Reap & Reveal (The Reaper Series Book 3) (31 page)

Suck it up, buttercup.

Sometimes being supernatural sucked.

She had drained much of her Reiki light in her efforts to keep herself warm, and she needed a boost.

“Put me down, please.” Carl lowered her feet to the ground. “Thank you. Carl, you’re going to have to follow the road into the town and find someone to come out and get me. I can’t go inside by myself.”

“Why not? You don’t need to be staying out here. You don’t even got shoes on.”

“I know. You won’t be gone long. It may take some convincing for them to lower the barrier so I can come inside, but you have to try. We’ll be safe inside. When you get inside, ask for the Blackburns. Tell them…tell them Nate’s sister is outside.”

“I don’t like it. It feels evil out here.” Carl cast an anxious look toward the woods on either side of the gravel road leading into the coven.

“It’s not evil. It’s magic. It’s a spell to make you turn away, to try to keep you out, but it won’t hurt you. I promise.”

“I’m scared.”

Ruth took hold of his pylon-sized bicep. “You’re brave. And strong. Look how far you carried me. Look how you saved me. Please, Carl. You need to hurry.”

“Okay. What’s the name again?”

“Blackburn. Nate Blackburn. I’m his sister.”

***

Ruth held her breath as Carl gathered his courage and turned toward the town. Taking one hesitant step after another, he disappeared out of sight, leaving her alone with the wind and quickly accumulating snow. She shivered and prayed he would indeed hurry. She’d stripped the shirt Camael’s lackey had given in half while in the crypt, wrapping her feet as best she could, but her feet were soaked through all the same and beginning to freeze.

Her best hope was that the coven would stir into action on her behalf when they heard that she was Nate’s sister. It was the only card she had to play. If not for Carl, she would have perished out here already. He was a blessing.

Ruth blew lukewarm air into her cupped hands and tried to keep her toes and feet moving to circulate her cooling blood. She was cold to the core and feeling lightheaded. The last thing she wanted to do was sit on the even colder ground. If the rest of her clothes got wet, she was a goner. The snow, which was coming down so thick and fast she couldn’t even see the road, had soaked her hair. The wind picked up and howled through the trees, bursting straight through her thin clothes. A chill ran down her spine, but she realized she’d stopped shivering again.

Hurry, Carl!

Hunkering down, she tried to balance on the balls of her feet, but her dizzy head and the driving wind were having none of it. She tumbled onto her side, but when she struggled to right herself, her eyes lost focus and her eyelids slammed shut. No amount of fear or self-preservation could hold them open any longer. She couldn’t help but succumb. She’d lost too much energy trying to keep warm.

Camael was the least of her worries as she slid into darkness.

***

Camael flashed into Bolton Cemetery. First he’d gather the sacrifice, and then he’d head to the coven. With Ruth in hand, he could kill two birds with one stone. Not only would he be able to use her to hold the portal open, but she would be the bait that would lure the reaper/witch and Maeve to the coven.

He didn’t know how or why Maeve had been successfully reinsouled, but he was confident he could force them to do the same for Elaina so long as he had the right leverage.

But when he reached the crypt, the lock was broken. Ruth was gone.

Well, of course she was.

Only the human minions had known where she was. One of them must have doubled back for her and set his sacrificial lamb free. Without her, not only would he fail to keep the portal open, but he had no leverage with the reaper/witch.

Filled with righteous rage, he flashed to the coven.

Taking care not to be spotted, he stayed just inside the wooded edge. No need to play his hand until he had to. After his last visit, he doubted the witches would send a welcoming committee to greet him if he walked up to knock on the metaphysical door. A lynch mob was more likely. He needed to be subtle. A near impossibility considering his history and current frame of mind, but he couldn’t take a chance of losing Elaina’s soul in any kind of struggle.

The package under his arm gave him some comfort. He liked having her near, but the thought that she could be easily compromised filled him with dread. He couldn’t stand to lose her all over again.

Before he opened the portal, unleashing Hell on Earth, he would make one last attempt to save her. If it worked…well, then he could decide what to do next.

He wove his way toward the witch compound through the driving wind, and just before he reached the edge of the circle of protection, his foot kicked into a brushy stump in the snow. Raising his foot to climb over it, he heard a soft moan beneath him. When the pile shifted ever so slightly, he lasered his attention in on the quickly developing shape beneath the dusting of snow.

Camael squatted beside the pile and brushed away the snow.

He was unable to believe his great luck.

Ruth.

He looked around the clearing, but couldn’t see more than a few feet ahead of him in the blowing storm. What were the chances? Briefly he worried it might be a trap of some sort, but when she didn’t respond to his prodding, he knew she was alone. Someone had released her from the crypt. She hadn’t escaped alone. So where was her rescuer now?

Refusing to examine his good fortune any further, he knelt beside her and brushed the remaining snow from her body. Placing his case over her stomach, he scooped them both up into his arms and carried her right up to the front gate.

Screw subtlety. He had collateral.

Chapter Forty

“The coven’s in trouble, Deacon. I need your help.” Nate reached out his hand and helped Maeve to her feet as Deacon and Samkiel paced the room.

Come to think of it, if not for the ball of dread eating its way through his own stomach, he had to admit he felt pretty good. Rashnu’s shot of angel mojo was a supersized dose of Reiki light, and while he was mostly the conduit for Maeve, its effects on him were lasting. Physically, Maeve didn’t look any different, but Rashnu was certain her transformation to valkyrie had been a success. Nate was just happy that she was alive and awake.

