The corners of his lips curled into a sly smile, one that made his blue eyes twinkle with amusement. “I needn’t try very hard, but no. It was actually a compliment.”
“Calling me a walking contradiction is complimentary?”
He gripped the handle above his door as he answered. “Mind your speed, please, and your steering.”
She took a deep breath and focused on the road. Lowering her blood pressure would take longer, as it always did with the reaper, but he was right. Oh, the irony. A nearly fatal car crash had put her in the crosshairs of the spirit world. It wouldn’t do to kill herself and the newly mortal reaper in one now.
Slowly, Darkmore released the handle and straightened in his seat. Had she really scared him? That was more jarring than their earlier intimacy. “In answer to your question, yes. As exasperating and mercurial as your moods can be, they are as refreshing as they are unpredictable.”
She cleared her throat, hoping to hide her reaction to his earlier fear. Then she said, “That still doesn’t sound particularly complimentary.”
“Consider the source. Recent circumstances notwithstanding, my greatest enemy is and has always been boredom. It is the enemy for all ancient beings. You are many wonderful and terrible things, but you’ll never be dull. Ah, I believe this is our stop.”
With monumental effort, she shifted her focus from the reaper and managed to park. The crisp autumn air infused her lungs when she stepped out of the car, and a survey of the landscape filled her with giddy anticipation, renewed by yet another startling revelation—he found her intriguing.
No, that wasn’t quite right. She’d intrigued him from the beginning. When the reaper first came calling, he’d toyed with her rather than claim her soul. Not because he’d been unable to claim her—she was under no illusions about his power and capacity for cruelty, his appetite for darkness. Her soul’s darkness had called to him. No, he’d been both fascinated and infuriated with what she was. The guardian spirit who’d been meant to claim her soul had left her alive, trapped between the world of the living and the dead, and it had granted her the power to channel spirit energy while still alive, a living soul broker. He’d also coveted her power to channel spirit energy from the living, something not even the most powerful spirit, guardian, or reaper could do.
He couldn’t take from the living, but he could take it from her, if and when she chose to give it. She’d held out on the guardians, but freely gave her excess energy to the reaper. He took the heavy burdens she collected from the living, giving her sweet relief as she fed his darkness. Convenient, symbiotic even, but she’d never realized she was particularly interesting to him on more than a superficial level.
That she could interest an entity such as the reaper in something other than a predatory sense was extraordinary.
She tossed Darkmore the keys and jogged to the trailhead, pausing briefly to read the requisite description etched on the wooden placard. A realm of trees, water, and reflections to soothe a tired soul? She could stand a little of that.
“Are you coming?” Vivian yelled back to her companion.
“Go on. I’ll catch up.”
Perhaps he sensed her need for solitude, or maybe he wished for some of his own. Either way, she was pleased with the opportunity to explore on her own. As far as she could tell, they had the entire area to themselves. It was probably too cold for alligators, but she could always spot birds. And the patch of colorful deciduous trees along the water’s edge deserved a look. Their leaf litter framed the wide, moss-covered bases of the bald cypress clusters that jutted out of the inky water. The odd patch of algae added an extra touch of green. Smaller cypress knees peeked out intermittently, adorning the scene with angles and a sense of texture. The morning mist that hadn’t quite dissipated still clung low to the earth.
In short, it was a hidden paradise, and she was eager to discover its secrets.
She continued along the trail, utterly delighted to discover the network of overwater wooden bridges. Walking slowly, the better to savor the peace and beauty of her surroundings, was her intention. But each step, turn of her head, or sidelong glance filled her hungry gaze with a new scene more gorgeous than the last.
Movement on the opposite shore captured her attention and she quickened her pace. Once there, she wondered if she’d let her imagination get the better of her. Something was off. She stopped to focus on what her senses might reveal, on the sights and sounds around her. Only, there were no sounds. They’d all stopped.
That couldn’t be good.
