My Reaper's Daughter (18 page)

What do you say?”

Mystery smiled at the middle-aged woman. “That would be nice.”

“So how are you faring now that you’re home?” Miss Laverne asked. “I know it

must be hard once you’ve been out on your own and all.”

“My brothers and their wives have been wonderful to me,” Mystery said, “but they

treat me like I’m still a child.”

“And always will, dear,” Miss Laverne said with a laugh as she put the kettle on.

“That’s the nature of having older siblings.” She sat down with Mystery at the little

table reserved for the teachers.

“I suppose so,” Mystery said with a sigh.

“What about the Shoad girl?” the older woman inquired. “Have you run into her

yet?”

“Up at Sagewood,” Mystery answered. “She gave me the evil-eye and—”

“Watch yourself around that one, Mystery,” Miss Laverne interrupted. “She’s not

altogether playing with a full deck of cards—if you get my meaning.”

“We’ve never been on friendly terms so I doubt I’ll be coming into contact with her

that often,” Mystery said. “Leastways, I hope not. I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me

for marrying Odell.”

Miss Laverne frowned sharply. “You be careful with any new beau in whom you

might show interest, Mystery. That little viper might get it in her mind to do you or him

harm.”

The teapot began to whistle and Mystery got up to fix the tea for them, dropping

bags into the cups then bringing sugar and cream to the table. “She isn’t still playing

around with that black magic stuff her mama used to practice, is she?”

“She is and from what some of the other girls tell me, more than a few go to her for

charms and spells and the like.” Miss Laverne pursed her wrinkled lips. “Of course it’s

all a bunch of hooey but there are those who believe in that drivel.”

“Well, I don’t,” Mystery stated as she turned back to get the steaming-hot cups.

“Is there a young man looming on your horizon?” Miss Laverne inquired.

Mystery sat down, her eyes going dreamy as the image of Glyn Kullen drifted

across her mind’s eye. “No one interested in a woman with a young child to care for,”

she replied.

“But one whose boots you wouldn’t mind finding under your bed come one fine

morning?” the older woman teased.

Blushing, Mystery ducked her head. She stared into her cup. “No, ma’am, I

certainly wouldn’t mind, but like I said, he’s not interested in someone like me.”

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Lightning forked across the sky and the little boy in the schoolroom cried out. Both

women got to their feet and hurried to him, finding the small child locked in Valda’s

arms.

“He don’t like bad weather, Mama,” Valda said as she hugged the tearful six-yearold boy.

“He doesn’t like bad weather,” Miss Laverne corrected. She squatted down and put

a soothing hand on little Philippe’s head. “Why don’t all four of us go in the kitchen? I

do believe there might be some apple juice in the icebox.”

Phillip scrambled out of Valda’s arms and into Miss Laverne’s, pressing his dark

face against the bodice of her starched white blouse. She grunted as she got to her feet

with the little boy’s legs wrapped around her waist and his arms tight around her neck.

“Let’s go see about that apple juice, shall we?” she said.

Valda got to her feet and looked up at her mother. “Philippe is ’fraid like Glynnie,

huh, Mama?” She took her mother’s hand. “If Glynnie was here, Philippe wouldn’t feel

so bad ’bout being ’fraid. I told him even Reapers get scared sometimes but he didn’t

believe me.”

Mystery smiled at her daughter, laughing as Valda began swinging their clasped

hands as they walked toward the kitchen.

* * * * *

Miserable, wet beneath his slicker and hating the lightning zapping around them,

Glyn watched the rainwater pouring off the brim of his hat. Kasid rode only a horselength ahead of him as they crossed the swollen creek near Chesterville but he could

barely make out his teammate in the heavy rain. It would take them over a week to

reach Charlestown and he hoped the rain would end long before that. Although from

what Lord Kheelan had told them when they’d set out at the crack of dawn this

morning, the storm was at that time slamming into the Citadel and was expected to

travel southward along the coast, dumping inordinate amounts of rain on the already

saturated land.

“We need to take shelter, Glyn!”
Kasid sent to him.

