Reaper Reborn

by Kel Carpenter

  I put the car in reverse as I considered her words. The fact of the matter was, I didn’t really want to let her out of my sight either, but I was pretty confident strolling into a Council meeting with a surprise twin from a past life was not going to do me any favors. I had more than enough on my plate without having to try and explain Thana’s presence as well.

  “How ‘bout this,” I said, eyeing her as the car started moving, “why don’t you hang out with my aunt while I take care of reaper business? Then, when I get back, you and I can have that heart-to-heart.”

  I could see the desire to debate the point with me. It was written all over her face. It was a look I knew because I wore it all the time. It was the same battle that was constantly raging inside of me. The need to argue. To prove that my way was right.

  I let out a little breath. Stubborn people were a real pain in the ass. This must be what Graves deals with whenever he’s trying to convince me to just listen to him. The thought brought a small smile to my face, and I shook my head.

  “Listen, I know you don’t like this plan, but this is the way it needs to be. Regardless of your stance on the reapers, and supernaturals in general, things are . . .tenuous right now. Let’s not throw the Daughter of Death grenade in the mix just yet, okay? Not until I’ve had a chance to wrap my head around it myself.”

  Thana fell quiet beside me, her arms crossed over her chest. “Fine,” she agreed, blowing out a breath of her own.

  Oh, Esme was going to love this. We only just got rid of one hostage for her to keep an eye on, and I was already bringing home a second. My eyes slid to Thana. Not that she knew that was the real reason for my suggestion. Let her believe whatever she wanted. Esme—and her trusty machete—would watch this girl like a hawk.

  I sped down Mansion Lane, pulling up the drive to my house in less than five minutes. Graves was already waiting outside, his eyes widening slightly as he noticed the figure seated next to me in the Impala.

  Killing the ignition, I popped out of the car. “Graves, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  His eyes narrowed on me. “I thought you said you were at the cemetery.”

  “I was.”

  Graves pressed his lips together and eyed Thana, who was out of the car and leaning against the passenger door. “This some kind of fucking joke?” he asked, looking between us.

  I let out a humorless laugh. “Not unless the joke’s on me. Graves, meet my,” I paused to look at Thana, “what did you call yourself? My true twin?”

  She eyed Graves shrewdly and gave a single nod.

  The mistrust was evident in the hard lines of Graves’ face. This introduction was going to get ugly fast if I didn’t play this right. “Thana has been looking for me. She says she’s here to help me deal with whatever’s hunting me and to learn more about my powers. I’m going to have her keep Esme company until we get back from the Council meeting and have the chance to chat more.”

  While I was talking, I was staring hard at Graves, communicating with my eyes everything I couldn’t say out loud. Trust me. Go with this. We can talk about everything when we’re alone.

  His expression was still hard, but he gave a slow nod.

  “Your name is Thana?” he asked.

  She lifted an eyebrow, her expression one of utter condescension. “She didn’t stutter,” Thana said.

  Graves didn’t wilt under her tone as he said, “Thana means death.”

  A cold smile curled around her lips. “I am a Daughter of Death. Just like Salem.”

  “Hm.” He turned, angling his body away from her and toward me. “Can we talk?”

  “On the way to the Council meeting. You said it was starting soon, and I don’t think your dad will appreciate us being late,” I said, moving past him. He grabbed my forearm, making me pause.

  “Salem—”

  “Later,” I said softly, a promise in my voice.

  Our eyes met, and his burned with questions. Heat stirred in my veins as his grip loosened, sliding down my arm as I stepped toward the door.

  “Alright.” He squeezed my hand once and let it go.

  I flung the front door open. “Esme?”

  I only had to call out once. Esme came around the corner wielding a scythe. She spun it around in a showy maneuver, but when her eyes fell on Thana, her grip slipped. The scythe slid sideways a foot before she regained her hold. Six inches of brown hair streaked with gray fell on the floor.

  “Who’s this?” she asked, holding the weapon in one hand as she strode forward.

  “Thana. She’s . . .” My words trailed as I struggled to find an adequate answer. While Esme had seen me do things other reapers couldn’t do, we’d never gone into the differences—or the small fact that I was just another reincarnation of myself and had lived countless other lives before now.

  “I’m Salem’s twin,” Thana said, taking it upon herself to speak. “Her true twin.”

  Esme narrowed her eyes, her thin lips pressing together. “I hate to break it to you, but I was there the day that girl was born.” Esme pointed in my direction. “She came out with a brother, not a sister.”

  “In this life,” Thana corrected. “In her original life, it was only her and I. You and her brother might be family to this reincarnation—”

  I held my hand up for Thana to stop because she was not making this situation any better.

  “Okay, look.” I let out a sigh. “I wasn’t completely upfront with you about everything. Right before we brought James back and told you I was a reaper, we learned that’s not quite true. I’m what’s called a Daughter of Death. No, I don’t know what all that means yet. Thana here found me at the cemetery this morning, though, and she says we’re sisters. Or we were.”

  Esme’s eyes were bouncing between Thana and me, a small wrinkle deepening between her brows.

