My Reaper's Daughter (13 page)

childbearing age. Four infants yet to be baptized. One of each for the Lords you called forth and

then a final one for Me.”

Dirk swallowed hard. “What sacrifice do You ask for Yourself, my Master?”

From out of the swirling mist overhead, the Great Storm God Raphian, the

Destroyer of Men’s Souls, thrust Its long, leathery neck forward. Scales the color of a

dead man’s flesh covered a triangular head that resembled that of a pit viper. Row after

row of needle-sharp teeth lined the giant maw of a mouth that had stretched into a

knowing leer. The elongated pupils of the demon’s red eyes glowed brightly, promising

horrendous death and eternal damnation. When It spoke, a forked tongue shot out and

a thin drool of noxious phosphorescent green fluid dripped onto the ground, hissing as

it struck, bubbling and boiling.

“
Only a minor thing, human
,” Raphian hissed.

The tall man felt his bowels loosen and a thin trickle of urine slither down his leg.

“N-Name it, Oh Holy One.”

Raphian thrust Its hideous visage closer to the magician and the stench of It was

suffocating in its intensity.

“I want a Reaper to destroy,”
the demon whispered.

* * * * *

Phelan Kiel felt the Rift in the Veil and stopped as he was about to enter his home.

He looked up into the blackness of the night heavens but not even a single star twinkled

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there. The sky was devoid of all light for dark, boiling clouds swirled to hide the moon

and planets and stars.

“Mo Regina?”
he questioned, made uneasy by the sensations that were crawling like

fire ants down his spine.

“I am busy, my Reaper,”
She answered.

“What’s happening?” he asked. “What was that I felt?”

But the Triune Goddess did not reply. Though he tried twice more to contact Her,

She ignored him and that—in itself—made the Reaper very nervous. Something was

happening or about to happen that made his flesh crawl and he had a feeling whatever

it was, it didn’t bode well for Terra.

* * * * *

Far to the north in the bastion of protection known as the Citadel, Shadowlord

Kheelan Ben-Alkazar sat up with a gasp, his heart pounding in his chest. Pain

undulated through his entire body and he flung the bedcovers aside, swinging his bare

legs to the floor. Hand shaking, he thrust it through his dark curls and sat waiting for

his head to stop spinning.

“Mo Regina?”
he too questioned, but the goddess did not answer.

Every inch of his flesh tingled as though it were being visited by a million insects

and he shook himself like a wet terrier, feeling cold sweat running down his chest and

sides.

“Naois? Dunham
?”

“I felt it too,”
Lord Naois Belvoir sent back.

“Aye,”
Lord Dunham Tarnes agreed.

“Did something go through the Net?”
the High Lord questioned his fellow

Shadowlords.

“Aye, and it wasn’t the goddess,”
Lord Dunham stated.

“Get dressed and meet me in the Council room!”
Lord Kheelan ordered.

* * * * *

Glyn Kullen had just gotten to bed when the heavy pounding came at his door. He

shot out of the bed and grabbed his gun a second before the thick oak portal swung

open.

“They want you in the Council room on the double, Kullen!” the woman standing

framed in the doorway declared.

Being rousted in the middle of the night by a warrioress six inches taller than

himself carrying a Dóigra clutched in her hand did not set well with the Reaper. He

cursed as he snatched his uniform pants from a chair and thrust his long legs into them.

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“What the fuck’s wrong?” he demanded.

Captain Penthesilea Aracnea’s fingers flexed around the handle of her long

mahogany spear with its glass-tipped star-shaped laser bulb that she carried. “We don’t

have time for me to brief you. Get a move on, Reaper!”

Glyn had every Reaper’s intense mistrust and dislike of the Amazeen who was

chief of security at the Citadel. He’d had rare occasion to interact with her and he

preferred it that way. It didn’t help his peace of mind to remember the woman was also

a Blackwind, the sworn vengeance of her people, and that she had come to Terra to

capture Bevyn Coure and bring him back to justice.

