Page 68 of Sinister Hearts
“It’s begun,” Ryker said, ascending from a dark corner. “The Seer has spoken—someone will die tonight. Death is knocking at someone’s door.”
Dark clouds rumbled and swarmed the desert sky. Even Mother Nature sensed something was brewing. Jax helped me up slowly, as my surroundings came back to me.
“What did you see?” he asked, and I tried to gather my thoughts.
The visions slashed my psyche briefly before me. As quick as they came, they left. The intrusion was too deep in my memory to forget.
“Fire, death, blood. I don’t know,” I cried out loud, trying to piece together the visions.
“The more visions she has, the more vivid and clear they will become,” Ryker read from the grimoire.
“Someone is going to die tonight.” I shook in Jax’s arms, wishing it was that simple to protect me from this curse that claimed me since birth.
I hadn’t had my mother’s herbal tea in days, and now I’m having visions again, even during the day. It hasn’t been this bad since I was a child. I needed my mother. My heart ached a pain I could never forget.
“Bringers of Death can’t die, you said, right?” I looked at Jax, terrified. I could not lose him, or anyone else for that matter.
“We can’t die, because we’re the Reapers of souls. We are Death. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be punished by the old gods and sent back to Valhalla, where we would live out our days serving Odin in his realm, as slaves.”
I was trying to make sense of what he was saying. “Punished for what, what do you mean?” I asked, standing up slowly, my body sore and achy.
“There are rules, Faye, that we must follow,” Jax said.
Everyone went silent.
“What fucking rules, tell me right now! Stop acting like I’m so fragile, I’m not. Stop protecting me, gods dammit!” I stood in protest, still in his grip.
“The tale is as old as time. All supernatural beings are to stick to their own realm, their own species. They aren’t to procreate, or be together. It can cause mass destruction to the realms. Things are different there, Faye,” he said, trying to explain carefully.
“There! But not here, right?” I prayed to the gods that he would give me an answer I could live with.
“Correct. Why do you think we are here? I guess you could say it’s in our blood to fall for women outside our realm.”
“Bjorn stayed here for Diana?” I asked, shocked. Jax nodded his head to me in confirmation. “Why? Why aren’t they allowed to be together? I need more answers, this isn’t enough. Help me understand, Jax.”
“Reapers and demons have been enemies since the dawn of time. And witches played their hand in neutrality, knowing they were the most powerful realm in Mortis. That left the spell binders to choose for their own—some witches decided to stay out of the war, and others chose their alliances. Like all things, the realms need balance. The Council of the realms consists of some of the most ancient magical beings from each realm. They cast out all Reapers, demons, and witches who were intertwined with one another to the human world, where we are forced to hide who we really are. The realm of Mortis is no place for hybrids or love outside of your realm.”
“Wow,” I huffed, sitting on a pile of hay.
“We’re safe here, as long as the realms don’t discover you three. It could be dangerous for not just us, but for the humans. The Council comes from different times, Faye. Ancient times, where humans were looked down upon, used as slaves and disposable. A time some demons want to go back to. Look, one battle at a time okay. We can worry about that battle later.” Jax held my hand and kissed it. “I love you, not even Hades himself could keep me from you. Plus, staying here with you isn’t thepunishment they think it is.” He winked at me. “You and Birdie, that is my future,” he reassured me, as we locked our foreheads together in unison. I hoped he was right. “Let’s go, you need rest,” he said gently.
“Iwant eyes on his habits, his schedule, and his hangout spots. I want to know when he eats, when he shits,everything, is that understood? If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this right. Vadon’s family has high security, and what we can assume are demons working for them, such as mimics, so be on the lookout for any simple changes you would miss in appearances.” Creed’s soured pain was written upon his face.
“In the meantime, I want Birdie looked after twenty-four seven. Do not let her out of your sight. She stays in the bunker below the wine cellar, on the farm. Their sacrifices can’t be made until a full moon, giving us two days to prepare. Skinwalkers are difficult to kill. They’re treacherous demons, spawning from the lowest pits of the underworld. I’ve killed a few in my day. They’re like roaches.” I picked up a dagger. “You’ll need Sally-Sue here to get the job done. This is a Nordic blade, blessed by Odin himself and gifted to me by our late grandfather. This dagger and its sorcery will puncture a skinwalker’s soul, ready for a Reaper’s taking.”
Creed grabbed the dagger from my hands. “Leave this to me, brother,” Creed affirmed. I nodded to him. We all knew there was no way of talking Creed out his own vengeance. Who was I to stop him? I had my own plan of vengeance lingering on my tongue, so close I could taste it.Vadon’s soul was mine.
Faye tried to purposely cut some of the tension in the air. “Can someone explain to me what exactly this huge book is, and why the hell there are catacombs under our homes, and why the grimoire was down there?”
Rocky sat down on a huge boulder, looking exhausted by Faye’s never ending questions. But I understood, it was a lot to take in, in such a short amount of time. While we grew up having awareness about these types of things, Faye was sheltered.
“Papi always told me the founding families made a pact to protect it. Gods forbid it gets in the wrong hands. It’s another reason why this land is so unique and magical,” Rocky interjected with her boots crossed.
“Your father would be correct. This land, like most, is Indigenous land. It is built on ancestral magic. Its desert caves are known to hide dangerous secrets—one of them being agemstone full of vigorous magic. Our ancestors agreed upon destroying it, but its power was indestructible, not of this world. So your ancestors, the Robles bloodline, worked on a spell to weave the stone into pieces. So that we may all share the burden of protecting it. Our ancestors took an initiative, Faye, to protect, not just this grimoire and the stone, but the land they both originated from.”
Pop turned to Raquel. “Your ancestor was a well-known shifter and shaman, someone of great wisdom, who documented the occult, going back past mortal lifetimes. His name was Animoa Ravenport. He studied creatures, monsters, and spell binding. He journaled everything as he learned the ways of medicine and the occult. Protection spells, banishing spells, creatures and their origins, as well as their destruction. It’s all in there. It must be protected at all costs. This grimoire and stone has been hunted for centuries by man and creature alike from all realms.” Pop peeped at the book like he was terrified by the sight of it.
“So what does the stone have to do with any of this?” Raquel said, side-eyeing the heavy book.
