Reaper: Faction 14 (The Isa Fae Collection)

by Gwen Knight

  “To be perfectly honest, I haven’t given it much consideration yet,” Markos admitted. “I hadn’t expected Keira and Oren to return with any of you. We believed you all dead. With you on our side, we’ll need to come up with a new plan. A means of infiltrating.”

  My father pushed up from his chair and approached me, his aged face still a touch pale, as though he hadn’t beaten his illness yet. “You’ve made up your mind, then?” he asked.

  I knew it wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but I nodded. “I never should have returned to Osvea. If I hadn’t, maybe I could have done something to protect the Foundry. Could have saved more lives…”

  “Or you could have burned like the rest,” my father murmured. “We can’t labor on what-ifs.”

  “You wouldn’t have let me burn,” I said with a soft smile. “But I’ve been hiding in the shadows far too long. I should have stood up to Arik long ago. Put a stop to this nonsense. But I let fear drive me. He always threatened to kill you if I didn’t obey, and I let that fear consume me. I need to be brave. Helping Oren could be the start to something amazing. If we could help him take the throne, imagine what that would mean. Imagine the possibilities for all witches.”

  A sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “There’s so much of your mother in you. She wouldn’t have sat back either. That was more my style.” He turned toward Markos. “If my daughter has agreed to help you, then so will I. I’m not sure how much I can provide, but I’m willing.”

  “As am I,” Gavin announced.

  Soon, the majority of them had signed up, Logan among them.

  “Excellent.” Markos clapped his hands together, excitement smoothing out his face. “I’ll get to planning then. In the meantime, we need to figure out the sleeping arrangements. Obviously, we’ll have to share some rooms. I haven’t enough for everyone.”

  “My father can have my room,” I offered. “I’ll take the chair.”

  “Keira—”

  I shook my head. “You need proper rest. You’re still sick.” And I doubted the fire had helped matters any.

  “Oren, if you’d like to share with Logan here,” Markos suggested. “And Gavin can share a room with Noam for the time being…”

  He continued to make the arrangements, but I lost track, my breath hitching at the sound of Logan’s and Oren’s names together. It was clear the two loathed each other. Seemed unlikely them sharing a room would improve matters, but Markos had already moved on, issuing out orders without thought.

  An icy stare passed between the two of them, one that had me shivering. But neither refused the arrangements, almost as though they were determined to prove who was the better man.

  Testosterone. I shook my head, then started toward the stairs with my father in tow. At least he’d have a comfortable bed and a warm room. Already an improvement on his house in the Foundry. Maybe here he’d be able to heal whatever sickness plagued him.

  I could only hope.

  11

  Our future is entwined with the humans. There is not much we can do other than accept this fate. Treating the humans as nothing more than slaves and sources of energy does more harm than good—for the oppressed never remain so forever.

  —Lady Taly

  “You’re troubled…”

  My father’s voice startled me from my deep thoughts. I turned away from the window and found him settling on to the bed, his limbs trembling as he lowered himself onto the plush mattress. Every bone in my body wanted to go to him and help him get comfortable, but somehow I figured he wouldn’t appreciate that.

  He patted the space next to him on the mattress, his withered smile rousing one of my own.

  I rose from the chair and crawled on to the bed next to him.

  “It’s just the two of us. What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t even know where to start.”

  He rested his head against the pillows and gazed up at the ceiling. “The beginning is generally a good place.”

  I knew what weighed on my mind the most. “I’ve killed three people since escaping the dungeons.” My eyes shut as the words sank in. Three people.

  “And this bothers you?”

  Yes. “Of course it does.”

  “You’ve killed before.”

  My eyes snapped open, and I turned to stare at him. “What?”

  A gentle smile tugged on his lips. “It’s who you are. Their Reaper. You can’t tell me you haven’t killed before.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “But that was on Arik’s orders and not your own choice?”

  I nodded. These three men were the first ones I hadn’t been forced into killing. “Taking their lives was the first thought that entered my mind. In the dungeon, I knew I had to. If I’d left him alive, he would have run to Dask, reported us, notified the guards…any number of things. But the two at the Foundry…they didn’t know I was there. I could have done something else—anything else.”

  “From what I understand, those guards would have killed Oren.”

  The memory of their swords at his throat flashed to mind, eliciting a chill down my spine. “But does that justify my actions?”

  “My darling girl, no one else can justify your actions. Only you. You are the one who must live with yourself. If you find you can’t live with their deaths, then you know to try something different next time. If you can accept their deaths, then no other opinions matter.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You can’t really believe that.”

  “We don’t live in a place of right and wrong. For us, it’s kill or be killed. If you find you can’t accept killing, then you know your limitations. Believe me, no one here regrets your actions today. Your lad Oren is safe, you’re safe, and we all are alive to see another day.”

  I tried to ignore the lad statement. “That’s…one way of looking at it, I suppose.”

  “Let me put it to you this way. Do you think those guards would have hesitated to bring you back to Dask? And once Dask had you, then what? This is your freedom you’re fighting for, my girl. Sometimes difficult decisions must be made. And I doubt you’ll enjoy them all. But this is war.”

