Reaper (Dragon Prophecies Book 1)

by Hickory Mack

  “But—”

  “I knew there was a but…”

  “I want to free the fox.”

  “That’s a terrible idea.”

  “I’m the reason he’s stuck here. If it weren’t for Frost and me, he’d be out there doing whatever the hell terrifying demon foxes do.”

  “Terrifying?” Saint nearly rolled his eyes.

  “Come meet him. I’ll prove it.”

  “No need. I trust you. I’m just trying to remember the last time I saw you terrified of anything. I always thought you were some kind of unstoppable badass.”

  “I wouldn’t hunt this one, not even with a handpicked squad and you at my side,” she admitted.

  “What’s your plan for setting something like that free?”

  “My thought is time manipulation, plus a well-placed doorway back to Earth. If I freeze time in the room he’s in, I can undo his restraints, set the doorway underneath him, and then let time return to normal. Gravity will drop him back to Earth, I close the door, and poof. Done.”

  “Poof. That simple?”

  “Do you think it’s not?”

  “If he’s as strong as you think he is, what’s stopping him from moving while time is stopped? What’s stopping him from ripping you apart?”

  “They’ve got him heavily drugged.” Her robe was on the other side of the room, so she couldn’t show him the dart she’d yet to test for herself.”He can barely move, let alone attack me.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “It’s not going to be that difficult, I swear.”

  “Mistress, if you attempt to do this, I’ll tell Frost.”

  Elsie’s mouth dropped open. “You’ll what?”

  “The wolf will stop you, right? I may not be capable of using force against you, but he won’t have the same issue.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would.”

  “What would be your next option if I convince Frost to help me?”

  “He won’t. He needs you to live, and the fox is too big of a risk.”

  “Hmph.”

  “Please don’t force me to fight dirty and get that stupid wolf involved.”

  “We’ll see,” she grumbled at him. “He won’t always be around, you know. How are you going to bully me into doing what you want when he’s gone?”

  “Wren.”

  Elsie laughed and smashed him in the face with a pillow. “You’re so dead.”

  “Am I?” he spluttered, grabbing the pillow and smacking her thigh. “You forget I know your secret.”

  “Pfft, which secret?” she asked, whacking his shoulder and stomach. He launched himself forward and sat on her middle, giving her a wicked grin. Stealing her pillow, he curled his fingers into claws and wiggled them at her. Elsie’s eyes widened in panic, and she giggled, wriggling in an attempt to get away. “Don’t you dare!”

  “Then take it back,” he ordered, his smile widening enough to show off his fangs.

  “I won’t!”

  “Uh…” Cross said from the doorway as he awkwardly turned around. “You need more time.”

  “No! Cross, wait!” Elsie shrieked as Saint’s fingers brushed over her most ticklish places. He turned around in alarm, which softened when she dissolved into laughter. “Help!”

  “Sorry, Chantraine. Maybe you ought to do as the man asked.”

  Saint froze at that. He hadn’t noticed the witch come in, so he’d probably overheard some of what they’d said. Grabbing a blanket, he yanked it over them and flopped over, burying his face in Elsie’s hair.

  “Ugh, you big baby!” she said, but she cuddled him anyway. “Seriously, Cross, stay. We’ll put our pajamas on and behave ourselves. We’ve decided to stay here tonight. The bed isn’t huge, but we can all squeeze in.”

  He looked toward the door, but she could feel it in their bond. He wanted to say yes. “Saint, go get dressed,” she ordered. He grunted, glaring at Cross until the witch turned away before getting up to find his boxers. He tossed his shirt toward Elsie, and she caught it with a smile, pulling it on.

  “There! See? Everybody’s decent,” she said, scooting over until she was in the middle of the bed. Saint crawled in next to her, snuggling in close, his nose pressed up against her throat so he could breathe her in while he slept.

  “Should we set an alarm?” Cross asked, and Elsie nodded.

  “We may as well get a full eight hours of sleep. We’ll still have time for a good breakfast and be there before dawn,” she reasoned.

