Grim Lost: A reaper's tale (Reaper Files Book 3)

by Nicky Graves

“To take down Azrael.” I shrugged. “I have no other choice.”

  He laughed. “Human brains are complex, yet it astounds me how stupid people are. There is always another choice.”

  “Like what? Azrael’s not going to magically decide that he wants to be a good father. He wants me dead.”

  “Yes. He’s working on a way to break the tie and kill you.”

  “And, no thanks to you, he already has Basole. My only option is the mortal blade.”

  He sighed and muttered something about useless humans.

  “If you have something to say, then just say it,” I said. “Otherwise, leave.”

  “I don’t know how you’re Azrael’s daughter. It boggles even my mind.”

  “Is that all?” I asked.

  “No. The only way Azrael can kill a reaper is by using his scythe.”

  “I know.”

  “Obviously not. His scythe is a part of him. Think of it like an extra arm. It can never be used against him because it’s a part of him. And it will never kill you because it senses your shared DNA.”

  “I know all this. What are you trying to tell me?”

  “That you’re the worst excuse for an heir to the reaper throne.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Anything else?”

  “There is no mortal blade.”

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “Never has been.”

  “But the old demon woman said to find the mortal blade.”

  “You mean this woman?” he asked, changing forms before my eyes. He went from a man in his twenties to an ancient woman with white eyes.

  “It was you?” I asked. “Why would you send me on this useless mission?”

  I had wasted months looking for something that didn’t exist!

  He changed back to his other form. “There has never been a mortal blade. But you have the power to make one. A scythe like Azrael’s. I was hoping you’d figure it out. But the only thing you’ve figured out is that juble trees have interesting side effects if touched.”

  I shuddered to remember the spiny trees. How was I supposed to know I’d end up covered head to toe in purple pimples?

  “Not your finest look,” he said.

  He had seen me? Had he been watching me?

  This whole situation sucked, but knowing Lucifer was watching and running me in circles made it even worse. I was just an amusement for him.

  “Even if I did have the power to make a scythe,” I said, “wouldn’t I have the same problem as Azrael? The scythe would sense our shared DNA.”

  “You have an advantage.”

  “What advantage?”

  He simply smirked. He wasn’t going to tell me whatever secret he was keeping.

  “Are you saying I can make a scythe that can tell the difference between the two of us? I can kill Azrael?”

  “Anything is possible. But you really need to stop wandering realms looking for phantom blades. It’s beneath an heir. You’re making your dear old dad look bad.”

  “This is your fault. You sent me on this wild goose chase! Why would I believe anything you tell me?” I challenged. “You’re responsible for Ranger’s death. You posed as an old woman to get me to follow up on something that doesn’t exist. And now you’re saying that I should forge a scythe. Plus, you’re the devil! What do you want from me?”

  He simply smiled. “A little entertainment. And you’ve proven you can provide just that.” And with a wink, he disappeared.

  I cursed.

  Was I just a joke to him? The answer to that was obvious. I was a toy for his amusement. Just like when he pitted Azrael and me against each other in the demon realm, he was up to no good again.

  However, I couldn’t just dismiss what he had said about forging my own scythe. I’d have to research to see if what he said held any truth.

  After wasting months on a futile search, I was back to square one.

  2

  Wiltone groaned and laid her forehead on the long, worn library table. “I can’t take it anymore,” she complained. “We’ve been talking in circles with the librarian, and he hasn’t told us anything useful.”

  “But who else would know about Azrael’s scythe?” I asked.

  “The elders.”

  I pinned her with an annoyed glance. “You know I can’t talk to them. They’d throw me back in jail.”

  I still hadn’t heard from the elders, which made me nervous. After breaking out of jail, I thought they’d be on my heels.

  Wiltone sighed as she straightened. “But the librarian hasn’t come up with any new leads.”

  “The librarian said Azrael made his scythe. So, I must be able to make one too.”

  “So, we just go grab some metal and pound away?” Her sarcastic tone wasn’t lost on me.

  “We don’t have enough information. The problem is the library was built well after Life broke himself into pieces. I have a feeling only Life and Azrael know the answers to some of our questions.”

  “It’s possible,” Wiltone said. “I wish I could help you more. I just don’t remember.”

  “Let’s say Lucifer is right and I can make a scythe that can destroy Azrael. Azrael still has Basole. Would I be able to defeat both of them with the scythe?”

  Wiltone shrugged. “I don’t know about the scythe, but as long as Azrael doesn’t collect all the stones, he will never fully have the power he desires.”

  Life should have never broken himself apart. He should have fought Azrael.

  “We don’t know anything for sure,” Wiltone said as she tapped into my mind. “The people who gave the librarian knowledge didn’t know the truth themselves. We are spinning our wheels second-guessing everything. And I’d rather do something less tedious than think about Azrael.”

  “Like what?”

  “You really need new shoes.”

  I glanced down at my shoes, which were being held together by duct tape. “I don’t have time. Librarian, are there any stories about how Azrael forged his scythe?”

  “There is only one mention.” The librarian’s voice sounded from everywhere and yet there were no speakers. “However, the source isn’t verified.”

