Dire (Reaper's Redemption Book 2)

by Thea Atkinson

  "I warned you that your stubbornness would get you in trouble, Ayla," he murmured into my hair and the candyfloss smell wafted over me again. "I told you what would happen if you didn't get rid of those abominations. But no, you're stubborn. You wanted to save them. And now that thing you unleashed is all the stronger for it. And she's gaining more power even now."

  "She?" I said, pulling away. "That incubus was a he a few minutes ago." I narrowed my eyes at him. "I just killed it."

  His full mouth twitched with something akin to humour I knew he wanted to argue.

  "But the incubus was the danger," I muttered, trying to wrangle some sense out of the situation. "That was the threat. He," I said, stressing the pronoun, "is gone now."

  Azrael seesawed his open hand up and down in front of his chest. "The incubus wasn't really a threat, not to you anyway."

  "You've got to be kidding."

  "Sadly, I don't think the Divine One installed that particular trait."

  He grinned as though to contradict it. Just seeing the glint of perfect white teeth and the way it changed his whole face, I wondered why the Almighty wouldn't include that aspect, and then as I realized how human it made Azrael seem, I understood.

  "I'm tired, Azrael. It's been a long few days and I'd appreciate it if you would just collect up the incubus and go."

  "And leave that thing here to drain your main squeeze even more?" he said. "Is that right? Main squeeze?"

  I ignored the bait. "I just ended the threat. You just haven't collected it yet." I scanned the room, wondering where the incubus had gone anyway. Was it possible that as a spirit brought forth by psychic energy, it didn't have a form to collect?

  "Ah, the threat," he said, as he watched me peering about the room. "About that."

  Without realizing it, I reached out and grabbed his hands. Both of them were in mine and I squeezed hard.

  He flipped my hands over, spreading them open so that the palms faced the ceiling, and he brushed his fingers across the surface, lighting little sparks beneath my skin.

  "The nephilim broke the seal on the spell that bound her to Dyre's underground. She's free to roam now. Although I imagine she'll want to stay around now that she has a ... lovah?" He lifted a brow in query.

  "What are you saying?" I demanded. "You told me Sarah released the threat. Back in the crypt. You said she unleashed something awful. Something attracted to power. Are you saying the incubus was not that threat?"

  I brought to mind that birdlike creature, felt again its brush of leathery wings and bite of talons. My fingers trailed to my collarbone, testing for the wound. The creature had looked distinctly feminine. She didn't want me anywhere near Callum.

  Oh god. She. The incubus wasn't that creature at all. That creature was something entirely different.

  "Your necromancer certainly raised her essence and gave her a body to take hold of," Azrael said. "But you executed that little loophole back in the crypt. Left her flailing about. When your... boo opened the canopic jar, he unleashed the true magic that kept her bound here. Now she's connected to him, and as delightful as I find it that the nephilim will be incredibly busy being her baby daddy for the next little while, it really does cause a lot of problems for the rest of humanity."

  "Baby daddy?" I said, feeling quite ill.

  "Yes," Azrael said. "No doubt she has found the perfect mate."

  "I think I'm going to be sick," I said clutching my stomach.

  "No time for that, Ayla," he said. "Before she finally gets into the loving mood, she'll be needing a few energy shots. His nephilim blood should be quite handy for that. She might even find it necessary to use a druid or necromancer. Maybe even a supernatural reaper."

  He tilted his head as though straining to hear something that might be coming from the hallway.

  "You hear that?" he said.

  I strained to listen. Nothing. I shook my head.

  "She's not meant to be here, Ayla, not anymore. She's been a concept for a millennia now, and she really wouldn't understand the world of today. You need to reap her while it's still possible. Before she comes to full power and it's impossible to collect her at all."

  He sighed as he pulled out his cane from beneath the bed and tossed it in the air. He caught it with a smack. He tip tapped the floor, testing the way a blind man might for obstacles, then grunted as though he'd found what he was looking for.

  "I have work to do now," he said. "And so, I think, do you."

