“Consider this a break-up,” Zenon said.
Surrounded by sounds of celebration, Alazne felt at home for the first time in way too long.
A long table covered with colorful plates of food from every region of the galaxy stretched down the middle of the banquet hall of Adamar Castle. Candlelight augmented by bright electric lights cast shadows of dancers upon stone walls. Guffawing laughter filled the air.
“Congratulations on your engagement,” a voice sounded from behind her and Alazne turned to see beautiful blue wings spread wide, Joan hovering under their support.
Xia stood beside the winged beauty, along with Keia and even Heather.
Alazne had heard they were all doing well and that they moved to Adamar upon the announcement that Alazne and Zenon were getting engaged.
“Thank you for coming,” she exclaimed as happiness overcame her, smile wide, heart full.
“We would not miss it,” Joan said, blue wings flapping occasionally.
Keia pulled her into a bear hug. “Where’s Zenon?”
“Oh, he’s right here, enjoying himself,” Alazne said, turning towards the table, all the witches’ eyes tracking to his sitting spot.
Zenon sat, a plate of food piled high before him, woodland creature plucking choice morsels from the pile.
“I’m so glad I sent you on that quest to find your Lifemate,” the squirrel said between bites.
“Yes,” Zenon smirked. “My mother, the matchmaker.”
Laughter and celebration echoed throughout the day and into the evening. Heart bursting with joy, eyes beaming, Alazne never dreamed of a more perfect happily ever after.
The End
About the Author
Kyndra Hatch is a two-time USA Today bestselling author of paranormal, science fiction and fantasy romance. She grew up with a fascination for science fiction and a deep interest in ancient civilizations, a combination which fuels her active imagination. After twelve exciting years as an archaeologist, Kyndra pursues a passion for writing and has discovered her works have a decidedly science fiction romantic flair, a dash of fantasy and paranormal romance mixed in.
Kyndra also writes science fiction, horror, and dark humor short stories as L.K. Hatchett.
Follow Kyndra Hatch on Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/Kyndra-Hatch/e/B01210BWL2
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Rise of the Reapers
An Intern Diaries Novella
By D. C. Gomez
Chapter 1
Present day- Texarkana TX
It was a warm winter, even for East Texas. The trees were bare but winter refused to make its appearance. The Christmas decorations looked out of place next to the kids in shorts. The city of Texarkana, Texas had a twin city on the Arkansas side. In both cities, the people acted differently this winter than previous ones. It wasn’t the weather affecting the residents; Constantine could feel the unrest in the air. After five-thousand years living around humans, the feline was very in tune with their mannerisms and traits.
When the cities of Texarkana became the official haven for all supernatural beings in North America, the population in the cities doubled. The increased number of supernatural beings was slowly changing the dynamics of the cities. The human mind was incredible. It refused to process anything that it didn’t understand. While the eyes registered the strange beings, the brain ignored it or blocked it. It was the only way the gnomes, pixies, fairies, shapeshifters, and all the other creatures were going unnoticed in the cities.
The Chamber of Commerce for the cities described the phenomenon as an economic boom. Businesses were moving into town and new residents were coming at an incredible rate. The cities were both expanding, which was a celebration for both communities. Unfortunately, the new residents brought with them their own set of problems that only Death’s team could handle. It was due to Death’s North American Intern, Isis Black, claiming Texarkana as her home that made the cities Haven. Policing the supernatural community was another duty that fell on their lists of things to do.
“At this rate, we will still be wearing shorts at Christmas,” Bob told Constantine as he stared out the window of his baby blue truck.
“I’m sure the kids won’t mind.” Constantine licked his paw and looked out the passenger window towards Whataburger’s parking lot.
“That’s just wrong.” Bob shifted in his seat and carefully adjusted the gun in his pants holster.
“Why do you care? You hate Christmas. Last time I checked, you despise the cold and the snow.” Constantine eyed Bob before returning to washing his face with his paw.
Constantine’s cleaning habits were the only normal cat things Constantine ever did. He was an Egyptian cat who served as the guardian of the interns and Death’s representative in the moral world.
“It’s about the principle of the matter,” Bob answered, not making eye contact with his boss.
“Of course. Principles,” Constantine replied rolling his eyes. “Let’s make sure those principles don’t get you killed.”
A smirk spread across Bob’s face as he ran his hand through his short blond hair.
“Do you think they would come?” Bob asked after a few minutes of silence.
Constantine took a few deep breaths. His fur radiated with a soft glow as he scanned the area like a true predator.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Constantine answered. “Where else are they going to find this concentration of kids on a Friday night? It’s not like we are in Dallas, or even a large metropolis.”
“Great.” Bob shook his head. “We don’t need another werewolf gang in town?”
“Does anybody need a werewolf gang recruiting in their town?” Constantine snapped his head back. “Shorty is coming.”
