My Reaper's Daughter (23 page)

“There’s where they work,” Chet put in.

“So I can find her there?”

“School’s closed because of this weather so I imagine that’s where she’ll be. Out in

one of the cabins at the village. Can’t tell you which one, but anyone out there can direct

you to her place.”

“Can’t be much,” Reynolds observed. “None of them places are much.”

That news didn’t set well with Glyn but he nodded his thanks, asked directions to

the plantation’s village. Come morning—Phelan Kiel having returned or not—he would

be on his way to Sagewood and the woman whose siren call would not leave him be.

* * * * *

Leilani stopped on her way to the main house and stared at the riders coming

toward her. Rain hammered atop the umbrella she carried and wind whipped stinging

droplets into her face but she could not move. Her attention was riveted on the men,

both of whom tipped their hats to her as they drew near.

“Morning, milady,” the white one said in a voice that was as warm as honey and as

spicy as cinnamon. “Could you direct us to Mystery Butler’s cabin?”

“Mystery?” she asked. Of their own accord her eyes drifted to the darker of the two

men but then snapped back immediately to the one who had spoken.

“We were told she lives here in the village,” the handsome man in the black slicker

said.

Her heart thudding dangerously fast in her chest, Leilani took a step forward until

she could put a trembling hand on the man’s leg. She knew this man although she’d

never met him. She had dreamt of this man, although she had never seen him. She

knew his face as well as she knew her own and she knew his body though she had yet

to writhe beneath it. This was the mate she had begged for, prayed for, sacrificed to

obtain and here he was at last before her.

“You came,” she said softly, and caressed his leg through the wet fabric.

Thinking Mystery must have told this woman of him, Glyn smiled. “I did,” he

replied.

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“I knew you would,” she said, and stroked his leg.

“Lord Glyn?” Kasid spoke up.

“So where may I find her?” Unconsciously his legs tightened upon his mount,

urging the animal back and away from the hand.

“Who?” the woman asked, and her smile wavered as the contact between them was

broken.

“Lord Glyn.” Kasid was firmer with his words, louder in his intent to gain his

fellow Reaper’s attention.

“Aye?” Glyn irritably replied, looking away from the woman.

“We should not let the wench stand here in such terrible weather,” Kasid stated as

he held Glyn’s gaze.

“Best get your rump to work, girl, and leave the gentlemen be!”

Glyn looked away from his teammate and toward the sharp, angry voice that had

spoken. He saw a tall man with a dark complexion, dressed in work clothes, standing a

few feet away. There was a heavy scowl on the newcomer’s face and the stony stare

aimed his way made Glyn’s hackles lift. “Who might you be?” he asked.

“John Dirk,” the man replied. “Foreman of Sagewood.” He cocked his head toward

the main house. “Get on with you, wench.” His dark eyes narrowed beneath the brim of

his floppy gray felt hat. “Now.”

Leilani wanted nothing more than to stay, to put her hand on the handsome one’s

body—all over his body for that matter—but her fear of John Dirk made her hurry

away, her feet slapping through the mud puddles as she ran.

“Girl ain’t got the sense the gods gave a goat,” John Dirk commented. Despite the

rain washing down on him, he stood where he was with his arms folded, his attention

locked on Glyn. “I’m guessing you was sent from the Citadel to help out Kiel.”

Not
Lord
Kiel, Glyn noticed, but simply Kiel. The name had been spoken with no

hint at respect or deference, almost with disdain but not quite.

“I’m looking for Mystery Butler,” Glyn said.

The tall man blinked. “Is that so?” he asked and took a step closer. “And why is

that?”

“It’s personal,” Glyn snapped. Something about the man was bringing out the

anger in the Reaper.

A nasty smirk pulled at John Dirk’s thin lips. He nudged his chin toward a small

cabin set back from the others. “She’s over there with her bantling.”

Not bothering to thank the man, Glyn tugged on his mount’s reins and made a

clicking sound with his tongue to urge the horse toward the cabin.

“That is the one I want!”

