Reap & Reveal (The Reaper Series Book 3)

by Lisa Medley

  Nate’s heartbeat quickened. A few more steps and she would be there. His mother. How many times through the years had he walked past this very house, not knowing who was inside? Hundreds. His chest ached.

  Climbing the wooden stairs to the tidy front porch, Rosemary reached for the cast iron doorknocker. The gentle tapping on the solid cedar and pine wood front door filled Nate’s chest with a slow burn of unease.

  He heard the latch click open and then a wiry but elderly woman emerged in the doorway, her eyes crinkling at the corners with her smile.

  “Rosemary, so glad to see—” She stopped when she looked past Rosemary and took in the sight of the crowd gathered on her porch. “Oh.”

  “Fiona, we’ve come to see her.”

  Fiona looked past Rosemary to Nate, who recognized her as the coven’s librarian. While Nate hadn’t been a frequent visitor to the library, he’d always known her to be kind and patient, even with the rowdier kids.

  “Oh, dear. Are you sure?”

  “Yes. It’s time.”

  Sadness crossed her face and she backed away from the doorway. “Very well then. Come on in.” They walked into the cozy living area. “There won’t be room for all of you at once, of course.”

  “I’ll go in with Nate for now.” Rosemary reached back for his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to give it to her. She nodded and led him down a narrow hallway toward the back of the house. Garrett and Maeve stayed in the living room with Fiona.

  Sunlight streamed through high, stained glass transom windows as they passed a small bedroom, an office and a personal library. They stopped at the back of the house before an open archway leading to a converted sunroom. Windows lined the southern wall of the room and the remaining three walls were painted a painfully cheerful color of purple. To the left of the doorway was a queen-sized bed that filled most of the narrow, rectangular room. Lying upon it was a woman.

  Rosemary crossed the room and stood in the narrow space between the edge of the bed and the wall of windows. Nate remained in the doorway, reluctant to make the last three steps to her side.

  “Nate, meet your birth mother, Elaina Carter.”

  Nate’s world imploded. Ruth’s birth mother was named Elaina Carter. His mind raced as he tried to make sense of the new knowledge that overtook him. A hard lump formed in his throat and he was reduced to his five year-old self, cold, afraid and alone in a cemetery in the middle of the night. For the first time he remembered the details of the headstone he’d landed against when he flashed there twenty-two years ago. The stone had read Elaina Carter.

  Yet here she was. Elaina Carter. Alive if not well.

  No, not well at all.

  And Ruth was his sister.

  As the pieces rearranged, one last puzzle piece clicked into place. If his father was an angel, and he and Ruth were indeed nephilim, then there was only one fallen angel they held in common.

  Camael. Could it be? But his mind couldn’t wrap itself around that, couldn’t even process the truth about Ruth while he stood here in the same room as his birth mother.

  He closed the space between them and looked down at Elaina in wonder. The first thing he noticed was her lack of an aura. Her long, dark hair fanned out beneath her head and she reminded him of Sleeping Beauty. Her hands were folded across her stomach on top of the quilted blanket covering her.

  Even through her thinness, the sickly paleness of her lips and the translucent quality of her skin—every vein and artery seemingly apparent in her visible flesh—he could still see evidence of the beauty she’d been. Almost as beautiful as Maeve. But her thin arms now consisted of mostly bone, and her clavicles protruded through her thin gown just above the edge of the blanket. Even beneath the coverings, it was clear her hipbones projected through the quilt in two pronounced points, leaving him with little doubt about how skeletal the rest of her body was.

  “We’ve tried a variety of treatments through the years, from feeding tubes to black magic, but nothing has helped. We’ve tried to keep her comfortable, nourish her body as well as we can, but she continues to deteriorate, albeit slowly. She’s never spoken since we found her moments after you were born.”

  “Where was she?”