From his side mirror, Bob saw Shorty marching towards the truck. Like his name implied, Shorty was barely five-feet-four inches tall and maybe one-hundred and twenty pounds fully clothes. Shorty was hired by Constantine earlier in the year for his great network of connections in the town. A once-homeless man like Bob, Shorty now ran the most organized underground network of informants in the four-state regions.
“Big Bob. Boss man.” Shorty handed Bob a large strawberry milkshake.
“Anything out of the ordinary?” Bob asked as he poured the milkshake into a small ceramic bowl and placed it in front of Constantine.
“It’s Friday night on New Boston Road, so everything is out of the ordinary.” Shorty pointed across the street towards the auto parts store. “We found three kids high on pixie dust twenty minutes ago. The Triplets rushed them to the station. When I find that dealer, I’m going to choke him.”
“Welcome to Haven,” Constantine told both men in between licks of his milkshake. “Keep us posted.”
“Will do.” Shorty saluted Constantine and made his way across the street.
“Havens are a blessing and a curse,” Constantine mumbled. “Everyone is always welcome. A blessing for everyone who is persecuted. Unfortunately, you always have those who take advantage of any opportunity. If we don’t take full control of the situation, Texarkana could easily become a living hell.”
Bob froze, holding his cup midair. “Hell? How?”
“With all the magic here, the death toll will quadruple.” Constantine’s gaze was distant. “Death will be busy escorting souls to their final destinations from this town at an astronomical rate.”
“How do we stop that from happening?” Bob lowered his cup, unable to take another sip.
“Simple, they have to fear us more than the opportunities to make money or gain power.” Constantine gave Bob a wicked grin, making his sharp canines shine in the night.
“I hope Isis is ready.” Bob leaned his head against his window and looked down at his boss.
“Trust me, give her two months of moderating supernatural domestic disputes and she will be ready.” Constantine giggled. “That girl has a temper. You push her hard enough, and the goblins, trolls, and ghouls would be terrified of her.”
“I hope you are right, boss,” Bob replied, rubbing his eyes. “We might as well get comfortable. Looks like this could be a long night.”
Constantine took his favorite Sphinx pose and watched the parking lot from his window. After a few minutes, he said, “Have I told you the story of how the Reapers were created?”
“I don’t think so.” Bob sat up in his seat and gave Constantine his undivided attention.
“This is a long one, but we do have plenty of time,” Constantine said, starting his story. “We are not proud of this part of our history, but it happened. The year was four hundred and seventy five AD, before the fall of the Roman Empire.”
Chapter 2
475 AD- Rome, Italy
The narrow alley was dark, and the stench of human feces assaulted Constantine straight on. The Romans claimed the Western Empire was the crown glory of the world, but Constantine usually disagreed. He never remembered ancient Egypt smelling this bad. The Roman Empire was in a state of turmoil, mainly because the young Emperor Romulus Augustus struggled to keep control of the empire while the wealthy were too busy enjoying their riches.
“This way Sergius. We don’t have a lot of time.” Constantine hurried down the alley towards a dark lump on the ground.
“Why do we always have to wander the city at night?” Sergius pulled on his toga and rushed quickly behind Constantine.
“Do you want to lose another soul?” Constantine muttered, stopping in front of the hump. “This one is fresh.”
“Of course I don’t, but some of us don’t have your eyesight,” Sergius replied, a little out of breath.
Sergius leaned down and turned the dismantled body around. The corpse had well-defined muscles, but the left side of his face and neck were gashed open. Constantine moved to the opposite side of the body and sniffed the corpse’s clothing. Very little blood was found around the body despite the large wound on the neck.
Sergius leaned back on the balls of his feet, playing with his curly brown hair. On normal days, Sergius looked younger than his eighteen years, a great asset to help him fool the authorities and escape some very indiscreet situations. This evening, though, he looked aged and worried.
“Nothing. The soul is gone and I can't feel its presence anywhere around here.” Sergius scanned the alley. “How is that possible? This man is still warm.”
“Quiet.” Constantine spun to face the entrance of the alley. “Hurry, someone is coming.”
Sergius squinted, his eyes following the direction Constantine had been looking. Constantine jumped over the body and dragged Sergius by his tunic. They barely made it to the far corner when two large men walked toward the corpse. Sergius held his breath and Constantine stood ready to pounce.
“We need to assign this job to the new recruits,” the taller of the two men said in a hushed voice.
“I wish,” his companion replied, looking up and down the alley. “Last time that happened, those halfwits ate the body. Who eats flesh?”
The first man made a retching sound. “These new recruits leave a lot to be desire.”
“Tell me about it. Grab the body; we have a lot to do. This day is not over.” The second man headed out of the alley without waiting for a reply.
His companion picked up the body with one hand and tossed it over his shoulder in one smooth motion. He left the alley at a leisurely pace, like a man without a care in the world.
“Constantine, what in Christ’s name is going on here?” Sergius moved slowly to the center of the alley. “There is no way they were able to see him from over there.”
