‘Christ, Tyler. When I saw your car at the compound I thought the worst.’
I pushed against his chest, getting him to release me a little so I could see his face. ‘The worst?’
‘I’ve known all along that some kind of deal was made between Bradbury and Killian to get your body back, I just didn’t know the details. Hoped it would never be an issue. But when I walked in and saw Bradbury standing there, when I know he hasn’t been back in Easton in the last six months, not even for the opening of Riverside Plaza, I thought the time had come when the deal was going to bite all of us in the arse.’
He shook his head, a stunned look in his hazel eyes. ‘Not once did I even consider it was something as far-fetched as an arranged marriage. I feel bad for Bradbury, I really do, especially as his deal brought you back to me.’
His expression turned serious. ‘Did you know he was going to be there, when you headed out to the compound?’
‘I was just as surprised as you were, by all of it.’ I shook my head. ‘I still can’t believe he agreed to an arranged marriage, or to accept Cade as his father.’
‘You do not owe him, or Killian and his daughter, anything. Certainly not a trip to the Underworld to confront the Grim Reaper. Let them sort out their own mess.’
I gave him a rueful smile. ‘Does that mean you’re going to stop investigating the deaths of Killian’s business associates?’
‘That’s different. I’m a homicide detective.’
‘And I’m a reaper. I have to do this.’
His arms tightened around me. ‘Tyler, sweetheart. I’ve held you in my arms when you’ve woken up shaking, soaked in sweat and choking down screams. Coaxed you back when the nightmares threatened to drag you under. The last place you want to be is in the Underworld. The last person you want to face is the Grim Reaper.’
‘Technically, he’s not a person,’ I said, attempting levity despite his words bringing back the horror of nights when my dreams were filled with Jonathon Grimm, the tainted version of the Grim Reaper. They’d happened more frequently in the beginning, interspersed with ones where I hadn’t been able to escape Almorthanos’s thrall, where I became his willing slave and used my talent with aether and skills as a reaper to hurt those I loved.
But it was the dreams where Sam had been in love with Malia, in which he turned away from me to be with Almorthanos’s twisted sister that scared me the most. Not that I’d ever told him about those dreams. And I never would.
Time to change the subject. ‘So, you’re not mad at me for going to Killian about the dead Tr’lirian?’
‘Of course I’m pissed,’ he said with a grimace, ‘and a little disappointed. But I understand why you did it.’
I cocked my head to the side. ‘And that would be…what?’
‘You were protecting me. Unnecessarily, but I guess it’s the thought that counts.’ He gave me a gentle squeeze. ‘Yes, it sucks when I know things and can’t share them with my colleagues because it will expose your secrets or make them think I’m crazy. It also doesn’t sit well with me when I have to hide evidence or look the other way during an investigation. But I’m a big boy. I can handle it. You have to stop trying to shield me from that part of your life. We’re a team.’
I smiled up at him, sure my eyes were shining with tears I was determined not to shed. ‘In that case, partner, how about you help me get out of this body and into the Underworld?’
Within minutes Sam had called the police station to log off for the rest of the day and I stretched out on our king size bed. I fought to relax tense muscles as Sam lounged beside me, eyes closed as I tried to figure out how to shed my physical body.
After half an hour with nothing happening other than my nerves stretching even thinner Sam said, ‘Close your eyes and listen to my voice. You’re on a tropical island, wearing the skimpiest bikini known to man and sipping on an exotic fruit cocktail.’
I huffed out a laugh. ‘That is not helping.’
‘Sure it is,’ he said, voice low and husky, and I realised he was right. The ridiculous image he’d created in my mind had helped ease some of the tension thrumming inside me.
‘Okay, back to the beach. You’re surrounded by the sound of waves, soft and gentle in the background. Now, put your hands on your chest and feel for the cold spot, the part of you that connects to the Underworld.’
