Reaping the Immortal

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Reaping the Immortal Page 14

by Pamela Labud


  But now more than ever, she knew that had been her worst mistake. She'd chosen the wrong profession and had no one to blame for it but herself. And now, realizing it had suddenly set something right inside her.

  Deep down, she realized she'd known it all along. And she suspected Renault had known it as well. Was it possible he'd been planning this for decades? That he'd manipulated her to keep her in the job so that he could later make her part of his plans in his quest for power?

  "How could I be so stupid?" she asked the silent car.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by someone beating on the car window. Looking up, she saw Matty standing there, his face bearing the same moist sheen that had covered Max, and even under the dim streetlight, she saw that he had paled as well.

  Rolling down the window, she looked into the eyes that were so like and yet unlike Max's. "We need to get this car out of sight."

  He nodded and pointed her to a copse of trees just past the driveway.

  "My neighbor won't mind us using his shop."

  Nodding, Holly put the car back in gear and slowly drove around behind the trees to see a small garage off to the side of the property.

  Ten minutes later, she had it parked was opening the car door, doing her best to keep a limp, unconscious Max from plummeting to the ground.

  "I need help," was all she managed before both of them fell backwards. Max rolled out and was now slumped into her lap, his arms and legs akimbo.

  "Right."

  Just then, Holly heard the roar of a motorcycle engine growing in the distance. She and Matty were struggling to get Max off of Holly, when the bike pulled into the drive way. The figure that stepped forward was that of a tall, slender woman. Dressed in a black leather jacket and pants, wearing knee-high boots and a black helmet, the woman climbed off the machine and walked over to them.

  Werewolf.

  Holly had not Reaped any magical beings being assigned to humans primarily, but like any magical being, she knew others when they approached. Were-beings, Witches, Warlocks, Fae and the like were as clear to her senses as the flowers or trees.

  Having been raised alongside and later working amongst the Magics, the one race that put a hitch in her chest was the werewolf.

  "Matty? What is it? What's wrong?"

  "Hey, baby. I'm so glad you came. Things are bad. Very bad."

  "Max?" she asked as she knelt on Max's opposite side. "What's wrong with him?" She looked up at the twin. "With them?"

  Before Holly could speak, Matty cleared his throat. "She's Max's new squeeze. Came here to Reap him, um, us."

  "That true?"

  Holly let out a breath. "In the beginning, yes. But not now. My former mentor has gone insane. He's trying to pull in the power of the Immortals to add to his own. We're not sure what he means to do with it. Kinda crazy."

  "I see."

  "Can you help us get him inside? He's very heavy."

  Just then, thunder sounded and in the distance the landscape lit up with lightning."

  "Is that the guy?" Matty asked. "Is he coming for us now?"

  "Calm down," the Werewolf snapped. "It's a storm coming. Saw it on the weather channel."

  "Right. We should get him indoors." Matty started to stoop down but the woman put out her hand.

  "I've got this."

  Then, like she was lifting an infant from the ground, she slid her hands under Max picked him up.

  "Wow," Holly muttered, suddenly free of his weight.

  "Let's go," she said, turning toward the house without waiting for them.

  Matty started to falter just as Max had earlier. Scrambling to her feet, she took hold of him and threw his arm over her shoulder to help him stay upright. Following in the werewolf's footsteps, they made it into the house, through a small kitchen and into the main living room.

  "Over there," the werewolf said pointing to a chaise as she gently laid Max on the sofa.

  Doing as she was told, she helped the twin to settle.

  "Thanks, babe. I knew you'd come."

  "Ha," the woman scoffed. "If I hadn't gotten the call from the witch I wouldn't have known. And, for the record, I'm doing this for your brother, not for your worthless hide."

  "She really is crazy about me," Matty grinned. "Just doesn't want to admit it."

  "Right."

