Reaper (Dragon Prophecies Book 1)

by Hickory Mack

  ‘I guarantee my singing voice is better here in your head than in real life,’ Elsie sniffled. She’d never questioned Stolas’ song choice when she was a child, but now she wondered who he’d actually been singing about. Her mother, perhaps? Certainly not the surly, stubborn child she’d been back then.

  ‘Saint, I—’

  She was yanked out of his head, slamming back into her own with the impact of falling from a second-story window. Elsie grabbed her chest and dragged in a deep gasp, struggling to get air. Wren had his fingers pressed to her forehead. He looked worn out, and he’d dragged her out of there.

  “No! He needs me!” she yelped.

  “Easy, love,” Mouro soothed.

  “You’ve been in there for hours, reaper,” Wren said softly.

  “Hours?”

  “We’ve stopped his internal bleeding, but I want to take him into the demon town. They have herbs that will help his organs heal and start working properly. Several have stopped working, so we need to restart his kidneys, liver, and magic well,” Wren explained.

  Every magical creature had at least one well. Generally over the heart chakra, its depth and capacity were different for each person. Some people with excessive amounts of magic had extra wells in their palms and on their feet to keep the magic safely circulating.

  Elsie’s fingers curled around strands of Saint’s fur. “The dampener hasn’t worn off?” she asked in alarm.

  “Not yet,” Cross said, and Elsie looked toward him, the corners of her lips drawing upward.

  “You’re awake! Thank the gods.”

  “You should thank the wolverine,” Wren acknowledged begrudgingly. “He helped.”

  “Thank you, Mouro and Wren. Thank you for choosing to help them.”

  “It wasn’t much of a choice,” Wren sighed. “We couldn’t have our girl grieving over these two, now could we?”

  A blaze of heat came from behind them, followed by the sound of a nearby explosion. Elsie whirled around to see that behind the veil of her door, a hot fire raged out of control. There was no way anyone or anything could survive something like that.

  “Is that because of Muethdee?” she asked, but Wren shook his head.

  “That’s all the fox’s doing. I don’t feel any of my brother’s magic involved. I haven’t seen anything of him since he went through, either,” he said without a single trace of worry. “Fiery can take care of himself.”

  “What about Frost?” she questioned, grabbing the cuff to see if it was warm.

  “He hasn’t come yet either,” Cross said regretfully.

  “Oh no,” Elsie whispered.

  “Don’t worry,” Wren said. “That old monster can’t be killed by something like this. I’d thought it was pretty crazy that some random mages were able to create a containment spell strong enough to kill him if you die. I’m starting to wonder if they weren’t helped by someone else with a grudge against the wolf.”

  “Who would have a grudge against him?” Elsie asked.

  “Who doesn’t?” Wren tossed back, then looked from Pascal to Cross. “The two of you can carry the hound back to town. We need those herbs if we’re going to save him.”

  “Why should we have to be the ones to carry him? Are you too delicate to do the work?” Mouro growled, and Elsie put a hand on his arm.

  “Would you like to find out?” Wren asked, the fan covering the lower half of his face so all they could see were his sharp eyes.

  “No, he wouldn’t,” Elsie said quickly, trying to defuse the situation. “Cross is still recovering. He shouldn’t be expected to do anything.”

  “The brujo is fine,” Wren said, waving a hand at him. “He had no serious injuries. They were simply keeping him sedated and magic free.”

  Elsie eyed Cross suspiciously. He looked a lot better, but that didn’t mean he actually was. Wanting Saint to get better too, she refused to wait another second. She staggered to her feet, surprised she could put her full weight on both her legs. One of them had healed her while she was in Saint’s head. “Thank you, whichever one of you healed me.”

  “That would be Miss Frida,” Wren said, giving the alebrije a favorable look.

  “She’s never done anything like that before.” Elsie blinked, and the cat chirped at her.

