Reaping the Immortal

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Reaping the Immortal Page 10

by Pamela Labud


  "I need to contact the High Council," she said, as if that would solve all her problems.

  He nodded and gave her a wink. "Don't worry, Reaper girl. We'll get it figured out."

  She watched him turn away and the life in the room seemed to evaporate. Her chest felt heavy and her body ached to go after him. But she stayed still, waiting until he left the room completely and closed the door behind him.

  The sound of the door knob snapping into place felt like an arrow through her heart. Shaking her head, Holly pulled her phone from her jeans pocket.

  Her former mentor had called her three times and on the last two the message icon was flashing.

  Taking a breath, she went to her contact list and pulled up the number for Master Damon. He was her Council Liaison.

  "Hello, Reaper Dent. How may I be of service?"

  Holly swallowed. "I need a review of a client."

  "A review? Is there a problem?'

  Holly took a quick breath, "I'm having difficulties with my current assignment."

  The man looked down from the picture, obviously checking his documents. "The assignment in question, an Immortal, one Maximilian Hyland. Is this correct?"

  "Yes."

  "And, your problem would be?"

  "He's an Immortal. As in not supposed to die."

  The liaison stared at her a moment. "All beings die, eventually."

  That was true. Still, she had to try to save Max. "All of them? But, he's an Immortal and he's lodging a complaint. He's threatening to take legal action."

  She knew it was a long shot, but even the High Council didn't like the threat of litigation lightly. There were trials that had been ongoing for centuries.

  "I will submit a review. You may hold your actions until the High Council responds."

  With that, the screen blanked out and Holly finally let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

  Her phone buzzed again and Holly shook her head to clear the cobwebs before answering her mentor.

  "Master Renault," Holly said, trying her best to force calm into her voice.

  She heard him take a breath before speaking. "Reaper Dent," he said. "I was beginning to get concerned. I've been trying to reach you all morning."

  "I'm sorry. I've was unable to sleep and I went for a walk and left my phone at home by accident."

  "I see. At least you're well. Tell me, child, what troubles you?"

  She'd dreaded this question from the moment she'd decided to help Max.

  "I don't think Mr. Hyland should be Reaped."

  There, she'd said it. She was sure she felt his expression change several times. Stunned, to angry, to disappointed. But, all of it passed in a matter of seconds. The old teacher was quick to mask his true feelings. And, if Holly hadn't been a Reaper, she might not have noticed it.

  "What makes you think you have the right to speak against the High Council's wisdom?

  "He's an Immortal."

  "Whatever his status, it doesn't matter. He's on the list."

  "I contacted the High Council, and now his Reap is on hold."

  For a moment, he said nothing, but she could feel his anger simmering just under the surface. "I see. Well then, there's nothing to be done now."

  Holly watched him for some sign of his ire, but this time, she saw none. "I apologize for calling you, sir. I know your time could be better spent elsewhere."

  He waved his hand at her. "Nonsense. It's always good to get out into the world. And, at least now we have more time to visit."

  "I'm looking forward to it, sir."

  With that, his screen blacked out and Holly felt the air go out of her as well.

  Exhausted from her poor sleep, her trek across town and back, and then dealing with first the High Council and then Master Renault, all she could think of was a nap.

  She grasped the side rail and headed upstairs. Just a short nap and she knew she'd be back on track.

  While Holly hadn't solved any of her problems, at least she'd postponed them for a while. That would have to suffice.

  #

  "Of all the thick brained stunts," Renault growled as he set the phone back on the table. "She's managed to throw a wrench in it."

  "What will you do?" Cravens asked.

  The old Reaper walked to the window and looked out over the street. It was still morning and the October wind had picked up, shuffling leaves over the landscape. Nocturne Falls was that way. A quaint, unassuming town if you were a tourist. Stores with Halloween decorations, a bakery, a plethora of restaurants, a library, police department and so on.

