by Donna Grant
And that wasn’t right. Neve knew it was likely because Rhi didn’t realize who the Reapers were, nor did they want her to know because then she’d have to die.
Neve tested her magic and found that it came to her easily. She created two orbs—one in each hand—and threw them at the Dark attacking Rhi.
Rhi winked at Neve right as she slit the throat of one Dark. Neve didn’t stop. She managed to throw three more balls of magic before Bran turned to her with a growl.
In the next instant, Neve found herself held against the wall, several feet off the floor. Bran’s magic was slowly squeezing her throat, cutting off her air.
Talin let loose a bellow of fury. She could only watch while a sword with a long blade appeared in his hand. Talin took a step, lunging and swinging his weapon.
He managed to get close enough to Bran to cut his arm. Neve smiled at the sight of Bran’s blood. But the smile was soon gone as Bran whipped his head to Atris and barked his name.
The room stilled once more. Without a second’s hesitation, her brother casually walked to their mother. A dagger appeared in his hand a heartbeat before he sunk it into her heart.
Neve screamed as her mother’s silver eyes widened in surprise. She crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Neve watched in horror as Atris sidestepped to their father.
Her father glanced at Neve and gave her a reassuring smile before he touched Atris’s face. A second later, her brother slit his throat.
Although Neve’s mouth was open on a scream, there was no sound. The shock was debilitating, devastating.
Unbearable.
The trauma of what she’d just witnessed left her shuddering with disbelief. She was numb, her heart shriveling at the blow Bran had just served her.
Neve couldn’t look away from her parents, who lay unmoving on the floor. Their match had been one to solidify and strengthen the family. They hadn’t shared a great love, but in death, their fingers were touching, as if despite it all, they’d needed each other in the end.
It was Bran’s laughter that pulled her gaze from her parents. Neve found herself staring into her brother’s face, but gone were his familiar silver eyes. Now, a blood—red gaze glared back at her.
“Can I kill her next?” Atris asked Bran.
“Over my fucking dead body,” Talin ground out.
Rhi whistled to get Atris’s attention. “How about we have a go at it if you’re looking for someone else to kill?”
Neve fought to get out of the grip of Bran’s magic, but his hold was unbreakable. He wasn’t even paying attention to her. Bran’s gaze was riveted on Talin as if he were waiting for Talin to make another move.
The violence in Talin’s beautiful, silver gaze blazed. His chest heaved as he pinned Bran with a look. Neve guessed the other Reapers were holding him back.
What were they waiting on?!
Without looking at Atris, Bran gave him a nod. In the next heartbeat, Atris was lobbing orbs of magic at Rhi. She was as graceful as a swan, as agile as a feline.
And extremely lethal.
Her blade rarely missed its mark. Neve could only watch as Rhi cut her brother time after time. It was almost as if she were playing with Atris, because there were plenty of times where she could have delivered the killing blow. But she never did.
Neve couldn’t understand why. She knew how accurate Rhi was, how deadly her blade was. It was then that it dawned on Neve. Rhi was weakening Atris so it would be one less Fae to fight.
Neve’s throat clogged with emotion. Her brother was lost, but Rhi was preventing her from having to see him killed after just watching her parents’ murders.
She looked over at Talin to find him and Bran facing off with each other. They were slowly circling one another, their gazes locked.
Anger burned in Neve. Why weren’t the Reapers attacking? They had a perfect opportunity to take Bran out. She was held against her will, helpless to do anything but watch the proceedings.
Suddenly, Bran smiled as Searlas came up behind Talin. Now Talin had to turn to the side to keep both men in view.
Just as she was about to shout for the Reapers, Searlas fell to his knees, his eyes wide as blood blossomed over his chest. Kyran dropped his veil and yanked his sword from Searlas’s chest.
Bran’s face erupted with rage. He let out a bellow, and the room was suddenly filled with Dark.
His army.
At that moment, the rest of the Reapers dropped their veils. Cael immediately went after Bran. Their swords clanged, magic swirling around each of them.