  “I think we aren’t done learning all the little talents she’s hidden away,” Cross spoke up. “Alebrije have many different abilities, but sometimes it takes extraordinary circumstances before they begin to show any.”

  Elsie bent down, positioning Saint’s paws so she could carry him herself, even as Cross and Mouro both lunged forward to stop her. The wolverine lifted her back to her feet.

  “Let us take care of it, love,” he said, hauling Saint’s front end onto his shoulder.

  “Be careful with him,” Elsie stressed, fidgeting with her hands. Another explosion detonated, this one strong enough to send a blast of flames through the veil of her door.

  “Perhaps it’s time to close that before the fox sets this world on fire, too,” Wren suggested, and Elsie looked at him in shock.

  “How can you say that? What if Frost tries to come through there? Or your brother? How will they get back to Earth?” she asked. Wren walked over, his kimono billowing in the light wind.

  “You really are lost to grief right now, aren’t you? The wolf doesn’t need a doorway to return to you, you silly thing. As for Muethdee, he can use the same gateway the fox seems to be intent on reaching. Have faith in them. They’ll make it out on time,” he assured her, stroking her cheek.

  “Right. Right, that’ll work,” Elsie muttered. With Frida sticking to her side like glue, Elsie walked as close as she could to the doorway without getting herself burned. While the veil itself glowed the bright red and orange of a blazing flame, it was like standing in front of an incinerator on a hot day.

  Holding her hands out in front of her, Elsie pulled the doorway closed as sweat formed on her brow. She struggled against the magically powered fire pressing against it, but she didn’t give up even though her hands were scalded like she’d plunged her hands into boiling water. She couldn’t leave the doorway open for any random creature to find and use. Despite the resistance, she forced it closed, pushing extra magic into sealing the spot so it wouldn’t be left as an exploitable weak spot between the two dimensions.

  “We’ll come back after the fox has left to make sure the gate gets closed up,” Wren said, taking her hands. A cooling magic soothed her burns as he healed them. He kissed her forehead then enveloped them all in his magic. Without asking permission, Wren moved the entire group, including Frida, into the demon town.

  “The pretty boy has no respect for personal boundaries,” Mouro muttered, and Wren rewarded him with a radiant smile.

  “You think I’m pretty?” He fluttered his eyelashes. “I’ll remember that in days to come.”

  “Cut it out,” Elsie demanded. “Where are we going to take him?”

  “I have a room at the Five Oaks. We can take him there. If we hurry, we can get a few more rooms before anyone who evacuated takes them all,” Mouro said.

  “Lead the way,” Wren said.

  Elsie followed placidly, her eyes constantly returning to Saint. He was so limp and lifeless, it made her heart squeeze with sadness. She wanted to draw his spirit inside of her where she could keep him safe and free of any pain.

  When they arrived, Elsie’s stomach rumbled as they walked through a dining area, and she couldn’t believe her stomach had the audacity to make noise at a time like this. Until she remembered that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten.

  Mouro brought them up the stairs and to his room where he and Cross eased the wolfhound onto the bed. The floors were a dark hardwood, the walls a dirty beige, and the window was covered by a forest green curtain. Aside from the bed, there was a single chair, a dresser, and a small bathroom with a stand-up shower. Everything was shabby, but it was clean for the most part.

  “I wouldn’t ha
ve guessed a Lord would be willing to stay in a place like this,” Cross said after looking around curiously.

  “We all start out somewhere,” Mouro said with a shrug. “I’m not the kind of Lord who lives in a castle.”

  Elsie sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her feet up and scooting closer to Saint. “What kind of Lord are you?”

  “The kind who stays close to his people. I’m going downstairs to see about getting some more rooms.”

  “I don’t need a room,” Elsie said quietly. “I’ll stay wherever Saint is.”

  Everyone was quiet for a moment. They hadn’t thought ahead to planning sleeping arrangements before now. Cross looked distinctly uncomfortable and unsure what to say.

