Page 73 of Deadmen's Queen

“I am.”

“Good. It’s time to go.”

She took a deep breath, and gave me, Tristan and Nate a small smile, raised her head and walked down the stone steps into the hall. The Reapers fell silent, each watching her as she walked between them. Pride filled my chest as I watched her move through them like a fucking queen. Like Persephone, Paige truly was transforming. Blossoming into something none of us could have ever predicted.

The Reapers watched her go, ascending the stairs at the end of the hall, her pale, ghostly form disappearing up the stairs into the darkness.

I sat back on my throne, my eyes never leaving the path she’d taken. The half-hour head start began ticking down, and I had to fight to calm myself, to keep myself from rising and sprinting after her. The hunt was only beginning; I would have her soon enough.

The other Reapers sat down at the tables, drinking and laughing together. Sometimes including Nate, Tristan and myself in their conversations. I smiled, and laughed and talked with them, some of them good friends, but in the back of my mind, all I could think about was Paige.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, indicating the timer was finally up, and I stood. Tristan and Nate followed and one by one the Reapers fell silent and got to their feet. They moved with a predator’s grace, forming a line by the door. Their masks gleamed in the dim light – thirty-four skulls waiting to hunt their prey. They were silent, their faces hidden behind their masks showing no emotion. I pulled my skull mask over my head and nodded at Nate and Tristan as they did the same. The adrenaline pumping through my veins was almost intoxicating - there was nothing like Hunt Night. Tonight was not about control anymore, it was about submission. Tonight, Paige was going to learn just how much she belonged to us.

I led the Reapers up the darkened stairs, and through the columns of the folly. The forest loomed dark and foreboding around us, the moon at its weakest on this night, and casting no light. This was Persephone’s final dark trial, her lowest point, but I knew that Paige would rise to meet the challenge. I turned to the Reapers, all silently awaiting my command.

“Bring her back alive and unharmed,” I commanded. “Go.”

The Deadmen’s Club split into groups, stalking in different directions. I felt a quiet satisfaction at their disciplined formation and tactics. Nate had trained them well. They were predators, swift and lethal. They vanished into the trees, seeking her like wraiths, silent and deadly. The Hunt was on. Tonight, Paige was mine to claim.

As the Reapers disappeared into the cloak of night, I turned to Tristan and Nate. Their masks reflected the moonlight, leaving their eyes hidden within the dark hollows of the skulls. We exchanged nods before dispersing ourselves, each of us choosing a different direction. Tristan decided to cut through the centre of the forest, while Nate opted to sweep around to the lake, using his knowledge of the terrain to corral her towards us. I stalked quietly in the opposite direction, circling around towards the crumbling ruins near the edge of our territory.

The forest was alive with sounds–the rustle of leaves underfoot, soft curses whispered through the trees as some of the more inebriated Reapers stumbled clumsily in their search.

The thrill of the hunt pulsed through my veins like a live wire sparking my senses awake. Every crunch of leaves or snap of twigs had me poised and ready to react. In these moments I was not Bastian Blake, head of Hades fraternity or heir to an international empire. I was simply a hunter tracking his prey.

The familiar silhouette of the derelict ruins came into view – twisted metal and crumbling stones blanketed by climbing ivy. My heart pounded in my chest as I skirted around its perimeter, eyes scanning for any signs of disturbance, but there was nothing. I moved further afield, scanning the trees for any pale flicker that might reveal her presence, but I found nothing.

After an hour, I stopped and called Nate.

“Anything?”

“Nothing. Tris hasn’t seen her either, and I haven’t heard from any of the Reapers.”

“She couldn’t have gone this far out, surely. Someone should have found her by now,” I said, worry starting to creep into my mind.

“Give it another ten minutes,” said Nate. “She might be cleverer than we’re giving her credit for.”

I hung up and carried on walking. Nate was right. Paige was full of surprises. I just had the strongest feeling something was very wrong. Where the hell was she?

Chapter Twenty Seven

PAIGE

It was cold outside in the forest, the frosty February air raising goosebumps along my arms and I rubbed my hands over my arms, staring out into the vast wilderness. Anticipation bubbled in my veins and I took a few steps forward, then smiled, and turned, heading back towards the folly. Skirting silently around the outside, I found a place that couldn’t be seen easily from the front of the clubhouse, or from the car park set further back in the trees. I smiled at my cleverness, sitting down in the shadows behind one of the columns, and leaning back against the cold wall as I waited for the Hunt to begin.

After what seemed like hours had passed, I heard a noise from the front of the folly. I crept forward to a place where an evergreen shrub had grown up next to the building, its long foliage concealing me as I peered through, watching the Reapers file out into the clearing. I crouched low, feeling the damp earth seep through my white trainers, the scent of pine and wet soil filling my nostrils.

Shadows moved. Figures shrouded in darkness, gliding between the trees like spectres. Reapers. They were leaving. I counted them as they disappeared into the darkness. Thirty-seven, just like Bast had said. The last three to leave, I guessed, were Hades and his DeathKnights. I was about to straighten up, when another Reaper darted out into the trees, a little way beyond the others. Hmm, thirty-eight Reapers. Maybe I had miscounted. I gave him a few minutes to get far enough away, then stood up and stretched.

I wandered around the folly, looking longingly at the doorway that led down into warmth, but I guessed that would be breaking the rules. I waited a little longer, until I could no longer hear snapping twigs or cursing, and then headed into the woods, choosing the direction I thought I’d seen Bast take. I crept forward, my steps quiet on the damp earth. The night wrapped around me like a shroud, and my eyes strained for any sign, any trace of where Bast had gone. I found a path and began to follow it.

A twig snapped under my foot and I froze, cursing my carelessness.

“Get it together, Paige,” I muttered. My pulse thrummed in my ears, louder than the sounds of the night.

Branches reached out like skeletal fingers, trying to ensnare me. I ducked, wove between them, my focus solely on the path ahead.

After a while, the path opened up into a clearing, where the ruins of another much older folly stood. The stone walls only reached to my height, the roof long since collapsed, and I picked my way carefully through the boulders, being careful not to trip.

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