“Anubis knew one day Set would escape,” said Barbie.
“True,” agreed Rath. “All the gods knew. Maat gave the prophecy just days after Set was captured.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“You’re not the only one with access to the reaper histories,” said Rath. He smirked. “Have you even opened the book yet?”
“You know about the book?”
“I’m a reaper, brown eyes. Plus, I saw it in your room. It was on the floor, holding your closet door open.”
“What book?” asked Ally.
Barbie glanced at me. “He was in your room? Doing what, exactly?”
“The Secret History of the Reapers,” I said, ignoring Barbie’s questions. “Anput gave it to me.” I narrowed my gaze and glared at Rath. “And I’ve been reading it.”
He lifted one black brow, his smirk widening.
“You have some kind of awesome reaper book and you’re using it as a doorstop?” Ally asked. If there was anything that made her little geeky heart palpitate—it was the prospect of a reading a dusty old tome, even one that looked like an anvil and weighed a ton.
I held up my hands in a “stop” gesture. “Move on, people. We have more important things to worry about.”
“Fine,” said Ally. “Why can’t the gods fight Set and leave us humans out of it?”
“Yeah. We see how that worked out for the last war,” I said. “Anubis gifted the humans with magic for a reason.” I looked at Ally. I knew her brain worked ten times faster than my own.
“Protection,” she offered. “Power in numbers. Or rather, power in intact souls. Some humans get magic—with the intent of helping the reapers stop Set for round two.” She glanced at me. “But … that still doesn’t explain Molly being the Kebechet.”
“Molly’s half-god,” said Rath. “She’s got the strength and power of Anubis, the magic of a full reaper, and the thoughts and actions of a human. To win against Set, we need both gods and humans. Molly’s the bridge between the two worlds.”
“Awesome,” I said. I was the daughter of Anubis, and I was supposed to be the one to save the human race.
We were in serious trouble.
The whole impending doomsday scenario seemed so huge that I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. The truth was that for all my “yeah, I’m meeting my destiny” thinking, I was afraid. Terrified. On the verge of a panic attack every other second. I sucked in a breath and blew it out heavily. Rath reached over and gripped my shoulder. His support (and okay, his touch) calmed me down. It also caused my sister and my friend to stare a little harder at me. Barbie waggled her eyebrows.
Oh, I knew what she was thinking.
Like having boyfriend drama was more important than end-of-the-world planning. Look, I didn’t want to die, but I wasn’t scared of death. I’d actually been on the other side—well, as far as I could go. For humans, transformative death was leaving your mortal vessel and elevating your consciousness into a different reality. Real death was complete obliteration. It was not thinking, feeling, existing ever again.
If I completely disappeared because Set gobbled up my soul like a Hershey’s chocolate kiss, then I was truly dead.
“Let’s not focus on the big picture,” said Ally. “Let’s focus on a smaller problem. How can we help Aunt Lelia?”
That wasn’t exactly a small problem.
“I can help,” said Barbie.
“You know a sheut heka?” asked Rath.
“Sorta.” She looked at me, and then looked away. She offered a small sigh. “You trusted me with your secrets, so now I’m going to trust you with mine.” She pulled up her black lace sleeves, showing the thin scars on her forearms. Some looked older than others, the flesh white and puckered. Other cuts looked recent, still pink and puffy.
“You’re a cutter?” asked Ally.
“Not you like think,” said Barbie. “Sheut hekas must make blood offerings to use their powers. A sacrifice is the only way to create or break shadow bindings.” Barbie rolled her sleeves back down. “I’m listed in the rolls as a ka heka. Everyone knows how necromancers feel about sheut hekas. Like we can only do evil, or whatever. My parents and Miss Chiles know about my real heka power … and now you guys.”
“Wow, Barbie,” I said. “That’s … well … holy crap!”
