My Reaper's Daughter (45 page)

“That’s something I guess,” Glyn said quietly.

“You didn’t do anything the rest of us wouldn’t have done if we’d been in your

boots, Glyn, so if you’ve been worried how the rest of the team feels, now you know,”

Arawn stated. He put a heavy hand on Glyn’s shoulder. “We will be there for you.”

Glyn gave the Prime Reaper a fleeting smile. When Arawn removed his hand,

Kullen squared his shoulders. “Have I been put on bread and water or can I have lunch

with the rest of you?”

The corner of Arawn’s mouth quirked. “Oh, I think we can allow you a drumstick if

you promise to be a good little prisoner.”

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“Harold’s garlic-fried drumsticks?” Glyn asked, brows elevated.

“With mac and cheese, baked beans and at last count, four or five kinds of pie since

he didn’t know what Lady Valda would like.”

Glyn had to look away for his eyes filled with tears. “He’s really a softie at heart,

isn’t he?” he asked.

“He loves children,” Arawn said, and motioned for Glyn to precede him to the train

steps. “Although he’d rather take a beating from our resident Amazeen than admit it.”

He snorted. “He dotes on Cyn’s boy and Owen’s twins, but if you were to ask him, he’d

say they’re nothing more than a pesky, smelly trio.” He slapped Glyn on the back.

“He’s already putty with Lady Valda and I imagine he’ll be that way with the one

growing in your lady as we speak.”

Glyn turned before putting his foot on the first step and locked eyes with Arawn.

“There’s only one thing I would ask of you, Lord Arawn,” he said, putting the request

into a formal appeal. “If I am not there for the birth of my son, that you will allow Owen

to stand in my stead. I would like him to be godfather to the boy.”

Arawn smoothed a hand on Glyn’s back. “Consider it done, Lord Glyn.”

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Chapter Twenty

Valda’s eyes were wide as she stared out of the carriage window as the vehicle

neared the Citadel. Ahead of the carriage in which she, her mother and new father rode

was another identical carriage carrying the four other Reapers. Her uncle LaVon had

insisted on sitting with the driver, apparently too nervous to sit with the Reapers

though he’d been invited.

“Look at it, Mama,” Valda whispered. “Have you ever seen anything so big?”

“No, sweeting, I haven’t,” Mystery said, even though she had yet to get a glimpse

of the fortress. She was distracted as she sat beside Glyn, his manacled hand in hers.

“It’s gonna be all right,
ben my chree
,” he said softly, and squeezed her hand.

“I feel as though I’m riding with you to your execution,” she said, her lips

trembling and red eyes puffy from having cried most of the morning.

“That isn’t an option,” he reminded her—as he and the others had several times

already. “A long prison sentence is the most likely.”

Hearing those words caused Mystery to whimper. She laid her head on her

husband’s shoulder, hiding her face against the soft silk of the shirt. He’d been allowed

to fashion the garment that morning when he’d been unshackled long enough to take a

bath on the train.

“I can’t go before the High Council in a dirty T-shirt and torn jeans,” he’d

complained to Lord Arawn. “And I smell.”

“There are people lined up on the steps, Mama!” Valda said, her high excitement

making her voice go up an octave. “I see ladies in black uniforms like Daddy Glyn’s and

three pretty ladies in long gray gowns!” She looked at Glyn. “Who are they?”

“The women in black are Lady Reapers. The ones in gray are the Gatekeepers,

Valli,” Glyn told the child. “You’ll like them. They are sweet like you.”

Valda giggled and hugged her dolly tighter. She made a low, whistling sound.

“Daddy Glyn! There’s a woman with a spear!”

“That’s Penthe. She’s an Amazeen.”

“I don’t see no children,” Valda complained.

“Any children,” her mother automatically corrected.

“There’s only a few who live at the Citadel,” Glyn told her. “Don’t worry. You’ll

meet them.”

The child twisted around on the seat. “Do they got puppies or kitties, Daddy

Glynnie?”

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“Valda,” her mother said in a stern voice. “You know your father told you there are

no animals at the Citadel. The Shadowlords don’t allow it.”

“Mean old men,” Valda grumbled, and flounced down in the seat.

When the carriage stopped and the door opened, there was a Reaper standing there

Mystery had met once before. He had been the one to find and remove the rogue who

had killed Mystery’s first husband. She clutched Glyn’s arm tighter.

“Milady,” the lawman said, and held his hand out to Valda. “I am Owen. Do you

remember me?”

Valda took the man’s hand without a second thought. “You got that rogue who

killed my other daddy,” she said. “Yeppers, I ’member you.” She looked up at him with

a wide smile. “I’m a Reaper too, do you know that, Owen?”

“I surely do know that and I look forward to working with you in a few years,”

Owen replied, glancing at Glyn.

Valda giggled and stepped aside so Lord Owen could help her mother out of the

carriage. “Come on, Mama! Hurry up!” she encouraged.

“Glyn…” Mystery said, clutching at her husband.

