Reaping the Immortal

by Pamela Labud

  Roundel licked his lips. "There was a complaint made, by your own underling, by the way."

  "Granted, she was not as malleable as I thought. Definitely a disappointment, that one."

  "Right. Well, now we have to take our time. After the Benson affair, the councilors are very hesitant to make a rash decision. I mean, it all looks good on the surface, sure, but what if there were extenuating circumstances?"

  "Extenuating circumstances? You are part of the most powerful organization in the entire realm of magic and you're sniveling in fear, telling me you're worried about a little lawsuit?"

  "You don't understand. It's not like the old days. We're under so much public scrutiny these days."

  Renault had had enough. He slammed his fist on the table. "We had an agreement, you spineless weasel. I help you put away your counterparts and give you full lead of the High Council and you bring me out of retirement. Has that changed?"

  Roundel paled. "No. Of course, not. It's just that we'll have to find another way. Sacrificing the Immortal isn't going to be enough. You'll have to come up with another plan."

  "I see," Georges ground out. "It's to be that way, is it?"

  The other man spread out his hands in front of him. "I understand your frustration. Believe me, I share in it. I wish there was more I could do."

  Georges crossed his arms. He'd had his doubts about his reluctant partner's abilities. He'd withered at the first hint of trouble.

  Very well then, he thought. "Not to worry," he told Roundel. "I'll manage it." Finishing the last of his drink, Renault stood up.

  Roundel let out a nervous breath. "Excellent. What are you thinking?"

  "I'd rather not say right now. I need to flush it out a bit first. Good day."

  With that, he left his former accomplice to finish his drink.

  He waved to his servant as he got into the cab. "Plans have changed."

  "Master Renault?"

  "I'm not going to just come out of retirement. I'm going to rid our guild of those weak-willed ninnies we call a High Council and take control of it myself."

  "Heads are gonna roll, are they?"

  "They are indeed," Renault said. "I'm going to end them, once and for all."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  "What's the matter, Max? You don't have what it takes to put me down?”

  Max stood stone still, staring at his twin. He very much did have what it took, and then some. But, once again, he had to ask himself, to what purpose?

  Other than maximum enjoyment, that was.

  The two were standing practically nose to nose in the main living space of the small cottage that Matty rented. A typical 'bachelor's pad' it was basically one large room, with a walk-in closet on one side and a half bath on the other. Between the two was a small kitchen and directly across from that was the front door. The rest of the place was crowded with an oak table and chairs on one side and a three-piece leather sofa set. Dominating the far wall was a sixty-inch flat screen television that hung above a faux fireplace. Of course, the decor was completed by Matty's clothing strewn about the room, draping all the furniture and most of the floor. The final touch was a sink full of dirty dishes that, judging by the odor that emanated from the kitchen, had been forgotten for some time.

  "I don't want to put you down, Matty. You're not a dog and I'm not the bad guy here. You betrayed me. I want to know why."

  That seemed to set him back. Suddenly he paled and his eyes widened. "What are you accusing me of, exactly?”

  By the tone of his brother's voice, Max realized that Matty wasn't as vigorous as he should have been for his own defense.

  "I think you know," he said, crossing his arms. If the situation did escalate, he was more than willing to go back to his boxer's pose. "But, in case you need reminding, somebody alerted the High Council to my involvement with a certain French officer."

  If Matty was pale before, now he was practically translucent.

  "Yeah," he gulped in a deep breath. “About that. It wasn't intentional."

  "Not intentional? three centuries later and I'm being Reaped because of it and it wasn't intentional? What, you tripped and accidentally told them all about my past?”

  "You don't understand," Matty said. "They had me cornered."

  "Who?"

  He rubbed his eyes. "It's better if I don't say. I got into a little financial tangle and needed some fast cash, um, and then when I couldn't pay them back..."

  "With whom did you get into a 'little tangle'?”

  Matty crossed his arms over his abdomen and looked down at his feet. "The Wharton clan."

  Max stepped back, suddenly understanding his brother's desperation. The Whartons were a powerful family of warlocks who operated one of the biggest organized crime businesses this side of the Atlantic. Gambling, racketeering, and corruption, they'd been on the major watch lists for years. It was said one of their founding members was the nephew by marriage to a member of the High Council, Master Roundel.

  No wonder his brother sold him out. It wasn't just a few broken bones he faced, but torture of a different sort — being labeled as an enemy to the Whartons made you open season to any half-Magic cowboy out there. They were known to run competitions on who could inflict the most damage before the kill. Worse than that, they didn't just stop at the perpetrator. Everyone he'd ever known, befriended, and even loved became targets too.

  "They took payment in another form."

  "Evidently, Master Roundel paid your debt."

  He shrugged. "Most of it. Anyway, it's nothing for you to worry about. Well, except for the Reaper thing."

  "They're going to take me unless I can figure out a way to earn a full pardon."

  "If anybody can get one, it'll be you, brother." Matty held out his hands. "They already overlooked it once."

  "I don't even know why they let it pass the first time. He was a human and I killed him. End of story."

  "It was a mistake. There was no way you could have known he wasn't an Immortal."