  Cross set the alarm and turned off all the lights but one before taking off his shirt and crowding into the bed. It was a tight fit, the three of them in a full-sized bed, but for Elsie, it was worth it. They both had to lay close to her even though they’d ordinarily keep their distance from one another. She loved how good it felt to be held by both of them at once.

  “I love you guys,” she murmured, smiling to herself when Saint kissed her throat in response.

  “I love you too,” Cross replied, and Elsie kissed the top of his head before letting their warmth lull her to sleep.

  Mouro was sitting at the same bench when they returned in the morning, well rested and temporarily satisfied. Elsie’s step faltered when her eyes focused and she realized what she was seeing.

  The demon lay with his head in the lap of one of his ‘dolls’ as she stroked his hair and fed him bits of a sandwich. In a line on either side of the bench were nearly a dozen more dolls, each of them entwined around random people. Some looked terrified, others pissed the fuck off.

  “Mouro,” she called as she came closer, and he looked over with a smile.

  “There you are, love. I was wondering when you’d be back. I know I said to come find me at the boarding house, but I got bored and went to find you a gift instead. I hope you’re not too disappointed.” He sat up and gestured to the people his dolls were holding against their will. Elsie couldn’t estimate how much magic it must take to animate that many of them at once, but she still couldn't feel a thing from him.

  “What have you done?” she asked. Saint stood at her side, Cross two steps behind her, and she could feel his disgust.

  “You wanted witches, but I didn’t pay attention to the specifics, so I wasn’t sure which one. Turns out there’s a lot of them in this damned place. These are the ones I could find for you, so I held them here for you to inspect. To be honest, I can’t see what you’d want with any of them. They’re not very strong,” Pascal informed her.

  ‘He’s got eleven witches here, and we don’t need a single one,’ Saint growled, but Elsie caught the undercurrent of amusement in his emotions.

  “A red-haired incubus and the dark-haired girl holding his leash. None of them are the two we’re looking for,” Elsie said, and the wolverine sighed.

  “I was afraid of that. Ladies, take a good look at the witches we already have. They’re not the right ones. Don’t bring them to me a second time,” he ordered. “You can let them go. They’re of no use to my Lady.”

  “We really need to work on your morals,” Elsie muttered, running forward and blocking a witch that attempted to stab him from behind. “Be smart. Just walk away.”

  The witch gave her a withering look, cursed under her breath, and spit at Elsie’s feet before disappearing into the early morning darkness. Before she could react, Mouro grabbed her arm and spun her toward him, tucking her into his embrace.

  “What are you doing?” She tried unsuccessfully to wiggle free. “You’d better not try taking me anywhere I don’t want to go again.”

  “I’m thanking you,” he chided. “Nobody bothers trying to protect me. I find it sweet. Endearing even.”

  “Let’s drop it.”

  “Were you afraid that witch would hurt me? I assure you, it takes a lot more than a blade like that one. Wolverines, well, our skin is even thicker than badgers. It’s not like there was magic imbued in the steel or anything. Just an ordinary blade.” He cupped her face and slid his thumb across her lowe
r lip. “You don’t have to be afraid for me, Elspeth.”

  “Mouro, I said drop it.”

  “Tell me something, then. Did they do their part? Was your night as perfect as you’d imagined it would be?”

  “I’m not going to talk about that with you.”

  “Oh? I was merely wondering to what lengths I will have to go to make last night into a distant memory. You do remember my promise, don’t you, love?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave in a seductive purr.

  Elsie closed her eyes, scarcely able to breathe. “I’m asking you to stop.”

  “You don’t want me?” Mouro asked in confusion, his long lashes fluttering as he blinked several times. She shook her head, but she couldn’t lie.

  “I want you,” she whispered.

  “Then what’s the problem, love?”

  “I don’t know you. And you’re kind of an asshole.”

  Pascal tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes, giving her a devilishly sexy smile before letting her go. “An asshole I may be, but never let it be said that Mouro Pascal has ever taken a woman against her will.”

