Page 3 of A Shadow in the Reaping
Holy fuck.
Holy fucking fuck.
Fuuuuuuuuck.
This is it. This is how I die. Five thousand fucking years I've been alive, and I'm gonna die behind Cheese Louise.
They've found me. After all this time. They found me in fucking Sanford, of all places.
...fuck.
The Reaper's gaze makes a slow path across my face as though memorizing every detail. He's probably savoring the moment. He probably wants to see the look in my eyes when he slips his sword between my ribs. He's about to be famous among his clan and the anticipation must be almost as great as the victory itself.
"Are you skilled with a blade?" he asks.
He wants me to... fight him? ... That's a little sadistic, considering he's, like, twice my size andhe's a fucking Reaper. He's born to take immortal lives. I might be a great predator and all but a Reaper is hard to kill.Reallyhard. And I would know.
Still... I'll take any chance I can get, no matter how small.
I nod.
"Good," he says. He lifts his hand from my shoulder and withdraws a second silver sword from a scabbard strapped across his back. "Werewolves are coming. They've caught your scent. I'm here to reap the Alpha for the Crime of Abomination. Defend yourself."
De-whatmyself?
The Reaper takes a step back from me. His gaze is snagged on mine like a hook in the gills of a fish. I'm still trying to work out exactly what in the hell is going on and why I'm not dead. I realize I'm staring at him with a dumbass look on my face and I try to school my expression into something that looks less confused and panicky. I'm not convinced by my efforts and by the frown on the Reaper's face, neither is he.
"I am Ashen of House Urbigu. What is your name?"
I nearly burst out laughing. He has no fucking clue. By some insane miracle, he must not have heard me sing to Jessie. He has no idea he's standing in front of the vampire bounty kill of an immortal lifetime.
If I answer his question, he'll be pretty quick to figure it out. Not because of my name, I could give him any name I wanted. Bertha. Ethel. I could even give him the random computer bee-boop of Grimes and Elon Musk's baby name. If I speak one word, he'll hear it in my voice. He'll know exactly who I am.
Ashen of House Urbigu narrows his eyes at me. He opens his mouth to repeat his question.
And I never thought I'd say this before, but thank fuck for werewolves.
Chapter 3
It starts with a silver mist. It creeps toward us until it envelops our legs. Ashen gives me a last sweeping look, his gaze lingering a fraction longer on my lips as his eyes burn through me. He still expects an answer to his question about my name, I guess, but he's not getting one. I glance at Jessie, who smiles wistfully into the distance, then back at the Reaper standing before me.
"You can still have him afterward, if you wish. If you survive. I am not here to come between you and your meal," Ashen says, his eyes carving a disinterested, repulsed path across the human. In a swift motion, he clips Jessie's temple with the handle of his sword, rendering him unconscious. He then turns his gaze to me with the same disinterested expression. For an instant, the flame brightens within his pupils. "Make no mistake, vampire. I am not here to protect you. I am here to reap the Alpha. If you manage to kill a werewolf or two whilst defending yourself it will make my job easier."
A werewolf or two... this Reaper motherfucker. Just because I haven't said a word doesn't mean I can't look after myself. I crinkle my brow and look as fiercely vampiric as I can against a Reaper, leaning just a little toward him in a challenge as I swing my borrowed sword in an arc. The Reaper tilts his head, his eyes narrowing even further.
"I'm sorry to interrupt what is clearly a heartfelt moment, but I must insist we take the vampire," a man says from the shadow and mist of the alley. Ashen lets his gaze linger on me a moment longer before turning to face the pairs of eyes lurking in the distance. They shine in the dim light like those of a cat. The man who spoke steps into a thin shaft of moonlight filtering into the gloom. A young face but silver hair, a sharp suit, a new Omega watch that glints in the light as he adjusts his cufflinks. He smiles. "Ah, a Reaper. Whatever her crime, our pack is happy to carry out your sentence. No need to trouble yourself with a solitary vampire."
"I'm not here for her," Ashen says. "Bring me your Alpha."He takes a step forward into the mist. His broad back obstructs some of the shadowy figures of the pack from my view. There must be at least thirty werewolves here, more than enough to subdue your average vampire.
The man laughs, running his fingers down the front of his blazer. I can see the impeccable tailoring, even with the distance and dim light. It's another thing I guess you humans got right. My eyesight is kickass, and I like the symmetry of good stitching. Shame he's about to ruin such a nice jacket.
"Tisk-tisk, Reaper," the man says. "You didn't say please."
"I need no permission from your clan. Your Alpha has committed the Crime of Abomination. He has made a hybrid with the blood of both vampire and werewolf."
"Says who? Everyone knows that can't be done."
"Says House Urbigu," Ashen says, the flame on his silver sword rippling as he brings it forward to curl his other palm around the handle. "Bring him to me."