“I’ve had sixteen years to get used to it,” she said. “My parents are the ones who are always super freaked. They worry someone will find out and either make me a bad guy’s evil minion or just kill me.” She looked at us, her gaze serious. “No one else can know.”
“Got it,” I said. “I’m so with you.” I knew exactly how Barbie felt about harboring such a big personal secret. Maybe that’s why she’d come to me about directly instead of including the whole group in a heka intervention. Barbie knew what it was like to be burdened by something you didn’t choose for yourself.
“Can you really free Lelia Briarstock?” asked Rath.
Barbie lifted a shoulder, and her expression revealed uncertainly. “There’s a ritual. But my blood won’t do the trick,” she said. “I need the blood of Lelia’s relatives to call her forth.”
“I’ll give you mine,” I said.
“Wait.” Ally frowned. “You can’t break Lelia’s bond, though, right? If Set bound her to him, you need his blood to free her.”
“Gods don’t have blood,” said Rath. “They’re eternal beings. They can’t be killed because they don’t have vulnerable bodies. They’re made of cosmic energy.”
“My aunt said Set was her master,” I pointed out. “Maybe gods don’t need blood to peel off someone’s sheut.”
“Mol, you’re related to Set,” said Ally. “He’s your … er, Great Uncle, I think. Technically, you have the heredity for both Aunt Lelia and Set.”
I got a cold chill as I was reminded yet again of my bloodline to the god who planned to annihilate humans, reapers, and reality. It was like being told you were related to a serial killer. You feared the genes twined in your DNA. Who knows what would happen if I just … snapped? I could go all machete-crazy on people. The idea was unsettling. And gross. Very, very gross.
“I don’t know anything about releasing a bond between a sheut and a god. There might be a different ritual,” said Barbie. “I’ll have to do some research.”
Maybe I could help with that, too, given my direct line to the god world. I would try to call my father again—Anubis, that is—and if that didn’t work (again), I’d annoy Anput until she showed up.
“Gods don’t have souls,” mused Ally. “If you could kill a god, then they would disappear, too. Just like the wounded souls that get eaten at the limbo buffet.”
“You can’t kill Set,” said Rath. “The best we can do is to weaken him enough to imprison him again.”
“What? So he can wait another 5,000 years to try again?” asked Ally. She shook her head. “There has to be a way to…” She trailed off, scrunching her face as she tried to think of the right word. “Ah! To dissipate his energy.”
“Whoa,” said Barbie. “If we figure out how to kill a god, we are toast. There’s no way the gods would allows humans to have that knowledge. They would fry all of us.” She looked up at the ceiling, as though the gods might be eavesdropping.
“They get to feast on us to replenish their energy, and we don’t get a choice? How is that fair?” demanded Ally.
“It’s not,” I said. “But life’s not fair, Ally. So get over it and focus on what we can do for Aunt Lelia.”
Ally tried to right anything she deemed wrong—no matter the consequence. I’d seen Ally in full furor about zombie civil rights, and right now, she had that same look in her eye. I didn’t think god-killing was a good cause for her to take up. In fact, the idea scared the hell out of me because Ally was nothing if not persistent. And stubborn. And moronic. If I didn’t protect her from stupid herself—she might end up imploded.
“The rest of your aunt’s soul is in limbo,” said Rath qu
ietly. He turned to me, his gaze serious. “If we don’t free her soon and the portal opens up … she’ll become god food along with all the other souls in there.”
As a sheut, Aunt Lelia gone against the demands of her master and used what little power she could gather to warn me and to comfort me. If the only thing I could do for her was free her to go into the heavens—then I would do whatever it took to make sure she had eternal peace.
“Let’s find out everything we can about sheut bindings and how to break them,” I said. “We’ll meet up here tomorrow.”