  Elsie didn’t move. She couldn’t. She wanted to close the few inches of distance he’d put between them in the worst way, but she had to stay strong. “I—”

  “If you thank me, I’ll be taking another favor, and this time I won’t go so easy on you,” he promised. He bent down, nuzzling his face into her hair. “And, love?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’ll be begging for me soon enough.”

  Elsie swallowed hard, curling her fingers together to stop herself from touching him again. She believed him.

  ‘Where did his beasties go?’ Saint asked, reminding her that both he and Cross were still there. ‘Did he really send them to go kidnap more witches?’

  “Kidnap is such a strong word,” Pascal said when Elsie asked him. “I prefer to call it an invitation they can’t refuse.”

  “Do you get away with this kind of thing where you’re from?” she asked, and he smirked.

  “All the time. It’s a lot more fun at home, though. A much bigger challenge. If I steal someone from my neighboring Lords, I consider it their loss for not protecting their property better. Roth used to get so pissed off!” His shoulders shook with silent laughter, then he sobered up just as quickly. “Of course, he’s dead now. I’ll have to find some other way to amuse myself.”

  “So you’re a bully,” Elsie scoffed.

  “Is that how you see it? Hmmm, I’ve never thought of our rivalry like that. It was kind of a game between us. Only he didn’t win nearly so often. But oh, how he’d gloat when he did.” Pascal scratched his beard.

  “I swear to fuck if you don’t let me go, I’m going to hex your ancestors,” a woman’s voice said from the next block over.

  “Oh, good! Sounds like we have another candidate!” Pascal said jovially.

  “That’s pretty fucked up,” Cross said. “It’s still dark out. There’s nobody on the streets, so where did you even find her?”

  “I haven’t sent them into anybody’s houses or rooms if that’s what you’re asking,” Pascal answered.

  “Let the witch go,” Elsie hissed, looking toward the source of the voice. Thankfully, the witch wasn’t in view yet. They were never going to find anyone to help them at this rate.

  “I’d always thought the ancient magic only picked mates that you’re compatible with,” Cross said bitterly. “How is it you managed to form a bond with her?”

  Pascal slowly turned toward the witch, the expression on his face darkening. “From what I’ve gathered, she likes me just fine the way I am. Maybe you’ve gotten too used to spending time around the kitty cat and the tame puppy she hangs with and lost your head a bit.”

  Elsie put her hand on Saint’s arm as she felt a flash of anger in their bond. He’d been an entirely different demon before he’d been handed over to a ‘Beast Master’ for training. They’d beaten the fight out of him, doing everything they could to break his spirit. How he’d come out of it with his sanity intact still amazed her.

  “Mouro—”

  “It’s alright, love. You don’t have to be ashamed of the parts of you that are compatible with a man like me. Somewhere under that sweet facade is a woman who is every bit as willing to do whatever it takes for her mate as I am. You have a need, and I’m doing my best to see it taken care of,” he said.

  Elsie hadn’t thought about it until now. There was a part of her that connected her to each of her mates, something inside that called to them and made them her own. Saint was her equal. He made her feel safe, needed, and loved. Wren bolstered her confidence, bringing her laughter and curiosity. Cross made her feel secure and sane; he was the voice of reason to her bits of crazy.

  She looked at Pascal, wondering just what it was that called him to her. Maybe he was right. Maybe she needed him to help her break free of the restrictions she placed on herself. Maybe it was his feral tendencies that made her want him so much. Gods help her, she’d be devastated if he decided to walk away.

  Slipping her arm around Saint’s waist, she hugged him tight then rose up on her toes to kiss him. “I think it’s best if I take some time alone with Mouro,” she said, surprising the wolfhound demon.

  ‘You said you don’t want to be alone with him,’ he reminded her.

  “I did, but I changed my mind.”

  Saint heaved a great sigh, then shifted, becoming the hound. He butted his head against her shoulder, and she stroked his fur, kissing his cheek. “Stay away from the compound and their drones.”