  The way he was giving me that intense examination I knew something was wrong. Down to my very soles. I gripped the edges of the mattress with my fingers, and felt them dig into the sheets.

  "Better run," he said.

  CHAPTER 13:

  I practically flew down the stairs, Azrael's voice echoing between my ears. Each thud of my feet striking the wood on the treads was an echo of my frenzied heartbeat. The house was deadly silent and I prayed it meant that Callum was outside with Gramp and Sarah, prayed that he was out there laughing with them as they searched in vain for that last vessel that probably wasn't even there anyway.

  I couldn't move fast enough. I nearly tripped on the bottom step and had to catch myself on the foyer table. My fingers clutched at something and came away with a piece of driftwood. I stared at it dumbly, shock erasing reason. Callum. That was it. I had to get to him. He was in danger. We all were.

  I called out.

  No answer.

  Nothing through the pass-through counter either except for those three squat jars obliterating my view of the living room. I cursed them out loud and then ran for the hall, aiming for the door that led to the living room.

  I skidded to a halt just at the edge of tiles where the carpet began. Early afternoon light streamed in through the eastern window, playing on the carpet and furniture. And there, in the middle of all that glorious sunlight, two forms on the living room floor.

  "No," I heard myself say. No. Please not that.

  That thing. That thing was back and it was bigger than before. Instead of an eagle-sized bird, it was a great vulture like creature. And it was perched on top of Callum's chest.

  Just like the shadows from the night before, it appeared to be pulling rags of something from Callum's mouth. They were filmy and opaque, and they went on and on until they put me in mind of a clown pulling ribbons of kerchiefs from his throat.

  Except none of this was funny.

  I swayed on my feet as I tried to find my voice. I was aware of my toes digging into the shag, of my hands gripping the frame of the door.

  Time went all wonky. I took a step forward, aware Callum wasn't moving and that he needed me. His mouth gaped open as that creature rocked back and forth on his chest, pulling back on that thread of energy so far, it craned its head nearly backwards over its body to get at it.

  It was the single twitch of Callum's fingers that freed me from my paralysis. I had a weapon. Right in my hand. Small and maybe ineffectual, but it was something.

  I threw the driftwood at its head and screamed at it. "Get out," I said. "Get off him."

  I shouldn't have expected it to obey. It was so huge and monstrously terrifying, and while most of me wanted to rush forward and yank it off of Callum, part of me was afraid to. And in the back of my mind was the feel of the incubus's throat beneath my hands. The way I had felt its neck muscles move as it swallowed. I felt sick. I wanted to rush the creature, and I wanted to run away. The conflicting emotions were too much. The adrenaline pumping down through my tissues was enough to make me dizzy.

  Even so, I had to do something. I forced myself forward. I managed a foot, maybe two, as a fresh burst of adrenaline saturated my muscles, but then searing pain tore through the front of my hip and I froze in disbelief and frustration.

  The brand, I realized. Azrael was collecting the incubus and the brand was searing into my skin, marking me, ticking off another reap on my ledger. Not now. Not when Callum needed me the most. Not when I had just gathered enough courage.

&nbs
p; I staggered to my knees and fell to my palms. It hurt so much. I could barely breathe through it. I rolled onto my side, tried to breathe through the pain and crawl to get to Callum, but I couldn't. All I could manage was to grip the curve of my hip and moan.

  I rolled over onto my back, and pulled my leg into my chest, sucking in air and letting it go in a wheeze. It couldn't last forever. It had to stop at some point. No amount of cradling it, no amount of rocking back and forth, of begging to Azrael could make it stop. I could almost taste searing skin and feel the twisting of my muscles as they tried to knit around the mark. The bone in my hip ached as though a thousand needles were scraping across the surface all at once.

  I grit my teeth against another wave, cried out because I couldn't help it.

  The back of my head was digging into the carpet, my hair catching on itself and tangling in knots that pulled at my scalp as I squirmed on the floor. At one point, I could see Callum straining for me with his hand. All I had to do was crawl forward a few feet and I would be close enough to grab for it. I could pull him out from beneath that thing and drag him into the kitchen if I had to. Surely I could manage that.

