by Michele Vail
“In here,” I said. “You’ll be safe.”
It floated toward the orb, and then wiggled into it. Now it looked like a very warped lava lamp, bouncing around in excitement. It looked wounded. And wrong.
I held the orb in one hand, and kept my other hand on Rick’s chest.
He didn’t open his eyes. And that was okay. He would have an empty gaze anyway.
Rick took one long, slow breath, and died.
I sat there for a moment with an ache so big it squashed my lungs, my heart. Then I put it all away. At least, I tried. Maybe later, I could take it back out again, examine these emotions, and figure out a way to deal.
“What will happen to his body?”
“I’ll return with him to Las Vegas. I’ll create a scenario where his death makes sense.” Rath put a hand on my shoulder.
“Thank you,” I managed. And then, “Don’t tell me how sorry you are. Please.”
We stood there in silence, and I felt horribly sad. At the same time, taking his soul had a sense of rightness.
“What do I do now?”
“We go into the Underworld.” He let go of me and walked toward the hearth. He paused before the odd, no-heat fire and swept his arm forward. “After you.”
My heart thudded. I walked to the edge of the hearth and peered into the wavering dark. “This goes to the Underworld?”
“Yes.” He gave me a little shove and I was propelled forward, right into the flames.
Instead of burning, I felt like I’d been dipped into arctic waters. The darkness swirled like ink poured into crystalline water and then the world all around turned gray.
“The Shallows,” said Rath. This time he didn’t seem overly worried that I was alive and walking around in them. “C’mon.”
We moved ahead, marching through the gray mists. There was nothing discernible about the Shallows—no landmarks, no landscapes, no sense of space.
It seemed that we walked that way forever in silence. The air eventually thickened, and soon it felt like I was trying to breathe in syrup. It smelled heavily of sandalwood and underneath that musky scent, I detected an ashy smell.
The gates appeared.
“Are those...”
“Bones,” confirmed Rath.
The gates were huge, so tall and wide that it looked as though two giants could walk through side by side and not touch the bleached, gleaming bones.
“They say these are the bones of the old gods. The ones destroyed before Isis and Osiris brought peace to the world. Their magic is so strong they can bind in the dead—and trap immortals.”
“Whoa.”
I reached out and touched the strange skull that seemed to serve as the handle.
“This is as far as I can go,” said Rath. “Once you walk inside, you’ll travel down a corridor. At the end of it, you’ll enter the chamber of Maat. There you’ll plead Rick’s case. If she finds him worthy, she’ll repair his soul and guide him into the next world.”
Terror bleached through my skin and threatened to paralyze me. I turned a wide-eyed gaze to Rath, unable to express how much I did not want to walk through those gates.
He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. This seemed to be the most comfort he could offer—and it was far too inadequate. “I’ll wait for you.”
I nodded, my gaze sliding away from his and to the massive bone gates. Then I pushed on the elongated, one-eyed skull of a nameless god and entered the Underworld.
The corridor was made of red sandstone that reached so far up, I couldn’t see the top. The interior walls held gold-etched hieroglyphs that began to glow as I passed. In its glass barrier Rick’s soul leaped around as though it had been electrified.
My heart thudded, and sweat slicked the curve of my spine.
Then the corridor opened into a huge chamber. Above was a purple sky marbled by thin, golden clouds. Below the floor was interlocked red stones. And at the end of the chamber was a platform.
A gorgeous woman, who looked younger than I was, sat on a large throne made of beautifully carved and painted stone. She wore a white dress belted at the waist but no shoes. Her skin was the color of a caramel macchiato. Her long black hair gleamed like a raven’s wing; a narrow gold circlet sat atop her straight, shiny locks.
It was the only jewelry she wore.
“Come forward,” she said in a low, soothing voice. “And present yourself for judgment.”
I approached Maat with knees shaking so bad, I thought I might collapse. I finally made it to the platform. When I stood before her, dry-mouthed and terrified, she rose.
She stood before her throne, her gaze on the soul that spun inside the orb.
There was a great sound—like the music and chanting I’d heard before when souls sought the light—and Anubis appeared on one side of the throne. Then a creature with a crocodile head and a woman’s nude body appeared on the other.
And a man dressed in a simple black robe—and, oh yeah, he had the head of a bird, an ibis to be exact. He, I surmised, was Thoth, the scribe who would record the proceedings.
Anubis, FYI, had the head of sleek black jackal, his traditional form as the god of the Underworld. He stared straight ahead, not acknowledging me at all. He wore some kind of colorful skirt and held in his left hand a long, silver scythe.
