My Reaper's Daughter (30 page)

“He and his lady-wife and sons are well,”
Lord Kheelan snapped, and then the

connection from the Citadel was broken.

“I don’t think Lord Kheelan likes us to have friendships within the team,” Phelan

observed.

“That’s because
he
doesn’t have any friends outside the other Shadowlords,” Glyn

stated.

“I too have noticed that,” Kasid agreed.

“Let’s get on over to Sagewood and see what we can find out,” Phelan suggested.

He unhooked his leg from the chair and stood. “I don’t think we need to let Tony know

what we learned from Copley and Tolliver yesterday though.”

“I agree,” Glyn said. “Something’s odd there. I might not remember what happened

after I left there but I distinctly remember him telling me he knew of no magic-sayers at

Sagewood.”

“Which means he’s hiding something,” Phelan said of his friend. “Tony knows

everything that happens on his plantation.”

* * * * *

At that moment Anthony Simmons was pacing his office, scowling deeply as his

housekeeper relayed to him what had transpired between her and the Reaper. He

stopped moving to give her a stony stare.

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“You are sure he will remember nothing of what took place after he left here?” he

probed.

“The coffee was laced with a powerful drug that wiped clean his memory when it

was digested,” Leilani explained. “He will not remember coming to my cabin nor will

be remember what I did to him while he was there.”

“And Mystery saw him in your bed?”

Leilani sighed heavily. She had already explained this to her employer twice before.

“Aye, sir. She saw him.”

“I don’t want any harm to come to him,” Simmons said, reaching up to run a finger

beneath the collar of his shirt. “To have harm come to a Reaper would be to bring hell

down on us from the Citadel and that we do not want!”

“No harm will come to him, Mr. Tony,” Leilani replied. “I have merely severed the

bond between him and the woman you want.” She smiled coyly. “Leaving Mystery

available for you.”

Simmons’ scowl deepened. “I might need help in that department.”

Leilani reached into the pocket of her apron and withdrew a small green vial. “This

added to a glass of juice will ensure her interest in you.” When he seemed reluctant to

take the vial, she boldly reached out to take his hand and lay the glass container in his

palm, closing his fingers over it. “She will not be able to deny you.”

The planter looked down at his closed fist for a long moment then lifted his gaze to

hers. “You lay with him?”

“I did,” Leilani lied. She had tried but the unconscious man’s shaft would not

stiffen no matter what she did nor could she push his flaccid flesh inside her cunt. After

an hour of trying, she had finally given up.

“You are sure?” he pressed. “For once a Reaper takes a woman, he can not take

another. That is common knowledge.”

“He is mine,” she stated, her chin high. “He will never again put his hands to

another.”

Simmons wiped his free hand across his sweaty brow. “There’s the other matter,”

he said. “I got the impression Kullen wasn’t buying my disavowal of any knowledge

concerning magic-sayers on Sagewood. Go fetch John Dirk for me.”

Distaste and fear shot through Leilani at having to confront the foreman but she

was too relieved to finally be allowed out from under her employer’s questioning to do

anything but bob a quick curtsy and hurry to do his bidding. Going to the foyer, she

picked up an umbrella and went out on the porch, calling for Dirk.

He startled her by appearing almost instantly behind her. “Did you fuck him?” he

growled.

She knew better than to try her lies on this man. Not only was she terrified of him,

she was forced to respect him for the commanding magic-sayer he was. She understood

he had more power in the very tip of his little finger than she possessed in her entire

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body and it was an all-encompassing deadly power totally without sympathy, pity or

mercy. His Master was one she feared beyond all the loa at her command.

“No, Monsieur Jean,” she said.

“You have something that belongs to him?”

It was a sly question that filled her with absolute terror for—again—she could not,

dare not lie to him.

“I have his hat and slicker,” she confessed.

“And?”