Glyn looked up and could just see Kasid twisted around in the saddle, motioning

toward a ramshackle building off to their left.

“Fine by me,”
he returned.

The Reapers urged their horses toward the building, grateful to see a low overhang

under which they could stable their mounts. By the time they had the beasts taken care

of and were inside the musty, less-than-appealing shack, the rain was coming down

even harder.

“It’s a gods-be-damned monsoon!” Kasid grumbled as he looked around for a

lantern.

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“We aren’t going to find anything in here,” Glyn told him. “This place has been

picked clean.”

“And smells of rodents and serpents,” Kasid said with a lift of his lip. He pulled off

his slicker and shook it.

“Better than being stuck out in the deluge,” Glyn replied as he too removed his

rainwear.

There wasn’t even a box or broken-down crate to use for sitting. They made a quick

circuit of the odorous room, decided no snakes were lurking about and took a seat on

the dirty floor.

“I sure as hell have no intention of spending the entire day here,” Glyn said as he

brought his knees into the perimeter of his clasped arms. “I’d rather take my chances in

the storm.”

“We could look for better accommodations,” Kasid agreed.

Glyn’s thoughts went to the stage station where he had spent an evening with a

woman whose memory haunted him like a will-o’-the-wisp.

“What’s her name?” Kasid asked softly.

Realizing he was broadcasting his thoughts instead of keeping them to himself,

Glyn released a long breath. “Mystery,” he replied. “Mystery Butler. I met her on the

stage.”

“I got a glimpse of her in your mind,” Kasid said, and when Glyn turned a frown

upon him, the Akhkharulian Reaper arched a shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to spy on you.

The thought was just that strong.”

“And one I can’t seem to push aside no matter how hard I try,” Glyn said.

Kasid smiled gently. “Something tells me you haven’t really tried all that hard, my

friend.”

“I want her,” Glyn surprised himself by saying then once that admission had been

made aloud he gave in to the need to talk about her. “I want her as much as I want my

next breath.”

“But you have not broached the subject with Lord Kheelan,” Kasid observed.

“I have Her permission,” Glyn said, referring to the Triune Goddess. “She told me

not to worry about him.”

“Not exactly a healthy thing to do,” Kasid reminded him.

“Oh, I’ll ask his okay when the time comes, but for now, I’m going to hold off

telling him about it. As I left things with her, she wasn’t exactly happy with me.”

“Oh,” Kasid said, nodding. “All was not well in paradise.”

“I made an ass of myself because she scared the shit out of me,” Glyn admitted.

“I’m not used to having feelings for a woman and then there’s her little girl.”

“Oh.” That time Kasid’s word dropped like a hot rock.

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“I think I’m as much enamored of her as I am her mother,” Glyn stated. “She’s a

precious little thing. You just want to pick her up and nibble on her.”

“So her having a child is not a deterrent,” Kasid queried.

“Not at all, and it seems the Fates are pushing me toward her. She was headed to

Charlestown, so once we get there, I’ll be looking her up.”

“Then it is good, my friend,” Kasid declared. “A man was not meant to live his life

alone.”

“That’s what She said,” Glyn said then clarified by naming the speaker. “
Mo

Regina
.”

“So what is your mystery woman like?” Kasid asked with a grin.

“You said you saw her in my thoughts,” Glyn said, “so you know she is beautiful.”

“A woman of color,” Kasid said with a nod. “The loveliest of the lovelies.”

“Her eyes are like warm chocolate and she has a soft voice that makes the hair stir

on my arms.” He sighed. “And elsewhere.”

“She stirs your pool of lust,” Kasid remarked.

“Until it is a maelstrom,” Glyn agreed. “I’ve never wanted a woman as badly as I

want her.” He lowered his voice. “And when I dream, I enter her dreams. When I look

into her eyes, I see the dreams she’s had in the past.”

Kasid nodded. “A sure sign a man and woman should be together,” he declared. “It

was so with my grandmother and grandfather and equally so with my parents. I am

told when you share a woman’s dreams, you are a fortunate man.”