She shivered from a mixture of fear and a familiar drop in temperature.
“Darkmore, this isn’t funny,” she yelled. “Quit messing around and come on out!”
She waited a few moments. Vivian considered calling out for him again, but out of spite decided against it. He’d enjoy that too much. Instead, she turned with a huff and prepared to walk back the way she came.
If she hadn’t looked up at the last minute, she would have run right into a hundred and fifty pounds of menacing canine blocking her path back to the bridge.
The lone wolf sat on its haunches as it stared at Vivian with dusky eyes, ears perked and pointed forward as it regarded her. She stood frozen in place, not wanting to make any sudden movements. Running would only entice the predator to give chase. The wolf didn’t move, but Vivian knew enough to be very afraid. She’d never seen one this close, at least without the safety of a moat and chain link separating her from danger. Park rangers always dismissed sightings east of the Mississippi, except for the grudging acknowledgment that some still stalked the forests of Maine.
Apparently, those park rangers were wrong.
She took a slow, cautious step back, keeping eye contact and raising her hands to appear bigger. If she could convince the wolf she was a threat, perhaps it would slink back into the swamp and leave her unmauled.
“Go on, get out of here,” she growled, taking another step back.
The wolf rose and began to stalk toward Vivian, snarling and with ears back. Vivian kicked up some dirt and leaf litter. She glanced around for a large stone or a stick, anything she could use as a weapon as the beast continued bearing down on her. Grabbing a medium sized branch, she swung it in the wolf’s direction and let out a primal scream.
Instead of slinking back and fleeing, the beast swatted and answered with a raspy, high-pitched howl that echoed through the swamp.
She fought the urge to run, trading fear for anger. Unlike most mortals, she had powerful weapons of the supernatural variety with which to defend herself.
“I didn’t come this far to be dinner!”
She crouched low and threw a blast of red light at the wolf, aiming for the beast’s head. No point in messing around with death on the horizon, endangered species act be damned.
The wolf vanished before Vivian’s energy struck her.
Vivian yelped first in surprise and again when she heard the bulky cypress crash into the water. The smoke rising from the sunken hardwood showed her blast would have been lethal if it had hit its mark. She spun around, mind and body on high alert as she tried to predict where her assailant would materialize next.
“Come on out and fight,” she screamed.
Within the span of a heartbeat, the impact from behind knocked her to the ground, immobilized by the wolf’s powerful, muscled body. It left her winded and unable to see, though she made an attempt to frighten the creature by firing bursts of light blind. She curled her fingers and fired again, hoping like hell she could get the beast off of her long enough to get her bearings, get up, and fight or flee.
The scent of burning flesh and an angry canine wail let her know she’d hit some part of the wolf, which she could only assume was some sort of demonic beast. Ordinary wolves didn’t vanish and rematerialize. The wolf shifted its weight, and Vivian managed to roll out from under it and onto her back. She knew the risks, but reckoned she’d be in a better position to do some damage to her otherworldly attacker.
The wolf pounced on her and placed its face close to Vivian. The animal’s hot breath seared her face in spite of the chill it carried. Any closer and massive fangs could graze her nose. A tilt of the animal’s head could put Vivian’s tender neck into the perilous grip of bone-crushing jaws. Whatever this creature’s true identity, it held Vivian’s life, and quite possibly her soul, in its grasp.
“What do you want with me?” she asked, gasping for air. The beast had knocked the wind out of her when she pounced. Fear-induced hyperventilation didn’t help.
The she wolf—Vivian had gotten a close enough look to identify the beast as female—cocked her grey head to one side, regarding Vivian. Then the wolf snarled and leaned in closer. Vivian closed her eyes and wait for the attack. Hopefully it would be quick and relatively painless. The weight on her chest grew heavier and she felt the air being pulled from her lungs.