That couldn’t be good.
“Present the soul,” said Maat. She waved her hand and a huge scale appeared. One side held a single, white feather.
Everyone turned to look at me, waiting for me to relinquish Rick’s soul. I swallowed the knot in my throat, and cleared it a few times. “It’s not whole,” I said. “I was hoping you could repair it.”
Maat stared at me with distant eyes. “Why is it not whole?”
I licked my cracked lips, my heart beating so hard I thought it might pop out of my chest. Sweat trickled down my brow. “I tried to save him. I didn’t know...what I know now.”
“I do not understand why humans struggle so against death. It is not an ending.” She turned her gaze to mine. “You have done a great disservice to this being. What do you offer as penance?”
My gaze slid to Anubis, but he stood there like a statue, staring straight ahead. Obviously, I was on my own. I wanted to whine, to rail against the unfairness of everything, but all I heard in my head was Irina telling me to suck it up. Be afraid if you must, useless one, but do what you must anyway.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Penance,” she said simply.
Well, I didn’t know what to do with that. What did penance constitute? Forty lashes? Laps around the football field? The removal of a limb? I wasn’t sure what to say, so I stood there like a moron. And the goddess, who apparently had all the time in like, forever, to wait on my answer, didn’t move while she waited for my answer.
“Goddess.”
Maat turned, and looked at the god who’d spoken. “My lord Anubis?”
“Might I suggest that the reaper owe you a favor as her penance?”
Maat inclined her head and then faced me. “Three favors, Molly Bartolucci. One for the injustice of the soul you harmed, one for the healing now required of the one called Richard Widdenstock and one because I have honored Anubis’s request.”
I wasn’t going to negotiate. “Okay,” I said. “Three favors for you.”
She smiled. Then she lifted her hand and the orb popped free of my grip. The glass shattered. The soul zoomed forward, as if eager to see Maat.
“Poor child,” she murmured. She closed her eyes, and for the longest moment we stood there while she prayed or something. I was feeling deeply respectful of everyone in the room.
Especially the scary crocodile lady.
“Ah,” said Maat. She held up her palm, and two wiggling blue lights appeared. She cupped the parts of Rick’s soul in both hands, brought them to her lips and whispered.
When she opened her hands, Rick’s soul was whole again. The blue circle floated into the empty scale and settled on it like a b
utterfly alighting onto a flower.
Maat considered the scale, which stayed even.
“I have found him worthy. Release him to the heavens.” The scale disappeared instantly, leaving Rick’s soul bobbing there all alone.
Anubis stepped forward then and sliced open the air with his scythe. Blue light and the music/chanting poured forth from the slit.
Rick’s soul zipped inside and everything disappeared.
Maat returned to her throne. Thoth finished writing on his papyrus and poofed away.
Anubis crossed to me and gestured for me to leave. “I’ll walk you to the gates.”
We reached the corridor in no time. As we traversed its narrow, gold-flecked length, I held my breath. I couldn’t wait to return to the real world. The Underworld, at least this part of it, was nerve-racking.
“Every soul goes through that?” I asked. “It seems like you guys would be sitting there all day.”
“Some souls are so stained with their sins they are snapped up into the jaws of the gobbler. Others do not have to be judged—they go straight into the heavens.” He looked at me, his snout twitching. “It’s complicated.”
We strode across the misty gray nothingness, and ahead, I could see the arch of the bone gates. I put my hand on Anubis’s arm, and he stopped.
“You know who my father is,” I said. I sucked in a breath. “It’s why you choose me, right? It’s why I’m kind of a Super Reaper.”
“Yes,” said Anubis. “I know who your father is.”
My heart tried to climb out of my throat. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
Anubis’s jackal face reverted into his human one. He took my hands into his. “I told you that you were prophesied.” He squeezed my hands. “And yes, Molly, you are my daughter. Of my heart. And of my seed.”
Ugh. Seed? Way to ruin a moment, Dad #2.
“So you and my mom...um, you know...hooked up?”
“It wasn’t quite that simple, Molly.”
He didn’t say anything else, so I said, “Aaaaaand...?”
“It’s not relevant right now,” he said. “You need rest. And to reconnect with your human father. You’re my child, too, Molly. It makes you very special, but there is a price to be paid, too. Knowing that I’m your father—that has to be enough for now.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
And you know what? It was pretty cool to finally know.
MOLLY’S REAPER DIARY
What to Do if Your Bio-Dad Turns Out to Be Anubis
First, relax, because even if you are a reaper, Anubis probably isn’t your real dad. I mean, maybe some of the other Underworld gods played nookie with your mom, but...unlikely.
