Page 25 of Destined to the Reaper

“Leave!” Cornelius shouted at his apprentices, his face twisted with fury.

They didn’t have to be told twice. They all but ran back to their Dread Horses that patiently waited a good fifty meters away.

“But to answer your unspoken question,” Haroth continued mockingly, “yes, I would kill my brother. Considering the foul way in which you are using him,” he added waving at the mangled remains of the manticore, “killing you both would be me showing him mercy. So you go ahead and threaten me again, Necromancer. And then you’ll find out whether I can or would kill you both.”

Seething with rage, Cornelius clenched his teeth but wisely kept silent. Like the manticore had done earlier, Haroth locked eyes with my host, but he was looking directly at me. An odd thrill coursed through me when his consciousness brushed against mine. But the brief wave of joy that contact brought me quickly turned into dread when my brother frowned. I didn’t need him to speak to know he had realized what was happening with me.

Please don’t give me away!

I couldn’t speak with him, only pray that he wouldn’t drop any hint that might further raise Cornelius’s suspicions.

To my utter relief, my brother turned on his heel without another word. The air blurred around him, and the discrete ripping sound resonated half a beat before he vanished.

With an endless series of the foulest curses I had ever heard, Cornelius ordered the women to come back and swiftly complete the task. With the manticore dead, the necromancer was forced to expand even more of my regeneration abilities to maintain as much of the magic properties of the creature’s organs. By the time the gruesome task was completed, I was utterly drained.

And Cornelius knew it.

At this point, there was no denying that he suspected something was amiss. I could only pray that he didn’t understand yet what it was and what to do about it. Kali needed to transfer me into my own vessel in all haste.

To my dismay, instead of embarking right away on the long journey back home, Cornelius spent the next day plundering the manticore’s lair and studying his magic well. The worst part of it all was that the great distance once again prevented me from warning Kali of my current predicament. I would have given anything to be able to contact her. Considering my current state, I couldn’t have given her more of myself, but feeding from her would have greatly improved my situation.

My only blessing through it all was that Cornelius didn’t draw on my magic during the remainder of our stay here nor when we finally set back on the way home on the third day. This proved the most terrifying and distressing seventy-two hours of the past few centuries.

Cornelius had now completely blocked his thoughts from me. That he would totally keep me in the dark confirmed that he was either on to me or up to something terrible. Whatever he was planning, I had no doubt he would set it in motion the moment we got home.

As I faded in the background, begging for my energy to replenish quickly, I prayed to all the Gods and powers that be that Kali didn’t give up on me thinking I had reneged on our agreement.

Chapter 7

Kali

For the twentieth time—which felt more like a thousand—I glanced at my watch. I’d been sitting in the clearing by the circle for at least four hours now. I didn’t understand what could be holding him up so late. He hadn’t attempted to respond to the summons, not even to give it the ‘pause’ signal. As I feared leaving it active for too long a stretch to avoid alerting Cornelius, I paused its call. Once every twenty minutes or so, I would reactivate it only for a few seconds as a nudge.

Despite his annoyance with me last night that I wouldn’t give him my soul, I didn’t believe for one second Pharos would back out of this. Not this far in, and especially not with this being his one true hope of regaining his freedom. In the end, even if I keeled over while attempting to exit the crypt for not caving in to his request, it wouldn’t change the beneficial outcome for him. Pharos would be free.

Plus I still felt his essence inside me.

Although I couldn’t tap into his Reaper powers, I had noticed a significant boost to my magic abilities since the first time wemated. After last night, it had gone up another notch. As it would make no sense for Pharos to give me a part of himself and then just bounce, I could only assume something was interfering with his ability to come back to me.

I didn’t want to give in to panic and assume the worst. And yet, my mind kept wondering if Cornelius had discovered our plans and further shackled Pharos. The complete silence significantly fueled that fear. Did his little stunt of teleporting to me last night expose him? Had his presence inside the necromancer faded so much it revealed the plot?

By the fifth hour, I gave up and returned to my house, feeling defeated and extremely concerned. I made my way to bed, jumping at every sound, every sensation, imagining it was a sign from Pharos.

While I initially embarked on this crazy mission for the sake of my brother, I couldn’t deny the genuine worry constricting my heart for Pharos. Sure, he’d proven to be a fantastic lover. But it went deeper than that. I actually cared about him. There was something about being in his mere presence that lifted my spirit. While a man acting possessive towards me usually had my hackles up in a blink, I irrationally liked it coming from Pharos, even though I pushed back when he did. His almost obsessive need to own my soul, the way he described its beauty and how it affected him, and especially how his voice dropped an octave whenever he called me his bride did wondrous things to me. A part of me genuinely liked the idea of being claimed by him.

I was developing quite a crush for Pharos.

It didn’t make sense to the extent that we’d had very few conversations that hadn’t focused on our mission. I knew next to nothing about him, not even how Cornelius managed to trap him to begin with. From what brief interactions we’ve had, Pharos seemed honest and honorable. Although assertive, he never gave me the impression of being bossy. No matter how much hedisliked my decisions—and clearly expressed his opinion to that effect—he ultimately respected my choices and didn’t try to bully or shame me for them.

I liked that a lot.

Can I see myself pursuing a relationship with him when this is all said and done?

That thought gave me pause. Right now, I couldn’t be certain if the way he was acting with me was a true reflection of his personality. I was his ticket to freedom. How did I know he wasn’t keeping a potential darker side in check until he got what he wanted? What would he be like in his normal everyday life? What did he even look like in the flesh?

Does he even have flesh?

Once again, I was struck by how clueless I was about him. I’d never seen a Reaper in person before. From all that I had read about them, mortals usually only saw them in their full glory at the time of death. The few exceptions were high-level sorcerers, and especially necromancers. But even then, those with arcane powers rarely could see them fully, only the hooded figure, often faceless, wielding a scythe. By most accounts, only a skeleton lurked beneath that usually black robe. Was that Pharos’s case?

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