  The sight of it galled him. Such places were a blatant lie and he despised them. People, Magic or not, were all the same. They lived their lives without any thought for their betters.

  "I think it's time we paid a visit to Mr. Hyland, ourselves."

  "Do you think that's wise, Master Renault?"

  "I think it's necessary. We need to know the measure of the man, learn his strengths and his weaknesses. That way, when the time comes, it will be easier to help him meet his destiny."

  "Shall I fetch your coat?"

  "Please." He watched his servant leave the room. Already he knew what he needed to do. And, when he was finished with the Immortal, his former student would have to be dealt with as well.

  CHAPTER TEN

  When the knock came on his office door, Max was deep in his journal. It was the war with England that had him most troubled. That was when he'd met the celebrated Daniel DeWolfe in battle. An Immortal like himself, the two had been an even match. Max fought on the side of the British, and DeWolfe under Napoleon. They'd been of equal skill and the Frenchman had fought with fury and abandon that only an Immortal could.

  Or, so he'd thought at the time.

  It was a very tricky thing, war. As a magical being, he couldn't hurt humans, so he had to only battle others of his kind. There were times that his human counterparts thought him a poor fighter and others they thought him a coward.

  Still, when DeWolfe had called him out on that bloody battlefield, Max met him sword for sword.

  Then, later, there'd been some rumor that there were Magicals who'd openly defied the law and had later been caught and executed for it.

  Max thought he took every precaution. That he followed the ruling to the letter. Except, going back through his journals now, a hint of self-doubt stabbed at his mind. Was it possible his most valiant foe had not been a Mage at all? That he had been human?

  And, had the High Council finally discovered his mistake? Would they be calling for his blood as well?

  His thoughts were interrupted when there came a light tapping on his office door.

  "Yes?"

  "So sorry, sir," his housekeeper said as she peeked into the room. "But there's a gentleman here to see you. His name is Master Renault..."

  Alarm shot though him and Max quickly closed the journal, but not before carefully bookmarking his place.

  "Is he alone?"

  The woman nodded. "Do you want me to send him away?"

  Max sighed. It'd do no good to put off the inevitable. He'd do everything he could to keep from being taken. But, if he failed and these were his last moments of life, he’d regret that he wouldn't be able to say good-bye to Holly.

  "Take him to the front parlor and please, make him comfortable. I'll be along directly."

  The woman bobbed her head and then pulled the door closed, barely making a sound. Max found it curious, but the last few days the household and staff had been more than a little on edge. He hadn't confided in anyone but they seemed to know already.

  Max checked his appearance in the mirror before leaving, meaning to show strength in the face of his adversary.

  Arriving at the parlor door, Max paused a moment to study the Reaper. Though he wore the frail appearance of advanced age, the Immortal wasn't fooled. It was the way Renault’s eyes darted about the room, likely measuring ever
y surface, evaluating the amount of space in case a fight became necessary. He didn’t just look around though. He rose from his seat and ran his hands along the mantle above the fireplace, where three tall candlesticks stood tall in their brass holders.

  Max watched as Renault’s eyes scanned the room, past the paintings that hung on each wall, to the ancient blades mounted on the far wall. Then, the hint of a smile settled on his face, barely visible beneath his long white mustache and beard. His blue eyes darkened until nearly opaque when he saw that his host waited at the door.

  "Mr. Hyland," he said, bowing. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

  Max coughed. "I wish I could say the same."

  The other man's smile widened. "Oh, you think I'm here to Reap you? Oh, my heavens, that's not how it works."

  Motioning for them both to sit down, Max was careful to take the seat closest to the door and farthest away from the old Reaper.

  "Then why don't you tell me all about it," Max said. Reaching forward, he grasped the corner of the tea table, and while his opponent nodded and cleared his throat, Max poured himself a cup of tea.

  "I'd be happy to. Of course, you know already that your fate has been determined. That being said, only my student— Excuse me, I forget that she is a fully licensed Reaper..."