  "They've never made mention of it in all this time. I assumed that my case was dismissed."

  "Maybe you can ask them?"

  As simple of an idea as it was, Max thought perhaps the direct approach was the best. "You mean request an audience."

  "It can't hurt, can it?"

  Matty sighed. "At worst I'll be detained until the judgement comes down. If I'm found guilty and they choose to end me, that means there'll be no escaping for either of us."

  Matty nodded. "It's a risk, true enough, but this won't go away. Your best shot is to confront them."

  "How did you become so wise, little brother?"

  Matty shrugged. "Like it or not, I think you're rubbing off on me. Never thought that would happen."

  Max chuckled. "I'll ask them to spare you. I'm not sure if it's possible, but I suppose it won't hurt to ask."

  "I agree, but I appreciate the sentiment, just the same."

  Max spread out his hands. "It's the least I can do."

  Matty walked over to his brother and grasped his shoulder. "Hey. If anybody can get us out of this alive, it's you."

  "Why?"

  Matty chuckled. "Because, that's what you do, Maxi. It's just what you do."

  "You make it sound like fate."

  Matty shrugged. "Fate-schmate. It's who we are. I screw things up and you fix 'em, big brother."

  "Since you've fulfilled your part of the bargain, it looks like it's my turn to step up."

  With that, he turned around and left the cottage. Before he 'turned himself in,' Max had a few things to take care of first. Papers had to be filed and notices had to be sent — just in case things went south.

  Max looked in his rear-view mirror once as he pulled away from the house. His twin had followed him outside and now watched him leave.

  A sobering thought occurred to him. It might very well be the last time he ever saw his brother on this side of the veil.<
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  #

  The car was an older model Cadillac sedan but it had a smooth ride. It was a bright red, two-door dream to drive, and though she'd not done much driving since becoming a Reaper, Holly did enjoy it. Something about cruising around town made her feel carefree and light hearted.

  She'd gone a long time without feeling anything but sadness.

  "That's no way to live," she said and was surprised at the tone of regret in her voice. The next thing she knew, tears started to flow and she was sobbing like she'd just lost her best friend. "What's wrong with me?"

  She gave in to the torrent of tears. It wasn't altogether sadness she felt, though. Thankfully, there was joy in the mix as well. For the feeling of freedom she felt and for the beginnings of hope for a future.

  Things with Max were still up in the air, of course. And, if anything happened to him, she would be crushed. Her feelings were so new and raw where he was concerned, she knew she'd never get over his loss.

  Which made her even more desperate to get things settled. So, that left only one thing to do.

  She had to confront her former mentor once and for all.

  Twenty minutes later she was parked in the Harbor Inn Hotel parking lot. Spanish style, the long lazy design of it with arching doorways made it look like it belonged in another time, another world. It should have been set under tall pine trees covered with low hanging moss. She'd called the hotel earlier and found out which room Master Renault occupied. Time to get her meeting over with.

  Climbing out of the car, she'd no more than set both feet on the ground when she saw his room's door open and him walking through it.

  Her stomach tightened. As a novice Reaper, she'd literally feared him. Even as time went on, her reaction to him had lessened, but there was always that edge in her gut when she knew they would cross purposes.

  "Master," she said, nodding respectfully.

  His face remained expressionless, arms folded into his royal blue robe. It was a startling contrast to the simple attire he'd worn earlier that day. Although no longer a High Reaper, and he owned his ruling garments, by law he was not allowed to appear in public in them unless he'd gotten special permission. And, that was rarely, if ever given.

  Basically, once you were out of the guild, you were out of the guild.

  "Reaper Dent." He barely bobbed his head which was an insult, really. Despite his retired status, as an active Reaper, she was now his superior.

  Holly decided to let it pass. He could spit on her for all she cared, as long as Max was released from his contract.

  "We need to talk," she said, ignoring the inadequacy of her words. "What the Council is doing is wrong. What you're doing is wrong."

  He smiled then, a thin red line that cut through his face. "On that, we don't agree. Since you're so eager to persuade me to change my mind, it would be best not to have our 'discussion' where others might hear it. My room, perhaps?"

  Glancing quickly to the hotel, Holly became aware of two things. First, that going into his hotel room was completely inappropriate and second, who knew what tricks he would be able to pull on her once he had her secluded in there?

  "I think not," she said, clenching her jaw, doing her best to clamp down her anxiety.

  "You don't trust me. Very well, there is a nice little park behind the hotel. Perhaps we could talk there?"

  Holly hesitated. Was it possible he had something else planned for her? She started to refuse but he held is hand up.

  "You've no need to worry. We're alone and it's a straight run back to your rental. And, well, look at me. It's not like I could catch you if you ran away."

  She knew that was a lie. He wore his old man persona as a disguise. Also, his magic was unaffected by his age. While Reapers didn't have the magic of Witches and Warlocks, they had several spells at their disposal. If he wanted to he could attempt a paralysis spell, or a stumbling spell, or even a sleeping spell.

  Of course, Holly was a Reaper, too. Whatever he could throw at her, she was younger and faster. Girding her strength, she nodded.

