Reaper (Dragon Prophecies Book 1)

by Hickory Mack

  “What are the needles for?”

  “This is a mild sedative to help you relax. Mister Cornick is concerned that you may feel some anxiety, which will stop you from getting a good night’s sleep,” the woman explained with a smile on her face.

  “I refuse.”

  “Mister Cornick thought you might say that. I am to inform you that if you choose not to take it, you will instead be forced to choose which of your companions will lose a finger or a toe. Unless you would like to see it happen to all three.” Those words were delivered without a single falter in that smile. She hadn’t even blinked. This woman was psychotic.

  Elsie called her magic and closed the gate, then one of her guards immediately stepped forward and took the Staff of Sanaia from her hands—as if it would stop her from doing any magic.

  “Fine. Just do it.”

  “This will not take your magic away. The dampener has not been part of a long-term study, so we do not yet know if there are any side effects caused by prolonged or frequent use. So long as you cooperate, the dampener will not be administered.” The woman approached without asking and started wiping the inside of Elsie’s elbow with an antiseptic.

  “Thank you ever so much for the consideration,” Elsie said bitterly.

  It wasn’t until she woke up the next day that she realized how strong their ‘mild’ sedative had been. She showered, dressed, and ate, then complied with her escort taking her back down to the gate. Elsie opened it, and Cornick went inside, an air of self-importance about him. Fifteen minutes later, another crowd of armed men came out with a group of orderlies, surrounding the same girl.

  This time, she was awake, though they hadn’t taken away the effects of the dampener. None of the magic she’d been spilling all over the place was present. She was so thoroughly strapped to the table she couldn’t even turn her head. Tears poured down her cheeks, but this girl wasn’t scared. That was relief on her face.

  Less than an hour passed before screams came from the next floor up, and Elsie heard a single gunshot.

  “Let’s go.” Her guards shoved her forward, pushing her onto the elevator. Elsie’s heart pounded as she promised herself she wouldn’t get involved in any of this. She didn’t give a fuck if one of the hunters had been shot.

  As the elevator opened, her guards pushed her into the hallway but stopped short once they were out. The same gurney had been pushed flat, and the girl had a frenzied look on her face. With all those restraints, she was the one who’d been shot. Before they made it halfway to the elevator, Angus Cornick came howling down the hall, his face so red the scar across his eye flashed angrily.

  He leaned over, inches from the girl’s face. “What did you do, you wretched little creature?”

  “What are you talking about?” Elsie called out. “All she’s done is bleed all over the table.”

  Cornick looked at her with rage in his eyes, looking like he was on the edge of losing his shit. As if any of this was her fault...

  “The fox is already unresponsive again. Get her cleaned up and brought back first thing in the morning. Six A.M. I have use for her,” Cornick barked. “I’ll need triple the guards tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir,” one of the guards around the girl replied. Cornick spun on his heels and stalked away, and Elsie frowned at his back. Apparently, she’d be getting up early tomorrow. The least he could have done was ask.

  They rode back down the elevator, which was so packed Elsie huddled herself into the corner to avoid letting anybody touch her. She could see nothing of the witch at all. They pushed the girl through the gate, and there was silence once more.

  “Well, that was horrible,” Elsie said after a few moments, but her guards said nothing in return. It seemed she was meant to just wait here for nothing. Another hour went by, but nobody came or went. Then another hour. And another. When an orderly finally approached, she stretched, expecting to be told she could go.

  “You are not to go anywhere,” the orderly said, and Elsie felt her expression sour. “The girl has asked to see her father.”

  “Her father?”

  Another group of armed soldiers stepped off the elevator, and Elsie nearly laughed in surprise when she saw who it was. Stanley Eustone was being brought to see the witch.

  Chapter 45

  Pascal

  He looked out the window of his second-story room. He’d had to get one at a seedy hole in the wall called the Five Oaks, a hostel with a saloon on the first floor, since the only respectable boarding house in town was booked out. For the first time in his life, he had no interest in the pleasure houses.