  "Go on," Max said.

  "Of course," Master Georges said. "In order for another Reaper to do her job, she must give her consent. While it is required to be in writing, it is acceptable for her to do so verbally. That way the subject's time is not wasted."

  Max almost laughed. "We wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?"

  He was being sarcastic but Master Renault nodded. "You might not believe it, but Reapers do care about their clients."

  "Holly does. Do you?" He paused and waited for the other to answer him. When he did not, Max cleared his throat. "It's a simple enough question, really. Do you ever think about what you're doing, taking away loved ones, ending hopes and dreams, literally stopping time for every individual you take?

  It was stealing, after all. The most precious of things, not just heartbeats, or breaths, but rather moments spent doing and being. Who among them could afford to lose time?

  "Master Renault?"

  Both Max and his guest turned toward the door.

  Holly stood there, her green eyes staring at them both. She wore a form fitting white sweater and worn out 'skinny' jeans. Max's heart jumped at the sight of her.

  Both men spoke at once.

  "Holly?"

  "Reaper Dent," the old man said.

  Max cleared his throat. "I mean, Reaper Dent," he said, knowing that he couldn't cover his earlier impropriety.

  "Master Renault, Mr. Hyland," she said, clearly uncomfortable at seeing them both together.

  Both men stood.

  "I hope you don't mind, dear one, but I took it upon myself to approach the subject. Of course, now that you're here, perhaps we could dispense with any further delay and proceed with the relocation process. The gentleman, as witty as he is, won't Reap himself."

  Max glanced at Holly and saw her shocked expression. As soon as he did, her face colored again.

  "I'm so sorry for being so inconsiderate of your rank, but I'm afraid there will be no Reaping today."

  Renault made no attempt to cover his irritation. "Whatever are you talking about? And, I warn you, I may be retired, but my time is as precious as anyone else's."

  Holly didn't back down and Max wanted to cheer.

  "As I told you on the phone, I contacted the High Council early this morning and submitted Mr. Hyland's case for review. For the moment, his Reaping is on hold."

  She might as well have openly mocked him judging by the expression he gave her.

  "I see you mean to play me the fool, then."

  She stepped forward. "I assure you, that was not my intention. I take full responsibility for your inconvenience. I will, of course, cover your expenses and make notification to the High Council of how you came to my aid. Your effort won't go unnoticed, I assure you."

  Max was fascinated by the strength exuded by the woman in front of him. Though she was clearly a foot and a half shorter than her counterpart, there was no difference in their stature.

  In response, the old Reaper took a menacing step forward, but Max slipped in front of Holly.

  "I beg you sir," he said in a tone that was not at all requesting. "To think about what you are doing. I might not be an all-powerful Reaper, but I've wielded many a sword. As a Mage, you and I are equal in the eyes of the law. And, though I believe you aren't as frail as you make yourself appear, I know I'm in pretty good condition when it comes to athletic acumen."

  That clearly gave the old master a reason to pause. He bowed again. "Of course, I apologize for my behavior. It looks as though I'm but an old fool, after all."

  "Nonsense, sir. You are clearly acting in accordance with our order."

  Max disagreed, but kept his own council. "If you would like, sir, I can summon my cook to prepare a meal. It would be an honor to have you at my table."

  The old man waved a hand. "Nonsense. It's clear the two of you have formed a... friendship. Since your time left is limited, well more so than I originally thought, I leave the two of you to your, ahem, enjoyments. If I were you, I'd make every minute count."

  #

  Standing at the parlor window, Holly watched her former mentor climb into the rental car and then drive away. As soon as the red Prius turned the corner and was gone from sight, she let out her breath.

  She'd done her best to put on a brave face, but now her insides turned to jelly.

  "Nice fellow," Max said behind her. "I can't wait until he visits again."

  Holly spun around, a combination of anger, fear and relief mixing in her gut. "What were you thinking, confronting him without me present?"

