Reap & Redeem

by Lisa Medley

  The familiar phrase “no rest for the weary” played on repeat at the edges of his consciousness, but his head hung to his chest and he let his blades fall from his hands in defeat.

  * * *

  Olivia opened her eyes with a start, momentarily discombobulated, as if she were waking from a strange dream. Desperate to make sense of what she was seeing, she tried to remember where she was and why, but she came up completely blank. Lying perfectly still, she watched in surreal awe as two men fought in front of her.

  Kylen! She wanted to call out to him, but she was terrified she’d distract him.

  She watched in horror as the man batted Kylen about the room, toying with him. Her captor was the only one bleeding—yet—but when Kylen’s scythe was knocked from his hand, she sensed that he was giving up.

  “No!” she wanted to scream at him, but she couldn’t find her voice. That was when she noticed something unexpected and spectacular—her body was coming back to life.

  Yes, back to life!

  Her heartbeat was so strong and loud it was a wonder they didn’t both hear it. She followed them with her eyes, staying motionless until she saw Kylen slump down the wall in defeat. Camael crossed the room and loomed over him. Then he threw back his head and laughed.

  Laughed at the man she loved.

  It was enough to spur her into action. She grabbed the scythe, which had landed just a foot away from her pew, and gripped the handle in both hands, like Kylen had shown her. Drawing it behind her head, nearly to the center of her back, as she approached them, she put as much power as she could into her swing, aiming for the base of the angel’s head like it was a fall pumpkin. She followed through on her swing and sliced through his neck—bones, tendons and all. For a second, she thought she’d missed, and then in slow motion, Camael’s body tilted to the side, his head following separately. Blood pumped from his neck in pulsating torrents, flowing through the cracks in the hardwood floor of the chapel like it was a drain.

  Kylen looked up at her in awe and utter adoration. Then a black ooze and a cloud of thick smoke exuded from the body, filling the chapel with its sulfurous poison. Olivia choked and coughed, falling to her knees in front of Kylen as she cradled his head in her hands. Blue light sparked between them, circling them in a protective glow that pushed the black fog away. Pressure built inside the chapel and pressed against them, threatening to crush them. The stained-glass windows gave under the strain and exploded outward, shattering marblelike fragments onto the ground outside. Sunlight blazed through the eastern windows in three blinding shafts of light, chasing the last of the fog and darkness from the chapel.

  Kylen held Olivia in his arms and gazed at her face, her white hair incandescent in the morning sunlight. “You look like an angel.”

  “You look like hell. And I love you.” She smiled down at him, and then pressed her mouth to his as she melted into his arms. He crushed her to him, pummeling her mouth in desperation. Pulling away from her slightly, he buried his face in her neck and hair, his hands still clutching her to him.

  “I love you, too. I thought I’d lost you,” he said, his breath scorching her skin as desire bloomed low inside her.

  Deacon barreled through the doorway, eyes wild and scythe drawn, interrupting their reunion.

  Kylen laughed. “Show up when the work is done, why don’t you?” He tightened his embrace, pulling Olivia closer.

  “Oh, I don’t think it’s done. You’d better come outside.”

  Deacon reached down to help them up, and they followed him outside.

  * * *

  As they left the chapel and headed down the stairs, Kylen felt the ground vibrating under them. They rounded the corner of the chapel. Dozens of imps lay dead outside the windows, impaled by the glass from the explosion. Several more scurried into the safety of the woods and disappeared into its dark undergrowth.

  “Kylen! What are those things?” Olivia cried out, horrified.

  Kylen spun her toward him. “You can see them? What do they look like?”

  “They’re horrible. The look like exploded toads with…fangs.”

  Kylen snorted and pulled her close protectively. “Those are your precious cats, my dear.”

  “No!” Olivia shuddered.

  Maybe now she’d leave the damn things alone.

  “Do you feel that?” Deacon asked, walking toward the cemetery.

  “Yeah. What the hell is it?” he asked, clutching Olivia’s hand.

  “Nothing good.”

