Reaper Reborn

by Kel Carpenter

  Since James’ role in the massacre—and his subsequent death—was being left out, these people didn’t realize that the one at fault had already been dealt with. The werewolf—who was just sentenced to a lifetime of confinement within his packs’ borders—was a victim of this same blind hate. His desire for vengeance after his brother was killed was what led him to kill James, who in turn split both his own soul and the wolf’s. This all-consuming need for revenge was what started this mess, and if we didn’t find a way to neutralize it—the bloody cycle would only continue.

  “You were given a warning, Rembrandt, and you chose to not heed it. Regardless of your opinion on the ruling, you chose to speak.” She lifted one pale shoulder, and the strap of her black slinky dress slid downwards as she watched in stone-cold silence while the three young reapers approached the vampire.

  “This isn’t right,” I said under my breath.

  “No,” Graves agreed. “But it’s the world we live in.”

  I frowned, not liking the complacency in his tone. Before I could say anything else, the lavender-haired fae stepped forward.

  “This is wrong, Serafina. The wolf killed members of every species. He put the entire supernatural community at risk. This is a direct violation of the first rule, and the consequence has always been execution. The rules aren’t being bent; they’re being disregarded entirely. The reapers are supposed to uphold our laws. If they cannot fulfill their purpose in doing so, and the Council is choosing to cover it up instead of holding them accountable . . .” The fae woman trailed off and lifted a lavender eyebrow.

  Serafina turned pale. “Don’t you dare—”

  “I invoke the Rite of the Masses on the grounds that the Council’s ethics and judgment have been clouded by personal ties.”

  Silence filled the void where murmurs and cries of outrage had been only moments ago.

  I turned to Graves, but his expression was locked down hard. “What does that mean?”

  “We’re going to vote,” he said solemnly.

  “On what?”

  “On whether or not the Council members get to keep their positions.”

  “And if it’s decided they don’t?”

  “Then we’ll have to choose replacements, and they will reevaluate the werewolf’s fate.”

  3

  Rock the Vote

  If I thought the room was tense before, that was nothing compared to emotion overtaking the room now.

  Excitement.

  Outrage.

  Violence.

  They were all there, bubbling up like magma rising through the center of a volcano. Shit was about to erupt.

  Alexander hadn’t moved, but he was quietly seething from his place on the stage. Seraphina looked like she was about to faint. The other Council members were harder to read, but their expressions ranged from disinterest to curiosity to annoyance.

  “Does this kind of thing happen all the time?” I asked Graves, wondering why people were so afraid of the Council if it was that easy to swap out members.

  “Are you kidding?” Graves asked. “Who in their right mind wants to call out the Council in front of them? Even assuming that one of the three grounds allowing for Rite of the Masses has been met, can you begin to imagine what happens if the vote fails?”

  “Isn’t there, like, protection against retaliation or something?”

  Graves gave me a look.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” I muttered.

  People began to shuffle around us, those that had been lucky enough to find seats rising to their feet as the lavender-haired faerie made her way to the stage.

  “What are the grounds?” I whispered, as my eyes followed the fae’s movements.

  “Bias, corruption, and threat of reveal.”

  “Threat of reveal?” I repeated.

  “Undertaking an act that would threaten to reveal our existence to the mortal world.”

  I pressed my lips together. They really did take rule number one seriously.

  “What happens to a Council member that is voted out?” I asked, my voice dropping even lower.

  “We don’t stone them to death, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Well, I mean, you seem to want to execute people for everything else, so can you blame me for wondering?”

  Graves shook his head, purposely fixing his eyes on the woman who was now standing just beside his father. The air of expectation swelled as Alexander cleared his throat.

  “Nocturna, the floor is yours,” he said, his voice smooth despite the slight tightening around his eyes.

  Adjusting her leaf-colored dress, the lavender-haired fae woman stepped forward and stared out at the crowd, letting the silence and anticipation mount.

  “Wait, we’re doing this right now?” I hissed, eyes going wide.

  “With something this big, it’s better to act right away,” Graves whispered.

  “It seems a little extreme, having to vote right in front of them,” I muttered.

  “Thus my earlier comment,” Graves said. “Now hush.”

  I scowled at him, my eyes drifting to the older-looking gentleman to my left. It was rare to see a supernatural with obvious signs of aging, especially with so many having extended lifetimes—reapers notwithstanding. He caught me staring, turning deep amber eyes upon me.

  Sexual heat slammed into me, turning my core into a pool of molten liquid.

  “Knock it off, incubus,” Graves growled beside me, grabbing my arm and pulling me back.

  I wasn’t aware I’d tried to move closer to the stranger until the unexpected warmth faded and my head cleared.

  “Jesus, that was intense,” I muttered, blinking.

  “Some of us get stronger with age,” Graves said.

  “No kidding,” I murmured, moving a little closer to my reaper. So much had happened since returning home, sometimes I forgot how little I actually knew about the world I belonged to.

