by Donna Grant
For hours, she stood at the shoreline. The tide went out and came back in. The sun made its way across the sky and was now sinking into the horizon.
Life teemed around her as if a person hadn’t been viciously murdered. But then again, that was the way of the world. People focused on themselves instead of noticing others’ pain.
She might want the world to stop, but the fact was that it wouldn’t—it couldn’t. Even after her parents’ sudden deaths, her grandfather had made her and her siblings continue on, forcing them to look to the future.
He’d done the same thing to her when her brother and sister were killed. And she knew if her grandfather could talk to her now, he’d tell her to carry on.
Because she must.
The wind grew colder. It stung her cheeks, and though she felt it, she didn’t care. Inside, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to curl in a ball and cry, grow numb about everything, or let vengeance rule her.
The week before, she and her grandfather had talked about how weird the holidays would be with just the two of them now. If she managed to survive this war, she would be celebrating alone.
“Enough.”
She closed her eyes as she heard Fintan’s voice. A large jacket was draped around her. In the next heartbeat, she was lifted in his arms. She didn’t fight him. Instead, she rested her head on his shoulder. A second later, she found herself inside her home. He strode to the bathroom where the shower was already on, steam filling the area.
He set her down in the tub and jerked the shower curtain closed. Before her clothes grew soggy, they vanished. She could only shake her head at the magic of a Fae.
As soon as the hot water met her skin, she realized how cold she was. She moved beneath the spray, wrapping her arms around herself and letting the water heat her.
Once most of the shaking had stopped, she washed. Not once did she dare to peek around the curtain. She both hoped—and dreaded—that he was there.
After she had turned off the water, she reached for the towel hanging on the hook. A quick glance confirmed that she was alone. There was a surge of disappointment that she hastily shoved aside.
Toweling off, she put on sweats and ran her fingers through her hair before she walked out of the room. Fintan was standing beside the kitchen table, his hand on the back of a chair as he waited for her.
Cat made her way to him and sank into the chair. She took a deep breath and smelled something delicious. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten at all that day.
He then set a bowl of soup before her. “Eat.”
She really hated bossy men. At least, she normally did. At that moment, she was thankful for him. He could’ve left her to her own devices, but he hadn’t. He’d given her time, and when he deemed it enough, had taken matters into his own hands.
No words were spoken as she ate, and he sat across from her. It wasn’t until she’d finished her second bowl that she pushed it away and looked at him.
“Now what?” she asked.
He raised a white brow. “When I told you we tried to save Halflings, we succeeded. Baylon found Jordyn in Edinburgh. She was just setting out, finding anything she could on the Fae. He was there to save her when Bran came to kill her. In doing so, they fell in love.”
That wasn’t what she’d expected from the story. “That’s against Death’s rules. Was she killed?”
“Death realized history was repeating itself. We all recognized that. It was Jordyn’s quick thinking that helped us with Bran. Maybe that’s what ultimately swayed Death because the rules changed. Baylon and Jordyn were allowed to remain together—with the rest of the Reapers.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t imagine how that must have happened. “Were the rest of you all right with that decision?”
He gave her a confused look. “We didn’t have to kill Jordyn or Baylon. We were ecstatic. I’ll not lie and say it wasn’t odd to have a female among us, though.”
“I bet,” she said with a grin.
His white eyes held hers. “We discovered that Bran was after a set of books. When Kyran and Talin broke into the library in Edinburgh, they found that someone had been gathering the books we needed to keep from Bran. That person was a half-Fae named River.
“She fought my brothers to keep the books protected. Kyran and Talin took the volumes anyway. It wasn’t until we tried to read them that we realized each was in a different Fae language that hadn’t been spoken in millions of years.”
Cat leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “Could Bran read them?”
“I don’t know. Somehow, Kyran put it together that River could. It took some doing, but we talked her into helping us. Though she has no magic, she has the ability to understand any and all Fae languages. However, her willingness to help us put her on Bran’s radar. He went after her.”
“Please tell me you protected River.”
He took a deep breath and released it. “We did. In the midst of it all, Kyran fell in love with her, and she now carries his child.”
Cat’s eyes widened. “That’s amazing. I guess Death allowed her to remain, as well?”
“We have need of River. And no one wanted a repeat of history.”
“Besides,” Cat said with a twist of her lips. “Baylon got to keep his woman.”
Fintan nodded. “Exactly. Two Halflings who were targeted by Bran to die.”
“I see a pattern.”
“We all did. Death’s next move was to send Talin to the court of the Light Fae to spy on those there. He’d been doing it for months. What we didn’t know was that Bran also had a spy among them. As soon as Talin showed an interest in a female, Bran went after Neve. He killed her parents in front of her and turned her brother Dark.”
Cat might only be half-Fae, but she knew what that meant to a Light. Cat couldn’t imagine the horror Neve must have felt.
“Neve tried to save her brother with the help of a Light Fae named Rhi. They both thought once away from Bran that Atris would return to his old self. Only, he killed Neve.”