“You’re beginning to run to flab, Kullen. I’ll let the trainer know you’ll be coming to

see him,” Penthe told him.

The Reaper paused in drawing on his black silk shirt. “What?” he asked, staring in

the Amazeen’s dark green eyes. “What the hell are you talking about, wench? I’m in top

shape.”

Drawing herself up to her full seven-foot, two-inch height, the warrioress, who

could dematerialize into vapor should she need to, gave Kullen a brutal look. “Call me

wench again and I’ll pound your scrawny ass into the carpet and be done with it!”

Glyn ignored the threat and sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots.

He swept a nasty look over the Amazeen from short brown hair to polished brown

boots, leaving no doubt in the woman’s mind that he didn’t consider her a challenge

worthy of comment. Standing, he snagged his leather tie from the footboard of the bed

and marched past her, looping the tie over his neck as he walked.

“I wasn’t joking, Kullen,” she told him as she fell into step behind him. “I want you

in the gymnasium and—”

“You can take that Dóigra and shove it up that wide, tight ass of yours, Blackwind,”

he snarled at her. “I don’t take orders from you.”

That had not been the wisest thing Glyn Kullen had ever said for he found himself

flattened against the far wall outside his room door. The deadly spear handle was

jammed across his throat and pressing painfully into his Adam’s apple. A wickedly

hard knee was rammed between his legs and pressed even more painfully against his

balls.

“Fuck you, Kullen,” Penthe said. She lifted her knee higher and smiled savagely

when the Reaper grunted with the agony burning between his legs.

“In. Your. Dreams,” he managed to hiss from between tightly clenched teeth.

Penthe leaned in close—her nose almost touching his. “You’d better hope I never

have reason to discipline you, Kullen, because I sure as hell will enjoy watching you

break rocks in the hot sun for weeks on end!”

“Get the fuck off me!” Glyn growled, his amber eyes narrowing dangerously.

Just as quickly as she’d subdued him, she released him, stepping adroitly back but

pointing the Dóigra menacingly toward him, daring him to come at her.

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“This isn’t over,” he snapped as he pushed away from the wall, striving not to

wince at the pain throbbing at the juncture of his thighs.

The Amazeen snarled then motioned with her weapon that he was to precede her.

“Run along, fat boy.”

All the way down the corridor and the stairs leading to the main concourse, Glyn

was seething, his fists clenched, and so angry he had forgotten to knot the tie hanging

from his neck. He barely acknowledged the three beautiful women who were sitting at

their posts outside the Council room, so annoyed that he’d been bested by the Amazeen

he didn’t even question the women being there at that ungodly time of night.

“Please go on in. They are awaiting you, Lord Kullen,” Argent, the silver-haired

Primary Gatekeeper told him.

The Amazeen followed the Reaper into the Council room but stopped at the door,

shutting it behind her then taking up a defensive posture before it, Dóigra held at an

angle over her body.

“We’ve trouble, Lord Kullen,” Lord Kheelan said as he motioned Glyn forward,

pointing to one of five chairs before the High Council dais.

There were four Reapers already in attendance. Lord Kasid Jaborn, who had been

assigned the Citadel and its surrounding area as his protectorate and three of the four

female Reapers who were mated to Glyn’s teammates—Lady Aingeal Cree, Lady

Danielle Gehdrin, and the newest of the quartet, Lady Lea Walsh. The only other female

Reaper not in attendance was Lady Rachel Tohre whose twins were due soon.

Glyn exchanged a look with Kasid but the Akhkharulian-born Reaper only

shrugged, obviously as in the dark about what was going on as was Kullen.

“We have had an occurrence this evening that has distressed us,” Lord Kheelan, the

High Lord of the Shadowlords, began. “Lords Naois and Dunham and I felt a Rift in the

Veil and we have all three tried to contact the goddess but She is not responding. We

fear something very malevolent has happened somewhere in the Vircars Territory.”

“We have likewise been unable to reach Lord Phelan. Something is blocking our

contacting him,” Lord Dunham spoke up, “so you can imagine we are quite

concerned.”

