Reaper's Vow

by Sarah McCarty

  “I’m already married.”

  “Clark has petitioned to have that union set aside.”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said no. The union will not be set aside.”

  “The council is not unsympathetic,” another of the council members spoke up. Miranda didn’t know much about him aside from his name. Noah Kinder. He was older in appearance. And a bit pompous. “It was decided that upon the death of your current mate, we would consent to the mating with Clark. I know it seems abrupt, Mrs. Cameron, but Clark has agreed to give you a time of mourning before instituting the rights of mating.”

  “It’s so kind of him to decide to wait to rape me.”

  Noah snorted. “There is no rape in a mating.”

  She looked at him, at all of them, as if they were out of their minds, because they truly were. Her free hand clenched into a fist. “You have no idea what you do to women with your rules. You think you’re so much better than the ones who maraud and rape and steal, but all you do is dress it up prettier, because in the end the woman still has no choice.”

  There was a rumble of disapproval from all the men except Blade and Gaelen. The latter nodded.

  Noah cleared his throat and frowned at her. “Do you wish to speak against this mating?”

  “I don’t need to speak against it.”

  “Then it’s settled.”

  “I’ve already refused it.”

  She could feel the council’s flinch.

  Blade asked, “Why?”

  “He’s a brute, a bully, and he’s a traitor.”

  “The hell you say, woman.” Clark took an angry step forward.

  She turned to face him, lifting her chin, standing her ground. “And right now, he intends to beat me because I told the truth.”

  “Do you have any proof of this?” Gaelen asked.

  “He was there when Cole was attacked, and I think he was there when I got these.” She touched her scars.

  “That’s a lie!”

  “Do you have proof?” Blade asked.

  “Only what I saw.”

  “Then it’s your word against his,” Noah said as if that settled everything. And she supposed in his eyes it did.

  “It’s the truth.”

  “No one believes you.”

  She looked Clark in the eye. “I won’t marry you, and if you touch me, I’m going to hurt you. Before God and the council, I swear I will.”

  “Enough,” Noah cut in. “The council understands it must be hard to think of taking another man before your husband is dead, but these hysterics won’t change anything.”

  She growled deep in her throat. No one paid her any heed.

  “The decision has been made. There are signs of renegade Reapers. You and your daughter need protection. Sitting in the middle of the pack is not enough. Clark will claim you.”

  Tightening her grip on the sword Miranda repeated, “I am claimed.”

  “A dead man can’t protect you.”

  She jerked her chin in Clark’s direction. “Neither can he.”

  “Enough,” Noah snapped again while the rest of the council watched her, like an amusing bug pinned to a board. “We don’t have time for your foolishness.”

  “Then don’t waste your time preaching the impossible,” she snapped right back. “I won’t go with him. I won’t mate with him. I won’t be with him.” She turned to Clark. “And if you take a step closer to me, I’m going to kill you.”

  Clark just smiled and kept coming, victory dripping from his gloating smile. “The council has spoken.”

  He shouldn’t have smiled. She might have held on to her control had he not smiled, but she’d seen that smile before. She’d seen it as Cole went down, his blood staining her hands. She remembered the blood so well. It bled into her heart, into her soul, into her anger until red was all she could see.

  Clark took another step. Before he could take a third, she whipped the sword around, her aim true. She was braced for the force of hitting a tree, but his head severed from his body with surprising ease. Blood sprayed in a warm rain. The council snarled and gasped. Blade chuckled as Clark’s body fell to the floor. Taking a step back, Miranda turned in a slow circle to face them all, blood dripping from her outstretched sword.

  “Clark raped me when I was changed. He ordered the attack on my mate. He struck my child, and he struck me. If I were a man, you’d be surprised I hadn’t killed him long before, but I have news for you. I may be a woman, but I’m Reaper to the bone, and I deserved justice, not a forced marriage.”

  “Kind of a moot point now,” Isaiah pointed out.

  “It always was. It was only your inflated opinion of yourselves that made you think you had a say otherwise.”

  “You go too far,” Noah growled, standing.

  She brought up the sword. Other members of the council stood, Blade and Isaiah among them. She didn’t care. She was just . . . done. “I’ll honor your laws, every single damn one of them that’s fair to everybody, but I won’t be forced to marry, and I won’t be forced to bear children I don’t want.”

  “The law is the law.”

  “Then the law needs to change, and you need to change it. Or you can anticipate a heck of a lot more bodies lying about.”

  “She’s got a point,” Blade said from where he stood, calmly rolling a cigarette.

  “The hell she does.” Noah slapped his hand on the table. “She just killed a man in front of us all.”

  “The woman’s crazy,” she heard someone mutter.

  “Can’t say that I blame her.” Blade lit his cigarette and took a draw. “The man needed killing.”

  Miranda looked at him, feeling the weight of the sword in her hand. “Why didn’t you?”

  He blew out a stream of smoke. “You were doing all right on your own.”

  Yes, she realized, she had been.