The hissing words came down from the teeming heavens to settle like a heavy

mantle on John Dirk’s broad shoulders. The foreman nodded very slowly in agreement.

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He stood where he was and watched the Reapers dismount at the Butler woman’s door.

His steady gaze was on the taller of the two, boring into the lawman’s back like a steel

bit. So intense was that stare that the man receiving it felt it and turned to looked back.

“You’re going to get what you deserve,” John Dirk said beneath his breath. “Hell is

about to open up for you, pretty boy.”

* * * * *

Mystery tensed when the knock came. She’d been expecting news of Aunt Zettie’s

passing all morning and was reluctant to hear of it. Her feet dragged as she walked to

the door. Her heart felt heavy and unshed tears stung behind her eyes. She had to take a

deep breath to calm herself before she could pull open the portal. When she did—when

she saw who was standing on her little porch—her heart broke its rhythm.

“Hello, milady,” he said in that soft voice she had heard so often in her fevered

dreams.

She could not believe he was actually standing there with his hat in his hand, his

dark hair plastered back from his forehead, his handsome face peppered with rain. He

was rolling the hat around and around by its brim like an unsure teenage boy and there

was quiet desperation in his amber gaze.

“What are you doing here, milord?” she asked, barely noticing the other man in

black standing at his side.

“I came to see you.”

Just five innocent little words that made her knees go weak and that jump-started

her heart so it thudded painfully against her rib cage. Unable to speak, she simply

stepped back to allow him to enter, her eyes searching the floor under his booted feet as

he crossed the threshold. So stunned by this turn of events, she realized the man

accompanying him had not entered the cabin and looked up slowly at him.

“Milady,” the other Reaper said, removing his hat in respect. “I am Lord Kasid.”

A hesitant smile trembled on Mystery’s lips. “Won’t you come in, milord?” she

offered.

“Thank you, milady.”

Mystery shut the door and turned to see Glyn staring at Valda as the little girl slept.

He glanced around—forehead creased, eyes concerned.

“I gave her a few drops of paregoric,” Mystery said quietly. “She has a very bad

cold and was coughing so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. She needed to sleep.”

Glyn nodded and Mystery heard a low release of breath that told her he was

relieved it was nothing more serious. “Is she feverish?” he asked.

“A little.”

She moved toward him. “Let me take your coats, milords,” she said.

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Glyn lay aside his hat and put his hands to the steel buttons of his slicker. He peeled

out of the wet garment and handed it to her, his eyes moving over her so hotly she felt

the heat. She was grateful for the coolness of the rain on the slicker and clutched it to

her.

“Careful, Myst,” Glyn said. “You’ll get all wet.”

She couldn’t answer that and turned to the man who had come in with him. He too

had removed his slicker and gave it into her keeping.

“Bad day,” Lord Kasid observed.

“It has been a bad week,” Mystery acknowledged. Her gaze slid addictively to Glyn

and the breath stopped in her throat as she took in the black silk of his shirt clinging

wetly to his broad shoulders and muscular chest. She swallowed hard, every ounce of

willpower she possessed being held in check for she longed to run to him and plaster

herself to that lean, enticing body. “Are you here about the disappearances?”

Glyn nodded. “We’ve been sent to help Lord Kiel.”

Mystery’s heart sank. She should have known he hadn’t come just to see her. She

pointed to the small table. “Please sit. I’ll tell you what I know but it isn’t much.” Her

bottom lip quivered and she tucked it between her teeth.

“I didn’t come to see you for that reason but anything you can tell us would be

helpful,” Glyn was quick to tell her.

“Glynnie!”

The little voice turned the heads of the adults as Valda tossed her covers aside and

scrambled out of bed, propelling her little body at the Reaper like shot from a cannon.

Her thin arms went around his neck and she rained kisses on his bewhiskered cheek.

“I knew you’d come,” Valda said in between loud smacks. “I knew you would!”

She looked around at her mother. “Didn’t I tell you he’d come for us, Mama?”

