mattered.
“A raven?” Wren asked in surprise. With ravens patrolling the world looking for the fae, she found it an odd choice for one with half-fae blood. Though the mask was black and shaped like a raven, she’d painted it with bright colors. An orange flower around one eye and markings over the brow and cheeks. The beak sparkled in silver and purple designs. “Is there any special significance behind it?”
“Stolas helped me make it,” Elsie said. “He cast it for me; it’s literally a mold of his face. I did the painting like a sugar skull to represent the departed souls I help cross over to wherever they’re supposed to be.”
“You didn’t help the hunters back at the mage village,” Wren commented, and Elsie nodded.
“Normally, I would, even if I couldn’t stand up properly, but I think I was too angry to deal with them. I’d have sent them to a hell dimension to punish them far harsher than they deserved,” she admitted.
“They deserved the harshest punishment you could have come up with,” Wren grumbled, but Elsie laughed.
“That’s why you’d make a poor reaper,” she laughed again. “A lot of my sisters choose masks to emulate our mother. She’s the Goddess of Death, but she’s also the Gray Lady. She helps the living as well. She’s beautiful, mi madre. When she uses her magic to escort the dead home, she becomes a walking skeleton, and that’s the vision they use while reaping. Others use a plague mask or even a simple shroud to cover their faces.”
“Why cover their faces?” Wren asked, looking at her curiously.
“It’s to protect ourselves. Some of the souls we reap are wicked. They were horrible people in life, and they did not part from their lives willingly. We are executioners. To prevent them from cursing us, they do not know our faces or our names,” Elsie explained.
They hopped a fence and walked among a group of alpacas, who snorted and bellowed, running to the other side of their paddock to avoid the wolf. He licked his lips and followed their movements with interest, but Elsie tapped his shoulder with the back of her hand.
“Leave them alone, you monster,” she scolded. “It’s strange that we haven’t seen anybody yet, don’t you think?”
Wren nodded in agreement. “Don’t they have hunters in each nest?”
“They do. Usually, something as big as Frost would send them running. I don’t even see any guard dogs for the sheep, do you?” Elsie questioned, searching the paddock they were in and the one across the fence.
“Nope.”
“Lame,” Elsie sighed. She didn’t want to waste her time searching for the hunters.
A man walked up to the fence they were approaching in an unhurried way, looking their group over with an almost unimpressed look on his face. Elsie wasn’t sure whether to take offense or follow his lead. Masked up, hooded, and cloaked while carrying the Staff of Sanaia in its scythe form, she considered herself to be pretty damned impressive.
“You folks lookin’ for someone in particular?” the man asked in a light Southern drawl.
“Why would you assume that?” Wren asked, her mouth quirking upward in amusement.
“Well, we get two types coming through that barrier. Those lookin’ for someone and those lookin’ to steal a sheep or a kid. Seems to me you’re one of the former. If you were here for the livestock, you wouldn’t be walking away from it, and if you were here for a kid, you wouldn’t be walkin’,” he reasoned.
Elsie stifled a laugh. The guy was completely human. To her eyes, he was a living void, one of few creatures she came across with zero magic. Despite his lack of power, he was calm and logical, and though he had every reason to be scared, there was no fear in his scent. He was treating them like anybody else.
“Do a lot of people come looking for someone else?” Elsie asked, and his brown eyes shifted her direction. He looked at her for a few seconds before answering.
“Girly, we’re the closest nest to those assholes down south. Sometimes we get people coming north, escaping that hellscape. Sometimes we get people heading south, wanting to get in, or around, or through it. All of ‘em ask for Zadian,” the man said.
“Who’s Zadian?” Wren asked.
“He’s an escort of sorts. Well, strictly speaking, he’s a demon. He helps people get where they need to go. He’s related to those who first brought our kind here. He knows the way to the other colonies for those who want to get farther away from those damned vampires,” he explained. A demon in residence explained his lack of fear; it also helped explain why their security was a little lax.
Elsie and Wren shared a grin. Zadian sounded like just the lucky break they needed. He could take them to the hunters’ nest, and Elsie would ask him how he had managed to get the humans to accept him. It must have something to do with this colony being the first. They were closer to their roots. Perhaps some of that gratitude had been passed down from one generation to the next.