Panic struck and she thrashed her head from side to side, struggling to close her mouth. She remembered the old fairy tales of werewolves. They’d come and steal your life, and your soul along with it, condemning you to transform into a ravening beast at every full moon. She’d always dismissed the belief as silly superstition. But as she’d learned over the past year, some of those superstitions proved to be all too true.
Using the last of her strength, she raised her legs and torso in an attempt to fling the wolf from her body. The beast growled a warning and Vivian swore she heard the animal inhale even deeper. She waited for suffocation overtake her.
Instead, she felt a rather familiar pull.
Her eyes flew open in time to watch the wisps of red light escape from her mouth and enter the open mouth of the wolf, rays carrying her terror and rage with them. The wolf’s pink tongue flicked out along its mouth like a pet dog who’d just indulged in a treat.
Its sandpaper tongue grazed her cheek. Then she felt as well as heard the low rumble of a friendly, yipping bark
What the hell?
The wolf continued to alternate between grooming herself and laving Vivian with her tongue. She rubbed her face against Vivian’s cheek, the texture of her rough whiskers a stark contrast to supple fur. Vivian’s breathing had returned to normal. She felt the freshness of cleansing relief that always came with transfer of the burdens she carried. Still, she remained uneasy. This reaper in feline form was nonetheless a reaper.
And this reaper wasn’t Darkmore.
“All right, already. You’re full, we’re both clean—sort of—so can you let me up now? My back’s getting sore.”
The wolf stared at her and then whined softly, at least as softly as was possible for a canine of her size. She raised a large paw to Vivian’s face and delivered a playful swat. One claw nicked her left cheek.
“Ouch! Seriously, you’ve had your fun, now get off already!”
The wolf blew a puff of light into Vivian’s face and then leapt off of her.
Vivian breathed in the light and felt a cool rush of raw power fill her being. She rose as the musky scent of earth, decaying leaves, the pungent aromas of long-gone wildlife filled her senses. Her ears perked forward at the sound of scampering along the periphery of the clearing.
Vivian pounced.
I pounced? Why am I still so low to the ground?
Rational thought abandoned her as her keen eyes spotted a flash of black taking flight. The harsh caw triggered the urge to pursue, the mad desire to capture and kill. The flash of black whirred past. Vivian followed.
She barely had time to register the blur of amber, gold, and gray in the landscape around as her focus narrowed to the target ahead until tunnel vision overcame her, leaving her aware only of her prey. It flew low to the ground as it taunted her. She matched every turn and followed at inhuman speed. Strength and power surged through an unfamiliar body, and she felt as well as heard her primal howl.
Her howl grew louder when the black bird swooped down and clawed her hindquarters. She whirled out to capture it in strong, bone-crushing jaws. It managed to elude her the full impact of her bite, but not before she gave it a good scrape. Vivian stopped long enough to savor the blood on her tongue. She wasn’t certain what she found more shocking—her jaws, the irresistible drive to taste the blood of her enemy, or how much she relished the coppery tang of the blood.
They continued the chase until the raven led her to another clearing. Vivian stopped just inside the tree line as awareness of another presence filled her keen senses. She crouched low and inhaled through her nostrils and mouth as she tasted and smelled the creature. The scent was male and musky, though not unpleasant. Her sensitive paw pads picked up vibrations in the earth as the creature moved.
He’d scented her as well.
Ears back, teeth exposed in a snarl, Vivian slinked out of the brush and spotted a massive black bear. Though her perspective was arguably skewed, he looked more massive than the ones she’d seen before in normal life. He darted from side to side and growled in frustration. She rose, figuring that it would be best to display confidence and ferocity so as to avoid an actual fight. Head high, ears forward, and still sporting her snarl, Vivian loped up to the bear and stood less than three feet in front of him.
Instead of answering her challenge and invasion of his territory, the bear kept turning and shaking his head. He sniffed at the air all around paced the ground in front of her. She quirked her head, perplexed at his lack of response. Then it dawned on her.
He doesn’t see me!