  Lithia sat at his feet, staring up at him bitterly. He hadn’t let her or any of the other girls touch him since his mate had asked him to make them stop. He waved a hand toward the corner, where Lithia’s sisters were crowded around a demon they’d caught. Pascal didn’t care if they used some random for their meal if it meant he could honor Elspeth’s wishes. It wasn’t like they’d kill the guy.

  His eyes rose to the sky. With the sun above a thick covering of clouds, it wasn’t as easy to tell the time, but his eyes could still pick out its positioning. His fingers tapped against the windowsill. He’d been specific with her, and with the way she’d looked at him when she left, he doubted she’d disobey him on purpose. Something had gone wrong.

  “Your time is up, pretty girl,” he growled. Glancing at the corner where the pink-skinned salamander demon crouched, he barked orders at the girls. “Let that one go. We’ll find you some prey. Don’t touch anyone until I give the okay.”

  They hissed, their black eyes glittering with interest. His girls loved a good hunt. They backed away from the demon, who had a glazed look in his eyes. Pascal wondered if the guy had ever let anyone feed off his magic before. It wasn’t like the girls had found him days ago; they’d barely had him for six hours. He’d be fine. Eventually.

  He walked out the door, his boots heavy on the scuffed wooden floors. Making his way toward the stairs, he could feel his girls coming behind them, grinning maliciously. The layout of the hostel required him to go through the saloon to exit, a way to entice clients into eating their crap food, and the diners were going to get a nasty surprise. Few people could look at one of his girls without fear, let alone all twelve of them at once.

  They moved strangely, both too fast and too stiff all at once. Some of them practically slithered, moving along the walls or crouched low to the floor. All of them were a mix of sultry seductresses and unmasked horror with claws and fangs, horns and solid black eyes.

  People turned to look before he even reached the bottom of the stairs. Most talk ground to a stop, except for two men deep in conversation. Pascal nearly ignored them, making his way across the saloon to the door, but then he caught a name spoken in a Northern accent that drew his attention. Lady Chiori. What the hell was a name like that doing in a place like this? Pausing, he looked them over curiously.

  The first one wasn’t anyone important— a water sprite who looked far too soft to have any affiliation with the name he’d heard spoken. The other was a wyvern. He looked like a fucking super model, with spiky black hair, a trimmed beard, and a long, lean body. More importantly, this one had power.

  As Pascal crossed the room to them, they both looked up, and he noticed the wyvern had mismatched eyes. Both bright and intelligent, but one was green, the other red. His brows furrowed as he stood, offering a bow.

  “Lord Pascal?” he questioned, taking Pascal by surprise.

  “We’ve met?”

  “Not for many years. My name is Moscow. I’m in service to Lord Makkai.”

  There it was. The stupidest thing he’d heard all week.

  “Well, there’s no need to be ashamed. We all make stupid decisions in our youth. I remember you now, but you were much younger the last I saw you,” Pascal said as his girls surrounded the table. A hair-raising growl came from the opposite side where a huge black panther stood, its tail twitching. Amusing. His girls gave the cat space.


  “Everyone ages eventually,” Moscow said. “Allow me to introduce you. This is High Lord Lucifer, of the Nine. He is the newest of Lady Chiori’s mates.”

  Ah, now that made sense. The Harbinger of Death would scare the shit out of his girls. He stared at the cat for an uncomfortably long moment. This was almost poetic justice. That bastard fox already had to deal with her incubus mate, and now there was a harbinger as well. Pascal’s brain misfired as it all came together. Son of a bitch. He’d met the incubus once, and the fucker was half witch. He knew who Elsie had been looking for.

  “What the devil are you doing here?” Pascal asked, and the wyvern shared a look with the cat before answering.

  “I don’t know how much you heard about what happened, but the hunters took Lord Makkai.”

  The room came into sharp focus. Everything felt closer, every sound louder, every scent more obnoxious. Pascal was full of bravado, the type of man who couldn’t be scared by just anything, but as much shit as he liked to talk, he was afraid of Lord Makkai.