  “In a cemetery a few minutes from the coven. In a town called Bolton. We had no idea how she got there or why she was there, but you and your sister were wrapped in the same T-shirt. You were still in her arms when I found you.”

  “Why were you in the cemetery?”

  “I was on my way home for the summer solstice celebration. The cemetery is on a hill, visible from the main highway, but about a half mile off the road. I sensed a great discharge of magic from that direction as I drove by, and I couldn’t ignore it. When I went to investigate, I found the three of you, and…”

  “What?”

  “Another body. A man. He was decapitated. I left him there.”

  “And you didn’t call an ambulance? Or the police?”

  “Nate, it wasn’t the first time we had seen her. She came to us alone a few days earlier for help, drawn in by the power of our magic, I’m sure. She told us an impossible story about who and what was pursuing her. She was almost nine months pregnant. Of course, we were going to help her. And from the things she told us, we were the only ones who could. She stayed with me and Garrett at the healing center so I could help her with her pregnancy. How or why she left the coven that night and ended up in that cemetery, we still don’t know. But if I hadn’t been driving by…”

  Nate leaned across the woman and gently lifted her top eyelid with his thumb to examine her. Silver-gray eyes stared back at him, unseeing.

  She was soulless, all right.

  Taking her hand in his, he forced a shot of Reiki light into her. Her long-starved body latched onto the offered nourishment, but he watched as it leaked back out through her damaged chakras as it passed through her. He placed his fingers along the pulse in her neck and waited. And waited. And waited. Nearly three minutes later, he felt one labored throb of her heart. Another three minutes passed before he counted another beat.

  No doctor would have waited so long before pronouncing her deceased.

  This is what a true and complete reaper coma looked like: defenseless, depleted and as good as dead.

  “Can you tell? Is she—like Maeve? Like, you? A reaper?”

  “Yes.”

  Rosemary was silent for several long moments as Nate considered the possibilities. He had an idea about why she might have been in that cemetery. Elaina was obviously a reaper, so she had probably been trying to access the consecrated subway. He knew from his experience with Ruth that using that means of transportation was a last resort for a pregnant reaper.

  So what had forced her to take the chance?

  “Did you know my father, too?”

  Rosemary shook her head adamantly. “No. She only told us that he was an angel. Of course, we didn’t believe her at first, but she was so sincere and so afraid that we eventually accepted it. Someone or something was after her, and she was terrified.”

  “My father?”

  “No, but she was hiding from him, as well. She said that if he knew where she was, he’d be in danger, too. We hid her with magic…until she left the coven. Then we couldn’t protect her any longer.”

  “Then who was after her?”

  “Supernatural bounty hunters. She said they were after her unborn children.”

  “My father, did she tell you his name?”

  “She wouldn’t. She said he could be invoked if we knew his name, and she never wanted that to happen. She feared for us as well, but we assured her that we could protect her from anything supernatural. And we have.”

  Nephilim.

  Rashnu had been trying to tell him. Hell, the entire universe had been trying to tell him. He just hadn’t wanted to believe it. He and Ruth were some sort of bastardized version of the nephilim. And Camael was their father.

  “But she had a grave?”

  “Yes. We
did that. She had been trying to live a normal life. She had a home and everything until something scared her away. We sold her property and ‘buried’ her in Bolton, hoping it would put an end to things.”

  And now what?

  He’d found his mother, but his sister? And his father? It was too much to process. Impossible. Still, the sick feeling in his gut prodded him with the truth, even though he couldn’t let his mind take that trip yet.

  For now, Elaina was as safe as was possible, but how much longer would she hang on in this state of suspended animation? He shuddered to think that he’d been willing to allow Maeve to persist in this same indefinite state. Of course, he had known all along where Maeve’s soul was. Where was Elaina’s? If she’d been reaped, then her soul would have been sorted and sent to its Heavenly rest. Yes?

  But could her soul even be processed if her body still lived?

  Was she something beyond a wanderer?