“Monsieur Jean…” she began, but his hand shot out and he wrapped his fingers

tightly around the back of her neck, pulling her toward him as he knocked the umbrella

out of her hands.

“Make no mistake about that one, wench,” the tall man snarled. “He will not be

yours no matter what feeble magic you attempt to wield. He has been chosen by the

Master.” He shook her roughly. “Now I will ask you again—do you have something

that belongs to him?”

Her knees shaking, her bowels feeling loose at his vile touch, she managed to nod.

“I have fingernail clippings, hair and a few drops of his blood,” she admitted.

“All of which you will render into my care,” John Dirk instructed. He released her,

shoving her from him. “Get them now and bring them to me.”

She nodded miserably as all hope of the love she had sought to acquire began to

dwindle away, but as she bent to retrieve the umbrella, she reasoned that if she could

not have the handsome Reaper, at least Mystery Butler would not get him either. She

stepped out in the rain but the gruff voice stopped her.

“Why were you calling for me?”

“Mr. Tony is looking for you.”

A rude snort of derision came from the foreman. “And we both know why, eh?” he

asked.

Leilani knew an answer wasn’t required so she hurried through the downpour,

thinking of what might have been had she been allowed to keep the Reaper as her own.

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Chapter Fourteen

“I’m mad at you, Glynnie!”

The little girl stood in the doorway with her thin arms crossed and a brutal pout on

her lips. Her eyes were narrowed into thin slits and the numerous pigtails jutting out

from her small head quivered with what could only be described as outrage.

“What did I do?” Glyn asked. He dropped to one knee on the porch as his fellow

Reapers sat astride their horses behind him.

“You made my mama cry and that wasn’t nice!” Valda stated. “You ought to be

horsewhipped!”

Overhead lightning pulsed across the heavens and a loud shriek punctuated the

child’s words.

“Valli, I don’t—”

“You go away, Glynnie Kullen!” Valda snapped. “You just go on away!”

With that, Mystery’s daughter stepped back and slammed the door. The sound of

the lock sliding into its hasp stamped finality to the conversation.

“Mystery?” Glyn called out as he got to his feet. “Open the door and tell me what’s

going on.” When there was no reply, he called her name again.

“She ain’t gonna open that there door, milord.”

Glyn turned to see an elderly woman of color standing at the end of the porch.

Where she stood, the rain did not reach and her white gown was dry as it fluttered

against her scrawny legs.

“Why not, milady?” Glyn asked. He took a few steps closer to her. “What is it I am

supposed to have done?”

The old woman shrugged. “Ain’t nothing you did, milord,” the old woman said. “It

was what was done to you that Mystery saw.”

Once more the terrible cold shiver wriggled down Glyn’s spine. “And what was

done to me, milady?” he asked, but when he took another step, the aged woman held

up a staying hand.

“Look to the evil in this, Glynwood Kullen,” she said. “Look to the evil.”

“Glynwood?” he questioned. He hadn’t been called that in hundreds of years. No

one this side of the megaverse should have even known that name. When he opened his

mouth to ask her how she’d known his given name, she simply vanished.

“Shite!” he heard Phelan curse, and looked around to see his teammate making the

Sign of the Slain one. “That was a fucking ghostling, Kullen!”

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Glyn spun around and raised a fist to slam it hard against Mystery’s door.

“Woman, open this door or, by the gods, I swear I’ll kick it down!”

The door was jerked open to reveal Mystery standing there with tears running

down her cheeks. “This is a house of mourning, milord,” she informed him. “Show

some respect.”

Realizing the elderly woman next door must have been the apparition to whom

he’d just spoken, Glyn removed his hat but held his ground. “I’m sorry for your loss,

Myst, but I need to know what it is you think I did.”

“What I
think
you did?” she asked, eyes wide. “I don’t think anything, milord. I

know! I
saw
you!”

“Saw me do what?” he countered, unaware he was rolling the hat brim around and

around in his gloved hands.