Cat’s hand covered her mouth as Fintan’s words registered.
He looked to the table and sat there for a moment. “What we all knew was that Talin had fallen in love with Neve. Death made concessions for Halflings, but not for a Fae. That rule didn’t change.”
Cat closed her eyes, unsure if she could hear more. The Reapers were supposed to be powerful. Death was . . . well, Death. Something should’ve been done.
“Neve was betrayed and killed,” Fintan said.
That’s when it hit her. She snapped opened her eyes and lowered her hand. “Neve became a Reaper.”
“Yes.”
“Three Reapers have found love and gotten to live. That’s good,” she said with a smile.
But Fintan didn’t return it.
Then she frowned as she recalled something he’d said before. “Seven. There are seven of you. Neve would make eight.”
“It would, but the night she was killed, there was a great battle between the Reapers and Bran’s army. Rhi joined us. It was her magic that stopped Bran’s, but the consequence was a vicious swirling storm of magic.
“Bran managed to control it, pointing it at Cael, who was wounded. Eoghan, one of the original Reapers, pushed Cael out of the way, and in the process, was sucked into the storm.”
One of Fintan’s friends was missing. She reached across and laid her hand atop his. “Is Eoghan dead?”
“We don’t believe so, but we’ve yet to find him. We won’t stop looking until we do.”
She looked down at her hand against his and slowly sat back, releasing him. “And Rhi? She’s a Fae. Does she know who you are?”
“Death wiped her memories.”
“Why not kill her?”
“The same reason Death has Daire following her. We don’t know.”
Cat chuckled. “And who questions Death, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Why did you tell me all of this?”
He rubbed a hand over his jaw and glanced away. “In all three cases, Bran has tried to kill the females. I assumed since he murdered your brother and sister that he would do the same to you.”
“But?” she urged when he paused.
“He had ample opportunity to kill you today, and he didn’t.”
She blew out a breath. “The offer, you mean?”
“There’s one out there. You received it, though you might not remember it.”
Cat rose and put her bowl in the sink. When she turned back around, she braced her hands on either side of her on the counter. “When I saw Bran today, I instinctively knew it was him. It was like I knew him.”
“He was probably the one who approached you with the proposition.”
“When you spoke of him, I thought he’d turned Dark after all of his kills.”
Fintan stood and pushed in the chair. “When we became Reapers, we ceased being Light or Dark. We became what Death created, though we keep the coloring we had in life.”
“I’ve already told you I haven’t seen Bran before today.”
“But you recognized him.”
She scrunched up her face, unable to deny the truth. “Yes, but I don’t know how.”
“You get many customers in your café each day. You can’t remember them all.”
She shot him a flat look. “I remember Fae.”
“Then he used magic.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“It shouldn’t,” Fintan said. He turned and looked at the curtains that were closed over the front window.
Cat pushed away from the counter and walked to stand before him. “If you hadn’t been here, I wouldn’t have known about Bran. I wouldn’t know he was the one responsible for killing my brother and sister.”
“You would’ve seen the evil in him.”
“You sound so sure of that, but I’m not. His offer might have been similar to yours. Maybe he wants to protect me. I would’ve accepted that.”
Fintan’s white eyes blazed with intensity. “You’ve been around Fae your entire life. Do you know when one uses glamour?”
She shrugged, scrunching up her face. “A few instances it seems as if there’s just something not quite right with a Fae.”
“You would’ve seen through Bran.”
“Before it was too late?”
He held her gaze for a moment longer. “Why are you worrying about something that didn’t happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve had a rough day,” he said and stepped aside. With a hand on her back, he ushered her to the door to her bedroom. “You need to rest. Everything will be clearer in the morning.”
“I doubt it,” she mumbled but walked to her bed and curled beneath the covers.
Chapter Eleven
Outside of Cork, Ireland
“I thought you said she’d come with you,” Searlas said.
Bran looked at his lieutenant from his position slouched in the chair before the crackling fire. The manor they had commandeered was spacious, if somewhat ostentatious for his liking. But it was a place for them to rest.
A location the Reapers would never to think to look. Though it wasn’t as if Cael or the other Reapers could track him. A complication the Reapers had yet to realize.
Searlas stared at him expectantly.
Bran stretched his legs out before him and crossed his ankles. “It’s only a matter of time before Catriona comes with us.”
“You still believe that even though Fintan is with her?”
“The Halfling is detrimental to our plans. I’m going to make sure she had no other option but to choose us.”
Searlas poured himself a glass of whisky and joined Bran by the fire. “Even after we burned her café?”
“Who says we did it?” Bran asked with a grin.
“Brilliant.”
Bran shrugged. “I always get what I want. And right now, I want Catriona Hayes.”
“Do you think Fintan and the others know what she’s capable of?”
“If they did, they’d take her someplace I’d never be able to get to. All Fintan was concerned with was trying to trap me. He’s not looking at the Halfling as he should be.”
“That’s to our advantage,” Searlas stated.
Bran held up his glass of whisky to see the firelight through it. “Don’t underestimate the Reapers. To do that will be our downfall.”