We all agreed to meet at the home gym around the same time the next evening. Ally offered to walk Barbie to the front door, and Barbie gave me a quick hug before taking the stairs two at a time. My sister followed more slowly, clutching the book to her chest. I knew she would stay up half the night reading through Anubis and The Seventh Warrior, trying to figure out its secrets and spells. And there was the mom factor, too. Ally really didn’t have much—in either memories or mementos—from our mother. No doubt perusing the words written by Cynthia Briarstock would give her some kind of connection to the woman who’d birthed us. Although I had to wonder … did we want that connection?
After my sister and friend departed the gymnasium, I was left alone with Rath. We stood on the work-out mats, an arm’s length apart. I don’t know why, but I felt uneasy. The reoccurring dream I had about Rath and I finding Set’s cage seemed to interrupt my sleep every night. The whole thing was so intense. “You ready for tomorrow?” he asked.
“Ugh. Don’t remind me.” Despite everything going on in my life, I was still training hard. Tomorrow, the members vying to enter the Kebechet challenge would begin competing to narrow down the prospects. Only six of the Chosen had made it through qualifications. Tomorrow, we would narrow the choices to just two challengers.
I was beginning to worry—just a little—that it might be more than I could handle. Maybe I’d fail at this Kebechet thing. And if I did, would I lose the support of Anubis, too? After all, if I couldn’t win against five others with same skills and training—and me with the advantage of being a god-child—what good would I be as the Kebechet?
Rath stepped forward and took my hands, gently pulling me into his embrace. “You worried about tomorrow?”
“Sorta. Actually, I’m more worried about the final challenge. What if I don’t win?”
“You can’t think like that, brown eyes,” said Rath. “You have what it takes. You’re smart, fast, and powerful. And too stubborn to quit.” He cupped my face and stared into my eyes. “You have to believe in yourself, Molly. You have to believe that you are the Kebechet.”
“Well, I am,” I said. “Anubis said so. And so did the oracle. And Maat’s prophecy.” I sounded defensive, and I flinched at the whiny tone of my voice.
“I’m not talking about other people telling you that you’re the Kebechet,” said Rath. “It’s not like being named prom queen or being voted most likely to succeed. What others say about you is irrelevant. You define who you are. You must believe that you are the champion of the Chosen and that you will lead us to victory over Set.”
“Why didn’t anybody ask me if I wanted to do this?” Yikes. Whine alert! Whine alert! “Destiny sucks.”
“You pledged your service to Anubis,” he reminded me. “Your choice is the same as other necros who have the Anubis dream on their sixteenth birthdays.”
“No, it’s not. You know why? Anubis is my real dad. I’m named in a prophecy. And I’m freaking reaper who’s not dead!” I pushed out of his arms and stomped around, anger and fear brewing noxiously inside me. “You know what else didn’t get mentioned? How about that my family was in danger? Or that my mother is in on this whole thing? Or that Anubis would abandon me?” I curled my hands into fists, and executed a sloppy right cross at the heavy bag. I angled my hand wrong, and pain shimmied down my arm. “Shit!”
“Molly.” Rath covered the distance between us. He lifted my throbbing hand and studied my fingers. Then he pressed his lips against my knuckles. The tingles of pain morphed into sensations far more acute and dangerous, edging into my belly, blooming into a heat that threatened to melt my bones.
Rath pulled me close, draped my arm over his shoulder, cupped my hips and pulled me closer still.
Then he kissed me.
His lips were soft, warm. Maybe his gesture was meant to comfort. Or to make me shut up. But as his lips gently assaulted mine, something foreign and dark stirred inside me.
For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t thinking about my destiny, my doubts, my fears, or my burdens.
I thought only of Rath.
Of now.
Of his lips against mine.
Rath slipped his tongue into my mouth, and I felt an electric shock right down to my toes. His grip on me tightened, and I slipped both of my arms around his neck, my fingers threading through the soft silk of his hair.
One kiss turned into another … and another … and another. I lost the ability to breathe normally, to think rationally, to do anything … anything at all but feel. An unfamiliar yearning rushed through me, leaving in its wake only tingling heat and jumbled thoughts.
What was I doing?
What did I want?