  Finally, Nocturna started to speak. “People of Farrow’s Square, the choice is up to you. The facts are before you. The Council has knowingly refused to act according to our most ancient laws—namely by not executing one who has proven themselves to be a significant and dangerous threat to the lives of our people, and a threat to exposing us all. In doing so, they fail to remain neutral, just, or fair. They have not acted in the best interest of all of Farrow’s Square’s citizens, but rather have allowed personal biases to inform their decisions. This betrayal of our laws cannot go unpunished. So I ask you now, remedy this failure. All in favor of removing the current Council members from their positions, raise your hand.”

  Hands flew up around us. There was no moment of indecision, no glancing around to see what others were doing. This was a decisive and determined choice, one that had clearly been made long before the faerie started speaking.

  Graves and I were two of the only people not to lift our hands in the air. It wasn’t hard to tell factions apart like this. The floor was at a bit of an angle, so even standing it was obvious who was—or wasn’t—raising their hands. For the most part, the room seemed split by species. Not a single wolf had their hand up, while practically every vamp or fae did. The rest of us were more divided, but there was no doubt about the general consensus.

  The vote passed.

  The Council would be overturned.

  Dread thickened in my stomach because I had a feeling that wasn’t the only thing that would be overturned.

  “What happens now?” I asked as the room broke out in a dull roar.

  Graves grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the way of the exit as people started pushing their way toward it. “For the next twenty-four hours, the supernatural world has no Council.”

  “That doesn’t sound very good,” I commented as a group of vampires passed us, their dislike clear in their eyes.

  “It’s not. There’s a lot of reasons the Rite of the Masses isn’t called on often. The chaos that’s going to ensue until a new Council is formed is one of them.”
/>
  The last of the vamp crowd strode by, hissing at the werewolves that parted for them. A series of growls rumbled in the chests of a few good ol’ boys that didn’t take too kindly. I sensed a fight brewing when a voice rang out above them.

  “Keep on walking. There’s nothing to fight about. The vote has been cast, and that’s the end of it.” My best friend stood between two werewolves, her hands on her hips as she addressed the crowd. Unable to withstand her compulsion, the vampires walked out and the wolves turned away. The tension dissipated.

  I pushed through the last of the crowd still lingering.

  “It’s a madhouse in here,” I said as I approached her.

  Tamsin turned and then paused. Leaning forward, she sniffed once. Her eyes blew wide. “You naughty girl—”

  “Tam,” I groaned, already knowing where this was going. “This is so not the place.”

  “As a succubus, I will have to respectfully disagree. Every place is a place to have sex with the right crowd,” she grinned, and the werewolf beside her smiled back.

  I ran a hand down my face. “Don’t we have bigger things to worry about right now?”

  “At least tell me it was worth it,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward a fraction.

  A grin worked its way up my face. “What do you think?”

  She sniffed again, her eyes glowing brighter. “You went back for seconds. He must be good. You usually taste and run.”

  My back prickled, and I sensed Graves standing behind me. The scent of spearmint and aftershave hit me. I gave Tamsin a look to shut up, and my best friend grinned. A mischievous glint entered her eye.

  “She’s ‘addicted to my dick’. Isn’t that what you told me, Salem?”

  My face flamed.

  “Oh look, there’s your dad. I need to talk to him.” I stumbled forward, making my grand escape but not before I heard both Graves and Tamsin laughing.

  I glanced back to see her patting his shoulder. His eyes were still locked on my retreating form. A small smile curled around my lips as I approached the table. Alexander stood beside it, talking to Yasha and the ex-werewolf rep whose name I never learned.

  “The witches and warlocks are unlikely to change our vote, even with a new head. We value balance and the sanctity of life. Particularly when the guilty party is not so guilty,” Yasha said.

  I slowed my steps, listening in.

  “I wish I could say the same for the Brotherhood, but it’s unlikely with a power shift. The reapers’ vote is going to come down to who is selected,” Alexander said.

  Beside him, the werewolf looked up. His red-tinted gaze zeroed in on me. His voice was all snarl as he said, “Do you know what we do to eavesdroppers in my pack, little reaper?”

  I should have felt bad, getting caught red-eared . . .as it were. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk about private things in a public setting, then,” I replied.

  Alexander’s lips twitched. “Fair point, Ms. Shroud. As always.”

  The werewolf’s lips pulled back and a low growl rumbled in his throat. Yasha placed her hand on his arm and shook her head. “We can continue this conversation later,” she murmured.

  The two of them walked away, and I turned back to Graves’ dad. “It’s Kaine,” I reminded him.

  Ignoring my correction, he said, “I’m sure you have many questions about the day’s events, Salem—”

  “Actually, you’d mentioned last night that you needed to speak with me.”

  He nodded, but it was distracted. “Yes, yes. I do, but now,” he broke off and sighed. “I find myself a little busier than anticipated. Perhaps our conversation can wait another day or two? Just until things . . . settle down.”

  I raised a brow. His words said one thing, but the way he said them was sending an entirely different message. Alexander didn’t believe for a second that things were going to settle.

  “Can it? Are you sure it’s . . .wise to hold off?” What I really wanted to ask was if it was safe to put off whatever it was he felt was so urgent for me to know, but if he was willing to delay enlightening me for the second time, perhaps what he had to share wasn’t that important after all.