  He turned and sprinted away without looking back.

  “I guess I’ll go for a walk,” Cross said, frowning. “I’d feel a lot better if one of us were with you. At least Frost.”

  “I have Frida,” she reminded him, nodding at the cat who was too busy chewing on grass to care what they were up to. The witch gave her a look, and she took his hand and kissed it. “I’ll be fine. He isn’t going to hurt me.”

  “Not unless you ask me to, love. But even then, I have my limits.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  “I’m more worried about him taking you from us,” Cross told her, but she shook her head.

  “That’s not possible anymore. I could be anywhere on this planet and still be able to make my way back to this spot. There’s nothing anyone could do to stop me from coming back to you and Saint,” she assured him. He gave the demon an extra long stare, kissed Elsie, and walked away.

  She pressed her hand to her chest, massaging the place where their bonds connected them. It hurt to watch them walk away. It hurt to be away from them at all.

  “Are they always that dramatic where you’re concerned?” Pascal asked, and Elsie scowled at him. If he’d been standing any closer, she’d have smacked him.

  “They don’t trust you, and you haven’t given them any reason to. Our bonds are new, and it’s painful to even think of being separated from each other, let alone actually being apart. Even this little bit hurts,” she said. He gave her a curious look, toying with a bit of her hair.

  “Why did you send them away if it hurts so much?”

  “Because it’s pretty obvious that we need to talk. There needs to be some kind of ground rules,” she said.

  “Ground rules?” he echoed in surprise. “Love—”

  “Never call Saint ‘tamed’ again. He may be quiet and gentle, but he fights at my side with a ferocity I have rarely seen in anybody else. The hunters killed his entire family and tortured him for months so he could be presented as a gift to me. Saint is my fucking life, and I will happily murder anyone that hurts him. Even you. He is precious to me. Do not fuck with him.”

  Silence stretched between them, and she was pleased to see all the humor and amusement had dropped out of his expression. He was actually managing to look contrite.

  “I was out of line, and you have my sincerest apologies. I will remember in the future, I swear it,” he said, holding his hand up.
“What about the witch? Is he not precious to you?”

  “Cross has strong emotional fortitude. Outside of his immense dislike of you, there’s little you could say to hurt him. I’m confident he will put you in your place himself if he feels he must.”

  “Noted and respected. You can treat each of us as individuals instead of blindly overprotecting everybody. I can appreciate that. What of the fourth?” he asked.

  “You are the fourth,” she scoffed, but he shook his head, touching a finger to the hand covering her chest.

  “There are only three of us here,” he said. “I can feel souls, darling. That makes it easy to know how many are attached to your own.”

  “Wren is Korshyo. We cannot form our bond until the equinox.”

  “You have mated with magic itself? That is not something I knew to be possible. You’re a very interesting person, Elspeth.”

  “Not all magic, just the earth.”

  “Just the earth? Korshyo is just the oldest and most powerful of all the elements, with the exception of one, and I’ve never met anyone strong enough to wield it,” Pascal said.

  The sun. He was talking about those who could harness the magic of a star. They were an extreme rarity, and their power was immense. Over half of those born with the capability of using sun magic died an early death, losing control of their magic. Wren’s magic was strong, but far less volatile.

  “She doesn’t need my protection from you,” Elsie said, bringing them back to their conversation. “However, if you piss me off too much, I’ll be the one protecting you from her, so mind your manners if you want me to save you.”

  “Is that a second ground rule I’m sensing? Minding my manners?” he asked, his eyes far too sparkly for her liking. It made her feel like he was brewing up some kind of mischief in that crazy head of his.

  “No. The second ground rule has to do with your dolls,” she said, and he tilted his head curiously.

  “You want me to stop using them to find witches for you?” he asked.

  “No. Well, yes, that too. How are we supposed to get the witches to help us if you’re literally kidnapping them off the streets?” she asked, exasperated. He laughed but nodded, snapping his fingers.