“What kind of occurrence?” Aingeal inquired.

Lord Kheelan switched his attention to her. “Something went through the Net then

came back again about ten minutes later,” he explained, referring to the planet-wide

security grid that was an invisible, laser beam protection to keep invaders from entering

Terra. Anything that hit the grid would disintegrate upon contact.

“Morrigunia can go and come as She pleases,” Aingeal reminded them. “Perhaps it

was Her.”

“It wasn’t,” Lord Dunham said. “Since the last time She was here, the grid has been

programmed to recognize Her heat signature in both humanoid and dragon form. It

wasn’t Her.”

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“Which means someone—or something else—knows how to penetrate the security

barrier and return unscathed,” Lord Naois stated.

“How do you know whatever or whoever it was made it back without being

vaporized?” Kasid inquired.

“The Net would have noted the dispersement of energy particles, the collapse of life

within the particles,” Lord Dunham replied. “Whatever came back through it—and we

have to pray it was the same entity as the one that went out—was not harmed in any

significant way by the laser pulses.”

“I’m not liking the sound of this,” Danielle declared.

“Lord Glyn, we want you and Lord Kasid to get down to Vircars as fast as you

can,” Lord Kheelan said. “Find out why Phelan isn’t answering our summons and

assess the situation. I wish we could send our Prime Reaper and Lords Bevyn, Iden and

Cynyr with you but they are still tied up with that problem in Oklaks.”

“We could go with them,” Danielle said, and when Lord Kheelan shot her an

annoyed look, she shrugged. “Merely as backup.”

“We do not send our women to war,” Lord Naois told her.

“And you think that is what this is?” Aingeal asked.

“It could be,” Lord Kheelan said.

“What about the warrioress?” Lea asked quietly. “Why not send her with them?”

The eyes of Reapers and Shadowlords alike shot to the Amazeen.

Penthe arched a brow at Lord Kheelan.

“She is not allowed outside the sanction of the Citadel,” the High Lord stated.

“As much as you’d like to see me gone and as far from your man as I can get,”

Penthe said sweetly, her words directed at Lea.

“I’m not worried about you being near my man, you ugly bean stalk,” Lea

mumbled under her breath.

Aingeal and Danielle heard her and grinned.

“What about Owen?” Glyn asked.

Lord Kheelan’s dark eyes bore into the Reaper. “What about him?”

“You could release him a few weeks early from his sentence and allow him to go

with us,” Glyn replied.

“That isn’t going to happen and even if we were to set aside the remainder of his

punishment, he would not be in any condition to accompany you on a mission. He has

reverted,” Lord Kheelan said. “It will take him awhile after his release to return to

normal human condition.”

Glyn shuddered at that pronouncement and looked down at the floor.

“We’ve already informed the stable master to have your mounts saddled and sent

down to the train station. As soon as you left your rooms, a helper was sent to pack

your saddlebags and get your gear together. Your tenerse has been restocked and new

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vac-syringes packed. Everything will be ready for you by the time you get to the

carriage,” Lord Dunham put in.

“The line only goes as far as Charlotte. From there on, the tracks have yet to be

replaced,” Lord Kheelan reminded them.

“The huge crater that took out half the seaboard has proved to be a major obstacle

to reconnecting the lines,” Lord Dunham stated.

“But at least by taking the train to Charlotte it will save you some time,” Lord Naois

said. “And we believe time is of the essence, gentlemen.”

Lord Kheelan nodded, indicating the Reapers were to stand. “Lord Glyn, you are

primary on this.”

Glyn nodded and stood. “Then we’ll be on our way.”

“
Go raibh an choir Ghaoithe I gcónai leat,”
Lord Kheelan said, dismissing them.

Glyn and Kasid saluted the Shadowlords then turned to go.

“The Wind be always at your back, Glynnie,” Aingeal repeated the High Lord’s

blessing in her own native tongue and reached for him, hugging him.

Both Danni and Lea followed suit.

“Be safe,” Lea whispered.