Talin was working his way through the Dark to get to her. Kyran, Eoghan, and Fintan were all battling several Dark at the same time.
There was another Reaper, one Neve hadn’t seen before. The Light Fae had long, black hair, and his silver gaze glanced at Rhi often. He was never far from her.
Neve found Atris, who worked his way over to the nearest wall. Blood ran down his chest, arms, neck, and legs. Rhi’s sword had been made in the Fires of Erwar, preventing a Fae’s body from healing as it normally would.
He fell to his knees, his chin dropping to his chest. Neve didn’t want her brother dead, but it was better than knowing he was Dark.
* * *
Talin gritted his teeth against the blasts of magic he sustained during his attempts to reach Neve. At least, she was out of the fray of battle.
That was the only good thing in the whole fucked up setting.
No matter how many Dark he killed, more took their place. The many cuts from their weapons mixed with the blasts of magic were slowing him. It didn’t help that this army had the same kind of strength and added power to their magic as he did as a Reaper.
If they were normal Dark Fae, the Reapers would’ve made quick work of them. Talin ducked a blade coming at his head. They really needed to find out how Bran was passing on the magic. None of the other Reapers were able to do that. So what made Bran so special?
Talin caught a glimpse of Daire near Rhi. Even in the heat of battle, the infamous Light Fae had noticed each of the Reapers. He hoped Cael had a way of dealing with Rhi’s new knowledge, because Talin was fairly certain Death didn’t want Rhi killed.
But if Rhi were able to live after knowing of the Reapers, then Talin was going to fight with everything he had to make sure the same was true for Neve.
Even if he couldn’t have her.
He hissed as an orb of magic hit where he’d already been burned with Dark magic earlier. His skin sizzled as the magic scorched him, going through muscle all the way to the bone.
Talin pushed aside the pain. He’d deal with it later. Right now, he had to be strong and fierce for Neve. She needed him. No longer were his sights set on killing Bran. Talin merely wanted to reach Neve and keep her safe.
Then he could focus on killing the evil bastard.
Talin pivoted, his gaze catching a glimpse of Cael and Bran fighting. For the first time since Bran had begun this war, the Reapers had surprised him.
It made Talin inwardly grin. They were Reapers. They could—and would—stop Bran this night. No longer would Bran wreak havoc among the Reapers and threaten Death. No longer would the Reapers have to worry about protecting the few half—Fae left among the humans.
Talin plunged his sword into the gut of the Dark nearest him while he threw up magic to block a blast from another. He withdrew his sword as the Dark disintegrated before he rammed his shoulder into another Fae.
His path to Neve was slow. Too damn slow for his peace of mind. It didn’t seem to matter how many Dark the Reapers killed—and it was a significant number—there were always more.
Talin frowned as he came face to face with a Dark he’d just killed with his sword. What the hell was going on? He killed the Dark again, with the same thrust of his blade through the Dark’s stomach. For the second time, Talin watched him turn to dust.
It was Bran’s bark of laughter that made apprehension grip Talin. There was more at work here than any of the Reapers knew. They assumed t
hey knew Bran’s mind, which was difficult.
But they’d made a fatal mistake in thinking whatever was giving him power was nothing to be concerned with. They were wrong.
Talin soon found himself standing next to Kyran in the battle. By the look of trepidation on his friend’s face, Kyran had come to the same conclusion.
With great effort, Talin and Kyran cleared a path to Neve. She clawed at her throat, at the invisible bonds that choked her.
“Kill him!” Talin yelled at Cael.
It was the only way they would be able to free Neve from his magic. Because Bran wasn’t going to do it willingly. Bran wanted to inflict pain, wanted to kill anything the Reapers cared about.
Cael wasn’t just fighting Bran. There were several Dark attacking him, as well. The Reapers were outnumbered, and if something wasn’t done soon, they were going to lose the chance to kill Bran that they’d been given.
Bran plunged his sword into Cael’s thigh.
Everyone stilled mid—fight as Cael’s lips peeled back in a grimace. Talin held his breath as Cael looked down at the blade sticking out of his thigh before gradually raising his head.