“Then that’s who we’d like to speak to,” Elsie said confidently.
“I knew it. It’s always him they want.” The man
shook his head. “But you’re too late. He left three days ago, taking some folks north, and he won’t be back for at least another week. You’re welcome to wait until he returns, though. We actually have a safe house here, for travelers needing to lay low until a decision is made on where they can go.”
“Do the travelers get to decide for themselves?” Wren asked curiously.
“They get an opinion on the matter, and we try to accommodate requests as best we can. The ones heading north are typically heading for a simple life. They’re uneducated and have little to no physical strength, especially the females used for breeding. We don’t get as many as we used to, though. The vampires have gotten wiser about their security practices since the old days,” he said.
“We don’t have time to wait for Zadian to return,” Elsie said. “Can you point us to the hunters’ nest? We require transport.”
“Oh, well, I can help you there,” the man said, perking up. “I don’t have a full squad here, but I’m the head of security in this nest. Captain John Shepherd. Do you mind telling me where you need to go?”
Elsie had seen plenty of humans among their ranks during her time with the Hunter Clans, but never had she seen one in a position of leadership. While it felt far too strange to be true, there wasn’t even a hint of a lie in Shepherd’s words.
She dug in her pocket and flashed a gold coin before tossing it to him. It was the only identification a field agent of the hunters would ever need. When held in the hands of its owner, it showed the Hunter Clan’s crest on one side and the hunter’s ranking on the opposite. If stolen by a demon, it would show what they were on both sides, instantly giving them away.
“We need to join Commander Grant and Angus Cornick,” Elsie said. Captain Shepherd stared at her coin, his eyes widening. Her rank was number one. In all the time she’d been away from them, the hunters hadn’t taken her ranking or clearance away. She had just as much access to their facilities as she always had; Elsie assumed they’d always hoped she’d return to them some day.
Shepherd cleared his throat and gave her an awkward salute, which she returned ironically. “Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t know who I was speaking to. I do not have a high enough clearance to know the location of such high-ranking officials, but if you come with me, I can take you to the control room, so you can ask for that information yourself,” he said.
Elsie gave him a broad smile. Yes. That would do nicely.
Their communications set up was archaic compared to what she’d been spoiled with at the compound, but it was easy to figure out. She dialed in to the broadest frequency, where she’d be intercepted by the greatest number of hunters. Someone would know who she was and direct her to where she needed to be quickly enough.
She set her mask on the desk in front of an array of radios, each with their own range and capabilities. Shepherd had hooked her up with the strongest, an antique beauty that could contact any corner of the continent.
Shepherd gave her the headphones after taking a good look at her face. It didn’t surprise her since everyone wanted a look at the reaper. What did surprise her was that he didn’t even try to avoid walking past Frost to do so. The man was legitimately so desensitized to demons, he didn’t have the sense to fear something as powerful as the wolf. She figured even humans had to have some self-preservation instinct to warn them away from the scarier beasties out there.
Elsie snickered at the disgruntled look on Frost’s face and settled the headset over her ears. Adjusting the volume, she swung the mic in front of her face and sat back before pushing the broadcast button. Frida hopped into her lap and curled up, rolling her belly up in a false invitation. Elsie knew better than to rub that tempting tummy, no matter how squishy and soft it looked.
“This is First Field Commander Elspeth Chantraine looking for a direct link to Commander Grant or Angus Cornick,” she said amid random low-level chatter. The line went dead silent for several beats before she repeated herself, in case anyone was questioning what they’d heard.
“First Field Commander Chantraine, please switch to channel frequency six-two-six,” an unfamiliar voice called out.
“Will do,” Elsie told them, quickly changing the frequency. She repeated her first communication to a silent line.
“Please hold, Commander Chantraine. We are attempting to reach Commander Grant’s security team at the moment,” the same voice assured her.
“Very well,” Elsie said, smiling as she thought of how amused Saint would be that they were still deferring to her. He’d thought it was hilarious that she of all people had been given such a high ranking. Everyone around her had thought her a prodigy. An incredibly level-headed and intelligent leader. He saw her as a lazy ass goof-off who’d rather lay around eating snacks and napping than do her job.