I followed his instructions, focusing on the cold spot that warned me when someone was about to die. There, elusive and insubstantial, it lay dormant beneath my hands, waiting for the right trigger. The longer I concentrated on it, the harder it became to hear Sam. The sound of waves he’d generated with his words becoming a heartbeat, matching its beat to mine. Cold blossomed beneath my hands and I gasped as I slipped out of my body and saw my astral form in the mirrored doors of our built in wardrobe.
That couldn’t be me, that beautiful vision with silvery wings and long dark hair flowing around my face in ethereal strands. My entire body glowed with a luminescence only slighter dimmer than my wings.
Is this how I appeared to my clients when I came to reap their souls? Like an angel?
I wished Sam could see me, but had to settle with running a hand lightly down his cheek and leaning in to kiss him goodbye.
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ I said, concentrating on making sure he could both feel my touch and hear my voice.
‘Be careful.’ Concern lit his eyes as he scanned the air in front of him.
‘Of course,’ I said, putting as much confidence as I could manage into my voice. The wind created by my wings stirred his hair and he ran a hand through it as I lifted up, losing sight of him once I passed through the ceiling.
It was all a lie, of course. I had never felt less confident in my life as I searched for the entrance to the Underworld. I focused on the memory of the black expanse dotted with the light from the thousands of twinkling souls of Easton’s citizens, hoping it would guide me to the boundary between the Underworld and the physical world.
The last time I passed through it had been in the other direction, coming from the Underworld, and I had no idea how to do that in reverse. The souls I’d reaped had been sent on their way towards rebirth and I couldn’t afford to hang around in the astral plane waiting for someone to die.
Perhaps if I focused on the Grim Reaper instead, picturing the version of him I’d encountered six months ago.
I placed my hands over the hollow below my neck, closed my eyes, and thought about the terrifying vision that was the Grim Reaper in his natural form. Neutral harbinger of death, and Lord of the Underworld. A chill swept over my astral form seconds before a strong wind buffeted me about. I opened my eyes to reorient myself, disappointed to find I was still hovering in the air over Easton.
The wind still pushed at me. I tried to slip below it, to find a calmer spot of air in which to think, but it did not relent. It pushed me sideways, and I dropped even lower, wings struggling to keep me upright. Soon I was only metres off the ground, still moving sideways.
Mango trees barred my path and I instinctively shielded my face as my astral form slipped through the branches. Once I reached the other side the wind abruptly dropped away and my momentum slowed.
I sucked in an uneasy breath as I took in my surroundings.
I was on the edge of the hockey field that had been the scene of some of my worst nightmares six months ago.
It was here I found the body of one of the victims of my serial killer brother, Andrew. That same night I’d also discovered Chris Bradbury was the missing reaper Jonathon Grimm had resurrected me to find. A week later I’d been called back here when Wraiths attacked partygoers at an eighteenth birthday celebration in the hockey club’s hall.
My ex-boyfriend, Logan, had been murdered here by Talaom, Almorthanos’s right hand man, and he’d tried to frame me for the crime. A few nights later I had been killed for the third time, by Talaom, when I’d bargained for the freedom of Sam and my younger brother, Connor. Grimm had come
for me, ripping my body out of the physical world and taking me back to the Underworld to use me to free Almorthanos from Demania.
Worst of all was the last time I’d been called here, when I’d had to reap Emily’s soul. Thanks to Chris, I’d been given the chance to return to my own body. But I’d then had to stand by as Emily’s grieving parents collected her body, pretending I didn’t know what had happened to her, that it wasn’t my fault she was dead.
I shook my head, ethereal hair flowing in the air around me as I tried to ward off such gloomy thoughts. It appeared I would have to wait for someone else to die to find my way to the Underworld after all
I turned to fly home, and stopped. A ball of light, dimmed by dark smudging around the edges, hovered in the air in front of me.
A lost soul.