Second, if Anubis is your dad, you’re not supposed to ditch your human family. It’s not cool, even if they LIED to you for your whole entire life.
Third, you’ll probably be special in a way that requires you to work hard and do things you don’t want to do. Like be responsible.
Fourth, you have to grow up. You have to be brave. You have to give up stuff you want because who you are is more important than malls and cute boys.
Finally, if Anubis is your dad, your life will suck. But you know what? It will also rock.
Epilogue
I woke up on Monday morning to Henry leaning over my bed. His expression held vague concern. “Your presence is requested.”
“Ugh!”
After killing my boyfriend, escorting his soul to the Underworld and finding out my freaking sperm donor was Anubis, I had returned to my room and crawled into bed. My friends had arrived en masse to offer comfort, movies and chocolate, but after a while they’d all drifted back to their own rooms.
I’d spent the night crying and sleeping until finally, I was just sleeping.
“I’m not going to class,” I said. Ever again.
“It is Ms. Chiles who requires your time. I’m afraid it’s urgent—and not something you can reschedule.”
Really? Gah. I sat up and threw off the covers. “Fine. Whatevs.”
I got dressed and brushed my hair, and then followed Henry around the castle until we ended up somewhere on the second floor. Henry led me to a large, ornate door that had necro symbols carved all over it.
“You’re still my go-to guy, right?” I asked, as I stared at the door. I felt like I shouldn’t go in there. A bad feeling lodged in the pit of my stomach. “Maybe we could go live in Mexico. Or Canada.”
“Destiny is not so easily escaped,” offered Henry. “I will come whenever you call me.”
“Thanks.”
I entered the room, feeling exhausted. I just wanted to go back to bed and sleep. Or maybe eat some of that chocolate stash and then sleep for a hundred years.
The room was small and held only a long, dark wood table in front of it, and sitting at the table, three people.
Medusa Chiles sat in the middle, her expression grim. A plump woman dressed in an alarming shade of purple sat to her right, and on the left, a man with a long, gray beard. He wore glasses and a checkered jacket. He looked confused, as though he wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten here.
Me, either, buddy.
“Please come forward,” directed Ms. Chiles.
I didn’t like this. It felt weird. Maybe it was another Nekros Society thing? “Molly,” said Ms. Chiles. Her expression was as smooth as glass. “We’ve convened a council of three, as outlined in Nekyia Academy’s bylaws.” She stretched out her hands on the table and threaded her fingers together. “This is done when an accusation of forbidden necro magic is levied against a student.”
I had been slowly walking toward the table, and I stopped about a foot away. There was no place for me to sit, so I stood before the table of judges feeling awkward and unsure.
“Um, okay. Why am I—” I heard Irina’s voice in my head telling me to stop babbling. Shut up. Listen. Assess the situation, Molly. Prepare yourself.
I pressed my lips together and stilled.
“We’ve become aware of a situation where you took a soul from a dying woman and gave it to an enemy of Anubis.”
Ms. Chiles’s quiet accusation chilled the air. The people on either side of her eyed me with some amount of trepidation.
I said nothing.
“We have evidence of this,” she continued. She nodded toward the checkered jacket man. He lifted his arm and muttered something.
The black soul box that I’d last seen in Yuri’s possession appeared on the table. I had taken it with me...put it in my room.
And this council of three somehow had known that I had the box.
How?
“Do you recognize this item?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And you’re aware of its purpose?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve used it?”
I nodded.
“She admits to the use of forbidden objects and magic,” said the lady in purple in a clipped tone. Her brown eyes filled with worry. “No necro has yielded such power since...” She trailed off.
“We do not render judgment,” said the man in a deep, lazy tone, as though he were merely commenting on the weather. “Until we have all the facts and hear from all parties involved.”
Gah. What was going on here? I just couldn’t catch a break.
Ms. Chiles stood up, her robe rustling. “Molly Bartolucci, you are hereby charged with illegal use of necromancy and the use of forbidden objects. You will be taken into custody by the Guardians and confined until your trial.”
* * * * *
Look for Molly’s next adventure UNCHOSEN Book 2 of THE REAPER DIARIES, in 2013! Only from Michele Vail and Harlequin TEEN.
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin ebook. Connect with us for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Subscribe to our newsletter: Harlequin.com/newsletters
Visit Harlequin.com
We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com
ISBN: 9781459249103
Copyright © 2012 by Michele Bardsley
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com