Reaping the Immortal

by Pamela Labud

  "The High Council missed it, too."

  "They must have been doing some critical information searches and found out what happened."

  "Or, you were betrayed."

  "By who?"

  She looked at him then, and as realization dawned on them both, she wished a lightning bolt would strike her where she sat. Anything rather than speak the truth of it.

  But, she couldn't hold it back.

  "By someone who was there."

  "My brother."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  If it hadn't been for Holly's presence, Max knew he would have lost it. Even though it had been her arrival that had begun his descent into this insanity, it was she who'd become the anchor against the storm that threatened to overtake him.

  What stood in the face of it all was that he'd been betrayed — and by his own brother?

  "A part of me wants to deny it all, of course. But, I know my brother."

  "Why would he do such a thing?" she asked, concern darkening her expression. "I mean, he is family, after all."

  Max shrugged. "It's not in his nature to do such a thing, unless he's backed into a corner. But, then again, his mortality is tied to mine."

  "Then, he's not suspect?"

  Max thought for a moment. "It wouldn't be the first time he's created a problem and then waited for me to fix it.”

  "What are you going to do?"

  He shrugged. "Nothing. He's my brother and I won't lift my hand against him."

  "That's very noble of you," she said, crossing her arms.

  He leaned closer, catching the hint of jasmine and vanilla from her hair. "I take it you're an only child?"

  She shot him a sharp expression. "I am. Why?"

  "Because you don't understand siblings. You always love them, sometimes hate them, often are disappointed or furious with them, but you never give up on them."

  "I suppose it's even more so since the two of you are twins?"

  "Matty is my best friend and my worst enemy."

  Standing up, she began to pace. A part of him was upset at losing her closeness, but another part enjoyed watching her. It was these unguarded moments that he liked her the best. Concentrating on the way she moved, each step as precise as a dancer, he knew she could take flight at a moment notice, or stand steadfast in a fight.

  But, it wasn't just that. He'd watched how she interacted with people. Hers was a touch of firm support and gentle guidance. Which made her perfect for a Reaper, he thought ruefully.

  What would happen if she lost her status because of him? Surely, those traits were necessary for other professions?

  "What would you do if you could no longer be a Reaper?"

  The question caught her cold. "I haven't given it much thought."

  "I'm just saying, with all that's happening, perhaps you should."

  She watched him a moment, at first her expression darkened with suspicion as she was trying to figure him out. But, then, a more thoughtful, unguarded look crossed her features.

  "Help people," she said as though the idea was still forming in her mind. "I guess..."

  "Because that's what you do now. You don't want to create art or build bridges, or even open a bed and breakfast? Nocturne Falls is the perfect place for it, you know."

  He watched as his words struck her and she did all but duck from them. "As for creating anything artful, I can't draw a straight line, I'm tone deaf, and there's a reason I wear mostly black."

  "Okay, no art. I suppose that lets out building bridges?"

  "I can't make wooden blocks stand up." She crossed her arms, daring him to speak otherwise.

  "Hospitality?"

  "Do I look like I have the patience for hospitality?"

  Looking at her at that moment, her green eyes blazing and her copper hair flying in all directions did not lend to a 'come and sit a spell' hostess.

  "Fine. Let's see what your strong qualities are, then."

  "Why do you care?"

  "Because I do. Except for my chaotic relationship with my brother, I have no one that cares about me. If I'm correct, neither do you. I know how that feels and no one should ever be so alone."

  That seemed to send a shock wave right through her. She batted her eyelashes, and he guessed by the way she appeared to try to speak but no sound came out, there was a juggernaut of words stuck inside her.

  "Oh," she said at last, turning away from him. "I'm very sympathetic."

  "Empathetic," he corrected. Touching her shoulder, he turned her back to face him. "I can see that you often feel the pain of those in your care."

  "I do."

  "And you put everyone before yourself, always."

  She bit her lip. "What are you up to?"

  He shrugged. "Just stating the facts."

  "Right. And, what about you?"

  Well, that was a question he wasn't expecting. "What about me? I own a funeral home. It's what I do."

  "I find it odd that you, a man who is supposed to live forever, would choose a career dealing with death."

  "I see what you're doing here. That's a bit uncomfortable, now isn't it?" He waited a second to let the comment pass, but it did not. "Fine. Even for an Immortal, life is not guaranteed. Not dying doesn't include not suffering or not succumbing to depression, anxiety, or pain. It just means you stay alive."

  "Forever," she said, a tinge of emotion in her voice.

  "Forever. Believe me, it's not all it's cracked up to be. You can get tired of living. Especially when people all around you die — over and over again."

  He hadn't meant to have that wistful sound in his voice. He waved her off. "I don't want sympathy, believe me. I know how lucky I am. And, there’s my brother. A lot of Immortals don't have family so it's very rare for there to be twins."

  The Reaper let out a breath. "Look at us. We have it all but we're both miserable."

  That made him chuckle. "Too right. Which brings us back to my problem. What the blazes am I going to do?"