“I dream we are about to make love and when we do, it is as though the earth is

moving beneath me.”

“Another auspicious sign,” Kasid said. “My people believe in signs.”

“I’ve never had the desire to have a mate,” Glyn confided. “I’ve always maintained

that I didn’t to anyone who’d listen but now…”

“Now things have changed,” Kasid said.

“I’m being drawn to her, Jaborn, like iron filings to a magnet.” He gave Kasid a

worried look. “Could the goddess be doing this, do you think?”

Kasid folded his legs tailor fashion to get more comfortable. “Iden and I had a long

talk about it a day or so before he and the others went out to the Oklaks Territory. We

were discussing the punishments Cynyr, Bevyn and now Owen were given for taking a

woman without permission.”

“Owen’s punishment wasn’t exactly for that reason,” Glyn reminded him.

“Not technically but we both know it was because of Rachel.”

Glyn nodded. “Aye, you’re right and that punishment would have been more

severe had it not been for Aingeal’s intervention.”

“Thank the goddess Lord Kheelan values the lady’s opinion.”

“It goes deeper than that and we both know it,” Glyn said quietly.

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“Aye, that too, but it isn’t right that because the Shadowlords have no mates that

we must remain alone as well,” Kasid complained.

“The Shadowlords don’t wish for us to mate for security reasons as well as the

division of loyalty that might arise, yet I strongly suspect if they were allowed, our

masters would take mates.”

“It makes you wonder if they are truly celibate or just want us to believe they are.”

“I have always thought the Gatekeepers are daughters of the Shadowlords,” Glyn

suggested. “They have the same last names as the Shadowlords.”

“You are not alone in thinking that but who are their mothers and
where
are they?”

Kasid inquired.

“In the lands from which each Shadowlord came is my guess,” Glyn said. “Lord

Kheelan came from Rysalia. Lord Naois from Serenia and Lord Dunham from Oceania.

Perhaps Argent, Corallin and Aureolin were orphaned or—”

“They are our sisters so stay your discussion of us. We are no concern of yours!”

The sharp reprimand came from the High Lord and the words were hard and cold.

“The longer you sit, the longer it will take you to reach your destination. A little rain never

hurt anyone. Be about your mission, Reapers!”

Both men scrambled to their feet, feeling the harshness of the command to the

depths of their being. They snatched on their slickers and though it was still pouring

and the lightning hadn’t lessened any, ventured once more onto the trail heading south.

* * * * *

To the north in the solarium of the Citadel where they were having their

midafternoon tea, Lord Naois put a restraining hand on his fellow Shadowlord’s

shoulder. “Don’t let it annoy you, Khee. You know they talk about us all the time. We

are a source of mystery to them.”

“What we do, who we are, from where we hail is none of their business!” Lord

Kheelan snapped. “It galls me that they discuss us at all.”

“We know all there is to know of them but they know little of us, Khee,” Lord

Dunham reminded the High Lord. “It’s only natural there should be speculation.”

“They don’t need to know anything about us in order to do their job!” Lord

Kheelan protested. “And I’ll not have them speculating—as you label it—about my

feelings toward…” He snarled beneath his breath. “Toward
anything
!”

“A blind man could see the feelings you have for Lord Cree’s lady-wife, Kheelan,”

Lord Dunham said quietly. “You are not hiding those feelings very well.”

Lord Kheelan shot the Oceanian a nasty look. “I admire the woman, Dunham. Is

that not permissible?”

Lord Naois sat back in the large wicker fan chair, braced his elbows on the wide

curved arms and steepled his fingers. “What bargain did you make with the lady in

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regard to Tohre’s punishment?” He stared intently at his fellow Shadowlord and when

Lord Kheelan did not answer, Lord Naois shook his head. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Lord Naois?”

The voice of the Prime Reaper intruded on the conversation.

“Aye, Lord Arawn?” Lord Naois replied.

“Did you arrange for the drone, Your Grace?”
Gehdrin inquired.