  The ground trembled and cracked across the topsoil of the cemetery, sending the tombstones toppling over. The earth heaved near the center of the small grounds and pushed open like a mouth. Camael’s swirling torrent of black smoke screamed from the forest canopy like an errant bottle rocket, disappearing into the void. The ground sank down behind it, leaving a tremendous sinkhole.

  “Holy shit,” Deacon said, backing away from the cemetery.

  “Do you think he’s gone? For good?” Olivia asked.

  Deacon and Kylen exchanged a look. “I’d better go tell Grim what’s going on. That portal might need some reinforcing. Take her home, Kylen.”

  Without hesitation, Kylen embraced Olivia and flashed her home.

  Chapter Forty

  Kylen had never been so happy to see Victorian wallpaper in all his life. He did a quick survey of Olivia’s apartment to ensure it was safe, and then peeked out the window. At least there were no imps in the alley. He tightened his hold on her, reassuring himself she was real. She was alive.

  “That’s a little too tight.” Olivia smiled.

  “Get used to it. I’m never letting you go again. Come, sit down.” He noticed her injuries as she walked in front of him, her jeans streaming like shredded banners behind her legs. “What’s wrong with your legs?”

  “I’m fine, Kylen. I feel…amazing. I can’t explain it.” The words tumbled out of her. “I don’t know what could have happened to me. I’m pretty sure I was dead. I tried to hang on for you. I really did, but I felt the life draining out of me. The longer I was trapped in that church, the worse I felt, until I couldn’t hold on anymore, and I…” Her voice faltered and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Let go.”

  Kylen closed his eyes, pained by her admission. Her suffering was on his shoulders. He should have found her sooner or, better yet, not lost her at all. It wouldn’t happen again. She was never leaving his side, and if he did have to go away from her, she would be protected. End of story. Final. No discussion.

  “What are these injuries? Did Camael do this to you?”

  “No.” She looked up at him through her lashes, her cheeks pinking in embarrassment. “It was the imps. You were right. I’m glad I couldn’t see them before. It would have been much worse.”

  He knelt in front of her to more closely inspect her injuries. They had healed. Only dried blood remained. She took his face in her hands. “Kylen, you saved me. I don’t know how, but you brought me back.”

  “It wasn’t me. It was Kara. She gave me a gift for you, Olivia. For both of us. The essence of the Valkyrie.”

  “I don’t understand, Kylen. You told me that Kara’s dead.” Olivia stroked her hand down his face and cupped his cheek.

  “She is, but I got to see her. I got to say goodbye, and she gave me the gift that saved you. That saved us both. You’re healed. No more cancer. No more sickness. No more death. You’re as strong as a Valkyrie. You’re human, but…more. As long as you keep your energy and your head, you’ll live indefinitely.”

  “Like you.” Another fat tear rolled down Olivia’s cheek, and Kylen thumbed it away. She caught his hand in hers and turned it to kiss his palm. “Thank you, Kylen. I love you so much.”

  Kylen’s face burned, and he felt his own eyes filling with tears. “I love you more.”

  He rose and reached for Olivia. “Come. Let me show you.”

  * * *

  Emotion blocked his throat, and he couldn’t speak as he led her to the bed. His own hea
rt seemed determined to escape from his chest. Kylen felt his energy wrenched from him as it reached out to her and watched as it combined with Olivia’s aura in an electric-blue shroud that surrounded them both. She circled her arms around him and curled into him.

  His hands found her hair and wove through it, and he pulled her face back from where she’d burrowed it against his chest, her tears dampening his shirt. He studied her, searching for signs of illness, desperate to reassure himself that she was his, that she was here and healthy and whole.

  “Kylen,” she said, her voice filled with need.

  “I know.”

  “Weapons?” Olivia smiled and Kylen dropped every piece of steel he was carrying to the floor.

  He reached for her and scooped her into his arms, laying her across the bed with reverence. He couldn’t take his eyes off hers.