  “Is it, though? No one is actually at war.”

  “Yet.” My father’s eyes closed as he battled back a yawn. “But if Markos’ plan comes to fruition, there will be. The moment Oren takes the throne, the moment word spreads that they’ve freed witches, other cities will turn their focus on Osvea. Not all will support this movement, and few will share Oren’s and Markos’ views on witches. Regardless, war is coming.”

  Well, wasn’t that a cheery thought.

  “Do you…”

  When I fell silent, my father squinted and glanced my way. “Do I what?”

  “Do you think Oren will be in danger?”

  He cocked his head and regarded me for a moment. I bit the inside of my lip and glanced down at the comforter, picking at the hem.

  Whatever my father saw, it roused a heavy sigh. “Yes, I suspect he will be. He wants to reshape society as a whole. Free all witches.”

  “I’m not sure he wants that,” I admitted. “That’s what I want, but he promised me he’d try once he stabilized Osvea.”

  “Ah.” My father chuckled under his breath. “Not one for small promises, are you?”

  I joined in with his laughter. No, I suppose I wasn’t.

  “The things men do for love,” my father chortled.

  I froze. “What?”

  He lifted a bushy eyebrow. “You think I’m blind?”

  “Blind to what? Oren doesn’t love me.”

  “Well, probably not. At least…” He pinned me with a knowing stare. “Not yet.”

  “What are you talking about?” And why the hell were there butterflies flapping about in my stomach?

  “I’m not blind, my girl. And I’m not stupid. You think I didn’t see the glances you two shared?”

  “There weren’t any glances.” I shook my head.

  His laughter swelled. “Course ther
e weren’t.”

  “I’m serious! No glances.”

  My father held up his hands peaceably. “You’re right. No glances.”

  “Dad.”

  “Hey, what do I know? I’m just a feeble old man,” he said with a wink. “But if there had been, it’s all right, you know.”

  No, it wasn’t all right. And this wasn’t something I wanted to talk to my father about. This wasn’t something I wanted to talk about at all.

  “I’m also not the only one to notice,” he continued. “Logan mentioned it when we were walking through the woods.”

  Logan.

  Shit.

  I released a long breath and tipped back my head. “He kissed me.”

  “Oren?”

  “No, Logan.”

  “Ah. That’s not surprising. The boy has been half in love with you since you were teenagers.”

  God, I so didn’t need this. “I think he hates me now.”

  “Why would you think such a thing?”

  “Because I reaped everyone at the Foundry. He didn’t agree with that.”

  My father touched the back of my hand. “Just because he didn’t agree doesn’t mean he hates you. Your mother and I disagreed on a great many things. Overcoming it is what makes it a relationship.”

  Except, I wasn’t sure if I wanted one with Logan. The kiss had been nice, and I’d felt something, but a lot had changed since then.

  Ugh.

  I swung my legs off the bed and pushed to my feet. I didn’t want to think about this right now. My primary focus needed to be Dask. That was all that mattered. Everything else would have to wait.

  “I need some air,” I told my dad.

  When he didn’t respond, I glanced back to find him already asleep.

  I slipped out the front door and drew in a breath of crisp wintry air. My lungs rejoiced in the sensation. With eight witches and a handful of fae in the house, it was starting to feel a bit cramped. Everywhere I turned, another body crowded the hallway or blocked a doorway. And all of them a slight bit tense.

  It was only the first night, though. We’d all have to be patient as we grew accustomed to one another.

  For me, it was all overwhelming. When I hadn’t been reaping, I’d been confined to my room. This many people in one place made me feel claustrophobic. At least outside, it was nothing but wide open terrain and a bright moon hovering up in the velvet sky.

  Perhaps a bit chilly, however.

  I tucked into my cloak and wrapped it around me as tight as I could, hoping it was enough to keep the blasted chill at bay.

  “Oh,” a voice rose up to my right.

  I turned, heat blazing through my cheeks at the sight of Oren trudging through the snow toward me.

  “Thought I was alone out here.”

  “I just came out for a break,” I told him. “Needed a bit of space to clear my head.”

  He flashed me a smile, one that awoke those damned butterflies in my stomach. What the hell was going on with me?

  “I know exactly what you mean. I told Markos he might need to build a new wing to his cabin.”

  A joke, of course. Though it took me a few seconds to process that.

  “Ah well,” Oren continued. “We’ll get used to it.”

  I nodded. I loved that I was back in the same house as my father again. But the others? I could have done without.

  A gentle touch brushed against my shoulder. “You all right?”

  I glanced at Oren’s fingers, noting how his thumb ran along the seam of my cloak. A mindless gesture, but one that sent my heart into a skitter.

  “Oh, uh, yeah. Just trying to work through some things.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  I lifted my chin and met his gaze. The way he watched me, as though I had his undivided attention. Was that what my father had meant? The looks?

  “Keira?” he asked when I didn’t respond.

  I blinked and broke the connection. “Just…some personal stuff.”

  “Like…having Logan and your father back in your life?”

