Page 48 of Guarded By the Reaper

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. “I promise.”

She smiled, reaching for the doorknob. As her fingers closed around it, a blinding light spilled from the edges of the door. Isabelle turned the knob, and as the door swung open, I caught a glimpse of something beyond. It wasn’t pearly gates or fiery pits, but since this wasn’t my afterlife and I wasn’t supposed to know, I couldn’t comprehend the few details that I saw.

Isabelle took a deep breath, then stepped forward into the light. As she crossed the threshold, she looked back one last time, a peaceful smile on her face. And then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

The door remained, its edges still glowing softly. I stared at it, wondering not for the first time what lay beyond. And then it struck me that I might find out sooner rather than never.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Millie

After Grim left, Elysia and I finished making the apple pie. The sweet aroma filled the kitchen as we slid it into the oven. While Elysia sat down to munch on a snack, I went to use the bathroom.

As I walked down the hallway, a strange sound caught my attention. Scratching and banging echoed from behind the sunroom door. My heart leaped into my throat. Someone – or something – was in there, trying to get out. I was torn between investigating and running away. The sunroom had been locked since I’d summoned Ma-Vasha and made the dreadful deal. I’d kept it off-limits, convinced the room held some lingering curse. The last thing I wanted was for Elysia to go in there.

The noises ceased abruptly, plunging the hallway into an eerie silence. I held my breath, straining to hear. Nothing. The sudden quiet unnerved me even more than the commotion had. Despite every instinct screaming at me to turn back, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to check it out. With trembling hands, I took out the key from my pocket and approached the door. I always kept the key with me; I thought it was safer that way than hiding it somewhere and Elysia finding it. The metal felt ice-cold against my palm as I inserted it into the lock. The mechanism turned with a soft click. I pushed the door open, peeking inside cautiously. The room looked exactly as I’d left it – peaceful, bathed in the morning sunlight. For a split second, relief washed over me, and I took a step inside.

Wrong move.

An invisible force yanked me forward, and the world dissolved into chaos. I was spinning, tumbling through absolute darkness. My stomach lurched as if I’d been thrown from a great height. Freezing air rushed past, howling in my ears. I couldn’t breathe.I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t tell up from down. My mind reeled, desperately trying to make sense of what was happening. Panic clawed at my chest as I spun faster and faster.

I landed hard on a cold, wet surface, the impact knocking the wind out of me. For a moment, I lay there, struggling to catch my breath. The stone floor beneath me was unforgiving, its chill creeping into my bones. The damp seeped through my clothes, leaving me uncomfortably clammy. Slowly, I pushed myself up, wincing at the ache in my muscles. As I got to my feet, I took in my surroundings, and my heart sank.

I was in a vast hall that looked like it belonged in a medieval castle. Massive stone walls loomed around me, tapestries hanging on them, faded and tattered. Through tall, narrow windows, I glimpsed a stormy sky. Rain lashed against the glass, driven by howling winds that seemed to moan through the castle’s corridors. The castle appeared to be perched high on a cliff, giving me a dizzying view of the landscape below – jagged rocks and churning waves stretched as far as the eye could see. A fireplace dominated one wall, but the fire did little to warm the huge space. It flickered weakly, casting dancing shadows that only added to the room’s oppressive atmosphere. The air hung heavy and damp, carrying a musty scent. I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself in a futile attempt to ward off the chill that seemed to penetrate to my very core.

In the center of the room stood a long table, its dark wood scarred and pitted with age. Ornate candelabras dotted its surface, their candles burning with an unnatural, bluish flame. My gaze traveled to the head of the table. There, watching me with glittering eyes, sat Ma-Vasha.

She was terrifyingly thin, her skin stretched tight over sharp bones. Claws tipped her elongated fingers, and when she smiled, I caught a glimpse of sharp teeth. Her hair was a wild tangle of silver and black. Her dress was made of some coarse materialthat looked as uncomfortable as everything else in this room. It hung on her frame like a sackcloth. I found myself puzzled by that. Shouldn’t a being of such immense power surround herself with luxury? But everything here seemed designed for discomfort, from the hard chairs to the rough stone beneath my feet.

As I studied Ma-Vasha, movement in the corners of the room caught my eye. Poppets stood silently, their blank faces turned towards me. They were unnaturally still, like dolls brought to life.

Ma-Vasha’s lips curled into a cruel smile as she leaned forward. The candlelight cast dancing shadows across her gaunt face, making her appear even more otherworldly.

“I’m done playing your silly little game, Camellia. It’s time to pay up.”

A chill ran down my spine, and I struggled to find my voice. My mouth felt dry, my tongue heavy as I forced out a single word. “Game?”

She waved a bony hand dismissively, her long nails catching the light. “I thought the Poppets would convince you, or at the very least, poison you slowly with their venomous bite. But you had to go and hire that Grim Reaper as your bodyguard, didn’t you?”

She knew about Grim. How much did she know? Had she been watching us this whole time? I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, trying to ward off the bone-deep chill that seemed to permeate this place.

“The Poppets have failed me,” Ma-Vasha continued, her voice dripping with disdain. Her fingers drummed on the table, an impatient rhythm that echoed in the vast hall. “They can’t get to you in your house or in your dreams. So, I decided to take care of things myself.”

“Ma-Vasha, please. I swear I’ll drink the poison and offer you my soul. I just need a little more time.”

Her eyes narrowed. “More time? You dare ask for more?”

“Please,” I begged. “Be merciful. I have every intention of holding up my end of the bargain.”

Ma-Vasha’s laughter echoed through the hall, a sound devoid of warmth or humor. “Merciful? Oh, you foolish child. I do not negotiate.”

I felt despair claw at my chest, and before I knew it, I was on my knees. The cold, damp stone floor bit into my skin, and I felt a sharp sting as my knees scraped against the rough surface.

“Please,” I whispered, looking up at her through tear-filled eyes. “I’m begging you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Ma-Vasha’s gaze bore into me, and I felt exposed, vulnerable. The darkness of the room seemed to deepen, broken only by the blue flames of the candles. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, and I struggled to draw a full breath. My heart pounded in my ears.

After what felt like an eternity, Ma-Vasha spoke, her voice low and dangerous. “You swear you’re good for it?”

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