Reaper (Dragon Prophecies Book 1)

Home > Other > Reaper (Dragon Prophecies Book 1) > Page 73
Reaper (Dragon Prophecies Book 1) Page 73

by Hickory Mack


  Cross’ stunned look reflected her own as Elsie’s mind whirled with questions. Who on Earth had Frost found? “You have to go. I’ll stay with him until you come back.”

  Her brujo stood, holding out a hand to help her up. When Elsie stood, he kissed her lips and held her tight. She gave him a quick squeeze before stepping away.

  This was a turn of events she hadn’t expected. They could actually make progress in getting Saint back! Elsie stripped off her pajamas with an orange stain on the top on the way to the closet. She hadn’t managed to care about her appearance much over the past couple of days.

  Not caring that they were both watching her ass as she walked away, she shook her hair out of the messy bun it had inhabited for days. Not even Wren had managed to convince her to take care of it. Taking out the outfit the spirit had picked for the day, she shimmied her ass into a skirt with a flirty top then pulled on her boots.

  After a quick look in the mirror, she brushed her hair and threw it into a quick ponytail. Then, taking Mouro’s offered hand, she threaded her fingers with his. “Show me what that crazy wolf found.”

  “That was the fastest I’ve ever seen a female get ready,” the wolverine praised. “You transformed from a grungy shut-in to a goddess in minutes.”

  Cross nodded his agreement, and Elsie gave them both a dirty look. She still didn’t much care what her clothes looked like, but if she had to leave the room, she wouldn’t embarrass her mate.

  It was hard to keep up with Mouro’s long stride as they went down the stairs and through the saloon. Whoever Frost had found, the wolf had certainly made an impression on the wolverine. He stopped in the street and took her other hand. “We’ll jump from here.”

  “Is it far?”

  “Just a few miles outside of town. They’re keeping them there so the demons affected by the hunters won’t start a mob and kill them all,” he explained. His magic wrapped around her, and they jumped. The world flashed by in a blur, and they landed just outside of a fortified cabin in the woods.

  “This is where they’re keeping a medical team?” Elsie snorted. “How are they managing surgeries without the proper facilities?”

  “Carefully,” an approaching demon answered with a serious look. Elsie’s mouth nearly dropped open in surprise. This was the wyvern she’d seen with the witches!

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Pascal growled. “I thought you went back to House Makkai.”

  The wyvern’s mismatched green and red eyes were focused on Elsie as he answered. “My Lord has no need of me right now, so I returned. I couldn’t get over the feeling that this was where I am supposed to be.”

  He and Elsie stared at each other for well beyond what was polite. “I’ve seen you before,” she blurted out, and he gave her a gorgeous smile.

  “When was that?”

  “When you first arrived in town,” she answered. His head tilted to one side, his hair falling in his eyes.

  “Noticed me, did you?” He licked his lips. “I must not have seen you. I’d have remembered a face like yours.”

  “Y-you looked much younger then,” Elsie stuttered, and Mouro put his arm around her waist.

  “Stop flirting with my mate,” he growled, and the wyvern looked surprised.

  “This is your mate? You’re not at all what I envisioned. Gods, it’s like a sickness. Lady Chiori has four of them now. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. They’re all so enamored with each other it’s difficult to be in the same room as them.” He shuddered.

  “You’re contracted to the black fox?” Elsie asked, and he nodded.

  “Where are my manners? My name is Moscow.” He bowed to both her and Mouro.

  “Moscow,” Elsie repeated.

  “You’re here for the wolf, right? He won’t let go of Gerald, and nobody wants to get close to him. We have some surgeries that need to be done, and it’ll be easier if Gerald is on the team,” the wyvern said.

  “Oh, yes. The wolf and I are connected,” Elsie answered.

  “Another mate? Is that a rude question? I never know what’s considered polite these days. Times change so quickly over the years.”

  Elsie blinked. He didn’t look any older than she was, but looks could be deceiving. He’d been a teenager a week and a half ago. Meanwhile Cross looked no older than thirty, and he was well over a hundred.