A splash of white in the dark room moved past, and she looked over at Wren. The spirit was walking around on tip toe with her hands behind her back, looking for all the world like some innocent little elf, but Elsie saw where her eyes kept returning. There were surveillance cameras on the flocks, and she was watching them without making it obvious.
“Go ahead and sit down, Shepherd. This is probably going to take a while,” Elsie said. Though he ran a nest with few hunters in residence, he was obeying protocol perfectly, standing at the door when not given orders to act otherwise.
“Thank you, Commander,” he said, taking the seat closest to the door. Elsie hid the flinch her body reacted with. Her fae half had perked up, demanding that she let the poor man know that since he’d admitted she’d done him a favor, he now owed her, and she could collect whenever she wanted. The fae could be assholes like that.
“What’s the name of your nest?” Elsie asked, twirling a pen around her fingers. He looked at her in surprise, then cleared the expression off his face as quickly as he could.
“We’re in Nest Salvation, Commander,” he answered, and his reaction made sense. Salvation wasn’t just a nest in the first colony. It was the first nest ever created to house runaway and liberated humans. Captain Shepherd had reason to be proud of his position. His nest had made history.
Frost heaved out an annoyed sigh and shrank down to a smaller size. He was getting sick of bumping into random objects every time he moved. Elsie reached back to pet his shoulder, wondering just exactly when the wolf had become a source of comfort to her rather than someone she should be pissed at. She didn’t remember making the decision to forgive him for what he’d done on the red planet, but at some point it had happened.
“Commander Chantraine, this is Security Chief Rand. I am on base with Advisor Cornick. He will be on shortly,” a new voice said through the airwaves. Shepherd shook his head with wonderment. Some random woman had wandered into his nest, and it turned out she was capable of demanding a call with the top research specialist in the Clans. Not only had she demanded it, they’d made it happen in less than fifteen minutes from her first communication.
There was some feedback from the other side of the line, and everybody winced. Frost growled angrily and pawed at his ears, but when the feedback died down, a man cleared his throat on the other end.
“Chantraine, so good to hear you’ve finally decided to see reason.” Elsie shivered as Cornick’s voice reached across space to assault her ears. He sounded just as greasy and fake as he always had.
“You didn’t exactly leave me with any options,” she said in her most pleasant, upbeat tone. There was a pause.
“You’re sounding rather chipper,” he said, as though he’d expected otherwise.
“I ran into your little surprise party over with the mages,” Elsie informed him, and he chuckled.
“Convinced you, did they?” Cornick asked, sounding far too sure of himself. This man really thought they’d won her over.
“If they had, would I have needed to come to a nest to speak with you?” she countered. “Callum, Marley, the mage, and both of the assassins you sent to drag me back to wherever you’re holed up are dead.”
“I see,” was all Cornick said.
“Whatever you said to them was especially effective. Your boy Callum was exceptionally devoted to the mission. He was intent on bringing me to you no matter the cost.”
“What did he do?” Cornick asked, and Elsie heard the sound of someone groaning behind him. Angus Cornick wasn’t alone.
“He and the mage attempted to shackle me, and then Callum stabbed me.” She gave him a moment to let the gravity of her words sink in. “As you can imagine, I wasn’t in a negotiating kind of mood after that.”
Someone in the background was cursing, and Elsie’s smile spread wider. They couldn’t blame her for the deaths, not when their people had acted first. She had a very clear self-defense case.
“I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you on the gift you chose to give me. My mother’s wolf was a brilliant choice, the perfect companion. I didn’t even have to lift a finger. He took care of several members of your little squad, and I believe he is responsible for Riven’s death as well,” she taunted. “What a shit move, turning my old friend against me.”
“I’ll admit we were a little hard on Marley and Callum. We thought that since they were your friends, they would be more influential in convincing you to rejoin us,” Cornick said in a sickly sweet voice.
“Wait, you’re not with the hunters?” Shepherd finally spoke up.
“Not anymore,” Elsie answered, sparing him a glance. “But they desperately want me to be.”
“There are others in the room with you?” Cornick barked, and Elsie laughed.
“And there are others with you. Why don’t they introduce themselves?” she suggested. “It’s not like I didn’t know they were there.”