His breaths were labored, the blood flowing down his leg in thick rivulets.
“No!” Eoghan shouted.
The shock of Eoghan speaking quickly dissipated at the feel of malevolence. Bran held out his hands, magic filling the room and expanding rapidly. Talin fought against the weight of it, but in the end, he fell to his knees as Bran’s magic swelled in an attempt to swallow each of them.
Talin’s gaze met Kyran’s as each were held by Bran’s magic, unable to move. Talin gritted his teeth in pain as it felt as if his skin were pulling away from his body.
Suddenly, something off to his left began to glow. The manor started to tremble as if the very ground fought against Bran’s hold.
Talin managed to turn his head enough to see that it was Rhi who glowed. Light emanated from every pore of her body. The brighter she glowed, the more the house shook.
Cracks appeared in the walls. The ceiling groaned and shifted, splintering into several veins. Rhi, however, seemed unfazed.
Her magic clashed with Bran’s, pushing his back with a vengeful roar.
But there were consequences to such power. The mixture of two such powerful magics created a maelstrom. A vicious swirl of magic that whirled about them like a tornado. Rhi didn’t seem to notice. Anger twisted her face, consuming her.
Bran took advantage of the storm and focused it on one person—Cael.
It was pulling him into the vortex. Wounded, Cael fought valiantly against the magic dragging him. He strained until his feet were yanked out from beneath him. Even then, Cael clawed at the floor.
Every Reaper attempted to reach Cael, but the magic—and the magical storm—made it nearly impossible.
Talin sucked in a breath when Rhi’s magic pressed against him, making his body shake with the force of it. It would soon devour Bran’s—and everything else.
“Rhi!” Daire shouted. He was the one nearest her, and he crawled to her even as blood dripped from his ears.
Cael was about to be swallowed by the magical storm. Talin yelled his fury when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye.
In a rush, Eoghan got to his feet and shoved Cael out of the way—only to be sucked into the tempest himself.
With Eoghan’s disappearance, Bran shut down his magic and teleported away, his laughter echoing off the walls of the manor.
Daire managed to take Rhi’s hand as he said her name again. Rhi blinked. Then, with a shuddering breath, the glowing diminished until it faded completely. Everyone was silent for a moment as they looked around to find the Dark gone. Except for one—Atris.
Chapter Nineteen
Neve drew in a deep breath of air. The fall had been farther than she’d thought, with her knees giving out upon impact. She fell forward, catching herself with her hands. She touched her throat, thankful to no longer feel Bran’s magic.
She looked at Talin, but his gaze was locked on the spot Eoghan had vanished. Neve couldn’t imagine how the Reapers were feeling. Just as she wasn’t able to wrap her head around what she’d witnessed Rhi do.
The Light Fae had actually glowed!
There was always talk around court regarding Rhi’s powerful magic, but Neve hadn’t known those murmurings were based on truth. She guessed few had observed it in the flesh.
A moan from her right drew Neve’s attention. She gasped when she saw Atris. Without thinking of the consequences, Neve half—crawled, half—stumbled her way to him.
“Atris,” she murmured as she reached him.
He began to crumple to the side. Instinctively, she cradled his head, wrapping her arms around him. She situated herself with her back against the wall.
“I’ve got you,” she said, soothing him.
His eyes were closed, and she was thankful for that small reprieve. She wasn’t yet ready to see the red eyes that made him Dark.
Nor could she look at her parents’ bodies. It was just too painful. So she didn’t turn their way or think about Atris killing them.
“I’m . . . sorry,” Rhi said into the quiet and stillness of the room.
The fire in the hearth crackled and popped. Blood—Dark Fae blood—dripped from Rhi’s sword. The sound of that single drop hitting the floor seemed to slam into Rhi. In the next moment, the sword vanished.
A shaky breath left her. Then she walked to Cael and withdrew the sword from his thigh without a warning. His face twisted in agony. He looked up at her as he rolled to his back.