  “He’s not her mate,” Mouro grumbled.

  “Hey, you’re a Lady then, right? You’ll have to come and visit Lady Chiori. The Lords around us haven’t had women considered Ladies in a long time. Roth had some mistresses, but never anything serious. We’ll be seeing each other around.” He grinned, winking his green eye.

  Elsie’s breath caught in her throat. She’d just received an invitation to meet the witches. This demon would help her find the people who could remove her curse.

  “This is your last warning, pup,” Mouro growled as they followed him around to the back of the back of the cabin.

  “My apologies, Lord Pascal,” Moscow said, his voice far too light to be taken seriously. He glanced at Elsie. “You ended up with a Demon Lord known to be nearly as temperamental as my own. He’s strong, too.”

  Trying not to laugh at the sour expression on Mouro’s face, Elsie grabbed his arm. She didn’t want the wolverine to beat this guy senseless, but for some reason, she already liked the wyvern. It wouldn’t be a bother to have him as a neighbor.

  “Ah, there’s your monster,” Moscow said, motioning to the back yard. Two men and a woman stood a fair distance away from where Frost lay nonchalantly, his paw pinning a man to the ground.

  Elsie shared a look with Mouro and jogged forward. “What do you have there, Frosty?” she asked. He glanced over at her, and she swore to fucking god, his tail hit the ground twice in a friendly greeting. He’d just wagged his tail at her!

  She came up next to him and set her hand on his shoulder, then kneeled to look at the man whose face was squashed into the ground. Her heart skipped a beat before it began to thunder in her chest. The scar over his eye gave him away immediately. Frost had found Angus Fucking Cornick.

  “You alright there, Gerald?” Moscow asked, but Cornick didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on Elsie, wide with fear.

  “Gerald?” she scoffed.

  “Who is it?” Mouro asked, walking up behind her.

  Elsie cut a glance to the woman keeping her distance with the two demon men. She’d have known damn well who this bastard was. “This is Angus Cornick, the experimental weapons researcher who nearly killed Saint. This man is responsible for the deaths of thousands of demons. It was his research that got chips put in their heads in the first place.”

  Moscow’s face had gone cold. “There was something about you that bothered me, and now I know what it is. My Lady was looking for you, Cornick. She asked for you by name, but we couldn’t find you. We figured you had either escaped or were killed by Lord Makkai, yet here you were this whole time, under our protection. Maybe this is why I felt like I was supposed to come back here. I needed to find you.”

  “Don’t feel bad. He’s good at fooling people,” Elsie consoled.

  “Pup, I want a favor,” Mouro said, his voice deadly.

  “House Makkai is ever a friend to House Pascal, you know that,” Moscow replied.

  “He needs to do one more surgery, and then we bring him to Lord Makkai. He will be a gift, from my mate to his,” Mouro requested.

  “Now that we know his secret, you still want to trust him to help someone else?” Moscow asked, surprised.

  “If the rest of the team can do it without him, that’s the route we’ll go with,” Elsie replied, then spoke to the wolf. “Let him up, Frost.”

  The wolf put his muzzle in Cornick’s face with a threatening growl before removing his paw. He sat up, not taking his eye off the hunter. Cornick sat up, holding his head and moaning, but nobody gave him any sympathy.

  “Are you regretting your choices yet?” Elsie asked.

  “Y
ou might have to be a little more specific than that. He shot my Lady,” Moscow said, glaring at the hunter. He brushed the hair out of his eyes, and Elsie noted a silver bracelet around his wrist with the charm of a scythe.

  “I was there when it happened,” Elsie admitted.

  “The only thing I regret is bringing you into this,” Cornick seethed. “I know you’re the one who killed Grant and Rand. Your goddamned wolf destroyed my labs. You ruined everything.”

  “Stop acting like you’re the victim! You ruined everything when you forced me to be a part of the twisted circus you were running. We couldn’t have done any of that if you hadn't brought the fox and his mate into the compound. There’s one important thing I need to know. What the fuck did you do to Saint, and why won’t he wake up?” she demanded.