The home sigil across his shoulder blade blazed along his skin. The coven was still in serious trouble. And Ruth? At this point there were so many fires to put out he didn’t know which one to aim at first. The remaining members of the Authority were shoulder-deep in the chaos that was downtown. The daylight had not deterred the demons from their mission. If anything, they seemed emboldened.

It was Christmas Eve and Nate had no doubt that Camael intended to open the portal before midnight. He didn’t know how Ruth played into his plan, but he was certain it wouldn’t end well. Camael would likely have put their family history together by now, as well. What that meant for him and Ruth, he wasn’t sure. He just knew that he wasn’t looking forward to the family reunion.

“Before you go, Nate, we have another piece of business to address. Maeve isn’t the only one who has experienced a transformation,” Rashnu said, reaching behind the bar.

Nate gave Deacon a questioning look, not sure what was coming next. “What now?”

Rashnu brought forth a soft leather scabbard in his hands and presented it to Nate. “You have proven yourself a reaper, Nate. While you are indeed nephilim, your heritage has allowed you to evolve into a reaper capable of very special talents. Beyond nature, yes, but you are still a child of God. The power of reinsoulment is a near God-like ability and one you must guard judiciously. With the acceptance of this scythe, you officially join the Authority as a reaper with full recognition and benefits. You’ve already proven your allegiance to protecting the ones you love. Now, go forth and protect the realms, as well.”

Nate reached forward for the weapon and took it from Rashnu’s hands. He pulled the blade from the sheath and turned it in the light, examining its sleek design, the handle beginning to glow under his touch. Nate looked on in awe as the steel became imbued with the same sigils that marked his own body.

“It is your weapon alone, Nate. No other can empower its magic. You are a breed apart. Use your power wisely,” Rashnu said.

Samkiel stepped up beside him to examine the weapon and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Nice blade.”

Nate removed his short sword and slid the new scabbard into the straps. He pushed his arms through the loops and tightened the weapon across his back. Reaper.

It was a title he’d never expected to own.

“We’re going to have to split up. I have to find Ruth and you need to get to your coven. We’re running out of time,” Deacon said. “Samkiel, go with them. I’ll call Kylen once I’m topside and ask him to check our compound. I’ll go to the cemetery. If Ruth is there, I’ll get her to safety. Nate, keep your phone on. I’ll track you to the coven and be there as soon as I can. This ends tonight.”

Maeve reached for Nate’s hand.

“I think we can do this the easy way.” Rashnu spread his wings and the room filled with light until they each began to dissipate through the consecrated subway to their destinations.

***

They landed just outside the perimeter of the coven to the most unlikely welcoming committee Nate could have imagined. On one side of the boundary, Garrett, Rosemary, the coven board and a man Nate didn’t recognize stood in a line, on the other stood Camael, who held Ruth clutched in his arms.

Nate blinked hard, trying to make the image register. Maeve was in motion before he could stop her and yelling rose up all around him as the members of the coven crossed out of the circle of protection, magic blazing.

“Do not come any closer. I’ll flash her from here, and we all know how much danger your dear Ruth will be in if I do that.” Camael turned to face Maeve, whose scythe was drawn.

“Let Ruth go, Camael. She needs our help or she’s going to die,” Nate said, inching forward.

Samkiel edged to their right, ready to act when needed.

“Not just yet.” Camael surveyed Maeve. “You are alive and reinsouled. How is this possible?”

“Ruth needs help now. We don’t have time for this nonsense,” Nate insisted. “Rashnu, do something.”

Rashnu walked around Nate and came into the full view of Camael. “Tell him what he wants to know, Nate.”

“You call that help?” Maeve growled.

“What’s in the case, Camael?” Rashnu asked.

“Nothing of your concern,” Camael snarled.

“I think it concerns all of us. Is it Ruth you want most…or is it whatever is in that case? Tell Nate what you hold and then let him decide if he will help you.”

Camael’s expression faltered and Nate suddenly knew what was in the case.

“Nate, tell him how you reinsouled Maeve,” Rashnu pushed.

“I don’t know how I reinsouled her. I just did it.”

“And she has not been impaired by the experience?” Camael shifted Ruth in his arms and she moaned softly. “Could you do it again?”

“I don’t know.”

“Would you…try?” Camael locked eyes with Nate and dared him to answer.

“What are you asking? Why the hell would I do anything at your request? Ever? You are insane beyond comprehension.”

“Tell him what’s in the case, Camael. I can feel it from here,” Rashnu said.

“A soul,” Camael offered softly.

“Whose?” Nate asked, pressure building inside his head as his heart pounded in his ears.

“Elaina’s.”

In the ensuing silence, Deacon and Kylen suddenly appeared in the clearing behind the group. Deacon froze, his eyes glued on Ruth. “Holy hell,” he said, shifting his gaze to Rashnu. “What the fuck is going on here?”

Nate looked at Rosemary, who began to cry gently, all of the fight drained out of her. He was standing in the middle of a meadow, surrounded by witches, angels and reapers, and his mortal enemy wanted his help. The only thing that could make this all any weirder was…yeah, nothing. He couldn’t even make this shit up.

“Camael has our mother’s soul,” Nate said.

Silence filled the meadow and the world stood still for a few long moments as Nate decided how to proceed. They couldn’t trust Camael, but right now they wanted the same thing—to save Elaina or set her free. At this point, the latter seemed more probable. And Ruth? God only knew what Camael had planned for Ruth. The only way to help ensure her safety was to cooperate.

“I’ll do it.”

“Very well,” Camael said.

“I have conditions,” Nate said.

“Of course.”

Chapter Forty-One