Rise (Reaper's Redemption Book 3)

by Thea Atkinson

  I sucked in a breath. I needed to do it all at once or I wouldn't be able to do it at all. But this was much worse than tearing off a bandage. This was taking another life with calculated intention. It didn't matter that he was asking for it. He was kneeling right there in front of me, breathing audibly. I could see his pulse in his throat racing like a terrified rabbit hopping across a lawn.

  I felt his hand gripping my wrist and his fingers splaying across the back of my hand. He wanted me to do this. He couldn't do it on his own because he was forbidden by Rory. Still. It didn't make it any easier. In seconds he would no longer exist. The suppleness to his skin would be gone, the glint in his eye, snuffed out.

  I wasn't sure what to expect when I ran the blade across his throat. I didn't expect to feel tears on my cheek or a burst of purple light spilling over me as though it was liquid. It tingled when it touched me. The very human-looking Warren with all of his portly fat and trembling jowls disintegrated into a cloud of prismatic light that hovered there in the middle of the bedroom. I watched it sparkling there for long moments, trying to find Warren's face in the cloud. I should have known better. There wasn't enough of him left from Rory's attack to leave a personality anywhere within the essence.

  I fell back on my haunches, wiping the tears from my cheek with the back of my forearm. The blade clattered to the floor next to me and I waited for what I knew was going to come next. What always came next after I took the life essence of a supernatural creature.

  It was only mere moments before searing pain burned itself into the spot beneath my right armpit. I had time to wonder what shape the tattoo would come in as it branded itself down into my bone through my skin. Then the pain became too great and I dropped onto my side, curling into a ball with my silk-clad knees pressed against my nose. I thought I heard my dress tear as I rocked back and forth in an effort to wait out the pain. I had been there before and I could get through it again. It was the other thing on the other end of that pain that had me nervous.

  Because as far as I was concerned, at that moment, the pain was nothing. Not really, not in comparison to who would come next.

  And come he did. In all of his glory, the mighty Angel of Death. Azrael.

  He wore a white T-shirt this time with faded jeans that had a tear in the knee. Black Dr. Martin boots peeked out from the stuff of the hems. As usual, it wasn't what he wore that made him magnificent. It was the glow that seemed to come from beneath his skin, that prickling sort of energy that rode the current of air. Even his aroma: candy floss and caramel and sunshine on a summer day that brought with it a strange sort of longing that I didn't understand. It was both hunger and thirst. It was desire and terror.

  Yet, he was the absolute last person I wanted to see in that moment.

  "I don't have time for you," I gasped out. The waves of pain were still riding my body and I just wanted to get out of there. I needed to text Callum and catch a ride to the crypt to save Sarah.

  I expected Azrael to turn on me, but he didn't. Instead he waved his hand over the glittering cloud and with each pass it dissipated more and more until it was completely gone. During this whole time, he said nothing to me. He didn't even look at me. I should have been relieved. After all, it was what I wanted. Yet, I couldn't resist talking to him again.

  "I'm sure you have some scathing words for me," I said. After all, I had stolen a fare from him that he wanted very badly.

  He didn't so much as turn around.

  "It's clear you hate me," he said. "Let's just keep this strictly business."

  From behind, I could see him run his hand through his hair. It swept down his back in a long mane and he gathered up into a man bun. So many different faces and shades of this angel, that I never knew what kind of appearance he wanted to pull out.

  "I think I prefer the buzz cut," I said absently.

  This time he did spin to face me. For the first time, I realized he had his cane trapped underneath his arm. I could just make out the head of the grieving angel on the top. Oblivion for the fallen, I finally understood why it was silver cast in the form of a hunched over and weeping angel.

  "I trust you have your brand," he said cooly.

  "I do," I said and touched the spot beneath my arm where it was still burning. Not so bad anymore, more like a bad dry skin razor burn. Uncomfortable, but not agonizing. It always took so much out of me, and I found myself splaying my legs out in front of me as I sat on the floor looking at him as I waited for the last of it to disappear. I knew from experience that it would take me several moments before I would have enough stuffing to even stand, let alone chase after Sarah. I tried to believe she hadn't arrived yet, that there was still time if I hurried. The scooter only went so fast.