  “I don’t know anybody named Saint.”

  “Be careful how you answer. She’s talking about the wolfhound,” Mouro growled.

  “He survived?” Cornick’s dark eyes glittered with interest.

  “Is it the chip? Is that why he’s still asleep?!” Elsie’s voice had gone low as she strived not to scream at him.

  “His chip was never activated. We didn’t have time. You’ll have to either activate it or remove it. The chip blocks neuro activity. He cannot wake while it’s still in there, not without its stimulation,” Cornick replied. Elsie’s hands balled into fists as she turned to Moscow.

  “When can we have Saint’s surgery?”

  “We have a waiting list of over thirty demons waiting to have their chips removed,” he answered, looking troubled. “But all of them are awake and capable of living their lives. We’ll make him a priority, and he can be next. They’re not supposed to do another one until tonight, but we’ll reschedule it. Bring the hound here, and we’ll get him fixed up.”

  “And Cornick?” Mouro asked.

  “The credit for his discovery is all yours. You may present him to my Lady, as you wish,” Moscow answered. He dipped his head to Elsie, his mismatched eyes holding hers. “I look forward to getting to know you on the journey home.”

  Mouro slapped the back of his head. “If you didn’t belong to the fox, you’d be dead by now, you know that, right?”

  “My apologies.”

  Grabbing Mouro’s hand excitedly, Elsie hid another laugh. “Leave him be. We need to tell Cross and Wren!”

  “I’ll keep this one tucked away until you return. We wouldn’t want him escaping, or any of our guys killing him,” Moscow offered. “You can trust me. My Lady wants this man in the worst way, and I won’t disappoint her.”

  ”The only good trait of House Makkai, you’re all ridiculously loyal,” Mouro grumbled. “We’ll leave the wolf here to keep an eye on him.”

  “Our only good trait?” Moscow laughed before dragging Cornick to his feet. “Blasphemy! You shouldn’t talk about your neighbors like that. Let her decide the truth on her own. See you soon.”

  Elsie bound through the portal into their room with more enthusiasm than she’d shown all week, causing both Cross and Wren to look up at her in surprise. In the middle of whipping up some new concoction, the spirit stopped stirring to offer a pleased smile.

  “Mouro and Frost found the solution to our problem!” she squealed at them, rushing forward into Cross’ arms. She hugged him tight, explaining everything in rushed, breathless sentences.

  “If that damned wyvern tries to start anything, let me know. I’ll take care of him,” Mouro said, his eyes narrowed as he gave Elsie a warning look. “Don’t even try to defend him.”

  “I just think it’s a bad idea to injure the guy who invited us to meet the witches, that’s all,” she said, and Wren tilted his head.

  “That was a lie,” he said curiously. “What are we missing?”

  “He was flirting with her.”

  “More like flirting at me,” she defended.

  “You let him?” Wren asked, sounding surprised.

  “No!”

  “She did.”

  “Why would she do that?” Cross asked, looking like she’d wounded him. “Why would you do that?”

  “Wha- I- don’t know…” Elsie sputtered. She honestly hadn’t thought anything of her interaction with the wyvern until her men started questioning it.

  “There’s one reason,” Wren suggested cryptically, raising his brow.

  “If you say what I think you’re going to say, I’ll just go kill him now so it’ll never be a problem,” Mouro threatened.

  “It’s what you think,” Wren replied.

  “What are you talking about?” Elsie demanded, exasperated.

  “He could be another of your mates,” Wren answered. “We should see how Frida reacts to him. And you said he came here because he felt like he needed to be? Bit suspect if you ask me.”

  Mouro’s biceps flexed as his fists hardened. “I’ll kill him.”

  “Stop it! Nobody is killing anybody,” Elsie ordered.

  “Because he’s your mate?” Cross questioned.

  “Oh, come on, none of us know that. You guys are just being jerks for no good reason,” she complained.

  “But you tolerated his flirting. That’s a pretty telling indication that you’re into him,” Wren continued.

