by Hickory Mack
Copyright © 2021 by Hickory Mack
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical
Means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written
Permissions from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
**Any references to historical events, real people or real places are used fictitiously. Names,
Characters and places are products of the author’s imagination.
Cover images by Manuela Serra Book Cover Designs
Editing by Michelle Motyczka
Formatting by Mallory Kent of The Nutty Formatter
Contents
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Elsie returns
Acknowledgments
Reaper Character Index
About the Author
Also by Hickory Mack
For a little black kitty named Gengar.
He followed us home while we were on a hike and became a member of our family.
Frida wouldn’t be the same without him.
Foreword
This book is the first of a companion series that takes place in the same world as the Taming the Elements series. While Reaper is meant to be read after Witchling, and doing so will enhance your reading experience, it can be read on it’s own as well!
I hope you enjoy Elsie’s story as much as I have.
Prologue
Elsie walked through the dimensional door she’d created and stepped on Earth’s soil for the first time since her mother had returned for her. She slid out of the way so her mother, the Goddess of Death, could follow. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, reveling in the heavy, earthy scent of fresh rain.
An unfamiliar ache centered itself in her chest, right above the chakra point. Elsie rubbed it with a pained expression. She was the daughter of a goddess and a fae king. Physical pain wasn’t something she was accustomed to these days.
“What is it?” Santisima asked, watching Elsie neatly close up the tear between dimensions so nothing would leak through to either side. Elsie looked up at her mother and grimaced. She knew exactly what was causing the pain.
“It’s my mating bond,” Elsie complained. “I thought it was broken, but after all this time, it’s still there.”
The goddess gave her a gentle smile. “It means that neither of you have given up on the other. You should think about what that means for your future. The hunters have no sway over you now. You can go to him if that’s what you want.”
Elsie looked into the woods, her pale eyes haunted. “It’s been six years since we last saw each other. He probably hates me.”
“I seriously doubt that’s true.” Santisima rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s been six years for us, on Molta, but it’s only been one for him. He hasn’t had as much time to move on as you have. If you give him the chance, your mate may forgive you.”
Elsie looked at the ground, biting the inside of her lip. Saint might forgive her, but she’d never forgive herself. She still hated herself for what she’d done. She’d been cruel to him when she sent him away, forcing him to leave by threatening both their lives if he refused. Her closest friend, the only person she’d trusted with her life, her lover. Although six years had passed on her end, she’d continued to miss him every single day.
“How could I face him now?” She shook her head. “He deserves better. Someone who will fight for him.”
A mating bond was a rare and wonderful thing, for those who wanted them. The bond didn’t exist in some species at all, but for witches, it was a lot more common. It brought together magical pairs based on compatibility, and how likely they were to love one another.
They weren’t meant to be broken, but they could be, if either or both were against the pairing. The bond wouldn’t thrive and would eventually die. It’s death was physically painful, and would leave a mental scar for the remainder of the pair’s lives, a forever reminder of what they’d given up. There was another way. The way Elsie had taken. It was abrupt and brutal and fast, a full rejection of a mate.
She’d failed. As hard as she’d pushed Saint away, their bond hadn’t been entirely erased. A small part of it stubbornly held on, trying to pull them back together again.
Santisima didn’t comment, but when Elsie looked up at her, she saw the condemnation in her eyes. Her mother never approved of negative self-talk, and Elsie had 27 years of the habit under her belt. Santisima had spent a lot of time trying to push the habit out of her youngest and final daughter. The last reaper.
“You must not let fear of scenarios created in your imagination stop you from finding happiness,” the goddess said after a long moment’s pause. “If you do, the future you deserve will be lost. Take my advice, mija. Think about the good that could come of it instead of the negative.”
“I’ll try,” Elsie said, though she wasn’t sounding particularly confident.
Santisima looked at their surroundings for a time, then turned back to her daughter. “Where will you go from here? Now that your training is finished, you can go anywhere and do anything you wish. There is nothing on this or any planet that can hold you back.”
Elsie knew that most of her sisters had taken many years to wander the universe when they’d finished their training, and the majority of them had never stopped their travels. They went where the wind took them, punishing the souls most deserving of their attention. There were hundreds of reapers, but they were so spread out, they were a rare sight, on Earth or anywhere else.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Elsie said. Part of her wanted to go into hibernation until the pain in her chest faded and she could breathe properly. Another part wanted to travel, while yet another wanted her to find Saint and reclaim him as her own. All of those desires were at war with each other inside of her head.