  In desperation, I called out to him again. Wonder of wonders, I saw him try to roll over. He heard me. He was in there somewhere. I wasn't sure whether I should be relieved or terrified for him.

  There was one long moment when I blinked my eyes free of tears and I caught his green eyed gaze. It was clear and present. A sob escaped my throat and I tried to reach for him again. I thought he was straining for my hand.

  "Fight it," I said and then let go another shriek as a spasm rode my nerves.

  From the corner of my eye, I could see the bird lean forward again to grasp a trail of smoky vapour snaking from Callum's nostrils. Tugged. Another stream of energy ran out and I could make out his hands twitching as they lay outstretched from his body. His chest lurched upward and I remembered that thing's talons on my skin, the burning of its leathery wings as it grazed me.

  I was aware of a faint sense of electricity lifting the hairs on my arms. This wasn't a normal supernatural creature. It was something more. Whatever we had unleashed in the crypt had come to roost right in my home. I had let it loose. We had let it loose.

  My arms wrapped over my head as I tried to think. I had to think. I had to find a way to help him. I had to get up. I had to find a way, whatever it took. Distract it long enough for Callum to worm his way loose.

  "Leave him be," I said through a dry throat.

  The creature turned a baleful eye toward me. Contempt. That's the look it gave me. At first. Then I thought I heard a chuckle and even as that horrific sound wafted across the room, the vulture vacillated subtly until its head turned into that of a woman's.

  She smiled at me with full, sensual lips. Sleek tawny hair ran down the length of her back and shone in the sun that fingered in through the curtains. Her nose was hooked slightly at the end but was still delicate looking, a graceful thing that might break beneath a hush of force. Red eyes like fat drops of blood cut a path to mine. They seemed to swim with authority and command and when she pinned me with that gaze, my throat shut tight. I had to suck at air through a narrow hole and I felt my chest heaving with the effort.

  I knew her thoughts in that moment.

  You can't have him, they said. His blood is mine. Then yours will be too, Nathelium. I'll get to you soon enough.

  "Like hell," I croaked out but I knew the threat was an empty one. I couldn't do much more than lie there holding my hip and crying silently in frustration and pain, crawling forward at each interval of spasm and marking no more than a mere inch.

  She shivered back into the vulture form and resumed her work. I clenched my thigh and tried to move again and had to bite back on the pain. I was almost there. Almost.

  "Hold on, Callum," I said. "Please hold on."

  It was the red wool of a foot in Birkenstocks that saved me and I hitched out a sob when I saw it. Help was here. Gramp grabbed for the lid of one of the canopic jars from the pass-through counter and threw it like a Frisbee at the creature's head. The creature swivelled its red-eyed gaze to him and then moved on to Sarah. It lifted a russet coloured wing. The talons, inches long, each of them, shifted into five fingers. She pointed at Gramp.

  "Druid."

  She pointed at Sarah. "Necromancer."

  She dropped her gaze to Callum.

  "Nephilim," she said.

  "Demon," Gramp hollered in retort and then raised his arms above his head palms together and then he pulled them down to his solar plexus as though he was meditating.

  He started chanting. Not words, just sounds. I was aware Sarah was too. Different sounds, but same atonal murmuring that made my spine feel as though it wanted to pull itself out of my skin.

  Callum twitched on the floor and I pulled in a breath. "Don't give up," I yelled at him. "Don't you dare give up."

  The pain was receding finally. I could breathe without hitching in shallow gulps. I could move again. It wasn't even fully gone when I scrambled forward on my hands and knees, pushing through the residual suffering and grabbed for Callum's hand. His head lolled to the side and I could see in his features he was feeling every psychic pull of energy. He was feeling it and needed relief from it.

  For some reason, whether it was Gramp's or Sarah's chanting, or the fact I was tugging on Callum's hand, the creature shivered again and became that incredibly beautiful woman with the tawny hair. Nude. Large breasts. And yet that chest seemed covered with light downy feathers. I was aware from the corner of my eye that Gramp was already spreading his arms out to the sides one by one. He seemed to be gathering something from the air around him.