“Even If their vision wasn’t extraordinary, they didn’t need to see him. They knew exactly where to find him.” Constantine moved, stopping next to Sergius. “This just confirms we have bigger problems than those two.”
“We have bigger problems than men with superhuman strength that can see in the dark?” Sergius asked, his tone sarcastic as he paced circles around the location of their missing victim.
“If they were the only ones, I wouldn’t care, but by the sound of their conversation, there are many more.” Constantine smelled the ground, his ears twitch.
“What exactly do we have more of?” Sergius kneeled next to Constantine.
“Vampires,” Constantine hissed the word. “A large concentration of them by the sound of their conversation.”
“In Rome? That’s impossible. We have an agreement.” Sergius ran his hands over his hair, making it stand up in straight. Sergius took a deep breath before speaking, but the veins on his forehead were pulsating. “What are we going to do?”
“We have to call Death.” Constantine stood on all fours and shook himself.
“I thought we were never supposed to call Death?” Sergius’ voice cracked and sweat beads ran down his forehead.
“We? That sounds like too many people,” Constantine replied, wiping his face with his paw. “You are not supposed to call Death. I can call whenever I want to. We need to leave before someone else comes to investigate.”
Sergius followed Constantine out of the alley, looking over his shoulder. He adjusted his toga several times and picked up speed as soon as they cleared the alley.
***-***
Constantine and Sergius lived in a modest brick cottage by the Tiber River. The cottage was comfortable and secure but not so extravagant it would draw attention. Being employed by Death had provided Sergius with an increase in wealth, something he was still trying to get used to since he’d been a poor farmer boy from the countryside. Constantine had advised not sharing his new occupation or income with anyone. The Roman Empire was in a transition of faith and accidentally informing one of the zealots could land them both in a dungeon.
While the cottage had very few neighbors, both Sergius and Constantine made it a point to avoid attention. They entered their residence through the back to avoid potential onlookers of their constant travels. As they entered the house, Sergius stopped short at the doorway. In the living room, he found a couple of candles lit.
“What are you doing?” Constantine asked after slamming into the back of Sergius legs.
“Somebody is here,” Sergius whispered.
“Of course somebody is here. I told you I was calling Death.” Constantine rolled his eyes and walked around Sergius towards the living room.
On the far side of the room, standing by a window stood Death. His muscular frame made him look dignified. He was wearing a Shendyt, an Egyptian male pleated skirt. His dark hair was combed back, making it sparkle when the light hit it.
“Well I see someone was home recently,” Constantine told Death as he entered the room. “For a being who swore never to go back, you do spend a lot of time in that part of the world.”
“People die everywhere, remember.” Death never turned around to address Constantine. “What is so important that you dragged me here at this hour?”
“Your favorite pests of the realm are back.” Constantine hopped on the small table in the center of the room and proceeded to clean the underside of his leg.
“Are you sure?” Death asked.
“We found eight dead bodies in the last three days but not a single soul,” Constantine answered, not bothering to look up at his boss.
“Did any of the bodies have anything in common?” Death paced the room, staring at the floor.
“Nothing,” Sergius answered from the door way.
“Oh, thank you for deciding to joined the party.” Constantine signaled to Sergius with his paw. “Would you care to come in or are you planning to hold that door up all night?”
“Sorry,” Sergius mumbled.
“Death, you remember our little apprentice Sergius?” Constantine asked in an overly dramatic tone, pointing at Sergius.
“Don�
�t be ridiculous. I know Sergius.” Death shook his head and stopped pacing.
“Just making sure, since you come around so rarely. I figured introductions were in order.” Constantine blinked fast and a mocking smile spread across his lips.
“Thank you for the reminder, but can we get back to your vampire theory.” Death sat on one of the chairs and pointed to the empty one next to him. Sergius quickly took the seat.
“The rumors started at the capital after sightings of mysterious bodies that appeared and were gone by the time the legionnaires showed up.” Sergius delivered his speech without breathing. “The strangest part was nobody came forth to report anyone missing. The witnesses swore the bodies they saw were dead but there is no proof.”
“Tonight we saw two bloodsuckers collecting one of the bodies.” Constantine cleaned his face as he spoke. “Have you heard anything in your travels?”
“Nothing.” Death was rigid, his only movement coming from his index finger causally tapping his leg. “It seems like you two have work to do. We had an agreement and I want to know if the vampires have broken it. If they are taking humans without their consent, they will meet their end in the underworld.”
“Yes, Death.” Sergius bounced to his feet and saluted Death.
“I like him,” Death told Constantine. “You could learn a few lessons from him.”
“Not in this lifetime.” Constantine hissed and rolled over, pointing his butt towards Death.
“Enough games Constantine. Get to work.” Death snapped his fingers and disappeared.
“Wow, impressive,” Sergius squealed.
“He is Death. Dramatic is part of his persona.” Constantine rolled back to his side and sat up. “Unfortunately, he seems to be getting a little more arrogant with age. I hope that doesn’t come back to get us.”
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