Page 94 of Hell Raising and Other Pastimes (Grave Concerns 2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

My knees hit the ground hard, the sharp rocks and sand digging in. Yet, oddly, Ilikedthat, embraced the spark of pain. It reminded me that I was still alive, that I was there, that I was me again.

When I’d been in that other form, I hadn’t been able to touch the real world—I hadn’t been a part of it.

Sure, I didn’t love the pain in my knees or the way my cut hand got dirt in the wound, but at least it was something.

I lifted my head and peered past the men—I didn’t really want to see how they looked at me anymore—to find Lucifer leaning forward, for the first time fully invested in what had happened.

And the way he smiled said he’d gottenexactlywhat he wanted.

He rose and walked to the edge of the barrier, then raised his voice as though addressing the crowd despite his gaze not leaving me.

“We have a winner. In a rather surprising turning of events, the winner of our competition and the recipient of any favor I am capable of giving is Ava Harlin, our not-so-mortal guest of honor.”

Murmurs from behind him started up—then again, a mortal had just won their precious competition—but a lifted hand by Lucifer silenced them.

“You planned this,” I accused.

Lucifer nodded at the barrier, and it fell. He stepped over the line of rocks, then reached out his hand.

I took it, ignoring that I probably got blood and dirt on him. He pulled me to my feet, staring down at me with far more interest than made me comfortable.

“So I’m going to guess you got what you wanted?” I asked.

“I did, Ms. Harlin.”

“And why did you want it? What did you get out of all of this?”

He released my hand, his lips curling into a cruel and calculated smile. “We will see.”

And that did not make me feel any better.

* * * *

My hand ached, and, for the first time, I wished I’d had a chance to see Kase. Nothing like a little vampire blood to chase away the injury.

Funny, since it wasn’t all that long ago that I had recoiled at the thought of him healing me. It seemed I’d realized there were a lot worse things in the world than a few drops of blood, especially if they managed to do away with the wound.

I wasn’t sure if that was a positive change or not.

I hadn’t looked at or spoken to any of the men. Lucifer had sent me off with a guard right after he’d declared me the winner, and I’d gone without lifting my gaze.

Fear gripped me. I recalled how I’d looked in the mirror Grant had created, how my reflection had shown nothing of who I had always seen.

How could anyone accept that? I couldn’t, and for that reason, I’d not met the gazes of any of the men.

The idea of them seeing me differently created this pit in my stomach, a fear that something I’d found might be gone.

What would I do if I found disgust in Troy’s eyes when he looked at me? If Grant watched me with suspicion, or Hunter flinched from me?

Even Kase, who didn’t seem startled by anything, might not touch me with the same gentle stroke of his fingers after seeing that. I’d risked everything for them, and they might have decided I wasn’t worth it anymore.

Reapers weren’t immortals. They weren’t likeanythingelse. It would have been easier to accept I was some sort of freaky hybrid of an immortal, but areaper?

The things Gran had said before came back to me, when she’d said I was more than I realized, that I wasn’t supposed to be. She’d been right.

Too bad I hadn’t listened.

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