  "For one, you're going to let me help you."

  He held up his hand. "I don't think so. It's too risky for you to get involved. I'll take on the High Council myself. No need for both of us to go down if we can prevent it."

  Suddenly, her emerald eyes grew almost opaque and a red tint lighted her cheeks and the tips of her ears. "You've no need to worry about me. I can hold my own against the High Council, and Master Renault, too. I've been wronged as much as you."

  "Oh really?"

  She stepped forward so that they were practically nose to nose, well, nose to chest. Chin tilted upward, her eyes burning right through is self-sacrificial expression.

  "I was set up to fail. Somebody wants me ruined or possibly even prosecuted. I don't know why, but it's true."

  "Do you think so?"

  "I do. And, I mean to find out who it is."

  He let out a breath.

  It was a dangerous path for an Immortal, but then again, what was the point of living forever if you didn't enjoy any of it? He was a good man. He'd helped many, been a good friend and a fierce warrior. More than that, he'd lived a good life. Didn't he deserve happiness, too?

  "No matter how this ends, if I can, I’ll help you figure it out."

  He meant it, too. For, what was a life where no risks were taken?

  Very simple.

  Death.

  #

  "This is unacceptable!" Master Renault stood white-faced in front of the High Council. "The subject has a clear order for assisted passage. Why is this not being dealt with?"

  The three council members present looked from one to another. One was tall and thin with hair that was the color of spun silver that went down his shoulders to the floor. He was clean shaven with cerulean blue eyes that sparkled like diamonds. The second was shorter, with dark hair cropped close and he wore a beard and mustache trimmed to perfection, his eyes were the shifting colors of hazel and green. And the third was a
woman, with thick strawberry blond hair that gathered in waves around her head and floated like angelic feathers. But her eyes were as black as onyx and her skin pale as porcelain.

  "What is your complaint, Georges?"

  Renault bristled at the lack of respect they showed him.

  "There is a clear order to Reap this man. I demand to know why it's not being done."

  The woman, tilted her head to the side. "And this is your concern, why?"

  "A former student of mine contacted me for guidance when he resisted her attempts to take him. I'm a highly-decorated Reaper with centuries of experience..."

  "Who has been retired for decades."

  "Not by choice," he ground out. "I've stayed away. Remained in exile, as I've been ordered."

  The tallest one nodded. "Not exile," he said. "Retirement. You were given a generous retirement package. You should be content with that. You've the entire world to do with as you please."

  "What pleased me was doing my job. But, I'm not here to argue that. I'm only here to assist my former student."

  The councilman who'd remained silent the entire time cleared his throat. "The matter of the Reaping of Maximillian Hyland is under review. A complaint has been lodged and before we can allow the Reaping to continue we must make sure we have given it every consideration."

  "How long will that be?"

  The woman sighed. "We cannot predict that. Unless the subject relinquishes his inquiry and submits to the Reaping, we cannot proceed. Presently, the Reap is on hold."

  The screen went blank. "Typical, bureaucrats," he spat. It was clear that he was going to get no help from them. He would have to convince Holly to give him the Immortal's Reap.

  "Any luck?" his servant asked. He was carrying in a tray with a cup of tea, steaming and filling the room with an aroma of cinnamon.

  "No chance that the damn council will knuckle under. No, I'm going to have to go after Holly. Trouble is, she's not the weak-willed ninny that she once was. Stood up to me as if I were the underling and she the master."

  "What will you do?"

  "Convince her that the Immortal is not who or what she thinks. He's a killer."

  "How will you do that?"

  He smiled for the first time since he'd been tossed from the funeral home. "By showing her the truth, that's how. Once she learns how despicable he is and how he needs to be put down, she'll have to understand."

  "She will?"

  "Yes. Even if she doesn't, it's of little matter. He's too strong for someone at her level. She must give him to me. And, when she does, it won't be an easy time for him. I'm going to make sure of that."

  "If anyone can, it's you, Master Renault."

  "I've a list of things I need you to do. When you've finished, come back here and I'll set things in motion. Now, I've some calls to make."

  No matter what the High Council commanded, nor what Reaper Dent had to say about it, he would take the Immortal down and when everyone knew what he'd done, the power would be his. No one would be able to deny him his place on the Council. Once all was done, he would make them pay for how they'd treated him. From his former student, to the soon to be former High Council.

  They would regret how they'd treated him to their very last breaths. He would make sure of it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Holly watched Max work through the last of his journal. "I need to go through some things," she told him. "I'll be upstairs. When you finish what you're doing, perhaps we could order in?"

  He looked up from his book. "Of course. I've got two more volumes to get through and then we can decide what we want for dinner."

  Just then a knock sounded at the door and Max's assistant poked her head in.

  "Hey boss, Mac Lemore and his are here for their appointment."

  He let out a breath. "I'm sorry. I must go see to them. They're planning their uncle Joe's funeral."

  "Oh, has he passed away recently?" She wondered if she could have been any help to the family.