What would happen next?
Rath answered the last question by abandoning my lips and trailing kisses down my neck.
The tender glide of his mouth against my skin left me shivering, and wanting.
My heart tripled its beat.
I’d never experienced anything like this before … oh, wow. Kissing Rath, wanting Rath in this primal way inspired exhilaration and terror.
The idea of having sex was scary, but I wanted more than knowledge gained by awkward conversations and romantic fiction—I wanted real experiences. In one act of physical and emotional connection with Rath, I could shed the last glittering strands of girlhood and embrace the darker truths of womanhood.
Maybe then I would feel prepared for all the other complicated and confusing parts of my life. I could step into the role I’d been born to occupy. I could shed the fears of a child—and gain the wisdom of an adult.
Even as these thoughts raced in my mind, and the rise of emotions tangled with the physicality of lust … oh, yes, lust, I fell deeper still into the sensual spell that Rath weaved with his wandering hands and roaming lips.
“Molly,” whispered Rath. He kissed me softly, drew in a shuddering breath, and pulled back. “We need to stop now.”
My lips felt swollen, and my body ached in an entirely delicious way. “No,” I said, tightening my hands on his shoulders. “Don’t … stop.” I licked my lips. “I’m ready.”
He put his forehead against mine, and closed his eyes. “I’m not, Molly.”
“Rath…”
“Shhh.” He kissed my nose, and then let go of me, taking a full step backward. “You need to stay focused. You’re already scattered enough. You don’t need any more distractions.”
“You’re not a distraction!” I protested. “You’re the only thing that makes sense right now. I need you.”
“That’s the problem,” he said. “You need to be strong on your own. Don’t rely on anyone, Molly, not even me.”
All the heat he’d created with his soft words, his sensual touches just seconds before … turned to ash. Cold seeped through me and my stomach knotted. “What about us?”
His expression shuttered and his gaze went blank. “Think about tomorrow, brown eyes.”
Rath faded into shadow, then into nothingness, an intentional reminder that he wasn’t of this world and because he was not … I could not have him.
Molly’s Reaper Diary
Reaper Relationships
IT’S HIGHLY UNLIKELY you will meet any reapers while you’re training because you’re alive. Reapers populate my life because of my dad, but most of those chosen by Anubis (like you) don’t have to worry about dating etiquette in the afterlife. I’m not sure reapers have down time. I have a lot t
o learn, and it seems time is running out. I fear that I won’t know everything that I need to in order to defeat Set.
But that doesn’t really help you, does it?
I don’t know much about dating, having never really gotten a chance to really go out with my first sorta boyfriend, Rick—before he became a half-alive thrall thanks to my reaper meddling. And the next guy I picked is dead, so you know, way more than just emotionally unavailable.
I think the best advice is to stay away from people who complicate your life, or your death. Reaping souls is serious business, and though I’m a human, I know that reapers are not. They remember many things about being human, but when you’re looking at being an eternal guide for mortals, you’re not exactly worried about feelings.
That may explain why reapers go so hot and cold all the time. Maybe they don’t really feel, or they only ghosts of emotions … shadows of humanity, but nothing real. I wonder sometimes if reapers are just empty inside, they have no fear, but they have no joy, either.
Being a reaper has its perks (walking through walls, easy travelling via the Shallows, the ability to eat anything without gaining an ounce). It also has its downside.
So, what can I tell you about reaper relationships?
Just one thing: Don’t have any.
Loneliness is better than heartbreak.
“There is no gatekeeper between mortals and gods. The separation of the world of men from the world of deities is a purposeful cosmic construction. Reapers are the only ones who can safely seek passage in all planes of existence—and yet does not fully reside in any of them.”
~Secret History of Reapers, Author Unknown
“What kind of soul do you have? One filled with love? One damaged by hate? Your soul is energy, and the energy you create, be it evil or good, will determine your next plane of existence. So the question remains: Where do you want to go after you die?”
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