From the dull glow it was emitting I guessed it had been floating around the astral plane for some time. Perhaps it was one of the souls who had paid the price for Grimm’s voracious appetite for those who’d died violent deaths. Many of the people who had died in more mundane ways had been left behind. Unreaped, serving no purpose in his evil scheme to take corporeal form on the physical plane to be at his master’s side.
That was one of the best things to have come out of my destroying the Grim Reaper’s alter ego. No souls were left behind. Not on my watch. I would do for this soul what I had done for all the other lost ones I encountered, not wanting to prolong its suffering any longer.
I stretched out a hand to touch it, intending to send it on its way to rebirth. The soul darted out of reach. It bounced in the air, darting in towards me and then away again. It didn’t take long for me to understand the message.
‘Thank you,’ I said, waiting for the soul to lead the way.
I don’t know what I expected; a hidden pathway to reveal itself or a tear in the fabric that comprised the astral plane perhaps. I certainly wasn’t ready for the soul to zip away at a pace I would be hard pressed to match. But I unfurled my wings and prepared to give it my best shot. Surely the lost soul would soon realise I was being left behind and come back to lead me the rest of the way at a more manageable speed.
I never got a chance to move before the soul reappeared in the distance, travelling so fast it was a blur of light. Making straight for me.
I dodged.
Too late.
The lost soul slammed into my chest, spinning me head over heels, wings flapping uselessly. I screamed, the sound echoing in the air around me as I was sucked into a vortex. I tucked my wings against my body, sure they were about to be ripped off my back, closing my eyes. I was tossed this way and that, never still, the constant movement testing the insubstantial nature of my stomach while in astral form.
Suddenly it was over. I was still screaming when the bone leaching cold hit me, followed by a complete absence of sound. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know I was in the Underworld. Or more accurately, the void where I had first encountered Jonathon Grimm.
8
I opened my eyes and found total darkness. All I could hear was my ragged breathing, the harsh sound deadened the moment it left my mouth. I strained my eyes and ears, dreading the moment when Grimm would appear and confirm all my worst fears. Yet, conversely, I wanted him to hurry up and get it over with, to end the torturous build-up of terror inside me.
There was no sign of the lost soul that had brought me here or Jonathon Grimm, but my surroundings slowly began to change. The darkness fencing me in softened, while wisps of mist wound their way through the air towards me. Wispy fingers of nether, they swirled around me, tasting, testing, but never touching. Yet I swear I could feel their clammy fingers on my soul.
They withdrew a short distance, forming an aisle for their master to glide down.
I could see him now. Black cloak billowing around his abnormally tall skeletal frame, dark light shining from the blade on his scythe, face shadowed by his hood.
I stopped breathing as he drew closer.
The bones of his jaw creaked as he opened his mouth. ‘Reaper. Why have you come here?’ He lifted a skeletal hand and pushed his hood back far enough that I could see his eyes. Fire lit up his skull from within, shooting out of the empty eye sockets, just like it had after I’d freed him from Almorthanos’s taint.
The relief I felt at knowing this was not the Grim Reaper who had been subverted by an alter ego died when he moved closer, looming over me, scythe ready to strike.
His voice boomed all around me. ‘Your kind is an abomination. A living reaper should not, cannot, be allowed to exist.’
I sank to my knees, trembling as he unleashed the full glory of his dark guise upon me, far more terrifying than any version I had encountered before.
I bowed my head, struggling to force words to my lips, desperate to plead for my life.
What could I say? What hope could I have of convincing such a majestic and horrifying being to let me live?
‘Please, I didn’t know.’ My words were barely intelligible, even to me, my astral body shaking so hard I felt sure I was going to fly apart at the seams. He wouldn’t need to kill me. The violent shudders racking my astral frame would do it for him. No soul could endure the torment his displeasure was forcing upon me.
Nothing happened in the Underworld without his say so. If I had any hope of getting him to relent, of sparing my life, I had to find it fast.
‘A dark reaper is in Easton. I need your help to stop it.’