  "No, not yet. Though to hear him tell it, he's been dying for the last five years. But, he wants to make sure everything is to his exact specification."

  "A little controlling, is he?"

  Max grinned. "He's been running his family since he was a boy in short pants. He wants to run everything, including where I order the flowers from and how I set up the itinerary at the gravesite."

  "Is he a Magical?"

  "No, but I wish he was. I could go another five hundred years before I bury him. He's kind of a swell guy."

  "Sounds like it." She sighed. "That's it, funeral guy. I'm out of here. I need to go to the library and do some digging in the law archives. With any luck, we can find a loophole to get us out of this mess."

  He grinned and watched her leave.

  Of course, he knew there were no loopholes. When it came to the High Council and the Immortals, they never gave in. After all, he hadn't been the only Immortal ever to screw up. Still, there was no harm in her trying, either.

  As it was, he did have something to do and he definitely didn't want Holly involved. It was time to get the truth out of the one person he now knew was involved. And, if it involved a little butt kicking to get it done, well, he was all for that.

  He plucked his phone from his pocket.

  "Hey, Melody. Thanks for the diversion. I needed a little alone time."

  "Sure thing boss. Anytime you want me to lie, I'm your girl."

  "That's an uncomfortable thought. And, you did agree to it rather quickly." He couldn't help wondering if there was anything else his assistant had lied to him about.

  He heard her laugh as she clicked off the phone.

  As if fate had taken a hand, his phone rang immediately and he saw a familiar name pop up.

  "Hey, brother. Just the guy I wanted to talk to."

  "Great, Maxi. Because I've got a whole lotta info for you." He laughed. "And boy are you going to be surprised. Stuff is going on, brother dear. You're not going to believe the half of it."

  Max heard the click of his brother hanging up the call. Of course, he didn't want his brother to be a deceitful liar. He remembered when they were boys during the middle ages and their mother rescued them from the Inquisition, virtually pulling them from the fire.

  Even today, he could still smell the smoke, hear the crackling of the wood piled around the two of them.

  Sadly, his mother didn't manage to escape. Having never known their father's identity, Max and Matty had been given to the care of an elderly woman who'd been his mother's maid back when she'd been living as a consort to a wealthy landowner.

  Growing into men, the two had had long discussions about their father. All their mother had told them was that their sire had been a very powerful warlock and that before the boys had been born, he'd discovered their immortality.

  At the time, it had been considered a blessing and a curse, but now Max suspected it was more a result of a genetic mutation rather than Magic. He'd learned that much during his scientific phase, which had led him to become a funeral director.

  Sighing, he got up from his desk and carefully put his journals way, turning the key in the library's lock, and made his way downstairs. Holly wouldn't be gone long and he'd much to do. Because their future was so uncertain, he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.

  "Shall I start dinner, Mr. Max?" Cook asked him as he reached for the front door handle.

  "I'm not sure when I'll be home. Just make sure there's something quick and easy. Soup and sandwiches, maybe. Or, perhaps some stew that even I can heat up. Or, whatever Ms. Dent would like, but nothing elaborate."

  "Yes, sir." The older woman sighed. A great grandmother, the servant loved treating him like one of her grandchildren — who had grown and moved away.

  Now, to see to his brother. All the way he recited his usual litany of reasons he shouldn't beat the living daylights out of his twin.

  It would have bee
n all too easy to take his frustrations out on Matty.

  But, Max was no longer fighting battles with his fist or his sword. Not even with more modern weapons that were now so easily available.

  He fought only with words these days and lucky for him, over the years he'd become quite adept.

  And of course, when it came to his twin, in a battle of wits, Matty was generally unarmed. Which was a good thing, because if he'd been any other way, Max might not have been able to resist at least punching him in the nose.

  Max still owed him one from the last time when Matty had given a traffic cop Max's name to avoid a 'driving while impaired' ticket. When the police came knocking on his door with the arrest warrant after Matty failed to appear in court, it was clear he was not the same man, but they still had to take him in and he'd had to prove that he wasn't the guy they'd taken into custody that night.

  Well, maybe he deserved one punch...

  #

  "This is an unexpected visit, Master Renault,” the short, round man said. He looked around furtively. "This is dangerous, us meeting like this."

  Renault slid into the booth across from one of the High Council's oldest sitting Council members. Master Marcus Roundel wiped his damp brow with a trembling hand.

  "Things have changed, and you well know it. Besides, it's so dim in here one would have to be an owl to identify me. I've read the room. No one here cares about us."

  They were seated in Mage's Bar, catering to the more 'magical' of palates. The place had a virtual witch's brew of delights for spirits.

  "What is it you want?"

  Renault considered the desperate man in front of him. Short, round, balding, possessing the second highest position of the Reaper's guild though he looked more like an accountant than a powerful Mage.

  "The Council's not going to back my play."

  The other man waved his hand. "Of course they are, you fool. It'll just take some time."

  "Time? How much time? I'm tired of rotting away in the frozen north while you all sit on your laurels arguing what to do with the Immortal."