Shadow Reaper (Shadowlands Series) Read online

  “Just give her some space today. Let her get her head around it.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “She’ll bounce back soon enough,” Blake said.

  Blake was right, Ash wasn’t one to stay down for too long. He’d meet up with her in the evening and they could chat about everything—the Reaper Programme shutting down, her feelings for Ryder, the lot. He’d make sure she didn’t bottle it up. She was hurting and no way was he going to allow her to suffer in silence.

  “It’ll be okay,” Clay said aloud.

  Blake stopped what he was doing and looked up.

  “You know, I’m kinda glad the programme shut down. I hated her going out,” Clay said as he rewired the monitor. “Scared the hell out of me. I’ve had dreams where she doesn’t come back, or just her head comes back.”

  “That’s messed up.”

  “I can’t help it. My mind always goes there when she’s on a run. She worries me to death.”

  “She’s tough.”

  “I know, tough and impulsive.”

  Blake was silent and Clay glanced over at him.

  Blake smiled and cast his eyes back on to the screens. “You look hassled.”

  “You’re the second person to say that.”

  “Oh? Well, must be true, then.” He flashed Clay a grin.

  With a few more adjustments, Clay had the screen back to normal. “There.”

  “You’re a genius, babe.”

  “Nah.”

  “Yep, you’re the best.”

  No matter how bright Blake smiled, there was still a troubled sheen over everything. He didn’t know what to do, how to dispel it. And could he anyway? Why was he trying to? Reality would always be there, waiting in the wings, ready to jump out and slap some faces. He couldn’t take away the pressures of reality.

  He wiped his hands on his trousers. “Come give me a kiss.”

  Blake turned to him, but instead of a soft kiss on the lips, all Clay got was a dry peck on the cheek. Clay blinked in surprise as Blake settled back at the monitors as if the kiss hadn’t even happened. He squashed the hurt. Of course it was wholly inappropriate asking for a kiss when Blake was clearly busy. He should know better.

  Clay gathered up his tools and took one last look at the monitor. A job well done, even if he said so himself.

  “Thanks, Clay.”

  “No problem.” He needed to go fix something. “See you tonight?”

  “Of course.”

  Blake returned to his work. Clay left as soon as his boyfriend’s back was to him.

  Blake was just busy that was all. And yet, he’d been busy before but never this dismissive. Clay shut down the negative thoughts. He had work to do and for that he needed a clear head.

  ***

  Where are you, Ash?

  She had to show her face soon.

  He was standing outside her room, having found it empty when he knocked. His brain was working overtime, worrying about where she was.

  She’s getting the space she needs.

  Truthfully, he was grasping at nothing. What he really needed to be doing was getting to work on his secret project. He had some free time. Getting the project up and running was crucial.

  Where are you, Ash?

  She was hurting and out there. Ash knew how to take care of herself, sure, but when a heart is broken it can push folks to do foolish things. He knew her like no other, but not even he could offer himself a drop of reassurance to say what she was capable of.

  He had to stop worrying.

  Damn Ryder! This was his bloody fault. Damn him and Nina!

  As if on cue, Ryder came walking toward him.

  He clenched his fists as a kernel of rage sat in his chest.

  “Hi, Clay,” Ryder said.

  “She’s not here.”

  “Oh.”

  Ryder popped his hands in his pockets. “You know where she might be?”

  “No, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

  Ryder’s eyes narrowed. “Is there a problem?”

  “You tell me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Clay shrugged and cursed himself at being completely unsubtle. He just wanted Ryder to piss off.

  Ryder sighed. “Me and Nina.”

  “Ash doesn’t want to see you.”

  “She’s not here anyway.”

  “So go.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her, Clay.”

  “But you did.”

  “I have to follow my heart,” Ryder said.

  “Seriously? Would have never expected to hear language like that come from your mouth.”

  “Look, it’s really none of your business anyway, and I’m not gonna stand here, justifying myself to you.”