  Stroking her face, a tumble of questions beat against his lips, but he suppressed them. There would be time for that later. He’d make sure of it. He wanted her far from the troubles that plagued him, plagued them all, but he couldn’t seal her up in a doorless tower somewhere protected by magic. Magic had failed him before. What he needed was stronger than magic, and he finally realized he’d possessed it all along. He’d only forgotten how to trust in it. One prayer had been answered, and now…another.

  Faith.

  He’d been given everything he didn’t even know he needed, and he was doubly blessed now that he finally realized that. He leaned over Olivia and closed his eyes as he brushed his cheek against hers. She sighed under him and that small sound filled him with a flood of warmth almost too strong to bear. Pulling her tight against him, he held her in silence for what may have been minutes or hours.

  He was lost in her.

  Kylen slid his hand along her cheek, glorying in the glow of her skin. She was healthy and alive. He couldn’t imagine anything more lovely. He moved his hand up and under her T-shirt to touch her skin, and his need grew so intense he couldn’t hold back any longer. Falling upon her, he buried his face against the hollow of her neck and breathed in her scent as he unfastened the buttons on her jeans.

  “God, Olivia. I’m so thankful for you.”

  Her hands slid along his lower back, pulling his T-shirt over his head. When she traced her fingers along the scars on his chest, he shivered under her touch and a moan escaped him.

  “I’m not going to last very long.”

  “You won’t have to.”

  Olivia pushed at his chest and rolled him onto his back, straddling his waist. Her rough jeans rubbed against him and his balls tightened at the sensation. Reaching across him and over his head, her breasts brushed his face as she pulled the ties holding the velvet drapes to the headboard posts. They fell free, and she drew them along the sides of the bed. When she loosed the footboard ties too, they were completely cocooned in her bed—the only place he ever wanted to be.

  She rolled off him and skimmed her jeans down, taking her panties with them, and then crawled back to him. She unbuttoned his jeans so slowly it was torture, and he lifted his hips so she could peel them off him. Her hands slid along the sides of his hips, and she lowered her face to his throbbing erection. He held his breath as she brushed her feather-soft cheek against his shaft. Moisture pearled as she sighed against him.

  “Olivia, don’t tease.”

  “I’m not teasing.”

  Her tongue glided from base to tip along one side of his erection, and he slammed his shoulders and head back into the mattress as his hands balled great clumps of the bedspread into his fists.

  When she administered the same attention to the other side of his shaft, he lost the last vestiges of control.

  “Please, Olivia.”

  Trailing her tongue from his base along the fine line of blond hair that trailed to his belly button, she pushed her hands across his torso to his chest and straddled him once more; this time her heat covered him. She braced her hands on his pectorals, raising her hips until she was aligned just right, and then lowered herself onto him. He pushed up to meet her, and she was like liquid fire around him. Olivia raised her hips and plunged back down, impaling her frail body on him, once…twice, and he was gone.

  He cried out and gripped her hips, holding her in place as his body pulsated, releasing into her, and then collapsed boneless into the mattress, too weak to even keep his hold. She stretched out across his chest, her body warm from exertion, and rested her head under his chin. Her heart pulsated against his, quickly learning his rhythm, then matching it.

  “Thank you, Olivia.”

  “My pleasure,” she said, her breath brushing across his chest.

  “Mmm, not yet, but it will be.” He rolled her onto her back and hovered over her on shaky arms as he worshiped her body with kisses, wanting to taste every sweet and salty inch of her. He laved every inch of her body, savoring her until he grew hard again. Still desperate for her, he drew a pearled nipple into his mouth and rolled his tongue around it until she squirmed beneath him and mewled soft sounds of pleasure. He would never tire of those sounds.

  He pushed into her and she clutched his head in her hands, drawing her hips against him, demanding more. His thumb worked at her nub as he stroked into her, driving her hips down into the bed. The harder he pushed inside her, the louder and more demanding she became. Feeling her tighten around him, he drove into her hard and fast until they both shattered and he collapsed beside her.