  “The council had spoken. She had no right,” Noah said again.

  Isaiah took a step forward. “The council was wrong.”

  That set off a whole new furor. No one seemed to care about Clark lying in the middle of the floor, pumping blood into the dirt. They were caught up in the argument. None of the discussions revolved around the right and wrong of her killing Clark. All of it had to do with who should have what power.

  Blade motioned toward the door. “Now might be a good time to leave.”

  Miranda couldn’t agree more. When she stepped outside, the women gathered around the door stepped aside, clearing a path for her to walk through. All except Cindy, Clark’s wife. She just stood there at the end of the small gathering, pale and quiet as always, a fresh bruise on her cheek. Miranda didn’t know what to say to her. Clark had been a brute, but he’d been her husband. Miranda settled for a completely inadequate, “I’m sorry.”

  For a long moment, there was silence. Then Cindy wiped her hands on her apron. “Don’t be. The man needed killing.”

  As if that was all she needed to say, she turned and walked toward her house.

  Miranda could only watch her go. She heard someone say, “Amen,” and then the applause started, small claps that built. The women of the Reapers weren’t many, but they were united in this moment. And all it’d taken was killing a man. She sighed.

  “Don’t follow my example; they’re probably going to kill me come morning.”

  The clapping stopped. She didn’t. She needed to get back to Cole. Someone touched her arm, and she turned. It was Addy.

  “You can’t go back like that. You’ll scare Wendy.”

  Miranda blinked and looked down. She was covered in blood. Her stomach heaved.

  “You women fetch some water. We need to get her cleaned up.” Addy took her hand. Her voice gentled. “You come with me.”

  Like a puppet, Miranda followed
Addy into her cabin. It could have been minutes or hours before the bath was ready. Everything was so out of focus. Miranda sat through the bathing, that numbness still holding her, the sword clutched in her hand. After one attempt to take it, Addy left it, working around it.

  “Where did you get your sword?” she asked finally as she handed Miranda a clean dress.

  Drifting as she was in that uncaring sea, Miranda struggled to form the answer. “It was my husband’s.”

  “I didn’t know you kept it.”

  “No one pays much attention to what I do.”

  “They will now.”

  Addy started buttoning the dress. Miranda saw again the light flash against the sword’s blade, Clark’s expression of horror. She’d been fast, so fast, and he hadn’t expected it. No one ever expected bad things to happen. The horror of what she’d done finally sank in.

  She looked at Addy and whispered, “They’re going to kill me, aren’t they?”

  “No, they’re not going to kill you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I won’t let them.”

  “You’re a woman.”

  Addy huffed. “As you’ve proven, women have a lot more power and a lot less patience than these men think, but Isaiah won’t let them kill you, either. And neither will Blade or Gaelen or Dirk.”

  Miranda pushed Addy’s hands away and took over the buttoning. “Blade didn’t say a word, the whole time. I thought he was with them.”

  “You never know what that one’s thinking.”

  “Do you think they’ll take revenge?”

  “On you? No.”

  “On Cole?” Ice settled in Miranda’s gut. He was alone and vulnerable. “Oh my God, I’ve got to get back to him.”

  “Cindy and Bebe are with him, keeping guard.

  “They won’t be any match for the council.”

  “Bebe has a gun.”

  “Bebe has a gun?” Bebe was sweet and gentle, and she never bucked the current. Her surprise must have shown.

  “I don’t think there is a single woman here who doesn’t feel exactly as you do. The laws were written before the Reapers had women, but the laws have to change. Whether they think they are protecting us or not, they have to change.”

  “Change takes time.”

  Addy nodded. “I know.” She handed Miranda a brush. “Has there been any improvement at all in Cole?”

  Miranda shook her head and yanked the brush through the snarled ends of her hair. “No, it’s like he’s dead but won’t accept it.”

  “You think it’s just a matter of time?”

  Miranda wouldn’t think that way. “I think it’s in God’s hands.”

  “And you trust God?” Addy asked.

  Miranda knew Addy had her own experiences that put doubt in her voice. “I think God’s the only hope I have.”

  Addy nodded. “Then we need to get to praying.”

  “I don’t have time right now. I have to get back.”

  Addy nodded. “You go ahead, then. I’ll arrange it.”

  “And if the council comes for me?”

  Addy smiled. “They’ll have to go through our prayer circle to get to you.”

  Miranda paused. “You believe faith will deter them?”

  Addy’s smile grew harder. “If that doesn’t,” she patted her hip pocket, “Isaiah has given me a few things that will bring them to their knees.”

  “You can’t confront them,” Miranda gasped.

  Addy looked at her, showing the iron side Isaiah bragged on but Miranda had never seen. “They have a choice. They can accept us or fight us, but either way, you’re safe here.”

  “You’re declaring war?” Miranda couldn’t comprehend it.

  “In a manner of speaking.” Addy’s smile softened again, this time with amusement. “However, it’s not that bad. We’re talking husbands and wannabe husbands of a pack selected by Isaiah for their character.”