  Clay felt the anger stir in his breast. He didn’t let it out very often. He was usually pretty well behaved, but Ryder was a threat to Ash’s equilibrium. He’d hurt the person most precious to Clay, and that was something that he couldn’t let slide. “You fuck with my sister’s heart, and you fuck with me, and trust me you do not want to fuck with me because I will break you.”

  Ryder’s expression went dark. “You threatening me?”

  “Clearly.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  Clay unfolded his arms as Ryder moved closer. He locked eyes with the man, almost a head taller than him. The rage writhed behind his eyeballs, making his head burn with the need to hit something. He clenched his fists, so ready to unleash it was almost painful to hold back.

  Ryder took a step back, his expression wary. “Prick.”

  The anger went from boil to simmer. “Just go, Ryder.”

  “Whatever.” Ryder skulked off.

  Clay exhaled, his body trembling with the after effects of the adrenaline. He’d almost lost it. Damn it, Ash! He needed her to come back so he could know that she would be okay. Of course none of this was really Ryder’s fault, Clay knew that deep down, but he needed someone to be pissed with and Ryder was the most appropriate candidate.

  He headed back to his workshop, vowing to come back later. Losing himself in work would do him good and soothe his mind.

  An hour later, his eyes were heavy, his head pounding from the close scrutiny of his project.

  He attempted to get up to try and shake it off. Having a walk would do him some good. However, the pain in his skull was just too much. He had to rest his eyes and his head, just for a bit. Ten minutes of resting his head on his desk wouldn’t hurt.

  He fell asleep within a minute.

  ASH

  Once Treagor was gone, Apocalypse returned to normal. The patrons went back to their conversations, their drinks, their meals, and Cal took me gently by the elbow and led me up the stairs. Up close, the white steps were smooth and swirling with iridescent patterns. I wanted to ask what they were made of, but pressed my lips together, sensing this wasn’t the time to be quizzing a stone man on the decor.

  We reached the top of the stairs and Cal released me. “Come.” He strode ahead, away from the white balcony rails and into the crimson-tinged shadows beyond. The floor under my feet was soft. I glanced down to see that it was carpeted in a red so dark it was almost black. The walls, too, were painted crimson. It was . . . disconcerting.

  I followed Cal down a corridor and into a small room that could barely take the two of us. I looked up at him with a frown, but he kept his eyes fixed on the doors as they slid closed. He reached for the wall, and I noticed the glowing buttons for the first time. They each had a strange symbol etched into them. Cal pressed one and my stomach lurched. I stumbled and Cal grabbed my arm to steady me. Were we moving? I shot him a confused look, and his dark eyes softened.

  “It’s a lift. Like stairs, it takes you from floor to floor,” he explained.

  A lift, of course. I’d seen them, but never a working one. Right now, we were headed up.

  The lift came to a smooth halt and Cal released my arm.

  “Come.”
/>
  I rolled my eyes. He didn’t have to keep telling me to come. It’s not like I had anywhere else to go—nowhere that was safe anyway.

  We emerged into another corridor. This one was all shades of green, brown, and yellow. It reminded me of the forest scenes from the books and magazines I’d scavenged over the years. The floor was dark, hard wood, and the air smelled fresh and earthy.

  Cal turned left at a junction and stopped outside a huge wooden door. The door handles were two massive knots of wood, polished to a shine.

  Cal lifted a fist and knocked.

  I didn’t hear any response, but he must have because he turned the handles, pushed open the door, and nudged me inside. I stepped into the room and blinked, holding up a hand to shield my eyes from the light. It was so bright. I heard the door close with a snick behind me.

  A few moments passed and my vision adjusted.

  “Come closer, human.”

  That voice again, the hot guy from the balcony. Avery.

  “Now.”

  What was it with Shadowlanders and barking orders? I bit back my annoyance. I needed them. I couldn’t afford to piss them off.

  “Come forward, please.”