Neve was spellbound, watching as Rhi went down on one knee and examined the wound. No one moved. No one uttered a single syllable.
“It’s not going to heal,” Rhi finally said.
Cael shrugged. The look on his face said he already knew the verdict. “It doesn’t matter.”
Neve rocked her brother, a frown forming at Cael’s words. What did he mean ‘it doesn’t matter?’
“If you want to kill Bran and find your friend it does,” Rhi said matter—of—factly. She met Cael’s gaze and held her hand over his wound, then her hand began to glow.
Neve could actually see the magic moving from Rhi’s hand into Cael’s wound, healing him. If Neve had been shocked at Rhi’s power before, now she was dumbstruck. Fae with Rhi’s kind of ability were myth and legends—not true beings.
Then again, so were the Reapers.
Neve’s skin warmed as she felt Talin’s gaze on her. She turned her head to the side and looked his way. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t read his closed—off expression.
He stood and made his way to her. There he knelt beside her and smoothed a lock of her hair behind her ear. It felt so good to have his touch again that Neve closed her eyes and leaned her cheek against his palm.
“We didn’t get him,” Talin said.
Neve opened her eyes and gave him a reassuring smile. “Next time.”
“How many more will we get?” Kyran asked the room. “We should’ve had Bran.”
Fintan shook his head of white hair. “Where is he getting his fucking power?”
Rhi’s head snapped to him, and for the longest time, she simply stared at Fintan. She then looked at each of the Reapers until she came to the one Neve hadn’t met. Daire.
Daire looked away from Rhi and said to Cael, “We need to know how Bran is getting his power if we’re to beat him.”
“Agreed,” Talin said.
Cael stood, testing his leg that was now fully healed. He gave a nod to Rhi. “Thank you. As for Bran, I also agree. We’ll have two missions. Find Eoghan, and discover Bran’s secret.”
“Which could stem from how he escaped from the Netherworld,” Kyran said.
“Well stick a fork in me,” Rhi suddenly said, a smile on her face. “You’re Reapers.”
Neve waited for one of them to admit it, but the only one who would meet the Light Fae’s gaze was Cael. Neve knew exactly how
Rhi felt. The Reapers were closed—mouthed about themselves, but she knew why. Rhi had yet to figure that out.
“You’re wrong about them,” Neve told Rhi. “There’s no such thing as a Reaper.”
Rhi turned to look in her direction. Behind her, Cael gave Neve a nod she assumed was in thanks for her attempt. Unfortunately, it was a failed attempt, because Rhi obviously didn’t believe her.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that, baby girl,” Rhi said. She then walked to Neve and sat down before her, staring at Atris.
Neve swallowed. “Will he wake?”
“Undoubtedly.” Rhi’s silver eyes met hers. “Are you sure you want him to?”
“Because if he’s Dark I might have to kill him?”
“There’s not a ‘might’ about it,” Talin told her.
Neve shook her head. “My family has been dealt enough. I’ll not kill my own blood.”
“We’ll do it for you,” Cael said as he walked up with the other Reapers behind him.
That didn’t make Neve feel any better. She hugged Atris tighter. He’d been a good soul, a kind soul. Perhaps he wasn’t as strong as past Everwoods mentally, but that didn’t make him a bad person.
Rhi laid her hand atop hers and gave a little squeeze. “You saw what Bran was.”
“Yes,” Neve said, swallowing.
“He controls Atris. We can’t allow that to continue.”
Neve knew that, but the thought of her brother dead left her eyes stinging with unshed tears.
Talin wrapped an arm around her, giving her his strength and his shoulder. She’d never needed it more. It felt like at any moment, she was about to fall apart.
She sniffed and blinked to clear her vision. Then she looked at Cael. “Can it be done together?”
“What?” Rhi asked. She looked between Neve and Cael several times before she shot Neve a hard look. “Why do you want to die?”
“I don’t.” It was the truth, and Neve wasn’t sorry for saying it. She looked at Talin and saw the pain in his eyes. He was prepared to fight for her, but she wouldn’t allow that.