“There’s no need to rush the decision,” her mother assured, petting her hair before opening her arms. Elsie stepped into Santisima’s embrace, resting her head on a soft shoulder.
“Where will you go?” she asked, knowing this was goodbye. There was no way of guessing when she’d see her mother again. The Goddess of Death was even more transient than her daughters. Santisima kissed the top of her head, continuing to pet her.
“One of your sisters is in need of guidance.
Her heart is in a dark place, and I’m afraid that if no one steps in, she will be lost. I will go to her and help her through this time in her life. From there, who knows?” She smiled. “You know how to contact me if you need me. Even if you don’t feel it, I’ll always be keeping an eye out for you.”
“I know you will.” Elsie squeezed her mother before she let go. She’d spent so many years of her life living among the hunters, and her mother had known everything she’d been through.
“I have a gift for you,” Santisima said with a smile. Holding her hand out, a scythe materialized, the same scythe the goddess had used for the past several centuries. The weapon had become an iconic piece of the goddess’ mythology. Elsie’s eyes widened as she took a step back, shaking her head in denial.
“Mother, I can’t accept this,” she nearly stuttered. Santisima ran her hand fondly over the scythe’s staff, then pushed it into her daughter’s hands.
“This is not an ordinary scythe,” the goddess said. “Its name is the Staff of Sanaia, and it once belonged to the first elemental witch, an elf who possessed all seven elemental magics. This was her staff, her magical conduit, and her weapon. It can take the form of any weapon you wish; the only limitation is your imagination.”
Elsie held it reverently. It was so much heavier than she’d expected. “But why me?” she questioned. “Out of all my sisters, why would you choose me?”
“Because you are the one who will use it to change the very fabric of this world,” Santisima said, and Elsie shook her head at her. Her mother was always saying strangely cryptic things like that, but she never explained anything, no matter how much Elsie asked. “You must become so familiar with the staff that it shows you its true form. You only have until the year of the lamb to master this.”
“When is the year of the lamb?” Elsie asked, mystified. It was the first time her mother had mentioned it.
“I cannot tell you, but you will know it when it comes. Elspeth, it is very important that you be ready before then.” Santisima held her gaze, her dark eyes pressing the importance of what she was saying into her heart.
“Why can’t you just tell me what it is I need to be ready for?” Elsie asked, exasperated by all the secrets.
“You will build a coven of legion and bring magic back to this world,” Santisima answered, the most she’d ever given away. Elsie’s brows knit together. Coven of legion? Magic? The world already had magic!
“That doesn’t even make any sense,” she complained, and her mother smiled.
“I’m sorry, my darling, it is all I can tell you. If I tell you the rest, nothing will go the way it needs to. Everything you must do, must happen because you choose it to happen. Any guidance on the matter, and you will fail.”
“Fail? This isn’t fair! How can I be expected to succeed in whatever this is if I haven’t been told what I need to do?” Elsie asked, frowning in frustration. “You’re expecting too much of me, mi madre.”
“I have already told you what you need to do. Try not to worry about it too much,” Santisima said. She kissed her daughter’s forehead. “I believe in you, Elspeth. You have everything you need inside of you. The next time we meet, you will have changed the world.”
Chapter 1
Three years later
Elsie lit the first dish towel on fire and casually walked away. She’d tied two of them together to give the flames a little extra time before reaching the gas tank, so there was no need to hurry. He really should have known better. Driving an antique vehicle using gasoline instead of one outfitted to take advantage of solar power was just asking for trouble. It was practically a miracle the thing still worked.
She stood on the crumbling sidewalk, which barely deserved the name anymore considering the concrete was reduced to gravel in some places. Facing a butter yellow, cookie-cutter ranch house, right in the heart of their tiny human town, she waited. The yard was well kept, with an assortment of hardy miniature bushes and a trimmed lawn. It was the perfect place for a rogue boar demon to hide in plain sight, and he’d certainly done his best to fit in. Until now.