  “Tell it to me anyway.”

  “It has been said that in the Githmor Desert a fire has burned since creation. Local legends claim it to be the fire of their god, Rikvol. Scholars believe it to be the work of gasses collected in a well below the planet’s crust.”

  “So Azrael went to the desert, and then what?” I asked.

  “Legends say one must make a blood sacrifice to the god to have a wish granted. It is said that Azrael cut off his arm and threw it into the well in order for Rikvol to grant him the scythe that only Azrael could wield.”

  Sounded ludicrous. Plus, Azrael wasn’t missing an arm.

  Which was good, because I didn’t have any intentions of hacking off limbs.

  “Librarian, are there any other stories about people using Rikvol’s fire to gain other things besides scythes?”

  “Many. None can be proven.”

  I sighed. At this point I really had no idea what to do, and I was exhausted. I’d ponder the legend some more before making a decision whether to pursue it.

  “Wiltone, let’s go back to the pod. I need a break.”

  My head spun with what-ifs.

  I had nothing concrete to go on. No absolute way I should proceed. And the person I wanted to turn to was probably too angry with me to ask him for advice. I knew leaving without Lawson was to protect him, but I’m sure he didn’t see it that way.

  I walked past the towers of faded books and yellowing paper. When I stepped out into the dead zone, I was about to walk to my pod. But I stopped, wondering if my imagination was playing tricks on me.

  Lawson stood only a few feet away. His gray gaze targeted me accusingly. The precise hairstyle he used to have was gone. His hair was longer, unruly. It suited the feral gleam in his eyes.

  “Where have you been?” Lawson demanded.

  Yep. H
e was here, and he was furious.

  “Looking for the mortal blade,” I said.

  “You said we had to work as a team. I agreed, and then you took off.”

  “You were busy fighting with Vance.”

  “That was months ago, and I haven’t heard from you since. I tried calling. I even broke into the prison in the Lost King realm looking for you. And believe me, that was not pleasant.”

  I didn’t think he’d go out of his way to look for me. Sure, he might check my pod and my mom’s house. But break into the scary prison filled with giant, hungry spiders?

  I shivered at the memory.

  “I even broke into Azrael’s place,” Lawson snapped.

  Wiltone sighed. “How romantic.”

  “It wasn’t romantic,” we both said in unison.

  “It was stupid,” I said. “Why would you break into Azrael’s place?”

  “Why do you think? You were gone. I had no idea where you were. You didn’t answer texts or calls.”

  “Now you know what it feels like.”

  Lawson had left me behind several times.

  “Sometimes I forget just how immature you are until you say crap like that,” Lawson barked. “So this was just to get back at me?”

  “Of course not. And compared to a five-hundred-year-old, of course I’m immature. Did it ever enter into your mind that I didn’t want you to get hurt or end up like Ranger? Azrael can kill you with his scythe. Now that he has the black stone, it makes him even more dangerous. I don’t want you to die. Not because of Azrael’s vendetta against me.”

  I felt the pull of death. Someone was dying, and my reaper radar went on full alert. I cursed as the clenching in my stomach grew stronger. I didn’t have time for this.

  “I have to go,” I said.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “I can do this on my own.”

  “I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

  Lawson reached out to take my hand. Normally, when he held my hand it was to shift us somewhere. But this time, he just stood there and looked at me. Like really looked at me.

  Either I was totally misreading signals or he wanted to kiss me. But . . . we were just fighting. And, yes, it was good to see him. All I wanted was for him to wrap me into a hug and pretend this world didn’t exist. But how did he instantly go from outraged to soft-eyed and purr-worthy?

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “What?”

  Where did that come from?

  Maybe if I was dressed up and my hair was done, I might almost believe him. But I was sweaty, smelly, and I hadn’t run a brush through my hair in days.

  And then I realized. Lawson was touching me, and Wiltone was putting her passion whammy on him. This wasn’t Lawson saying I looked beautiful and staring at me as if I was his reason to live. It was the effects of Wiltone.

  Vance appeared next to me, looking lost for a moment until he saw Lawson holding my hand. A snarl ripped from his throat as he stepped menacingly toward Lawson, who stared at me as if I was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

  I tried to let go of Lawson’s hand, but he held on tight.

  “Vance, back off,” I said as I wedged myself between him and Lawson as a barrier. “Lawson is only acting like this because of Wiltone.”

  Vance didn’t back away. In fact, now I was caught between them.

  This was going to end badly.

  But as Vance tried to move me out of his way, he touched me, and his fingers lingered.

  “You smell good,” Vance said, his fingers drifting along my shoulders and up to my neck.

  “I don’t smell good. I smell like a gym locker.” Dammit. “Wiltone, stop it!”

  “I’m not doing anything,” she said innocently as she stood off to the side. Her smile said otherwise.

  “Please. This is getting awkward,” I said, trying to pull away only to find I was stuck between two bodies and four hands.

  Someone grabbed my ass. Vance.

  “When was the last time you gave into a little passion?” she asked.

  “You know the answer to that.”