  “I will be staying wherever my reaper is,” Wren said easily, and Elsie nodded. She didn’t want to say it out loud because it was too embarrassing, but she wanted all of them to stay with her. Unfortunately, the logistics of fitting a demon hound, a wolf, and three large men into this room for more than a short period of time wouldn’t work.

  “I’ll still get rooms for everyone, at least until we know how things are going to go. If we’re going to be here for a while, you might want some space to yourself at some point,” Mouro pointed out.

  “While you do that, Cross and I will go out and get the herbs Wren needs,” Elsie said. “Will you write us a list of what to get?”

  Wren nodded and took the unused notepad from the top of Pascal’s dresser while Mouro put a possessive arm around her shoulders and glared at Cross.

  “You’d better not let anything happen to her while you’re out there,” he growled.

  “Chantraine is safer here than she ever was in the compound,” Cross said, wincing when he realized he’d used her last name again.

  Elsie scowled at both of them while Wren shook his head, finishing up his list. He knew better than to treat her like a breakable doll, but he didn’t intervene, preferring to let her put her other mates in their places herself.

  If Saint were awake, he’d tell them both that she didn’t need their protection. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Since he wasn’t awake, and she didn’t have the emotional energy to argue, she simply took Wren’s list and walked out the door without either of them.

  Mouro was the first one after her, muttering curses, and Cross was right behind them. She didn’t speak a word, simply walked out onto the dirt path that served as the road. Having a vague memory of seeing an apothecary on the main strip of town, she opened a portal there. She walked through it then turned to close it, slightly annoyed that Cross had managed to squeeze through in time.

  She’d decided to go without him so maybe they’d stop treating her like she was fragile. After seeing her practice with her weapon so many times, Cross should know better. At least Mouro had the excuse of never having seen her in a fight, not that he couldn’t feel the amount of magic she had.

  “Elsie, wait,” Cross said, grabbing her arm and turning her to face him before she could stomp off angrily.

  “What? Would you like to carry me in case I twist an ankle?” she demanded. “Maybe we can spar again, and then we’ll decide which of us needs protecting.”

  “I wouldn’t normally think you do need protecting, but you’re obviously so upset over the hound you’re not thinking clearly. You should see yourself right now. I’ve never seen you with such a blank, shocked expression before. It’s okay to lean on us when you’re hurting.” He pulled her into a hug, and she let him without pushing him away.

  She hadn’t realized she was projecting her emotions all over her face, but she couldn’t force her lips to smile when there was nothing worth smiling about. Cross untied the mask from her hip and set it on top of her head.

  “Did you even realize you were walking around without that on? I thought you didn’t want anyone here seeing your face.”

  “You’re right.” She slipped the raven mask on. “I didn’t realize.”

  “I think I can speak for the wolverine as well when I say we weren’t trying to make you feel underestimated. But we can feel what you’re feeling and see the devastation. It’s even in the way you move right now. We’re going to be extra protective until you can protect yourself, so just deal with it.”

  Returning his hug, Elsie turned her head so she could rest against his shoulder without stabbing him with her mask. “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  They walked toward the apothecary, noticing that people ahead of them were stumbling over themselves to move to the side of the street. She recognized the overwhelming power coming their way and pulled Cross to the side, ducking under the eaves of one of the shops to try hiding her presence from the demon fox.

  Elsie’s stomach dropped as they passed by. Not only were the witch girl and her pet incubus with him, but he’d grown his seventh tail. That wasn’t the only change. There were silver streaks in his long black hair. Thankfully, his full attention was on the girl, who was now teeming with dark moon magic Elsie hadn’t noticed the last time she’d seen her. He paid very little mind to anything else around them.

  Her eyes found the boy with the ivory horns from before. He didn’t look like a teenager anymore; he looked like a grown ass man, but he’d kept those rockstar good looks. Nope, she told herself. I don’t need anything to do with that. The fox can keep him.

  “Should we go talk to them?” Cross asked, and Elsie shook her head.