  This time I did as he asked. The please he tagged on helped a little.

  As I moved closer, I got a good look at him. Taller than me by at least two feet, his shoulders were wide, his toned arms crossed over his broad chest. I glanced over his shoulders but couldn’t see his wings.

  “Where are your wings?” I asked.

  He stilled. “What did you say?”

  Shit, had I somehow inadvertently insulted him? “Um . . . I just wondered where your wings went. They’re lovely, by the way. Really . . . colourful.”

  He moved toward me so fast that I didn’t have time to flinch before he had me pinned to the door. His palms pressed to the wood on either side of my head. He had me caged. He locked eyes with me and stared long enough to make me feel more than a little uncomfortable.

  He released me a second later and stepped back, head cocked slightly to the side, lips pursed and brow furrowed. “You’re human.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “Yes, last I checked.” I chuckled dryly, hoping to diffuse the tension that was thrumming between us.

  “I can’t read you,” he muttered then turned away. He moved into the light, which had diffused a little, enough for me to make out a huge desk, also made of some kind of wood. He picked up a stone and held it to his lips.

  “Jiva, can you come to my office please.”

  He placed the stone back on the desk and approached me, slowly this time. His golden hair had come untucked from behind his ears and caressed the sides of his chiselled face.

  “What’s your name, human?”

  “Ash, I mean Ashling, but my friends call me Ash.”

  “Ashling.”

  Okay, so not friends yet, that was cool.

  “Why are you here, Ashling?”

  “I got chased by the Trader’s . . . hound thingies and found this place. Freya, the woman on the door, brought me in. Listen, the Traders have my friend, Bernadette. They’re going to sell her. I need to get her back. I need to get to um . . .” What had Treagor called the place? “Inferna.”

  Avery’s expression shuttered. “That, Ashling, is not my problem.”

  The door behind me opened, and I stepped away from it, turning to see who had just entered.

  The man that walked in was even taller than Avery. His hair was shockingly white, his skin was almost as pale, and white lashes fringed pale blue eyes. Where Avery was pretty buff, this new bloke was slender and wiry. His hair was cropped short, almost to the scalp, and he looked at me as if he were examining an interesting specimen under a microscope.

  My skin itched under his scrutiny, and I rubbed my arms to dispel the goose bumps that popped up.

  “So?” Avery said.

  I turned to him, thinking he was talking to me, but his attention was on the pale guy.

  “Jiva? Do you sense anything?”

  Jiva’s pale eyes narrowed a fraction, and then he blinked, releasing me from his gaze. I dropped my eyes to the floor and swallowed, suddenly feeling light headed.

  “Maybe a touch.” He moved closer and lifted his hand. “Do not move, human,” he said. I didn’t think I could, even if I wanted to. His proximity was playing havoc with my senses, sending strange tingles up and down my spine. What the hell was he? He laid an icy hand on my cheek and I flinched.

  “Please. Remain still. This will take but a moment. I mean you no harm.”

  Avery snorted indelicately.

  I stood as still as possible while Jiva branded me with his icy palm, and then, just like that, it was over.

  I raised my lashes to look up at him. Had I passed his little test? Because that’s what this was, some kind of messed up test. I just wished I knew what they were testing me for.

  The pale guy, Jiva, dismissed me and turned to Avery. “I can’t get a read. I can’t get a sip. I sense it there. It’s definitely there, but buried, deep, so deep that I am unable to access it.”

  “It’s the same for me. I couldn’t read her. No idea what she’s feeling.”

  “This is interesting.”

  “New.”

  “Do you think?”

  “Hey!” I said.

  They stopped talking and looked at me. I licked my lips. “What can’t you sense?” I addressed Jiva. “And what can’t you read?” I asked Avery.

  Avery smiled, slow and calculating like he had on the balcony earlier. He began to circle me.