  Miranda handed Addy back the brush. “They’re pretty set on their precious laws.”

  Addy took it. “True, but since every man knows a happy wife makes for a happy life, I’m not anticipating a prolonged fight.”

  And Miranda understood. In a confrontation every mate would be forced to stand by his wife. Every man hoping to have a wife wouldn’t touch a woman with mate potential. The men’s hands were tied from the get-go. That had never occurred to Miranda, she’d been so cowed by the circumstances surrounding her change. She just looked at Addy and shook her head. “I hope Isaiah appreciates the brilliance of you.”

  “He does, and though he likely won’t appreciate the timing of this, he’ll come to understand the why eventually.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  Addy nodded, handing Miranda a rawhide tie for her hair. “He’s the best, and so is yours, and it’s time you got back to him.”

  It was. She bound off her braid and flipped her hair back over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you for getting rid of Clark. Isaiah’s hands were tied, though he was considering alternatives.” Addy turned and rummaged in a chest at the side of the table. “If it’s any consolation, you would never have been forced to marry that bastard,” she said from the interior.

  Miranda picked up her sword. “Why did no one tell me?”

  Addy straightened and turned back. “Suffice it to say we had a plan.”

  “And now?”

  Addy placed a mean-looking revolver on the table. “I think you improved upon it.”

  * * *

  It was exactly as Addy had said it would be when Miranda got back home. Bebe and Cindy sat outside the door. Propped on the wall beside Bebe was an old-fashioned rifle.

  As was happening a lot lately, Miranda didn’t know what to say. When they stood and greeted her as if nothing out of the ordinary was occurring, Miranda followed suit. With a simple “Afternoon,” she entered her home.

  It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. Everything was as it should be. Cole was still lying as he had before with no change to his position. Wendy sat by his side, patting his chest, talking to him about her day, Addy thought, until she heard her end on a flourish only a six-year-old could conjure, “Then Mommy cut off his head.”

  Oh dear heavens. Miranda stood the sword against the wall. It slid to the side until it hit the doorjamb. “Don’t be telling him that.”

  “Why not? It’s true, isn’t it? Bebe said it was true.”

  She didn’t have any choice but to nod. Outside she heard female voices murmur greetings.

  “I’m telling Cole why he has to wake up,” Wendy explained.

  “Why?”

  “Because now that you’ve made the council mad, we really have to go. And he has to go with us.”

  The child was entirely too perceptive. Outside voices rose in prayer. A little of the tension inside Miranda eased, but not much. They were only safe for the moment.

  “Yes, we do.” She just didn’t know how she was going to do that. How she was going to take her daughter away to be safe but leave Cole behind to be vulnerable. She reached out and touched his energy. It might have been her imagination, but there was a flicker. Or not. She sighed.

  She heard footsteps at the door and turned. Blade and Isaiah stood in the doorway, blocking out the light. She grabbed the sword in both hands and sprang, putting herself between them and Cole.

  “Mister Isaiah!” Wendy cried out happily.

  “Stay back, Wendy,” Miranda ordered harshly enough that Wendy obeyed out of surprise.

  Isaiah shook his head and sighed. “You wouldn’t even get half a swing in before I took that from you.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I don’t want to take your sword from you, Miranda.”

  “He killed my first husband, attacked C
ole.”

  Blade cut her off with a slash of his hand. “You don’t have to go into your reasons. Just answer this. Do you swear your accusations against Clark to be true?”

  What were they up to? “Yes.”

  “Then that works for me.”

  “And me,” Isaiah echoed, leaning against the wall and folding his arms across his chest. He looked amazingly nonchalant for such an intimidating presence.

  “And the council?” she asked.

  “Nobody has a problem with you killing Clark. Deep down they all kind of thought he needed it.”

  “Yet they would have married me to him.”

  Blade shrugged. “It was the easiest solution to the biggest problem.”

  “So what is their problem now?”

  “You told them to go to hell.”

  “They have no right to do whatever they want to me or to any other women under their protection.”

  “I got to say, I agree with you,” Blade said. “The laws are weighted in the wrong direction, but change isn’t going to happen overnight.”

  “I know that. What is their verdict?”

  “They don’t have one yet. They’re still busy fighting among themselves over how much disrespect was shown. They’re also a bit distracted by a bigger problem.”

  “They are?”

  “Addy and some of the women are blocking the council entrance from the inside and out.”

  “What are they doing?”

  It was Isaiah who answered, “Praying.”

  Miranda smiled. “Addy is a woman of strong convictions.”

  “Their support for you is quite visible,” Blade continued.

  “Council’s about fit to be tied,” Isaiah explained. “Can’t rightly go hanging all the women.”

  She touched her neck. “Hanging?”

  “Figure of speech.”

  Maybe it was; maybe it wasn’t. Again Miranda felt that flicker from Cole. She turned and put her hand on Cole’s cheek, hoping to find life but only finding that bare pulse of nothingness. Her mind was playing tricks on her.