  "The necromancer?" he said. "And the druid and the Nephilim? You still have possession of them?"

  That rankled. "I don't have possession of them," I said. "They're my family."

  I noted he left out Nicki altogether. No doubt, he didn't want to be reminded of his failure to collect her up into his cane.

  He shrugged. "I tell myself you keep them close to you in case you need three final fares all of a sudden. You know, contingency planning."

  He grinned at me, showing me perfect teeth in his smile charming enough to make a heart stop and yet all I could think of was the callous way he'd referred to the people I loved.

  "After all, I'm sure oblivion would be preferable for them instead of Hell. You'd be doing them a favor."

  He finished his cold assessment by crossing his arms over his chest, apparently deciding that rippling pectoral muscles might impress me more than his words could.

  Where my family ended up spending their eternity was not on the docket for conversation at the moment. Right now, their living present was all that concerned me.

  "You can think what you like," I said, feeling as though my legs had finally gained some strength. I tested them out by rolling onto my knees and looking up at him. "But I love them. And they love me."

  He sucked the back of his teeth. "Maybe at one time the Nephilim might have come to love you, but right now, he's just attracted to your residual incubus affect. Don't kid yourself about that, Ayla."

  That stunned me. Of course. It explained everything about why Callum was so off, why he'd suddenly found me irresistible. I felt betrayed somehow. Hurt and foolish. Whatever expression rode my features as I chewed over those words and tried to keep my disappointment hidden, he noted it with a cock of his head and stepped closer. His candy floss smell shifted subtly. It wasn't strongly sweet anymore, but rather more of a fresh herb and mown grass smell.

  "I hit the mark, didn't I?" he said. "He's been fawning over you, hasn't he? Unable to resist touching you, looking at you. Despite his best manners, he seems incapable of obeying his own reason? And you've been falling for it."

  My stomach churned. It was true. All of it.

  He fell to a crouch in front of me. Those prismic eyes clouded over for a moment, almost as though he didn't want me to see what was going on behind them.

  "I don't want to see you get hurt, Ayla. He can't give you what you need," he whispered.

  As though he knew what I needed when even I didn't.

  "Your own kind," he said as though he had heard my thoughts. "You need to come home." His hand lifted, seemingly ready to light on my chin but then he dropped it again to his knee. "I don't want to see you hurt."

  But I was hurt. And it was he who had done it.

  "I wish I could say the same thing about you," I spit out, before I could stop it. It wasn't entirely true, but in that moment I wasn't thinking about anything except how much I had wanted Callum's emotions to be real. I should have known better. It didn't matter how close to adulthood I was, Callum would always see me as a child that he couldn't care for beyond friendship. I'd been kidding myself if I thought or hoped otherwise.

  "I want you to leave," I said. "I have to go somewhere and I don't want you in my house while I'm gone."

&nb
sp; I wasn't exactly sure why, it wasn't as though he was going to go through my underwear drawer or anything. But the thought of him lurking around in my personal space without me there to gauge his every reaction to the things he saw unnerved me. I remembered the way he had picked up my mom's picture weeks earlier, and I couldn't stand the thought of any of the things that meant anything to me being run through those fingers and judged.

  I tried to push myself to my feet. I swayed a little before I was able to stand, and was only able because he steadied me by putting a firm grip on my elbow. His warm touch on my bare skin made my throat hurt all the more. I was going to cry. I knew that and I didn't want him to see it.

  I wrenched my elbow out of his grip, but couldn't look in his eye. I didn't want him to see pity there. I wouldn't be able to stand it.

  "I can stand on my own," I said, but I nearly fell against him as though my body wanted to remind me that I most certainly could not. One last gasp from the brand searing into my tissues as though to remind me of its power over me.

  He did nothing but let go a soft, dark chuckle that was anything but condescending. Somehow that made it even worse. I crawled to the door when my legs gave way under the pain.