  “We still are,” Thana insisted like I wasn’t speaking. I shot her a pointed glare, and she gave me the same look right back.

  “Anyways,” I drawled, looking away from her. It was just too eerie. “There’s a lot going on right now, and I have some explaining to do, but the Council just called a meeting, and Graves and I can’t be late.”

  “Should I prepare the basement for our guest?” Esme asked with just enough of a smile it should have been disarming. I recognized the code, however. She wanted to know if Thana was a friend or an enemy. I wish I knew the answer.

  “No . . . I don’t think you guys need to be that formal. Maybe just hang out in the kitchen?”

  Esme’s eyes narrowed as she tried to suss out any hidden meaning in my words. I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious. The kitchen is where the knives were. If things went squirrely, Esme wouldn’t be caught without a weapon.

  Graves tapped his foot impatiently beside me. “Salem, we should really get a move on.”

  “Yeah, okay.” My eyes darted between Thana and Esme one last time. “You two going to be okay?”

  Thana gave me a wide smile. “I’m going to enjoy some time getting to know my new family.”

  Esme’s expression was harder to translate, but the not-so-subtle shift of her grip on the scythe was unmistakable. “We’ll be fine. You two run along. I’ll just give Thana a tour of my machete collection.”

  Worry sat like a ball of lead in my stomach, but this really was my best option for the moment. I had to trust that Esme could take care of herself and pray that Thana’s motives were as pure as she claimed.

  “Alright, let’s go,” I said to Graves, turning back to the door.

  He was already holding it open.

  I’d barely put the car into drive when Graves was demanding answers.

  “Spill it.”

  My eyes darted to the rearview, although I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see . . . we’d only been gone for about ten seconds.

  “It’s exactly like I said. She found me talking to Shep. Claims she’s here to help. I didn’t have enough time to interrogate her before you were blowing my phon
e up.”

  “A single text is hardly blowing you up.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It was the subtext of your text.”

  “Subtext?”

  I nodded. “All broody and demanding.”

  “I don’t brood.”

  “Sure you don’t, cupcake—hey, speaking of. Are there any still stashed in the glovebox?”

  Graves was shaking his head beside me. “You can’t just change the subject because you’re suddenly hungry.”

  “What?” I threw him a cheeky grin. “I worked up an appetite last night.”

  His blue eyes smoldered as they met mine, but he didn’t give in. “Her timing is too convenient. After all those weird sightings of you . . . Salem, she looks identical.”

  “Well, duh. I mean . . . she’s my fucking twin, Graves. As for the sightings, I know. Believe me, I haven’t overlooked it, but I haven’t gotten a chance to properly question her, but her story lined up with Darla’s warning. I think she’s telling the truth, Graves, but if she really is who she says she is, we have literally thousands of years to discuss it—and given how little we know about what I am, I wasn’t passing up my only opportunity to learn. I couldn’t let her come with, but I don’t trust her enough to leave her alone. This way, we know where she is, and we can get answers as soon as we’re done with the Council.”

  The muscle in his jaw flexed, but he gave me a terse nod. “I guess it’s our only option for the moment.”

  “So, do I get that cupcake now?”

  “Just drive, Salem,” he said, sighing.

  “I think I’ve more than earned it . . . I did just save every reaper, and I gave you at least three mind-blowing orgas—”

  A plastic-wrapped treat smacked the side of my face.

  I was too busy multitasking as I drove and unwrapped it, that I didn’t even bother to complain that my new boyfriend had just pelted me in the face with my favorite snack. Sometimes a girl had to pick her battles, and somehow I had a feeling that there were some big ones on the horizon.

  2

  Dissension

  The Council room was packed. People were pressed up against each other like cookies in a box. The air felt hot. Stifling, despite the air conditioner running on full blast. It wasn’t just the number of people packed into the Council’s meeting room, though. Tension settled over the crowd. It ran from one person to the next, growing heavier with each silent moment.

  Graves and I shuffled into the back, trying not to be noticed given we were tardy.

  The members of the Council sat, gathered around their long table. All except for Alexander, that was.

  He stood apart from the others with his hands clasped behind his back.

  “—the reapers have dealt with the problem. The Council has passed judgment that the werewolf in question will be given life on parole. He’ll live with his pack, but be unable to leave their territory.”

  Looks like we were more than a little late if they’d already explained most of the situation, at least the version of it they were going by. I highly doubted Alexander was going to tell them all about his own son’s involvement. Admitting that James had been a murderer and controlling the poor guy wasn’t exactly a great way to instill faith in the reapers—or their leader.

  “That doesn’t sound very much like a punishment,” a voice rose from the crowd, but I couldn’t pick out where it came from.

  One person was all it took to sow dissent among the mass of supernaturals. After everything that had happened, tensions weren’t just running high. They were under incredible strain and threatening to snap entirely.

  “He killed three vampires,” another voice said, coming from the other side of the room.

  The group right in front of Graves and I shifted uneasily.

  “And two fae, let’s not forget that,” a third voice added, coming from the opposite side of the room. I pinpointed this one because she was standing near the front. Tall and ethereal, her lavender hair was tied to one side and her pale-yellow eyes were narrowed on the Council before us.