  Holly turned to the Werewolf. "I'm Holly Dent." She held out her hand and waited while the other woman pulled off her helmet and jacket. Hair as black as midnight and jade colored eyes, she was the classic werewolf beauty.

  "Fiona O'Malley." She took Holly's hand and gave it a too tight but thankfully brief handshake. "So, you're the Reaper girl that's finally turned ol' Max's head, huh?"

  Holly felt her face heat up and suddenly she was back in high school, mooning over her latest crush. Still, she straightened her spine and faced the other woman.

  "Good. He needs somebody. And if you're here protecting him, that means you're probably the one."

  "I hope we have long enough to find out."

  Fiona nodded. "You're safe enough for the time being. Though, if this guy is strong enough to threaten these guys, then you might want to be coming up with a plan."

  That was the rub, Holly thought. "I'm not strong enough to take him face on." She glanced over to Max. "And, I made a promise," she began.

  "Whatever you do," Matty said, struggling to stay upright. "Can you fix this spell the old rat put on us?"

  "That is something I can do." She went to Max's side and knelt. Placing her hand on his cool, damp brow, she couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion — fear, anger, hope and love. But none of that would help her with the task ahead.

  "Can you make some tea and something to eat? This is a very draining procedure and once the men are settled, they'll need some food and drink as well."

  "On it," Fiona said, pulling out her cell phone. "I personally don't cook, but I can have food delivered — I own the local tavern. Sustenance will be arriving shortly."

  Once she'd turned away, Holly went to work.

  The transfer of power was a simple thing, and one of the few Reaper duties that she excelled at. As a rule, people thought when you died, you just diminished, or faded into nothingness. But, many times people in poor condition rallied at the last moment. When a doctor or nurse said someone needed to 'get better to die,' it wasn't always in jest.

  And when they needed help Holly was there. What Max and his brother needed more than anything was her strength. Thankfully, that was one thing that she had in abundance.

  Taking Max's hands in both of hers, she began to chant, the words drawing forth her inner power, hoping beyond hope it would be enough to make him better.

  His words returned to her. "You're an empath. You take on the pain of others and make it your own."

  "Give me your pain," she whispered to him and then opened herself to him.

  #

  "The blasted bowels of Beelzebub!" Renault shouted across the small hotel room. "Who the devil do they think they are, daring to cross a Reaper of the first level?"

  Cravens pushed into the room, arms laden with ointments, oils and new bandages. "She scorched your best robe, my lord. I'm doing what I can to repair it..."

  The old Reaper waved his hand. "As if I care for such things. Get me one of the older ones. I need to eat and renew my strength. Witches are such dirty fighters. Came at me when I wasn't expecting it. Wait until I finish with the Immortals. Then no one will be able to cross me again."

  His servant bobbed his head and the sight of him only added to Renault's fury. He was sore and was burning at his humiliation. The urge to strike out at Craven was almost overwhelming, but for now he needed his minion.

  Thirty minutes later, after eating and drinking some strong tea, the old Reaper regained some of his strength. "It won't be long now," he told his servant. "And I will dispense with them all."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Having
lived a very long time, and having never in all that time ever been unable to lose himself so completely, when Max felt Holly's strength ebbing into him, it was a completely new experience. One moment he was lost in velvet darkness, his thoughts extinguished like the wick of a candle. His soul without existence.

  He'd been floating in a tunnel of nothingness and she'd extended a line to him. He felt much like an astronaut floating in zero-G. She was his tether and thankfully, the stronger her power got, the closer she could pull him.

  And, suddenly, there she was. Talking to him with words he didn't understand. But the sound of her voice caressed his senses, awakening them one by one until he was almost fully returned to himself.

  "There you are, sleepyhead," Holly muttered over him. "Welcome back to the world of the living."

  He sent her a weak smile. "How long was I out?"

  "Awhile," she said. "But not to worry, you’re back now."

  He looked around the room and saw his brother on the chaise. "Oh. How long has he been out?"