  Max shrugged. "He seemed harmless enough."

  "Is that what you think? He's slain entire armies."

  "Has he? I thought Reapers were all peace-loving Magical beings. High and mighty Mages, who wouldn't dream of playing with our lives like we were nothing more than toys." He leaned forward and pulled her into his arms. "Want to go play a round of Reap the Immortal? I hear it's all the rage."

  "Quit mocking me," Holly said, though his estimation was pretty close to the truth. "I'm not sure how much time we have. The Council could make their decision a week from now or tomorrow. There's no predicting what political machinations are stirring within their ranks."

  "What do we do?"

  Holly let out a breath. "We need to go back to your journals, I think. Surely, the answers will be in there."

  She started to turn away, but Max put his hand on her arm. His touch was much as she remembered, warm, firm, and promising so much more.

  But there wasn't time to think of that now. Too much was at stake.

  "What is it?" she asked, sensing a change in his mood.

  "I think I found out why my name was selected for Reaping."

  His tone was no longer one of playful romance, nor was it his usual staunch, serious tone. It was different. Darker.

  And, it scared the devil out of her.

  "You found something."

  He nodded and looked away, shame coloring his expression. "You've heard of the term, 'imposters' haven't you?"

  Holly shrugged. It didn't sound all that bad. "People pretending to be other people. So, what?"

  His head still downcast, she could feel his gaze slide upward only to look away again. "Whether in jest, or even as a fraud, that pretty much sums it up. Except when it comes to Immortals."

  "Explain."

  He motioned her to sit with him on the sofa and fear started to stir in her stomach. When she was settled, he sat down beside her and took her hand.

  "For a time, most of mankind knew about the magical races. Although, some still believe to this day, most think magic is a joke or a fantasy. In those day
s, it was a great thing to be a member of a magical race. We were revered, much like rock stars are today. There were those who aspired to be Magics, even though they weren't born to it."

  "I don't like where this is going," Holly said, her throat suddenly dry.

  "It was a more barbaric time. But, the laws were the same. Mages, Immortals weren’t allowed to harm humans, Magics, or even other Immortals. Very clear on that. "

  She knew the rules about injuring — or even killing — humans, but wasn’t sure where he was going with this. "Tell me," she said at last.

  Max cleared his throat again. "It was war..."

  "It always is." Realizing she wasn't helping anything, she coughed. "I'll be quiet. Please, continue."

  He sighed. "I was in Wellington's army, fighting the French in Spain. I tried to remain out of the main battle, you know. I worked the ambulances, carrying to fallen from the field."

  "A good choice for an Immortal."

  He grinned. "I thought so. Anyway, after carrying more than twenty men, some injured, some dead, I'm sorry to say, I happened upon a French officer who'd been lying beside a dead horse. He'd become tangled in the animal's tack, and had one leg wedged beneath the beast. Being a kind sort, I stopped to help him. After pulling him from his saddle, I did my best to give first aid."

  "Didn't you realize he was an enemy soldier?"

  Max nodded. "I did. But, I made it a policy to not differentiate between the fallen. It was the humane thing to do."

  "It was."

  He warmed toward her and Holly soaked it up like a sunflower facing the dawn.

  "Anyway, the soldier jumped me when I wasn't looking. I tried to stop him, thinking he'd awakened disoriented, but he confessed that he'd been lying in wait, meaning to ambush me instead. He pronounced himself an Immortal as well and accused me of being a traitor to my kind."

  "He wasn't an Immortal?"

  Max shook his head. "I was so sure he was. I mean, he fought like no human I've ever seen. Several times he cut me with his bayonet, and twice he pinned me down. I almost didn't escape with my body intact. In the end, I bested him. Thinking he was only unconscious, I left him lying there, in what I thought was the reparation sleep. When I was going over my entry this morning, I did a full memory retrieval and sure enough, I'd been so messed up myself, I hadn't even seen it."

 

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