  “No way in hell. I don’t have anything to offer the fox, nothing to keep him from lopping off my head and eating me alive. If those are the witches that are meant to help me, I’m going to need to figure out a way to appease him,” she said, watching the fox touch the girl’s hair.

  “Should we tail them? We’re going to need to know where they’re going,” he reasoned. Elsie looked at the magical trace trails they were leaving behind them, even the girl, though she wasn’t touching the ground. They were all strong and unique, and there was no way she’d lose their trail.

  “We’ll be able to find them easily enough,” Elsie assured him. “It’s more important to get the herbs and just avoid them right now.”

  They found the apothecary, though the little sparrow demon who ran the place was already overwhelmed by injured customers, flitting around behind the counter, filling orders. Luckily, not everything was behind the counter, so they found what they could on their own before approaching the sparrow.

  The wait was excruciating. Elsie fought the urge to tap her foot and fidget as the line slowly moved forward, the supplies dwindling ahead of them. Shifting the herbs to one arm, Cross took her hand, raising it to his lips for a kiss. “Breathe.”

  Elsie did as she was told, but it wasn’t much help. Usually, Cross was a calming anchor, but her anxiety was running too damned high. If even one more thing went wrong, she was going to fucking snap.

  Instead, one of her worries came to an end. Elsie’s wrist grew warm, and the cuff glowed bright. “Frost!”

  “Go outside before he shows up and destroys the shop,” Cross urged. There wasn’t enough space to accommodate the huge wolf; he’d definitely knock things over. “I’ll join you as soon as I get the herbs.”

  Elsie ran out the door and into the middle of the street, just in time for his shadow mist to swirl around her like a storm. When it cleared, the wolf stood before her, his long tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted hard, but the corners of his lips were curled in a smile. He’d gotten his revenge, and he was entirely too pleased with himself.

  A pair of demons hurried to the far side of the street to avoid him, staring as they walked past, but Elsie and Frost ignored them. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his leg, pressing her face into his fur. She didn’t even scold him for the god awful stench of death clinging to his fur or the blood dripping from his muzzle to coat his throat and chest.

  His mind pressed down on hers, and she felt a man’s strong arms around her. It would have startled her, but the embrace was only in her
mind, accompanied by a strong sense of relief. The wolf was happy she was safe, and not just because he needed her alive.

  “You shouldn’t have worried me like that, you monster,” she complained, and he sneezed at her. “I’m glad you think it’s funny. Why are you so huge again?”

  The unmistakable feeling of a question flitted through her head, followed by a twinge of fear. He wanted to know what she’d been worried about. “It’s too much to explain all at once. The crux of it is, Saint was hurt badly. Angus Cornick did terrible things to him. And the witches just left town with the devil’s black fox.”

  She straightened one of the tangles in his fur. “I thought that destroying the compound and killing the hunters would be so much more satisfying than this. I thought it would feel like we’d accomplished something, you know? Now I just feel like we still have so much more to do.”

  Frost sighed, lowering his head so he was on eye level with her. Their gazes connected, and it felt like he was pulling a heavy blanket of calm over her. Whatever they still needed to do, they’d do it together.

  “I knew the two of you were close, but I feel like I missed out on a conversation at some point. Is he one of your mates too?” Cross asked, coming out with his arms full of medicinal herbs. Frost’s lips curled upward in a half-hearted smile, letting the brujo know what he thought of that idea.

  “He’s my friend.” She let go of the wolf and opened a portal back to the road in front of the Five Oaks, then took one of the bags from her witch. Hurrying through the portal, she closed it as soon as the wolf’s tail was all the way through. Frost had the sense to shrink his size down as they entered the saloon, but he still earned several startled stares and more than one growl, which he didn’t dignify with a response.

  Mouro opened the door for them, then helped arrange all the herbs on top of his dresser for Wren to inspect. He bent over them critically, nodding after a moment.