  "Not as long as you, but close. He started showing symptoms not long after we got here. Renault has to be stopped."

  "You have no argument from me."

  "But we can't do it here. In our realm, he has more power than we do."

  Max shook his head to clear it. "But you're a Reaper. If what you say is true, that means we have no hope."

  He watched her let out a breath, her spirit seeming to diminish as she did so. "Physical power? He is older and of a different class than me. Our powers are more uneven because of the type of subjects we Reap. He was a Reaper of the first class, which means he dealt with the most powerful of Magics. Whereas I have more flexibility than he does because I generally Reap those of lesser power, but which are far more mainstream."

  Max watched her expression. "What about in determination? Are you more stubborn than he is?"

  That comment took her by surprise. "What do you mean?"

  "I know you can't tell it now, with me in this weakened condition, but I'm a pretty braw fighter myself. Hand to hand, fist to fist, sword to sword, none of that mattered to me. I would take any challengers, even those that were bigger and meaner. I won every time."

  "Of course you'd survive. You're an Immortal."

  He laughed. "But that didn't mean I didn't feel the impact of every fist, the cut of every blade. Sure, I lived, but it wasn't always a picnic. I took my share of beatings resulting in broken bones, bruised muscles, and damaged organs. None of which are very pleasant to endure."

  He hadn't meant his tone to become morose, but he wanted her to know that though it seemed he'd lead a charmed existence, it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  "You've suffered," she said at last. "I've known so many who'd begged for death to come. I'm sorry."

  Her sincerity went right through to his heart. She truly did understand his plight. Thankfully, he wasn't the sort to dwell on his own life's misfortune.

  Shrugging, he waved her off. "My point was that there was one thing that helped me win contests against those bigger, stronger and better fighters than I." He leaned forward and waggled his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  "What's that?"

  "I refuse to give up."

  She blinked at that. "Is that all?" She laughed, then covered her mouth, obviously surprised by her own reaction.

  He nodded. "I know it seems simplistic and I'd be laughing too, if I didn't know it to be the truth."

  She eyed him for a moment. "I don't doubt you. It's just, Renault is not your usual opponent. And his magic is so much stronger than mine. I doubt I could best him."

  "I don't doubt you." He leaned forward, gently caressing her chin. "From the moment you showed up on my doorstep, I suspected you were a most determined lady. You won't go down without a fight. And, fighting is something I know about."

  She hesitated, looking down at her hands for a moment. He could feel the struggle boiling inside her. Clouds gathered outside and the room darkened.

  The pall didn't last, and gradually the clouds outside cleared and sunlight returned.

  "I'm not sure I believe you, but I believe in you. I promise I won't give up, no matter what the cost."

  He hadn't realized it before that very moment how much he adored her. Fascinated by her magnificent emerald gaze, drawn even closer by her scent of wildflowers and warm moist breath upon his cheek.

  "I want to kiss you, again," he said, surprised by the urgency of his desire.

  He felt her sigh deep in his soul.

  She surprised him by pulling back. "I want you to, believe me. But..."

  His heart froze in his chest. Did she not want the same?

  "What?"

  "It's not a good time. We're going to need all of our strength if we're going to beat him."

  Relief flooded through him. She wasn't rejecting him outright. Max chuckled.

  "You're right, but it's going to be tough to wait. On the other hand, getting the chance to kiss you is going to shore up my determination that once this is over, you and I have some serious catching up to do in the romance department."

  "Oh," she said, her face turning a most pleasant pink. So sweet was her embarrassment, that Max vowed right then and there to stay alive if only to see the pleasing color as often as possible.

  "Now, as to the defeating Renault part," he said, clearing his throat. "There is one thing I insist you agree to."

  "Which is?"

  "You have to stay alive. I'll not have you sacrificing yourself for me."

  She shook her head, her color now deepening even further as her anger became evident. "You've no right to tell me what to do." Then, suddenly realizing what he was saying, she pulled back. "Of course, I have no intention of doing anything so foolish. But, if you go down, we go down together. And, it's my choice, not yours."