  Time didn’t seem to pass as they lay together out of the fray for whatever precious few moments they could enjoy together. He needed her. Needed to know her and feel her flesh against his if only for the briefest respite from the horrors around them.

  Olivia’s palm pushed the hair from his forehead, and she pulled his face to hers. When their lips met, the blue sparks sizzled between them again.

  He’d nearly thrown everything away. But Olivia calmed his inner beast, his demon side. While his demon’s memories had been erased, his own memories of his time with the demon remained. Perhaps that was what made him who and what he was now: for good and for evil. Mercifully, Olivia seemed to be fine with him despite his many faults.

  * * *

  His chest heaved as he came up for air. “God, I love you.”

  “I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of hearing that.”

  “Good, because you’re going to live a long, long time now. You’re going to have to make a new list.”

  She pushed up on her elbows. “My list! I must have left it at the chapel.”

  “Nah, I picked it up. It’s in my pocket.”

  “You saved it?”

  “Yes.”

  “How is it you keep saving it? And me? I would have never finished that list without you. Or almost finished it, anyway.”

  “You did finish it.” He smoothed her hair off her face and framed her head with his palms.

  “No. I had one left. The last one.”

  “Number 60, save a life? What do you think you did when you sliced off Camael’s head like a pumpkin? You saved my life. Not once but twice. You saved me the first time we met. I was dead inside, Olivia. If not for you, I still would be. I can’t lose you again.” He pressed his forehead to hers.

  “You won’t. I promise.” She pulled his hips down and arched up against him, pressing her core against his hard heat. “We’ll make a new list together. Let’s start with this.”

  Kylen groaned against her breast and nipped at her with his teeth. He pressed against her slick core and pushed into her like a blade into a sheath. She was exquisite. Her heat wrapped around him, and her walls tightened against him, holding him inside. When she released, he drew back out, and then plunged into her again. She arched against him and pushed herself down the bed, driving him deeper into her.

  Clutching her shoulders, he pinned her into place and held her as he found a rhythm and drove into her again and again. She clawed for purchase at his back and held onto him as he slid one big hand under the small of her back to press her
full body against his. Blue light sizzled between them, and Kylen was sure the dormers must be glowing like fire from the outside.

  He couldn’t believe that Olivia wanted him as he was: broken and raw and ruined. Hope flared like a beacon in his chest, but its nemesis, doubt, wasn’t far behind. How could he ever keep her safe enough?

  With her new lease on life, he knew she’d be more than ready to live again. Even though she was strong and nearly invincible, she wasn’t completely invincible. How long before Camael or something or somebody else came after her again? He pushed those thoughts away.

  All they could count on was the here and now. He was going to have to learn to live in it, one way or another. Shattering beneath him, she compressed her muscles around his shaft and squeezed his own release from him. He came inside her again and filled her with blue light, his essence, and a prayer for her long, long life.

  And, selfishly, his own.

  Chapter Forty-One

  When Maeve felt the pull of newly dead souls from her watch station by Ruth’s bedside, she knew they were in trouble.

  “Whoa, do you feel that?” Ruth asked, struggling to sit upright in the bed.

  “Yeah.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “This many souls simultaneously in need of reaping? Disease. War. Disaster. In light of the current demon problem, I’m betting on disaster. The demon variety.”

  “God help us.”

  “That would be nice for a change.” Maeve moved to the doorway and pulled it open a crack, the bright light of the hallway filling the gap.

  Outside Ruth’s room, orderlies and nurses continued with their normal busy hustle and bustle, oblivious to the coming threat, until the overhead intercom system sounded a series of sirens.

  “This is a Code Black: Dangerous Intruder Alert. Repeat, a Code Black: Dangerous Intruder Alert. Please find a room and barricade all doors until the All Clear is sounded.”

  Maeve watched for a moment as the staff spurred into action, and then closed their door. Dragging all the furniture she could move over to the doorway, she stacked it into a pile against the entrance. It was a ridiculous defense. One that would stop only the laziest of humans. Certainly not a determined demon.