  “Exactly. It’s time to let go.”

  “No. This is not the time. Definitely not the time.” I dodged Lawson’s lips. “They’re brothers. They hate each other. They have no interest in me. This isn’t right.”

  “Well, I can’t help you,” Wiltone said. “It’s because they’re touching you.”

  “Where’s Treble?” I asked, trying to sense him inside of me. “Normally he becomes explosive if anyone even attempts to kiss me.”

  I swatted Vance’s drifting hand, but I didn’t dodge his other hand in time as it found its way up. I pushed hard against him. He stumbled back, dazed. He then shook his head as if clearing it.

  He cursed. “What the hell was that?”

  “Wiltone the Red. Surely you remember her. She was an accessory to Juliette’s vampire sex house.”

  Vance’s lips twitched up into a fond smile while I shuddered.

  “I love you,” Lawson said right before he planted a kiss on my surprised lips. He was only there for a second before Vance ripped him away, snarling again.

  Dazed, Lawson looked from me to Vance and then back at me. “Did I just say . . .”

  “You were under the effects of Wiltone,” I said. “Just forget it happened.”

  “I won’t forget it happened,” Vance said, shoving Lawson.

  “Vance, you were under her influence too,” I said.

  “But you’re mine!”

  Before the claim, Vance had wanted nothing to do with me. I had to remember this territorial act was all because of the claim.

  My stomach twisted in pain. I had to answer the call of death. Without a choice, I shifted, letting my body follow the call.

  When I emerged, I saw a woman in a snow-covered field. She was walking away from a sedan that had taken serious abuse from an oak tree. I glanced in the sedan window to find a body behind the driver’s seat. Blood dripped down the steering wheel.

  It was her.

  I hurried to catch up to the woman and touched her arm. I then quickly shifted to the transition room with her. Thankfully, the line was short, and I was able to shepherd her to the keeper who sat at a desk, typing on an old typewriter with no paper.

  I never knew what he typed. I assumed maybe it was the names of the dead and where they were being transported to. But the keeper didn’t like to talk. The only thing he would ever say is the door number to open for the soul to cross. And it was always door three.

  Once, I had made the keeper livid, and he threw me into door seventy-one, which was the demon realm where I met Lucifer and lost Ranger.

  I shook off the memory.

  The keeper never looked up, which was normal. “Door three,” he said.

  I ushered the woman to the door and held it open for her. It was the first time she looked at me.

  “Where am I?” she asked.

  “Exactly where you belong.”

  I didn’t have answers when people asked what would happen to them. But when the souls looked through the open door, whatever confusion or fear they might have had disappeared, and they stepped through to the other side. It was no different for this woman.

  Heading out the exit door, I returned to the dead zone.

  I needed to shower, change clothes, and then figure out my next move.

  I’d also have to figure out what to do with Lawson and Vance.

  But first, a shower.

  Standing in the shower, I scrubbed off the travel filth layered on my skin. Once I had all of the dirt gone, I was about to turn off the water when I heard someone open the bathroom door.

  “Wiltone?” I asked, knowing she had been weeding through the closet to find me the perfect outfit. Knowing her, it’d be pink and glittery. I’d wear it, only because her curated wardrobe didn’t leave me many options. And the only thing I planned to do for the rest of
the day was relax, regroup, and get a good night’s sleep. And, of course, plan my next step.

  It was stupid of me to race after a mortal blade that I wasn’t sure existed. I should have just continued to look for the stones. Now I was further behind in my quest and Azrael was probably on his way to gathering more stones. Maybe that had been Lucifer’s plan all along. To distract me.

  The shower curtain flung to the side. I squeaked and wrapped my arms around myself.

  Vance glared at me, still holding the curtain in his clenched hand.

  3

  “Vance!” I scolded as I tried to escape from his harsh glare, but he still had possession of the curtain, and my hands were otherwise occupied concealing as much skin as possible.

  “I didn’t want to claim you,” he said with a distinct growl to his voice. “But I did it to protect you! And you don’t even give a damn.”

  “I didn’t ask you to claim me. I can protect myself.”

  “Really?” His eyes darkened as he shut off the shower and stepped in, crowding my space. “How is that going for you now?”

  “Vance, I’m fine on my own,” I said.

  It wasn’t the total truth. But I had Wiltone and Treble who occasionally helped me. I didn’t need anyone else, especially if it caused their death.

  “I don’t need your protection.”

  “You’d rather have Lawson’s protection?” he snapped.

  I stared flatly at him. Lawson and Vance needed serious couples therapy.

  “Vance, I just want to find the stones and not die or get anyone else killed in the process.”

  Some of his anger dissipated, but his rigid stance was still prickly. “Let me help.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to.”

  “I don’t. But this claim is growing stronger than I anticipated.” Whatever anger he had left his eyes as he looked at me. His hand reached up, his fingers touching the ends of my damp hair. “Can’t you feel it?”

  I shook my head because I didn’t want to tell him the truth. But I knew what he meant. There were moments over the last few months that had me wanting to turn around and see Vance. Nights that I was sure he was lying next to me only to turn and find I was alone.