  He had no idea where her soul might be. Deacon could search for her in the realms. Heaven would be easy, but Hell? Deacon had gotten his fill of Hell. They all had. There was one angel who would know unequivocally if she’d been sorted.

  Rashnu.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Nate and Maeve landed at the Authority compound just before full dark. He’d wanted to take his biological mother with him, but she was being cared for as well as possible under the circumstances. His parents and the rest of the coven protected her this long. The only way he could help her now was to find her soul, and even then it was likely long too late.

  How long could a soul exist on its own, without a body and without being sorted? Forever? Deacon had once referred to such souls as sleepers. Lost on Earth, untethered and unclaimed. There were a few special reapers who actively searched for such souls, but it was like finding a needle in a haystack. Deacon had happened upon just two in his two centuries of life. What happened to the souls that were never recovered?

  Deacon had also explained that the souls in Heaven received new bodies and ascended through the various levels of the realm over time. Kara had ascended to the fourth Heaven in the hundred years since her passing. In Hell, there was no need for a new body. Depending on the level to which they descended, the souls might be reissued their bodies, often just so their previous forms could be perpetually ground away in the Sea of the Dead. A torturous game of a bored Lucifer.

  Nate had witnessed it firsthand from the viewing platform on the ground level of Hell’s Palace when he’d helped rescue Deacon. The thought of his mother’s soul being tossed into that pit filled him with a rage that pushed him beyond rational thought.

  Maeve squeezed his hand. “Hey. We’ll find her soul.”

  Nate was still trying to piece together the ridiculous scenario that was his life. At least now he knew which side his reaper genes came from and why he was so supernaturally fucked up. He’d felt like a freak all of his life for good reason.

  He was one.

  They stood outside the communal area door, Nate desperate to get his shit together and trying to decide how much he was willing to share with the Authority. The right answer, of course, was everything because how could they help if they didn’t have as much information as he did. His instinct, however, was to clam up and continue with his Lone Ranger tactics.

  And Maeve? He didn’t know what the hell was going to happen with Maeve. She seemed solid. A blessing, when at the moment, he was anything but.

  He felt like he was digging a hole in the sand that was his past. The deeper he scooped for answers, the more sand slithered down the edges to fill his hole back up.

  “You ready?” Maeve asked.

  “No.”

  “Me either. Let’s do this.”

  He twisted the door handle a half-turn to the right and was immediately tackled to the floor by two-hundred-and-fifty pounds of muscle, fur and drool. Bo licked his face and neck so enthusiastically, Nate felt like a layer of his skin was being sloughed off with the beast’s abrasive tongue.

  “Okay, already. I missed you, too. Jesus, Bo. Off.”

  Bo backed to the side and sat by the wall, wagging his tail so aggressively against the sheetrock that an indentation appeared.

  “Bo, heel.”

  The dog returned to his side a bit less aggressively and sat, leaning into his hip and shoulder.

  “Now that was a greeting.” Maeve didn’t even try to hide the smirk on her face.

  “Nate! Maeve!” Ruth yelled from the living area.

  Nate sighed, his heart heavy as he crossed the room. Apparently Ruth and Temperance were the only ones in the compound right now. He made his way to the couch, searching Ruth’s face as he approached, comparing it to his memory of Elaina. Any further proof he might have needed was right here before him. Certain of his own features were there in Ruth’s face, a fact that was heartbreakingly clear to him with his new perspective and knowledge. Why hadn’t he seen it before?

  Anticipation nearly bested him as he seated himself beside her. Putting what he’d learned into words seemed an impossible task. Having Ruth as his sister was a gift he’d never expected. Having Camael as their father was a curse he didn’t know if he—or she—could endure.

  Temperance stood watch nearby, her back pressed against the wall behind Ruth. Her wings arched upward a few inches behind her back, a sign that she sensed his uncertainty. He tried to calm his drumming heart as he wondered over the machinations of fate that had brought him and his sister together in this way.