  “He was just being friendly!”

  “He winked at her.”

  “That’s beyond friendly,” Cross said.

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s not important to me, and I’ll stay away from him, okay? What matters is bringing Saint there so he can get that fucking chip out of his brain.”

  “Then we have a deal. Stay away from the sky snake, and we’ll let him live,” Mouro agreed.

  “Are you guys seriously going to threaten anyone who smiles at me?” Elsie sighed, but she had to admit a secret part of her preened at the idea. She liked belonging to them, and no one else.

  “Imagine if it were a woman acting like that toward one of us,” Cross said, and she scowled. She’d definitely have words for anyone stupid enough to try talking to her men, though it might be funny for a few seconds to watch the woman get rejected.

  “Fine. Point taken.” She opened the portal back to the cabin in the woods. “Can we go now?”

  Mouro and Wren worked together to carry Saint, neither of them burdened by the wolfhound demon’s massive body weight. They walked through the portal, and this time everybody came, including Frida. Moscow and Frost were still in the backyard dealing with Cornick. The wyvern watched them come with amusement in his eyes.

  “You brought a whole pack with you this time,” he said as they approached. “Come on inside. The operating room is ready for you. Cornick will come too, now that you’re back. It’ll be easier to keep an eye on him that way.”

  The cabin was even simpler than it looked. The inside was empty—save for a row of cages along one wall and a profusion of medical equipment taken from one of the medical theaters in the hunter compound.

  “How did you guys have time to get all of this out?” Elsie asked.

  “There were quite a lot of us, and Lady Chiori was worried about one of her girls who’d been chipped. She convinced our Lord to hold off on destroying the place for nearly an hour, so we did whatever we could to get people and supplies out of there. You can set the hound on the table,” Moscow said, pushing Cornick into one of the cages.

  “He can’t be trusted to help with the procedure, so it’ll be done without him,” he added once Cornick was locked up. “You can wait in one of those chairs if you like, but I wouldn’t suggest it. It’s not pretty to watch, especially if it’s happening to someone you love.”

  “What exactly are they going to do to him?” Elsie asked, and Moscow flinched, as though he’d hoped she wouldn’t ask.

  “The chips weren’t designed to come out. They’re inserted by drilling a tiny hole in the patient’s skull, then nano technology fuses it into the neurotransmitters of the brain. Which means it’s a bit more complicated to remove them. It requires opening a two-inch square of the sk
ull and careful extraction of the chip. Like I said, it’s not pretty, but the survival rate is high,” the wyvern explained.

  “How high?” Elsie demanded, her hand on Saint’s neck.

  “In the past week, we have removed forty-seven chips,” one of the medical team answered, and Elsie noticed how exhausted they all looked. “We have only lost one patient.”

  Elsie’s head was spinning; that was slightly higher than a two-percent failure rate.

  “It was one of their first patients, and they’ve gotten much more efficient since then,” Moscow insisted.

  “How long will it take?” she asked.

  “They’ve been averaging two to three hours,” Moscow answered.

  “We’ll wait outside,” Wren said for the whole group. He watched Frida, who was winding herself around the wyvern’s legs as if she’d known him her whole life while the wyvern himself ignored the cat’s existence entirely.

  “I don’t want to leave him,” Elsie argued, but Cross kissed her forehead.

  “I’ll stay, alright? It won’t be as hard for me to watch since I’m not attached to him,” he said.

  “But—”

  “Good man,” Mouro replied, then took Elsie in hand and steered her outside. “They have a job to do, and they might find it harder to do with an angry, terrified reaper standing over them while they work. It’s better for the hound if the people operating on his brain aren’t nervous, yes?”

  “Yes,” Elsie admitted, the fight going out of her. Wren walked up behind them and lifted her off her feet.

  “Would you like to sleep through it?” he asked. “It could ease your worries for a time.”

  “I’d rather not. I need to be awake in case anything goes wrong.”

  “Don’t think about it like that. Put it into your head that you need to be there when he wakes up,” Mouro corrected her.

 

‹ Prev