“But we’re ahead.”
His gaze swung to Searlas. “Ahead? I told you when you joined me that my goals meant it would be a long campaign.”
“I understand that, but we killed Eoghan.”
“What makes you think that?”
“The magic swallowed him,” Searlas stated as if he were talking to a daft person.
Bran sometimes forgot that his lieutenant saw only two sides and missed everything in between. Searlas was a loyal fighter but was a few sheep short of a flock at times.
“That magic was a combination of mine and that Light Fae’s—whoever the feck she is. I don’t know what our combined power created, but Eoghan isn’t dead. All I knew is that I wanted Cael gone. And he would be if Eoghan hadn’t pushed him out of the way.”
“How do you know Eoghan is still alive?” Searlas asked with a frown.
Bran scratched his eyebrow. “I just do.”
“I was hoping he’d be dead.”
“It’ll come,” Bran said with a smile. “Patience, Searlas. It’s what got me out of the Netherworld. It’s what has allowed me to syphon Erith’s magic. And it will grant my goals.”
Searlas finished his whisky and smacked his lips together. “Despite the Reapers gaining the books we needed and preventing us from killing all the Halflings?”
“I’ll admit, the Reapers gaining the books is a hindrance. We needed those, but with Catriona, we’ll be able to get them. As for the Halflings? Let the Reapers believe they’ve saved them.”
“Oh, how I love the way your mind works,” Searlas said with a laugh.
Bran smiled and took a sip of the fine Irish whisky. “The Reapers are down by one with Eoghan gone. They’ll be searching for him and worried about trapping me. They won’t have a clue what’s coming next.”
“I almost wish I could see their faces when they discover what they had right before them this whole time.”
“I never thought any of them would realize Catriona existed. I was about to give up on my plan.” Bran pressed the side of the glass against this temple. “I should’ve known it would be Fintan.”
Searlas gave a loud snort. “The fekker is too devoid of emotion to gain the Halfling’s trust.”
“You sure about that?”
Searlas nodded rapidly. “Definitely.”
“And yet she fought alongside him today. I’d almost call it defending him.”
“She did kill one of ours,” Searlas said with a frown.
Bran raised a brow. “Do you still hold to your original opinion that Fintan won’t gain any trust with Cat?”
“If you think he’s gaining ground, why not go to her now?”
“What would be the fun in that?”
Searlas shook his head as he sat back in the chair. “And if the Halfling falls for Fintan?”
“Then her betrayal will cut him even deeper when she comes to me.”
* * *
“Are you sure about this?” Talin asked.
Cael stood amid the tall trees of the Dragonwood and shook his head. “Nay, but since a Dragon King saw Fintan in Edinburgh, and you popped onto their land, I don’t see how we have a choice.”
“Not to mention, they’re discussing us anyway.”
There was that. Daire had told them of the gathering of the Dragon Kings and Rhi, as they talked about not only the Reapers but also Con’s affair with the Light Queen, Usaeil.
Cael decided not to put Con on the defensive and show up in his office, though it would’ve made things easier. He looked to the sky. At one time, dra
gons would’ve been flying overhead the moment someone breached the magical barrier around Dreagan.
But the Dark’s release of the video of the Kings shifting had put too much focus on the secretive and reclusive dragons. Cael didn’t blame the Kings’ initial reaction of pulling down the video, but he might’ve done things differently.
Then again, it was easy for him to say such things since he was looking at it from a different angle rather than being right in the mix with everything he held dear on the line.
“Who are you?” demanded a deep voice behind them.
Talin spun around. Cael slowly turned and came face-to-face with Constantine, King of Dragon Kings. He looked into Con’s black eyes as snow flurries danced around them.
“Well, shite,” said a man who walked up behind Con and saw Talin.
Talin nodded his head. “Roman.”
Con never looked away from Cael. “I asked who you were.”
“Reapers.” Cael decided to get right to the point. “My name is Cael, and I lead them.”
A blond brow arched as Con glanced at Talin. “It’s no’ a coincidence you showing up claiming to be Reapers after we were just talking about you, is it?”
“We’re not claiming anything,” Talin said.
Cael shook his head, spotting another Dragon King off to his right. “No, it isn’t. I came for several reasons. The first was to let you know that Usaeil had pictures of you two posted all over the Light Castle.”
“I’m aware.”
Roman crossed his arms over his chest. “And the other reason?”
“Talin made a mistake in showing himself to you. I’d intended our first meeting to occur differently,” Cael said.
Con looked around the forest, touching the trees as he walked past them to move closer to Cael. “And the white-haired Fae Darius saw in Edinburgh? Am I to assume he’s a Reaper?”
Cael nodded. “Fintan is one of us, aye.”
“Why are you showing yourselves to us now?” Con asked.
“We work for Death,” Cael explained. “Death is judge and jury and keeps the balance between our kind. We’re the executioners. Our identities are kept from all Fae, but there is an imbalance that hasn’t been righted yet. Which is why I’m here.”