  That, and other things. Things I wouldn’t dare mention. “It was a shock finding them today. It was like everything I’d ever wanted had suddenly come true.”

  “I can only imagine,” he said, his voice a touch sad.

  Without thought, I reached out to him and rested my hand on top of his. “I may not have liked your father, but I am sorry on your behalf.”

  A faint smile crossed his lips. “Thanks. That means a lot to me, since you probably hated him more than anyone.”

  I almost laughed, but courtesy had me choking it back. “Well, maybe not the most.”

  “Let’s not talk about my father,” Oren said, shaking off his grim thoughts. “We were talking about your problems.”

  I groaned and returned to staring out at the trees. “Because I have so many.”

  “More than most. This whole plan sort of hinges on you. That must be a lot of weight on your shoulders.”

  The plan. Damn. I hadn’t even thought of that. Too busy being self-absorbed in my own love life apparently.

  I raked a hand down my face and laughed. “Would you believe that I hadn’t given it much thought yet? Still trying to process everything that happened today. My father and Logan coming back from the dead, killing those two guards, signing all the remaining witches up for this rebellion…”

  “Don’t forget I killed the third guard. So you aren’t alone in that.”

  That helped. A lot.

  “Then there’s all this atern I’m lugging around inside me, practically bursting at the seams.”

  “Yes, you do sort of…crackle.”

  I glanced at him. “I crackle?”

  “Sparkle?” He studied me through narrowed eyes. “Glow?”

  “I glow…”

  “You definitely…something.”

  My mouth pursed as I glanced down at my hands. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Maybe because you’re the one glowing. I can see it, though. You have this energy about you. You look powerful, beautiful.”

  My head snapped up. “Beautiful?”

  Oren looked away, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a blush to his cheeks. “Um, well, you know, magic has a certain attractive quality about it.”

  Nice cover up. I almost laughed.

  “I, uh, wanted to thank you. For today.”

  “Smooth change of topic,” I drolled.

  Oren nudged me with his shoulder. “Shup up and just take the compliment, all right? And yes, I’ve been meaning to thank you. You didn’t need to come back for me today. You could have run off with your father and Logan and never looked back. You would have been free from all this.”

  “But then you’d be dead,” I pointed out.

  “Hence, the thank you part. I realize what that cost you…with the guards and whatnot. I know it mustn’t be easy, uh, reaping…”

  I couldn’t recall a time I’d ever seen him stutter so much. “My father pointed out to me tonight that we do what we must to survive. That doesn’t excuse me, or forgive me for what I did, but I understand it a bit more now. The guards were going to kill you, and I just happened to kill them first.”

  Oren shot me a stunned look. “A very practical approach.”

  “Yes, well, we’ll see how I feel about it later. Right now, I’m banking on my father’s wisdom to help soothe the guilt.”

  “And your…friend doesn’t like me very much. He made sure I was clear on that fact when he settled into my room.”

  Why didn’t that surprise me? “Logan can be very outspoken.”

  “Mm. And this is all an experience I hope not to repeat with him anytime soon. Not that I care if he dislikes me. Believe it or not, it’s mutual.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “Men. Guess it doesn’t matter if you’re human or fae, you’re all the same.”

  “Yup. Lucky you, hey?”

  Yeah. Lucky me. “Why don’t you bunk with your uncle instead?”


  “And miss out on the bonding adventure of a lifetime?” Oren asked with wide innocent eyes. “Sharing a room with him just means I can do all the nasty things my brother used to do to me.”

  “Oh, no,” I moaned. “Dare I ask?”

  “Just the usual. Shaving cream and razors, glue and feathers…hand in a warm cup of water.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “After the way that jerk treated you today? He’ll be lucky if he has any body hair left by the end of the night.”

  I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter. I had no idea why this amused me so much, but I couldn’t bite it back. The thought of Logan waking up in the morning with no eyebrows or wet pants was almost too much to take in.

  “Jackass deserves more than that, but I can show some restraint.”

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Mm, and don’t forget it,” he said with a wink before turning to the house. “I should get inside. I know Markos wants to talk to me a bit more before we turn in for the night. See you in the morning?”

  I nodded. I wasn’t ready for sleep yet, and my cloak was keeping me warm enough. “Good night, Oren.”

  “Good night, Keira.”

  12

  Second born to Arik and Layne Brooke, Oren is descended from a long line of prestigious nobles. Few remember how his family rose to power, even fewer care. The Brookes have led Osvea through many troubling times, and most are loyal to their bloodline. Behind closed doors, however, the family is bloodthirsty. Rumors of assassinations and treason, rebellion and deception. In fact, no one knows the fate of Lady Layne Brooke—only that one morning, the sun rose, and she had vanished. When questioned, neither of the sons knew of his mother’s fate. It’s a secret their father will carry to his grave.

  —From Osvea: A History, by Michal Humner

  “Reaper! Reaper!”

  The sound of children shouting startled me as I strode out of the house. I lifted my head and stared across the yard, the sun reflecting off the snow and blinding me. Shielding my eyes, I peered across the way, stunned at the sight of three fae children rushing toward me.