Mystery’s cheeks burned and she put out a hand to pry her child from Glyn’s lap.

She wasn’t prepared for the fierce look he gave her as he wrapped his brawny arms

around the little girl and kissed the top of her head.

“You knew better than your mama, huh, Valli?” he asked, holding Mystery’s

surprised gaze.

“Uh-huh!” the child said, nodding emphatically. She turned her attention to Kasid.

“My name is Valda. What’s your name, Mr. Reaper?”

Kasid grinned and came over to hunker down beside the child. He offered her his

hand. “I am Kasid,” he said. When she slipped her little hand into his without

hesitation, he brought it to his lips. “It is an honor to meet you, Lady Valda.”

“That tickled,” Valda pronounced with a giggle when he released her hand. She

craned her head back so she could look up at Glyn. “Where you been, Glynnie?”

“Working,” he replied.

She laid her head on his shoulder. “I got a bad cold,” she said.

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“So I heard.” He put a hand to her forehead. “Are you feeling better?”

“I do now,” she stated, and plucked at one of the black pearl buttons on the front of

his shirt.

There was a knock at the door and Mystery tensed. She glanced toward it but didn’t

move to answer.

“What’s wrong?” Glyn queried.

“My neighbor is dying and…” Mystery shrugged helplessly. “I thought you were

one of her children come to tell me she’d left us.”

“It’s Aunt Zettie,” Valda whispered loudly. “She’s nice but she’s real old.”

The knock came again and Kasid pushed to his feet, telling Mystery he would get it.

He walked to the portal and opened it. He grinned when he recognized the visitor

standing on the porch.

“Taking up majordomo duties now, Jaborn?” Phelan Kiel quipped with a wink.

Kasid shot out a hand to grip Kiel’s—warrior to warrior—then pulled the younger

man into a brief embrace. “Someone must do your job for you.”

Phelan released a derisive breath and pushed past Kasid, jostling him in a goodnatured way. “I knew that was Nathair tied to the porch rail but I didn’t recognize the

other mount. Where’s Seabhac?” he asked Glyn.

“I had to put him down,” Glyn answered. He stood with Valda still clutched in his

arms, her scrawny legs locking around his hips as he extended a hand in greeting to his

fellow Reaper.

“Man, I’m sorry to hear that,” Phelan said, his face mirroring his unhappiness.

“That’s always rough duty.” He turned to Mystery, swept off his hat and nodded to

her. “How are you, milady?”

“I am well, Lord Phelan,” she responded.

“I’m Valda. ’Member me?” Valda asked.

“How could I forget such a beautiful young woman?” Phelan asked. He reached

out to tweak her nose then crossed his eyes at her.

“You’re silly like Glynnie,” Valda stated.

Phelan’s eyebrows shot up. “Glynnie is silly?” He gave his teammate a steady look.

“Now who would have thought that?”

“Mama knows he’s silly, don’t you, Mama?” Valda asked.

Mystery wished the floor would open up and swallow her. She held her arms out to

Valda. “Sweetie, I think the lords would like to talk together. Why don’t you and I go sit

down on the bed and give them some privacy?”

“Ain’t no privacy in these here places,” Valda repeated what she’d heard Aunt

Zettie said, but went into her mother’s arms.

“Valda!” her mother chastised then looked at Phelan with apology in her dark eyes.

“Would you like me to take your coat, milord?”

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“I can’t stay. Just needed to speak with these two gents for a moment.”

Mystery smiled at him and hoisted Valda farther up her hip.

Glyn watched the young mother walk across to the bed then turned his full

attention on Phelan. “What did you find in Beaumont?” he asked in a low voice.

“A bone yard the likes of which I hope I never see again,” Phelan answered in the

same quiet tone. “That set no better with me than my ability to contact the Shadowlords

or any of the rest of you.”

“I’m having the same problem,” Glyn admitted. “Right now it seems it’s only you

and me who are burdened by that though.”

“What of the goddess?” Phelan asked. “I can’t raise her.”

“None of us can, not even the Shadowlords,” Kasid joined in.