  “I came with Lady Chiori and a few others to bring him home, but now the hunters have everyone else, too. Lord Lucifer, Croix, and I are planning to go get them out of there tonight. To be honest, we’d be grateful if you’d be willing to help us,” Moscow said.

  Several things suddenly made sense. His desire to come south had started the day Makkai was taken. Elspeth must have been there that day. She’d helped the hunters take down the devil’s black fox, and now she was in a facility with him. Not only that, but they’d taken Lady Chiori, Lord Makkai’s great love. The fox was going to kill everyone in his path on his way out, including Elspeth, unless he got to her first.

  “Why are you waiting until tonight?”

  “Time flows differently there. Lady Chiori asked Lucifer to come at six A.M. their time. She’ll be ready then. So far, we have a hundred demons willing to fight with us.”

  Pascal looked at the cat. The Harbinger of Death. The two of them could do it alone, but it wouldn’t hurt to have others. He would be too busy finding his mate.

  “I have one condition,” he said, and Moscow nodded.

  “Name it.”

  “My mate is in there, too. You give me time to get her the hell out of there before you set Makkai free. I want a five-minute head start.”

  The wyvern looked troubled, but he nodded his head. “Agreed.”

  “How much time until we go?”

  “Four more hours,” Moscow answered. Pascal pulled out a chair and sat down.

  “If you’re here with the lady of your house, why aren’t you with her?” he asked, directing his next question to the harbinger. “And why the hell aren’t you with your mate?”

  The cat growled, and the temperature in the room rose to an uncomfortable heat. Pascal locked eyes with him. He may not be at this guy’s level, but he felt confident he’d be able to hold his own.

  “We were separated while attacking the compound,” Moscow said. “They have a lot of demons in there, and the place is like a fucking maze. Lord Lucifer tried to convince Lady Chiori to come back with him, but she refused. She won’t leave without Lord Makkai.”

  “Did you see a reaper while you were in there?” he asked, and the sprite went pale.

  “Aha, there is a reaper!” Moscow said. “I’d thought so. That gate was impressive; she must have a lot of power. We didn’t see her though. Lady Chiori and the others made it further than we did, so they might have.”

  Pascal felt a wave of pride for his mate, but he wondered whether she’d be able to fight against the chaotic creature that was Lady Chiori if they met. The girl was a force of fucking nature. Would Elspeth be crazy enough to fight her? Another thought hit him, and he scowled.

  No, his mate hated the hunters, and she wanted to get away from them. She’d try to use the attack to her advantage. Fuck. It explained why she was late. Those mutts and the witch had better not let anything happen to her. He stood up and walked out the door, unable to stay still. He had to get this energy out, or he’d do something stupid.

  Moscow followed, the sprite behind him, but the cat was nowhere to be found. “Do you want to help us recruit more people to help? The people of this town are sick and tired of the hunters being so nearby, always a threat that can attack at any time. The response has been positive so far,” Moscow said.

  “No,” Pascal answered. “Lords are forbidden from recruiting anyone in this town. The bison will have me thrown out.”

  “Bison? You mean the minotaur?” Moscow laughed.

  “Whatever the hell that thing is.” Something brushed against his calf, and he looked down, ready to send one of his girls back to the spirit world, but it wasn’t any of them. It was Elspeth’s cat, in her alebrije form. He didn’t care what anybody thought; he squatted down in the middle of the street to give the cat a scratch behind the ear.

  “Is Elspeth okay?” he asked, and the cat chirped at him. It rubbed against him, then ran a few steps and chirped again. She was trying to lead him toward the clearing, where he knew the gate was. The same place Elsie had opened her door to go in and out. If the cat wanted him to go to her, she was in trouble.

  “Who’s this?” Moscow asked, and the alebrije walked over to him, rubbing against his legs as well. Pascal didn’t like that at all. He scooped the traitorous little beastie up, taking her away from the wyvern before he could bend down and pet her.