  “I’ve given harder punishments in the bedroom,” a fourth voice shouted. I recognized it as the Bettie Page look-a-like I’d met the first time I’d gone to Succubus United, also known as Sigma Upsilon. It was Laura, the dominatrix.

  That one got a few chuckles from the crowd, but it did nothing to ease the growing unrest.

  “That’s hardly called for,” Sarah Cunningham, Tamsin’s mom, and the succubus/incubus representative on the Council said. Her voice was hard, but judging by the look on her face, I got the impression she didn’t disagree.

  “And you, Desdamona?” a distinctly masculine voice called. “You can stand for this injustice?” The man didn’t yell or speak as loudly as the others. On the contrary, his voice was fairly soft. He stepped forward from the crowd of what I’d assumed was vampires given the distinct resemblance most of them had to both the vampire representative and Gretel, my ghostly Siri. His hair was dark, and skin unbelievably pale. There was a red glint to his brown eyes. A hardness of his features that reminded me of marble statues.

  “There were special conditions and things in play that you do not know,” the vampire representative replied, tapping her blood-red nails along the hard edge of the wooden table. Her expression was cold.

  “Such as?” he asked.

  “The Council decided they will not be disclosed,” she replied, her voice quieter still.

  I got the distinct impression that, like Tamsin’s mom, the lady vamp didn’t agree with the ruling. And if not even the Council could agree on the punishment, how did they expect the rest of the supernatural community to blindly accept it?

  Graves and I exchanged uneasy looks as murmurs started to fill the room. The words themselves were indistinguishable, but the anger that laced them was unmistakable.

  “This is bullshit,” someone growled from the back, their anonymity making them bold.

  A chorus of ‘yeahs’ sounded in agreement.

  My eyes shifted back to the Council table, falling on the grizzled werewolf representative. Danger was coming off of him in waves. His eyes were narrowed, a soft red glow shining from the depths. His face was flushed, which only served to make the thick scar running down his face more noticeable. I didn’t know the guy, but even I could tell he was barely reining in his temper.

  “Serafina, how can you allow this?” the lavender-haired beauty questioned.

  A woman with dark blue hair rose from her place at the table, her butterfly wings twitching with what I assumed was agitation. “Rules were broken, the Council does not disagree. But a vote was cast, and this is the path that was chosen.”

  “Notice how she emphasized it was the Council’s choice?” I whispered to Graves.

  He nodded. “The fae are rarely lenient. Anything less than execution would not appeal to them.”

  Despite the united front they were presenting, the Council was far from unified about this decision. Three of the seven must have fought against the choice. My gut was telling me that didn’t bode well for the rest of us.

  Alexander made an angry sound low in his throat. “Enough. The decision has been made. The Council’s ruling is law. You will stop this foolish whining and return to your lives. Any further acts of violence against the wolf packs or the reapers will not be tolerated. We will enforce a zero-tolerance policy for anyone caught participating in such acts of hate. The threat is neutralized, the curfew is lifted, you are all safe. That is all you need to know.”

  Around us, the murmurs of dissent grew louder.

  “Dirty soul-stealer,” a low, angry voice hissed behind me.

  “If there’s a zero tolerance for violence, then why is the wolf-pup being shown leniency?” another voice cried out.

  “Someone should tell your dad that ordering people to just get along rarely works out well,” I whispered. “It’s like telling someone to get over their feelings. Things aren’t that easy. If anything, it’s only going to make it worse.”

>   Graves lifted a brow. “You think I don’t know that?”

  “So why is he acting like he’s just done everybody a favor, then?” I asked, truly curious.

  “Because he probably believes he did,” Graves said.

  I gestured to the crowd. “Is he blind? Do these people look happy to you?”

  Graves’ lips twisted in a grimace. “Some of them?” he replied, but it sounded like a question.

  “Meeting adjourned—” Alexander started, but he was cut off by a dozen angry voices.

  “You owe us justice, reaper!” a dark-haired vampire shouted.

  “The dead have rights,” another woman insisted.

  Alexander’s voice dropped to a scary, seething tone. “The next person who talks out against the Council’s ruling will be imprisoned for the foreseeable future.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t realize stifling freedom of speech was a tenant of supernatural society.”

  “It isn’t,” Graves said, his voice hard. “He feels locked into a corner between the Council and his own position over the reapers. If people start questioning that position, there will be problems. He doesn’t know how to fix the damage done, so he’s falling back on the only thing he knows.” Graves looked sideways, his blue eyes falling on me. “Aggression.”

  “If he actually imprisons someone for speaking out—” My own voice was drowned out as the vampire male from before interjected.

  “The Council’s ruling? Or your ruling?”

  A hush fell over the room as Alexander’s face turned red with anger.

  “That’s it.” He snapped his fingers. “Dominick. Samuel. Dale—”

  “Really, Desdamona? You’ll stand for this? Your own kind silenced by a reaper who’s gone soft?”

  The man’s open questioning of the vampiress told me things were only going to move from bad to worse if this kept up. Tempers were running high. The loss was too great. These people didn’t want justice, they wanted revenge. Retribution.