  I thought the creature knew it too. She smiled. A short chuckle rippled from her throat.

  She kneaded Callum's chest like a kitten settling down to sleep. Her fingers wrapped around his throat. I watched, horrified as she began to transform again into a bird. I thought she might try to lift off like an eagle, pulling Callum with her. I yelled at her.

  But Gramp wasn't done yet. He laboured forward, with the jasper amulet that had been wrapped around the baby's neck. He shouted at the woman who turned her black and piercing gaze on him, and she lifted her hand toward him, talons growing out of that delicate hand. I thought she might slice through Gramp's chest, but he feinted away with the agility of a younger man. I realized it left Callum free of her grip, and I yanked as hard as I could backward. Callum moved just enough, I knew if I kept calm, I might yank him free.

  I waited. My breath was harsh in my ear. I felt every thought of my heart against my rib cage.

  Gramp tossed the amulet as though he were working at winning a prize at the carnival. It struck her and she threw her hands up to deflect it, momentarily losing her balance. My moment had arrived. I yanked hard. Callum slipped free as she spilled backwards onto the carpet.

  That tawny hair swayed and spilled down her shoulders as she twisted toward me, trying to find her feet. I got the feeling she was weaker than she wanted to be. She reminded me of a newborn cold, trying to stand on shaky legs. She couldn't get up. I threw the closest thing to my hand that I could. The piece of driftwood again. It bounced off her temple.

  She glowered at me, but that was all. She'd used up what she had, I guessed. Trying to hold onto Callum, trying to transform too many times. I thanked whatever gods existed that she was at least that vulnerable.

  She disappeared just as Gramp sank to his knees.

  I rushed him even though I knew Callum was weak, but he waved me toward Callum when I tried to help him up.

  "Make sure he's okay," he said.

  Both Sarah and I exchanged worried looks but I did as he bid while she helped Gramp into a chair. Callum lay there, outstretched, but with his eyes open. He blinked at me.

  "Talk to me," I said to him.

  He held up a clenched fist. "How much do you think this will get me on Ebay?"

  He dropped something that looked like a large gr
eenish beetle onto the floor.

  We stared at it for a long moment before Sarah dared to pluck it from the carpet.

  "A scarab stamp," she said, examining it. I watched as her brows knit together in thought.

  "How did you get it?"

  "Not sure," he said, working to catch his breath. "It might have been around her neck."

  "Why don't we get you something to drink," I said, looking at Gramp who nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. "You look a little peaked."

  I didn't want to say that he looked worse than peaked. He looked positively awful. I had no idea how much of his energy she had taken, or even if he would even be himself after this. I didn't even know what we were facing. I couldn't stop wringing my hands together.

  "How are you?" he asked and I couldn't help feeling for my hip, testing for the mark.

  "Don't worry about me," I said. "What about you?"

  His hand trailed to my hip and met my fingers. I had the feeling he was testing to see if I winced.

  "We have no idea what that thing did to you," I said. "We should get you checked out at the hospital or something."

  He stared into my eyes. "I don't think so," he said. "I'm tired, and I feel a little weak, but I don't think anything is wrong with me physically." He gave me a long look that made me squirm.

  "You're the one that should be checked out," he said. "You look like you were in quite a bit of pain."

  I was about to protest but I heard both Sarah and Gramp from behind me agreeing.

  "I'll call 911," Gramp said.

  I stood, letting Callum's hands go. I whirled around to face him.

  "Don't," I said putting my hands up. "There's nothing wrong with me."

  "Ayla," Gramp said patiently. "We just watched you writhing around in pain on the floor. You can't tell me there's nothing wrong."

  I hung my head. "It's better now," I said. "All gone." I threw my hands out to the side as though to say it was over.

  "Callum is the one who should be going to the hospital." I looked over my shoulder at him to see he was trying to get up. Sarah had him by the elbow and was helping him to the chair.