  “This is Frida.”

  “She kind of reminds me of Lady Chiori’s birds. They have the same patterns in their feathers,” Moscow said, not knowing how much Pascal resented his attention toward the little cat. “Her birds are a lot scarier, though. That little one seems friendly. I like her.”

  “She belongs to my mate. Do not let me catch you touching her,” he growled, and the wyvern averted his eyes as any intelligent demon should.

  “Yes, Lord Pascal,” he said easily.

  “She wouldn’t be here if her master weren’t in trouble. If you two can’t move up your little invasion plans, I’ll be going ahead without you. My Lady needs me, and I won’t let her down.”

  “Please reconsider,” Moscow said urgently. “It’s only four hours. Less than four hours! We have a greater chance of success if we all go at once. We’ll save our Lady and yours, and Lord Makkai will take care of the rest.”

  It hurt Pascal’s pride to hear it said like that. This little punk thought Makkai could do anything he couldn’t?

  “Sorry, kid, I’m needed now.” He took a step forward before something grabbed the collar of his shirt and slammed him onto his back. The harbinger of death stood over him, flames swirling around his feet. With a growl, the ground opened up beneath him, and Pascal fell through the earth. When it gave way to endless sky, he continued falling.

  The fucking harbinger had put him in another dimension to stop him from helping Elspeth. Even if it took centuries, he would find his opportunity and kill the fucker with his bare hands.

  Pascal consoled himself with the knowledge that his girls would have gone on the attack as soon as the harbinger laid his hands on him. Sure, they were afraid of the asshole, but it wasn’t like he could kill them. They were contracted souls, so not even the gods could take them away from him.

  It wouldn’t help him get to where he wanted to be. He’d never felt so connected to anyone before. Nobody had ever needed him the way Elspeth needed him. For the first time in his life, Pascal had someone to take care of, but he’d allowed her to convince him to let her go. That would not happen again. Once she was back with him, where she belonged, he would never let her out of his sight. He just had to get to her.

  He could tear his way through to the next dimension, but he had no way of knowing if it was a place he could survive. Let alone know if it was Earth or not. The only reason he’d been confident he could get to Elspeth was that she’d used a doorway. She’d already laid the path for him to follow. If he screwed up, he would never see her again. There was no way the harbinger would spend
time searching for him if he ended up in some other dimension.

  Taking a deep breath, he tried to find the ground, but no matter where he turned, he couldn’t discover which way was up or down. The light here had no discernable source, and it didn’t matter how he oriented his body, he was always falling.

  He closed his eyes and spread out his limbs, slowing his descent. If he was going to keep falling, he may as well have some semblance of control. Pascal took another deep breath, then another, and the instinctual reaction of his muscles tensing up slowly eased.

  He relaxed and accepted his situation, letting his mind wander and choose a subject to focus on, unsurprised that it was Elsie. He thought of her lips and how she tasted. Pascal loved how easy it was to unsettle her, the way her pupils dilated when she looked at him. She was fun to play with, and his imaginings turned to just how he planned to seal their bond.

  The flavor of the air changed, and he flipped over, facing downward. The Earth rushed toward him at an alarming speed, and he didn’t have wings. Pascal threw earth magic toward the ground, and it rose up to meet him, catching him in a cocoon of soil that slowed his fall.

  The second he was down, he burst out of the cocoon, dirt flying. Darting across the space between them, he landed a hard blow on the panther’s skull, almost burning himself in the process, but he didn’t give a fuck. The cat gave him the satisfaction of staggering slightly, his lip curling up to show a long, deadly fang.

  Moscow and a few hundred others stood in shock, watching his retaliation. “I have been falling for a fucking hour,” he growled, his hands still balled into fists.

  “It’s been four hours here,” Moscow told him. “We’re ready.”

  They were in the clearing, ready to go, and for the first time Pascal noticed the wyvern was carrying a scythe, Frida standing next to him. He pointed at the cat with a scowl on his face.