  He appeared in front of me and I used the wall to pull myself to my feet. I inhaled deeply. Faced him.

  "Might I ask where you're going? No druid here. No necromancer." He lifted his chin to the air as though he were a bloodhound scenting out its quarry. "No demigod, either." He gave me a suspicious look. "What are you up to, Ayla?"

  He was so much taller than me, he had to stoop over to look me full in the face. I noticed he had left a very short stubble on his chin as though it was an accessory to his scuffed jeans. I wondered if he knew how much I liked that look and pushed the thought irritably aside. What he thought about was no concern of mine unless it meant some danger to my family.

  "It's none of your business," I said and pulled in another oxygen-laden breath. I almost felt as though I was hyperventilating and couldn't catch enough air. Every time he was around me, things felt so complicated and confusing. The tingling across my skin was more even more distracting than what I felt with Callum, but it didn't mean it was a good thing. In fact, I found it downright annoying.

  I pushed past him and headed for the hall, relieved to feel my legs feeling much steadier.

  "Wherever you're going, it must be an awfully nice party."

  I froze in the doorway. I remembered I was barefoot and still in the dress I had worn to the Gala. It only made me feel more determined to escape.

  I looked at him over my shoulder.

  "I'm going to throw myself with all my incubus aspect at the nephilim," I said. "And then I'm going to do some ridiculously inappropriate things to him."

  I spun around to see the effect that statement would have on him, but he was already gone.

  CHAPTER 12

  I texted Callum before I pulled on my coat. Azrael had reminded me of a few things that I could use to confront Rory. Namely, he'd reminded me I took on aspects of those creatures I'd reaped once they were gone. I'd almost forgotten it because the last couple of weeks had been so normal I'd nearly felt like a regular girl again. The incubus aspect meant I had an intoxicating allure. That explained Callum's actions and Rory's seeming come on at the gala but it wasn't the aspect I planned to use. No. Not at all. The aspect I needed tonight was the one the doppelganger had given me when I'd first become a Nathelium.

  Glamour.

  Well, that and a messenger bag full of knives; not the least of which was that archaic blade that Warren had brought me. I threw in the bag of rice Sarah had left behind for good measure.

  Sarah had my scooter and I had already wasted too much time with Azrael. I started jogging toward the crypt at a pace that had me breathless in minutes. Callum found me hanging over my knees, dragging in wheezing breaths and struggling not to puke. To say I was relieved to see that little beater GTI pull up alongside me would be an understatement.

  Straightening up made a wash of streetlights blur and then pinprick down to nothing. I swayed on my feet for two or three seconds to let the dizziness of moving to quickly pass. I really had to do something about my cardio when all of this was over.

  "You okay?" he hollered out his window.

  "Peachy," I rasped out and yanked the passenger door open. The car smelled strongly of cologne.

  I slipped in and yanked the door closed.

  "Get moving. The crypts."

  It was about all I could get out between gasping breaths.

  "Nice to see you too, Ayla," he said. He looked like he'd been in bed when I messaged him. There were visible crease lines on his cheek from his pillow. "Care to tell me what's going on? A text that says come over and not much more sort of gets a guy curious." His hand snaked across the cabin and grabbed for mine. I shook it off both because I knew it wasn't real and because I couldn't think about what that meant when Nicki and Sarah were in danger.

  "Not the time," I said, a bit too flatly, but the sting of Azrael's taunt was too raw yet to be kind.

  The overhead light finally blinked out, but not before I noticed a bit of lingering soap froth just behind his ear and it squeezed something in my heart. I'd so wanted it all to be real I'd not questioned it long enough to give credence to my doubts. Now I knew better. If I cared at all, I wouldn't let him act against his real, true nature or feelings. I tried to throw him a smile to soften the blow but he was looking out the windshield as he drove.

  I settled back and laid my hand against my chest, trying to quell the burning in my lungs, telling myself to breathe slowly. Drag one in, let one out.