She bounced on the balls of her feet in anticipation. These were her best shoes, plenty of sole left to give her better traction. For her plan to work, she only needed to make it three and a half blocks. The boar lived just outside of the main strip of the tiny business district, making this easier on her.
Light from the dish towel was still visible in the dark, so she figured she had a few seconds. Elsie took a small pendant of a black-robed figure from beneath her shirt and kissed it, a habit she’d picked up over time.
“Mother, protect me,” she whispered, her nerves prickling. The air took on that heavy quality it sometimes did when something frightening was about to happen. A kind of tingly instinct warned her to be ready for anything because something was about to go wrong. She was made for these moments. Elsie’s senses expanded, taking in every sound, her vision sharpening and allowing her to see the trails of magic coming in and out of the house.
It was a special talent of hers. Though it was only part of what made her the best, it had made her highly sought after during her time with the Hunter Clans, back when she’d been captain of the top squad. She could identify any magical creature by the bits of magic they left behind everywhere they went, and it allowed her to track anyone that needed to be found.
Thwump. His car exploded. Heat from the blast struck her, whipping her hair back and rumpling her clothes. Glass rained down, sticking in Elsie’s hip-length blue hair. She’d started growing it out the day her mother had taken her back from the hunters. She didn’t react to the blast. Even vehicles as old as this one had special glass, designed with safety in mind. It wouldn’t cut her.
Her eyes remained trained on the front door, a deep oak color, with an oversized brass knocker. She slipped a raven mask over her face. It was decorated with sugar skull designs she’d hand-painted. Her mother’s words rang in her ears. ‘You are an executioner, my dear. Always cover your face, so those you condemn cannot curse you.’
The door opened and Samuel Appleton stepped out, his eyes glued to his preciously expensive, antique sports car. A commodity pretty much anywhere, but especially so here, in this little place. Enough so that Elsie had wondered how he’d even gotten his hands on the thing.
Cars were great for showing off around town, but they were useless outside of their village. The roads connecting Providence to the nearest town were filled with cracks, wash-outs, and landslides. It hadn’t taken nature long to reclaim her land when human civilization had crumbled. Most people around here had bikes or motorbikes, which were far more versatile.
His first reaction was disbelief. Samuel’s hands went to the top of his head in a pretty decent imitation of what a human would do if he suddenly found his car had exploded. His jaw dropped open, and he sputtered out a few noises, unable to form actual words. Elsie tilted her head and waited, watching his reaction with interest. He stood outside his door, staring at his vehicle, actually stumbling back a step.
After a few moments of scrambling, the disbelief faded, replaced by growing anger. Samuel threw back his head and screamed at the sky, stomping across the yard toward the car. Already, his piggy eyes were a little smaller, a little further apart, a little less human, confirming what she already knew. He was slipping.
Elsie flicked open her lighter, then clicked it closed. Samuel jerked his head around at the slight sound, his demonic hearing focusing on her. Tusks jutted out of his lower jaw, and the hair he’d so carefully dyed black faded to a dull grayish brown as it thinned, pulling back into a sparse, wiry mohawk.
“You did this?” Samuel hesitated for only a second as he realized exactly who had come for him. Then he let out a bellow, lowered his head, and charged after her. Elsie mentally ticked off the first objective on her list of things to do that night. ‘Make Samuel Appleton so angry he loses his ability to use reason. Check.’
Elsie turned on her toes in a move she’d learned fro
m early hunter training and bolted, feeling an uncomfortable pull on her calf. She was out of practice. There hadn’t been anything to hunt down in months, and it had made her lazy. Luckily, her body knew what to do, and the adrenaline kicked in as her brain told it they were being chased by a murderous demon, helping her hit a full sprint before she crossed the neighbor’s driveway.
Boars were tricky, and they tended to be pretty temperamental. Almost every boar she’d ever come across was intelligent enough to be intimidatingly formidable. However, their power types and levels fluctuated so greatly she was never entirely sure what she was going to encounter when engaging with one.
They were considered lesser demons, though she’d heard of one male in the South that had transcended the label. One ornery little piggy powerful enough to become a Lord if he so chose. As far as she knew, he had not made that choice.
Elsie was only glad she didn’t live in that area. There were some insanely powerful demons in the South, which was where Samuel claimed he was originally from when she interviewed him upon his arrival. But the boar was nowhere near the level of that singular legendary beast.