The torture ended so abruptly I fell headfirst onto the invisible floor of the void. I quivered all over as my astral body reformed around me. I sucked in a deep breath, grateful to still be alive, even if I didn’t know how long I would remain that way.
‘Tell me.’
It was an effort to lift my head. The last thing I wanted to do was meet his gaze, but I forced myself to do it. As I told him what I knew, voice still somewhat shaky, I dragged myself to my feet, determined to face whatever happened next with as much dignity as I could muster considering I felt like I’d just been flayed alive.
The silence after I finished speaking threatened to drive me to my knees again and it took every ounce of strength I had to remain standing. The mist of nether coiled and roiled around him, seething with the agitation of its master, blocking him from view.
After an eternity the mist settled and the Grim Reaper once again stood unobscured in front of me. A silent omen of death.
Finally he said, ‘He is another abomination. Like you, he is a symptom of the disease that once infected me and should not exist.’
‘So you didn’t send him to Easton, to reap souls?’
He roared, the sound dropping me to the ground, head bowed, ears covered.
When the roar died away I uncovered my ears and dared look up at him, dreading the need to ask another question, but determined to find the answers I sought.
‘He’s targeting Tr’lirians who fought against Grimm and Almorthanos. If you didn’t let him loose on Easton, who did?’
‘The machinations of the living are of no concern to me.’
‘What about the souls he’s taking? Do you care about them? Please, help me stop more innocent people dying before their time.’
‘Very well, as payment for the debt I owe you for clearing me of the taint that afflicted me I will tell you what I know. All Jonathon Grimm’s foul creations were pulled back to the Underworld with me and were destroyed, bar one. That one eluded my wrath by resurrecting one of his fallen brethren. Once he was in a living body I could no longer sense him. He is the one you seek.’
‘I’m also looking for a woman. She may have been taken or killed by the dark reaper. Her name is Rebecca Killian. Do you know where she is, or what might have happened to her?’
‘I already told you, the actions of the living do not concern me.’
‘So she’s still alive? Is that what you–?’
‘Leave now. Never return or the next time you will not be allowed to cheat death. You, even more than the other, are an abominati
on that should be destroyed. No human should have dominion over aether and none of the living should ever have the ability to reap souls.’ He pointed his scythe at me. ‘Leave this place before I change my mind.’
I didn’t have a chance to say anything more. The wind that had pushed me here now pulled me away, the force of it stinging my eyes and lashing my astral body. I cried out, huddled in a ball as I was swept up and thrown.
I had a sense of immense speed as I streaked through the air. I didn’t dare open my eyes until my movement stopped. When I did I found myself hovering above the field where Logan’s body had been displayed for me to find.
I heaved a shaky sigh and headed for home, struggling to process what had happened. One thing I was sure of was that this Grim Reaper was far more terrifying than Grimm had ever been. No force in the world would make me set foot in the Underworld ever again.
I pushed that fear aside as I entered my house and found Sam sitting on the bed beside my body. After I reconnected with my physical self, he helped me sit up and, from the look of sheer relief on his face and the stiff way he moved, I guessed he hadn’t moved the entire time I’d been gone.
‘The dark reaper is one of Jonathon Grimm’s sadistic pets. It avoided the Grim Reaper’s cull by slipping into a dead body and bringing it back to life,’ I said when my vocal cords were working again.
Sam grimaced. ‘Grimm couldn’t find Bradbury once he was inside a living body, so I’m guessing this latest version of him won’t be much help in tracking this reaper guy down.’
I shuddered at the mere thought of another encounter with the Grim Reaper. Even if he’d been able to help, I’d never survive asking for it.
Sam’s eyes narrowed. ‘What is it? What’s wrong? My God, Tyler, you’re shaking.’
I allowed him to hold me, snuggling in as he stroked my back, the reaction to my Underworld visit setting in. It had been worse than any of my nightmares, more so because it was real.
Silver Reaper (Reaper Series Book 3) Page 4