“You,” she spat, and her eyes flashed sable fire. She lowered her voice so Valda

would not hear. “You stretched out on that whore’s bed!”

“Oh
hell
no!” he stated. “You didn’t…”

Mystery’s voice was a low, threatening hiss meant only for his ears. “I know what I

saw, Glyn! You were naked as the day your mother birthed you!” Fresh tears cascaded

down Mystery’s dark cheeks.

Glyn blinked and his mouth dropped open. His own eyes flared with shock. He

was so astounded by those words all he could do was look behind him to Phelan. “Tell

her,” he asked.

Phelan dismounted and stepped up on the porch, doffing his hat as he did.

“Milady, he doesn’t know what happened to him yesterday and—”

“Milord, I am not an idiot!” Mystery cut him off, her voice louder. She forced the

tone to a grating whisper. “I know what transpired in that woman’s bed even if he says

he doesn’t!”

“We found him last evening passed out facedown in the mud. He was unconscious

until morning,” Phelan told her. “He didn’t fake that and Reapers don’t lie. He says he

doesn’t know what happened after he left Simmons’ house and he is telling you the

truth of it. He is as incapable of lying as he is of taking another woman to his flesh after

he mated with you.”

Mystery’s face turned dark with embarrassment and she looked accusingly at Glyn,

but before she could berate him for revealing such intimate information about their

relationship, Phelan shook his head.

“He didn’t have to tell me. You have the scent of him on you.” He ducked his head.

“In you. You are his mate.”

Mystery looked at Kasid, who nodded his agreement.

“Who was I supposed to have slept with, Mystery?” Glyn whispered.

“I saw you!” she snapped at him.

“Who?” he insisted.

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“Leilani,” she said, practically spitting the word out as though it were bitter on her

tongue.

Glyn’s forehead creased. “Who?”

“Mr. Tony’s housekeeper!”

Memory supplied a picture of the woman in his mind and he gawked at her. “You

thought I would find her attractive?”

“You were naked,” Mystery insisted. “In her bed! What else was I to think but that

you found her desirable?”

He leaned toward her, towering over her shorter frame. “What did you do when

you saw me like that, wench?”

Her lips quivered. “You told me to go away,” she said then sniffed. “So I did.”

“I spoke to you?” he asked, stunned.

“You did. You told me to go away and I had enough pride left to know that if you

didn’t want me, I would not fight to hold on to you.”

A little head popped up beside Mystery’s leg and Valda’s accusing eyes were two

black holes of accusation as she stared at Glyn.

“What did you do to my mama, Glynnie?”

His face softened at the sight of the child and when he spoke, his words were

gentle. “Valli, get your coat.”

The child looked up at her mother for clarification of the command.

“Do as he says, sweeting,” Mystery said, bending down to kiss her daughter’s head.

“Glyn and I have some things to discuss.”

When Valda disappeared into the cabin, Glyn turned his attention to the man

beside him. “Phelan, you and Kasid take my daughter with you to the main house.”

If Phelan was surprised by the claiming of the child, he didn’t show it. He simply

nodded and rocked his hat back on his head.

Valda came out on the porch in her little slicker and floppy hat. She took Phelan’s

hand. “Come along, Mr. Reaper,” she insisted, tugging him behind her. “Mama needs

to box Glynnie’s ears big time! He’s been a bad, bad boy.”

Phelan chuckled then scooped the child in his arms and carried her out into the

rain, sat her atop his mount then swung behind her, leaning forward to shield her body

with his. Neither he nor Kasid spoke but turned their horses to urge them toward the

main house.

“Inside,” Glyn said, and his voice was stern as he put a hand to Mystery’s chest to

push her back gently.

Mystery bit her bottom lip, her eyes worried as the Reaper kicked the door shut

behind him and tossed his hat to the table, never looking to see if it landed where he’d

aimed. Her gaze dipped to his hands where he was slowly removing his gloves then

leapt back to his face.

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