Page 34 of Paris and the Reaper

EIGHTEEN

Paris had just finished shadingin some of the vine leaves he’d painted, adding yellow, brown, and red among the green, the valley of vineyards below awash with hues the likes of which he’d never seen in YB, when a voice came from behind him.

“How long have you been painting?”

He turned from the easel he’d set up under the pergola behind Mac’s villa, as Adam called it, and found a new person approaching, someone he hadn’t met since arriving at Monte Corvo. Not unusual—Liam was right, Mac’s place really was a base of operations—but this was a person he’d remember. Dressed in ripped jeans, a faded black tee, and combat boots, the woman was pixie petite, with tan skin, hazel eyes, and a septum ring through her nose. Her long green hair was styled in barrel curls that bounced as she made her way along the edge of the reflecting pool between the house and pergola, tossing peanuts to the crows as she approached.

“All my life,” he answered, once she stepped under the wooden trellis with him. “Even when I wasn’t supposed to.”

“No one should tell you not to do this,” she said with a jut of her chin at his painting. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s beautiful here.”

Smiling, she stepped to the end of the pergola and turned her face up to the sun. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Did you grow up here? Are you part of Mac’s family?” She was on the shorter side for a Kelley and lacked the dark eyes and straight noses they all seemed to have, but she shared his tan skin, a certain aesthetic in the dark clothing she wore, and the familiar signs of outward exhaustion, though with each second she stood in the sun, she seemed to brighten.

She lowered her face and turned back to him, hand extended. “I’m Mary, Icarus’s sister.”

“Oh!” The dyed hair and edgy aesthetic suddenly made sense. “I’ve heard a lot—” He slipped his hand into hers and lost his words, his eyes going wide and mouth rounding into anO. The energy that flowed from her, from her pure green aura, was blinding in its intensity. “What are you?”

“What do you think I am?”

Naturewas on the tip of his tongue—he was sure of it—and on the heels of that realization, so many others fell into place. Mac and team fighting against Chaos, seemingly at the heart of Nature’s cause, the sheer power of the magic around them, the way no one on the team referred to Mary by name or to what she so obviously was. “You’reher.”

One corner of her mouth kicked up, her smirk reminiscent of her brother’s, as were her words. “People have always underestimated you, haven’t they? He said you were smart.”

“Icarus is too kind,” he replied, and Mary hummed as she strolled back to the edge of the pergola, taking in another shot of sunshine before she claimed one of the loungers. “In fairness,” Paris added as he finished dotting in the road that snaked between the rows of vines, “I didn’t always lead with my head.”

“The world would be an awfully sad place if that’s all anyone did.”

Reminded of his other friend who typically led with his heart, Paris set aside his brush and sank into the chaise opposite her. “Do you know how Jason is doing?”

“Good,” she told him. “He’s taken well to the phoenix. Much better than others we’ve rescued. Having Kai bonded with him helps.”

“When can I see him?”

“In the next day or so, I think. We have to be sure he has control of the fire.”

“And Adam and Icarus, and the rest of the team? We didn’t need the infirmary, so that’s a good sign, right?” After the team had left yesterday, he’d helped Monte and Chaz ferry additional supplies down to the overflow barrel room beneath the villa according to Icarus’s instructions. A nursing student before he was turned, and still acquainted with those skills after becoming human again, Icarus was the unofficial team medic, thankfully not overseeing an infirmary full of injured this morning.

“No major injuries, so yes, that’s a good sign, but it’s been a long month already,” she said. “And we’re only halfway through it.” Exhaustion leaked into her voice again, but after a deep inhale, she seemed to shake it off, to settle back into her world. “There’s still work to be done in YB. They’ll come back as their jobs are done.” She shifted her gaze and smirk back to him. “Ask about who you want, Paris.”

He splayed a hand over his chest, over where he’d periodically tugged the past twenty-four hours and always received one in return. And done the same when he’d felt Mac tug from his end. The connection still vibrated there, warm and alive. “I know he’s fine.”

“Doesn’t make you not worried.” Her smirk smoothed into a gentle smile. “He’s fine, but it may take him longer. He’s working with the other reapers in the city.”

“Was it bad there?”

“Not as bad as it could have been if your father had still been alive. Or if you hadn’t given us that list of potential allies. It put us ahead, on a lot of fronts.”

“I’m glad it was helpful.”

“I have some other questions.” She stood and withdrew her phone, gesturing with it. “If you don’t mind taking a look?”

“Of course not.” He patted the spot on the chaise next to him, and she sat close so he could see the screen.

“You told Mac your father had maps. Do you remember these locations or any discussion of them?” She spread her fingers on the screen, zooming in, then moving the map to show him each spot in YB that had been marked with a red X.

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