  "The park is fine."

  He held out his hand to her, but Holly didn't take it. She knew his gesture wasn't genuine.

  It was a nice, shaded area with a playground off to one side and a small goldfish pond on the other side. There was a cleanness in the air and when Holly breathed it, she smelled a mixture of baking apples and cinnamon nearby.

  "Quite a lovely little place," Master Renault said as he motioned her to take a seat across from him at one of the picnic tables.

  "It'll do for our purposes."

  Keep it professional, she told herself. Stay firm and don't let him get ahead of you. Shoulders back, she followed him to the table. Taking long strides, she walked past him without sparing him so much as a glance.

  One thing she knew for sure was that seeing him here now could only mean that he'd interests in Max's Reaping, and why that was, she'd no idea.

  What could he possibly gain from Max's death?

  Was it possible that he had engineered this entire situation?

  Taking a seat with her back to the sun, she crossed her arms and waited. He approached her slowly, arms at his side, wearing an expression of controlled calm. In all the years she'd known him, she'd seen the same expression, no matter the difficulty of the Reaping, no matter the deluge of orders that came down. He met her gaze, without so much as blinking.

  For a moment, she thought he might remain standing. In the back of her mind she remembered others that had looked down on her as well. Parents. Teachers. Bullies. It was a position of power. Very well, she wasn't that impressionable young girl who'd been under his tutelage any more.

  She began to stand up, but he held out his hand and then slowly descended onto the bench.

  "You'll have to excuse me. My old joints don't work as well as they once did."

  Holly eased back to her seat. "What do you want?" she asked.

  Judging by the way he blinked, her direct question surprised him. But he recovered quickly. "I want what's rightfully mine, like anyone."

  "Yours?"

  "Mine." He let out a breath. "I wasn't ready to retire. I have so much left to do."

  It was at that moment that Holly heard something sinister in his tone, noble birthright and entitlement. For the first time, she realized that the man she'd known and trusted all those years was not at all who she'd thought he was.

  "So, to reverse your status, you decided to take the life of an Immortal and pull me into the process as well?"

  Her mentor shrugged. "It's not like you could have done the job yourself. And, the Immortal? Paha! He was living on borrowed time as it was. Sooner or later someone was going to discover the oversight."

  "Oversight? This is a man's life we're talking about." The blood in her veins turned to ice. She'd heard of other Reaper guilds that had been invaded by corruption and had been dealt with accordingly.

  "And you included me in this."

  He waved his hand at her. "I knew you'd never be able to complete the job."

  Anger stirred in her gut. Not because he was so presumptuous but because he was right. She was a mid-level Reaper at best. Still, she'd worked hard and done as good a job as she could have.

  "Never mind that," she said. "To take a man's life so carelessly... How could you?"

  He gave her a puzzled look. "It's what we do? Have I mentored you so poorly, that you don't understand what our life's work is? We are Reapers. We take lives."

  "We help people."

  "We guide the living onto the ethereal plane, into eternity. That's all. We don't befriend them. We don't sympathize with them. We are soul collectors for our guild and nothing more."

  "You're wrong," she started to say, but realized that her words would have no effect whatsoever.

  His smile softened and he reached across the table and patted her hand. "Do you know what your problem is? You're in the wrong profession. You want to
heal people? You want to ease their pain? Then go to medical school."

  The anger in Holly's gut whirled into cold fury. His words resonated with her somehow, but then, she knew it could be his Reaping power had increased somehow. His magic had taken another turn and it wasn't all the puppies and kittens type of magic. In fact, when she calmed her nerves, let her senses focus on his underlying vibes, she felt it. Something rotten. Something evil. Something heinous and detestable.

  And he'd no regard for her life or anyone else's.

  He had to be stopped and she had no idea how to do it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Back at home, Max waited anxiously on Holly's return. As the hour grew later and later, afternoon slipped into evening and there was no sign of her.

  He stood at the window, gazing out into the evening.

  "Need anything before I head home?" Melody asked as she pulled on her jacket. "I finished up the last of the invoices and rescheduled the urn deliveries."

  "No, thanks. I'm good."

  Melody hesitated at the door. "Boss, what's really going on?"

  He sent her a guarded expression. "What do you mean?"

  "You're spending a lot of time with the Reaper lady. Something serious?"

  Max let out a breath. "You could say that."

  "Then why aren't you happier?"

  Happiness. That was a term that Max had never tried to get too close to. Living a long time didn't necessarily mean that one enjoyed all the centuries he was forced to inhabit. It wasn't the sadness of one lifetime, but of many.

  He spread out his hands. "I'm happy enough, I guess. At the moment, I'm enjoying Reaper Dent's company. No matter how things turn out, she's been a gift."

  Melody tilted her head to one side. "I'm glad of that, boss. You deserve happiness, you know. You're not a bad guy."

  He smiled and nodded. "One would think so."

  Max wanted to say more, to explain that he'd not had an easy life, that despite his immortality, he'd pretty much screwed up a lot of it. But, how does one explain oneself to someone who hasn't experienced what it was like to be him?