  “Ruth, how are you feeling?” Nate took her hand in his and searched her face.

  “Forget about me. I’m old news. How are you, Maeve? You look amazing!” Ruth all but bounced off the couch.

  Maeve stuffed her hands into the front pockets of her jeans and rocked back onto her heels. “Better.”

  “Like a hundred percent better? Do you remember everything? Olivia said you were having trouble with that when you left.”

  “Maybe ninety-five percent better.” She shot a quick look at Nate.

  “Ooookay. Well, Nate, just so you know, Deacon was pretty dang hot about you leaving and not taking your phone. I think I’ve calmed him down, but be warned. He may not greet you as warmly as Bo did.” Ruth laughed.

  “Where are all of the others? Have they gone out already?”

  “More like haven’t come home. They’ve been working ridiculous hours since you left. Camael is still underground. They haven’t encountered him in the field since you rescued Maeve. We don’t know if he’s injured or just reconnoitering. Either way, the reapers have been decimating the demon population. With you and Maeve back in the game, you might have them all by the end of the week!”

  “I can’t hunt demons right now, Ruth. I have something more important to do.”

  “What could possibly be more important than saving mankind from demons?”

  “Saving my biological mother.”

  Ruth’s eyes went wide and large. “Your mother? What happened while you were gone?”

  Nate relayed the entire story to her as it had been revealed to him while Maeve stood beside him. Ruth listened in quiet awe, barely containing her questions until he finally stopped talking.

  “She’s a reaper? And your father was an angel? And she’s alive!”

  “Alive is a generous assessment.”

  “This is amazing! Oh, Nate! We’re both so close to knowing where we come from. Deacon tracked down a lead for me, too, this week. You know, the one thing I remembered from the adoption binder was my birth mother’s name. I’ve traced hundreds of leads by phone and online over the past few weeks, but one was very close!”

  “How close?”

  “Less than an hour away. In a little town called Bolton. I’m still not sure if she’s the right one, but the timing is perfect.”

  Nate’s mouth went dry and every ounce of his blood drained from his head.

  “Ruth, there’s one more thing…”

  “What, Nate? What’s wrong? You look ill.” Ruth p
ressed her hand to his forehead.

  “My mother’s name. I know it.”

  “Yes? What is it? Maybe I can find out more about her, too.”

  “You already have. Her name is Elaina Carter.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Camael stood before the headstone. It had been years since he’d even allowed himself to think of this place, let alone return. Humans liked to pay their respects to the dead, but there was no body in this grave. Only the marker. And the knowledge that this was the last place that he’d seen his beloved.

  Everything had happened so fast that night; he’d only reacted. He’d known with sickening certainty that he wouldn’t be able to save them all. As it turned out, he hadn’t been able to save any of them. For one fleeting moment they were a family, and the next…nothing.

  Why was he even here now?

  Because somewhere inside him was the slightest weakness that needed to be squashed once and for all. He wanted to remind himself of why he needed his revenge. Of how ruthlessly the bounty hunters who had been sent by Heaven destroyed his family.

  The hunters had chased Elaina through the consecrated subway like she was prey. Then after she’d gone into premature labor and gave birth to the twins, her body had failed…which was when the hunters tracked her down. After he’d found her and the reaper bounty hunters, he’d unleashed his full angel fury upon them, killing one by tearing his head from his shoulders with his bare hands. The other had managed to escape, vanishing back into the consecrated subway like the cowardly vermin he was.

  After Camael had beheaded the reaper, Elaina’s soul had streamed out of the reaper’s shell and hovered over her fallen body. He’d appropriated an urn from the nearby crypt and captured it. After wrapping both of the bloody and squirming infants in his shirt, he’d clutched the urn and scooped them and Elaina’s body into his arms before trying to flash to a safer location. He’d landed alone and empty-handed, save for the urn. By the time he’d returned, just moments later, Elaina’s body and the infants were already gone.