  “You tell us, human. What is it you’re hiding? Why did you come to the Shadowlands? What is it you’re looking for?” He stopped in front of me, towering over me, trying to intimidate. I’d had enough. I was tired and hungry and sad, really fucking sad about Bernie. I didn’t need this shit.

  I met his gaze and lifted my chin. “I came looking for food.”

  He blinked, looking surprised.

  “Yeah, that’s right. Food, something we don’t have much of over the Horizon, something you seem to have more than enough of in your museum.” The surprise was still there, etched on his beautiful face as if the thought of searching for food was something shocking and strange. It made my chest burn with anger and loosened my tongue. “You know what? You make me fucking sick. Why? Why would you do this to us? What did we ever do to you? You took our home, you took our sun and moon, and you left us trapped on a dying island with no hope.” I took a breath, chest rising and falling with emotion. “I came looking for food. I came looking for hope! You tied us into a treaty to stop us coming here, to stop us finding out the truth that there’s still life, there’s still a moon, but you know what? I don’t care anymore, we’re dying anyway so it doesn’t matter. Your treaty doesn’t matter.”

  Avery blinked down at me, and I saw his eyes cloud with what I could only describe as confusion. He glanced over his shoulder. “Do you know what the human is talking about, Jiva?”

  “I have no idea,” Jiva said.

  I looked from one to the other. “The treaty . . . the one that says we can’t come into the Beyond.”

  Avery shrugged.

  “The one that says you’ll attack and annihilate us all if we venture forth?”

  Avery snorted again. “There is no treaty, human. Why would the vulture make a treaty with a corpse? You have nothing to offer us. Besides, if such a treaty did exist, we would have attacked a long time ago. You’ve seen the human staff walking the floors of our establishment, I assume.”

  I didn’t know what to say. No treaty? What the hell was going on?

  “Humans are not that interesting. Aside from labour, food, or sex, they have little function in our world.”

  “Is that why you have a museum?” I asked. “Because you don’t value anything human?”

  Avery turned away, shaking his head.

  It was Jiva who spoke next. “The museum is mine, human.” Something flashed in tho
se pale eyes, more than clinical assessment, more than curiosity, but I couldn’t quite define it. I didn’t know him well enough to read him.

  There was a soft knock at the door.

  “Enter, Freya,” Jiva said.

  The door opened and Freya popped her head in. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she scanned the room.

  “Sir, you summoned me?” she said.

  Jiva’s lips twitched in what I thought was a smile. “Yes, Freya. Please take this human to the living quarters and have her settled. She works for Apocalypse now.”

  “What? No!” I stared at him in panic. “I can’t stay here. I need to find Bernadette then get back to my people.”

  Avery, who’d had his back to us all this time, turned to face us. “You will stay here and you will do as you are bid, human.” His tone was soft, but brooked no argument. Only problem was, I had a penchant arguments.

  “You can’t force me to stay here!”

  His eyes lit up with anger, and I exhaled, reigning it in, reminding myself where the hell I was and that if it wasn’t for these people, I’d probably be off to be sold.

  “Look, I’m sorry I got pissed, but I need to find my friend. I have to save her. Can you understand that?”

  “If she wants to leave, Avery—”

  “Look at her shoulder.” Avery said, cutting Jiva off.

  Jiva didn’t question, he simply moved toward me and reached for my shirt collar. He paused. “May I?”

  Man, these creatures were confusing—overbearing and bossy one moment, all chivalrous and polite the next.

  I nodded.

  He careful pulled back my collar to peer at my shoulder. He inhaled sharply, released my shirt, and stepped back.

  “Take her to quarters, Freya, and put her on watch. She can work the bar with Henry.”

  What had happened to “She can leave if she wants to?”

  “Seriously? You’re gonna keep me prisoner?”

  “Come on,” Freya hissed. “That’s enough.” She tugged me out of the room but not before I caught the words.

  “Believe me, it’s for your own good.”

  ***

  “Are you nuts?” Freya asked as we rode the lift back down.