  His lips tightened ever so slightly, but he gave me another nod. “To put it frankly, I don’t have the time needed to fully have that discussion with you. We need to make our way to Gamma Rho. To vote.” He smiled, but it was completely devoid of humor. His blue eyes were haunted and, dare I say, afraid.

  Alexander had never seemed anything less than confident and in complete control. Even staring down James as he offered to kill his own son, he’d appeared outwardly calm. Seeing the change, albeit a subtle one, had unease slithering within me.

  “Should I even be a part of the vote?” I asked.

  Alexander blinked at me, confusion momentarily clouding his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Well . . .” I dropped my voice. “It’s not exactly like I’m a full-blooded reaper.”

  His expression cleared, but he matched my whispered tone. “No, but that is a fact best left to our house for the time being. As far as everyone else is concerned, you are a Grimm and your place is with us. Now if you’ll excuse me, I should try and catch up with some of the others before the voting process begins.”

  Alexander was walking away before I could utter a goodbye.

  “That didn’t look like it went well,” Graves said, coming up beside me.

  I shrugged. “Wasn’t much of a conversation. Your dad has a lot on his mind.”

  Graves snorted. “You think?”

  “I overheard him saying that the new head of the reapers might vote in favor of execution,” I said.

  “And that surprises you?” Graves asked, turning his body so that we were concealed from anyone who might walk by.

  “Well . . . yeah, I guess. I mean, they know the truth.”

  Graves lifted a brow. “A werewolf killed a reaper as retaliation for a sanctioned shredding. That’s what kicked all this off, and no matter what else happened, that fact doesn’t change. Add to it the part where that same wolf was at least partially responsible for the death of literally dozens of reapers over the last four years, it’s hard to let that go. You aren’t the only one who’s lost family members, Salem. The whole thing is fucked, no matter how you look at it.”

  “I know. I’m the last person who should talk given how I kidnapped James and got a little stabby on occasion . . . I just don’t want to lose anyone else. If this doesn’t calm down, we’re going to have an all-out supernatural war on our hands, and win or lose, people die in war. Not everyone gets to come back,” I murmured.

  I was thinking of Shep, and Tamsin, and Esme. I could save them. But what about everyone else? There came a point where even I had to have limits, surely? If the fighting became too obvious, the humans in Farrow’s Square would figure it out. Some already had. Esme was proof of that. And what about the people I didn’t get to? The ones I couldn’t find and therefore couldn’t save?

  I shook my head. “We need to avoid a supernatural war like that at all costs.”

  His fingers skimmed my cheek, tucking a stray strand of pink hair back. “We will, and the way to do that right now is for us to vote on the best person to represent the reapers. We can’t control anything else in this scenario, but we can contribute to that.”

  I nodded. He was right, but the feeling of dread didn’t abate so easily. There was something coming, and it wasn’t just the hunter searching for me and Thana. The tension between groups had reached its peak. After years of bitterness and bloodshed caused by James and Gerard, these people wanted revenge.

  I wasn’t sure if one execution would be enough to satiate them, though.

  “Hey, Kaine! Graves! We gotta roll,” Randy called out, loud enough to jar me from my own deep, and frankly depressing, thoughts.

  “We’ll be right there,” Graves said.

  Randy shrugged, and the last of the room emptied as the reapers left.

  “Come on,” I
sighed, heading for the door. “I need to check in on Esme and Thana before we head over. I wasn’t planning to leave them alone for so long.”

  Graves dropped a hand on my lower back as we stepped out of town hall. The parking lot was still littered with supernaturals. Several eyes turned to us as we descended the steps, and his hand shifted to curl around my hip, pulling me into his side.

  I angled my head, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Trying to make a statement, Graves?” I asked lightly.

  “Something like that,” he muttered, guiding us toward the Impala.

  My heart tightened in my chest, but I didn’t say anything as we climbed in. I turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. The couple of supes that were lingering near the car jumped away as I put us into reverse and whipped out of the lot. It didn’t miss my attention that Graves’ hand went to the oh-shit bar.

  “Trying to make a statement, Salem?” he parroted back to me.

  “Something like that.” I grinned.

  As soon as we hit the highway, I pulled out my cell and dialed Esme. The sound of a chainsaw in the background was the first thing that greeted me.

  “Everything alright?” Esme’s voice filtered through.

  “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” I replied, merging into the left lane before gunning it.

  “Everything’s fine here,” she said, sounding decidedly distracted.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Then why do I hear a chainsaw in the background?”

  “Oh, that? We’re making art.”

  “Art?” I replied skeptically.

  “Mhmm,” my aunt hummed, still distracted.

  “Esme, if something’s up, you should tell me—”

  “Everything’s all good, Salem. We’ll see you when you get home. Bye!” The line went dead, and the urge to bang my head on the steering wheel was great.

  “Should we stop by your place?” Graves asked.

  “No.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “Esme’s acting weird, but that’s not out of character for her. I’m more worried I’m going to come back to find half my house demolished than anything else. Let’s get this vote over with so I can figure out what the fuck those two are up to.”