  He pulled her close once again. "Don't misunderstand me. I'm not planning on running into the abyss all willy nilly. I'm going to fight to stay alive right beside you. But, if it looks like you can't win, like we can't win, then fate must be allowed its reign. You're young with what I hope to be an eternity ahead of you. I've lived a very long time."

  "Max, please," she began.

  He held up his right hand. "On this, I'm solid. You are not allowed to die."

  Holly was about to speak, but before she could, a loud moan sounded from the other Immortal in the room.

  "Seriously? Do you have to keep going on like that?" he groaned. "Just get busy saving us, Reaper girl."

  "Matty," Max growled.

  "No," Holly said. "He's right. We really don't have time to argue."

  The front door swung open and their hostess stepped through. "I just got a call from one of my guys on the watcher's post. There is a whole bunch of magic energy headed this way. I think your crazy Reaper enemies are headed out this way."

  Icy fear stabbed into Max's heart — a pain not for himself, but rather for Holly. She pushed away from him and stood up.

  "It's time to face our enemies. Let's get going. I need my scythe and my familiar." With that, Holly straightened her clothes and stepped past Fiona, walking to the door.

  Stunned for only a moment, Max jumped to his feet. "Let's go guys. Time is of the essence."

  Matty scratched his head. "Now, that's something you don't hear from an Immortal every day." He paused. "Or, ever."

  "I think she's pretty serious," Fiona said beside him. "You better get going, Maxi. I'm afraid she's going to leave you behind. Matty and I will be right behind you."

  "Right."

  Max heard his brother hiss behind him. "Wait. Does this mean we're a couple again?"

  "Shut up," Fiona said behind him.

  Sure enough, he had to quick step to get to the car just as she brought the engine to life. A few seconds later he was seat-belted into the passenger's seat and headed into what was likely going to end in his death.

  Despite that, he cou
ldn't help the thrill of fighting at her side. The stakes were high but deep in his marrow he knew that if anyone could save them both, it was Holly.

  Live or die, he was grateful for whatever time they had together and he meant to make the most of it. No matter what the cost.

  #

  It was well after dark when they pulled into the funeral home's parking lot. The front door that suffered damage during Renault's attack had been boarded up with plywood and the fragmented glass was cleaned up. A pang of regret went through Holly. The stately home had been so beautiful and it hurt to see it so molested.

  "Max," she said quietly, gently touching his sleeve.

  Though she was sure he didn't want to admit it, the Reaper's attack had taken a far deeper toll than he let on. They'd barely been on the highway ten minutes before he fought to keep from falling asleep. She'd urged him to rest, telling him that he needed as much strength as possible if they were going to survive the confrontation. He'd been hesitant, but the low jazz she played on the car radio, and the tedious miles slipping by had done the trick. Before they were a mile out of town, he slipped into quiet slumber until she roused him again.

  "Hmm?" His eyes fluttered open and in the next moment, panic covered his expression as he shook out of sleep-induced confusion.

  "It's okay. We're back." She pointed to the funeral home.

  He let out a breath, relaxing back into his seat and rubbing his eyes. "Already," he muttered. "That didn't take long."

  "No. And, I don't feel any energy surges nearby, so we should be okay to run inside and grab my stuff."

  "Right." He moved to open the door but she held out her hand.

  "I'll get them. You wait here and rest up."

  He touched her arm and she felt his breath come out in a rush. "Don't be too long," he said.

  "I won't," she said.

  Heart pounding, she slid out of the car and made her way up the front steps. Nearly midnight, the sky above was clear, but her fear stirred the atmosphere, and by the time she reached the front door, the sky filled with clouds, making the darkness feel all the more oppressive around her. Fortunately, she didn't need much light, since her own internal senses were acute. A few minutes more, and she had the tools that helped concentrate her magic — her scythe and her familiar.

 

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