She was about to belt out another howl when the bird appeared and settled on the bear’s shoulder. The raven’s black eyes burned with malice, deceit, and a smug invitation to catch him if she could. Rage snuffed out all thoughts of danger and she lunged. The bear caught her scent and movement. He swung a massive paw and knocked her aside.
She felt the blow throughout her lupine body but recovered quickly. She managed to catch the bear’s flank with her own fierce jaws as he swatted again and rolled away before he had the chance to land on top of her when he lunged. She circled in an attempt to get behind him, but his sense of smell appeared to compensate for his apparent lack of vision as he matched her movements.
She became aware of other creatures surrounding them in the clearing, like spectators at a boxing match. The bear seemed to relax as they made their presence known. They gazed at him with reverence, even the smallest and most helpless. He roared, and they moved until he stood between them and Vivian.
She couldn’t speak, but she conveyed her desire by looking skyward and growling. The raven cawed and then landed behind the bear. He hopped along the ground, pausing to peck one of the smaller creatures with his sharp beak. A bit of light escaped from the wound and the bird took it in, leaving the small beast shuddering.
She leapt over the bear and grasped the bird in her mouth. The other animals set upon her with claws, fangs, and hooves digging into her flesh. Vivian tried to throw them off, but they were too many. If she released the raven, she might be able to escape. But then none would be safe from its wickedness. One snap of her powerful jaws would end it, but they might end her.
The raven cried out and the others called the bear. Then, the great black beast bore down upon her.
She’d have to choose quickly.
“Vivian.”
She heard the familiar voice even as she braced for the blow.
“Vivian!”
She bolted upright and brought her hands to her face to shield it from her attacker.
I have hands again.
“Vivian, calm yourself.”
She dropped her hands and saw the reaper’s face in front of hers. He looked concerned, which was pretty unusual for him. She couldn’t recall any of her previous forays into the realm of spirits producing that kind of reaction, save one.
The one in which she’d traveled to his own dark realm.
“How long have I been gone?”
He quirked a brow and answered. “By my estimate, you were ahead of me by around five minutes. I came upon you ly
ing prone on the cold ground but a moment ago. If you traveled to another realm, it cost you no time in this one.”
She accepted his proffered hand and he pulled her up. Fussing over her, he ran his long fingers over her body in search of injuries and scanned her with his icy eyes. It left her with odd mixture of embarrassment and excitement.
Under his scrutiny, she processed the odd mixture of sensations coursing through every fiber of her being—embarrassment, arousal, and exhilaration. Power and hunger lingered after her strange trip to what she figured was the spirit realm’s version of Wild Kingdom.
“Whoa,” she said, batting the reapers hands away so she could pace up and down with excitement. “That was incredible!”
“Be still and let me examine you.”
“I’m fine. Better than fine, actually,” she said, giving Darkmore’s hand a little pat of reassurance before the details of her bizarre encounter came spilling out. “I was walking along, and I came across this wolf, which is weird since they’re supposed to be long gone east of the Mississippi and this far south, right? Anyway, I saw the wolf, only it wasn’t a wolf…it was one of you guys, you know? A spirit. One with a lot of power. I think she was a reaper since she came with a chill. She knocked me down and sucked out my light. Then she gave me some of hers and I just, I, well, I became her. I mean, I think I did. Maybe she knocked me out and I just had some crazy, screwed up dream or something.”
The reaper just stared at her. His normal calm and intractable expression had replaced concern and he coolly regarded her. She huffed and rolled her eyes. This might be everyday, run-of-the-mill stuff for him, but even in her ever-expanding universe, it qualified as spectacular.
“Look, I know you’ve seen and done it all, or pretty near to it, but this is seriously blowing my mind—”
“There’s no need to become defensive, Vivian,” he replied as he turned and surveyed the area. He seemed almost distracted. She was about to go off on him again when he spun around, brought her close, placed his mouth on hers and drew out her light energy with more force than she’d ever felt.
The Quick and the Dead Page 9