  "Rory took Nicki," I said when I found I had enough air in my lungs to get more than a couple of words out. "I didn't want to scare you. Sarah has gone to get her back."

  To his credit, he gunned the engine without comment and slipped down a backstreet where he could speed up a bit.

  We were still at least ten minutes from the cathedral. Sarah had at least a ten minute head start. I knew my scooter well, it was a decent mode of transportation, but it wasn't fast. If we were lucky, we would get there fast enough that we could stop her from facing Rory.

  "And what are we going to do when we get there?" he said when he got onto a straight away.

  "We aren't going to do anything," I said to him, watching the blur of houses flicker by. "I'm going to do something."

  "So you need me to muscle him for you while you do it?"

  I stole a peek at him as he shifted. "No," I said. "I need you to muscle Sarah while I take on the bad guy."

  He swung his gaze to mine just long enough to flash me a frown before he aimed his gaze at the road again.

  "And you think I'll just sit by while you do that?" he said.

  I spluttered. "Why wouldn't you?"

  "What kind of man would I be if I let you do that, Ayla?" he said. "Whatever you think of me, I'm not that kind of man."

  I knew he would argue with me over it, and I knew I couldn't risk Sarah or Nicki's welfare by letting him be the hero just because his male ego couldn't take sitting around and doing what he thought would be nothing while the woman went in to the danger zone. I needed him elsewhere.

  "It's too dangerous," I said.

  "Exactly my point."

  I pushed my back against the passenger door so that I could face him. He was driving fast enough that he couldn't look at me for a long, but when he did his face was filled with foreboding. I realized it was about more than just his ego. He was worried. About everyone. Just like me.

  "Dangerous for Sarah, I mean. And for Nicki. I need to know you can get them out of harm's way."

  I took the chance and reached out to touch his arm as he shifted again. A tremor slipped over his face when I did that. Maybe I shouldn't have used the incubus card. It wasn't fair.

  "Don't," he said. "It's hard enough."

  I gulped. It wasn't fair to use his reaction to me in the too close, too small car cabin to get my wa
y. He had no idea he was under the influence of my incubus affect and I imagined he was struggling to maintain his true feelings for me much the same as I had done in the face of the real incubus. It was a drunken, almost drugged haze that the creatures enveloped around you, and although I doubted I had that kind of quality in my aspect, I no doubt made it difficult for him to remember what he believed about me: that I was still a kid and that I was still too naive to understand my feelings for him.

  None of that was important now. The only thing that mattered was Sarah and Nicki.

  "I need you, Callum," I said. "I need you in the most important place. Getting them out of there."

  "What about you?" he said, flicking his gaze toward me and then back to the front again as a cat raced across the street and caught the light of his headlamps.

  I shrugged. "I have a plan. A good one."

  "How good can it be?" he said. "You're not ready, Ayla. You don't know nearly enough to take on a... what did you call him? A fairy mancer?"

  "Fae mancer," I said, although I wasn't sure there was a difference. "And I don't have to fight him; I just have to distract him." I smiled to myself at the genius of it. "I'm going to become Sarah."

  He looked at me sideways over his arms as he took a sharp corner. "Become Sarah?" he said. "What does that mean?"

  "From the doppelgänger," I said. "I gained its ability to change the way I look. In fact, every time I reap something, I get some aspect of it."

  I stole a look at him from the corner of my eye, wondering what he would think of that.

  He nodded but said nothing.

  "That bothers you," I said, gauging his silence as discomfort.

  He shrugged. "It freaks me out," he said. "But I can deal with that later. What I want to know right now is what you're gonna do after that? It's not much of a plan."

  He shifted hard as he slowed down for a stop sign and waited there for a long moment as he stared at me from across the car cabin. The street light shining inside caught him in profile, shadowing the edges of his cheek. I wanted him to trust me.

  I hadn't thought that far, really. But I didn't want to admit that to him. The farthest I got in my plan was pretending to be her while Callum grabbed Sarah and Nicki and got the heck out of there. I just assumed everything else would fall into place.