Glyn had difficulty removing his hand from her trembling grip. He reached up to

cup her chin and looked deeply into her eyes. “You are a Reaper’s mate,” he said in a

firm voice. “You are made from sterner stuff than other females. I want you to hold

your head high, step out of this carriage and meet the future at my side and not hiding

behind me.” He tugged on her chin. “Do you hear me, Myst?”

She took a long, deep breath. “Aye, beloved. I hear you.”

He released her. “Now give Owen your hand.”

She got up from the seat and moved to the door, placed her hand in the Reaper’s

and stepped down from the carriage. From the moment her foot touched the marble

pathway that led to the fortress, everything passed in a blur.

She was introduced to Lord Iden Belial, Lord Cynyr Cree and Lord Owen’s twin

Lord Eanan, the Lady Reapers—Aingeal, Danielle, Lea and Rachel. The imposing

female warrior, Penthe. The Gatekeepers—Argent, Corallin and Aureolin. The healers

Desden and another named Benjamin something or other, to a smiling man named

Giles D’Brickashaw, who was the Primary Guide at the Citadel, and a couple more

whose names and titles she completely missed.

But it was the three unsmiling, stern-visaged men to whom she was introduced last

that snapped her from her self-imposed vacuum and she faced them with growing

anxiety.

“Lord Dunham Tarnes and Lord Naois Belvoir,” Lord Owen named them and the

two Shadowlords bowed slightly.

Mystery sensed the man who was the last to be introduced was the one who was

the most important. He would surely be the High Lord and the man who held her

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husband’s fate in his hands. Unable to control the urge that gripped her, she went to her

knees before him though she heard him hiss like a viper at her temerity.

“Please don’t take him away from me,” she pleaded, putting a hand on the man’s

highly polished boot. “Please, I beg you.”

The area around the steps of the Citadel was as quiet as the grave. Not a single

sound broke the silence. Tears stung the eyes of most of those gathered—even the man

whose foot she touched and whose jaw was clenched so tightly.

“You’d better not take my daddy away from us,” Valda spoke up. She came to

stand beside her mother and glared up into the face of the man with whom her mother

pleaded. “You hear me, you mean old man?”

Breaths were drawn in but not one of the adults dared speak. Mystery was too

terrified to do so and Glyn—who had been hurrying toward his wife to order her to her

feet—came to a stumbling halt, his eyes wide as he stared in fear of what the High Lord

would do.

Lord Kheelan Ben-Alkazar switched his hard brown stare from mother to child and

then he blinked.

“I am not a mean man, Lady Valda.”

Valda tucked her dolly under her arm and put her hands on her hips. “Can I have a

puppy then?”

The silence got even deeper as breaths were held to hear the answer.

“No,” the Shadowlord said. “You may not have a puppy but neither will I take your

new father from you.”

Mystery’s head snapped up. “You won’t put him in prison?”

Lord Kheelan ignored her question and hunkered down until he was nearly at eye

level with Valda.

“Lady Valda,” he said, “As a future Reaper, you must learn to obey the rules and

regulations of the High Council. Are you prepared to do that?”

Valda considered his question for a moment. “I guess so,” she said.

The High Lord shook his head. “That’s not good enough. You must know without a

doubt, Lady Valda.”

“If I do, will you let me have a puppy?”

To those who did not know the High Lord, the movement of his lips might well

have been a hard grimace he struggled to refrain from allowing. To those who knew

and understood the man, they realized he was striving to keep a smile in check.

“No puppy, Lady Valda,” he said firmly. “Not now and not in the future.” He

arched a thick brow. “Are we clear on that issue?”

Valda sighed deeply. “I ’pose so,” she agreed.

“And as to the rules and regulations?” he prompted.

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The little girl puckered her lips and rolled her eyes. “If Daddy Glyn says I have to

follow them rules and reglations, I will.”

“Those rules and the word is regulations,” the High Lord clarified.

Valda nodded. “Whatever.”

“Then let us seal the deal between Shadowlord and Reaper,” he said, and held out

his hand.

For a long moment Valda didn’t move but then she slipped her delicate fingers into

his palm for a split second before withdrawing them and wiping them down her skirt.

“I still think you’re a mean old man,” she told him, spun around on her heel and

went to wrap her arms around Glyn’s leg. She looked up and when he met her gaze, the

little girl winked.

Lord Owen stepped forward to help Mystery to her feet, speaking softly to her as

he drew her a few feet back from the High Lord.

“Giles,” Lord Kheelan said as he got to his feet, “show Lady Mystery and her

daughter to their new quarters and make sure they are comfortable.” He flicked his

gaze over Glyn. “Lord Arawn, bring your prisoner to the High Council chambers.”

“May he have a few moments alone with his lady before he is sentenced, Your

Grace?” a beautiful woman spoke up from beside Lord Cynyr.

“No, Lady Aingeal, he may not,” the High Lord snapped. “He’s been with her on

the journey from Vircars here. What had to be said has already been said.” He turned

on his heel, and with his fellow Shadowlords behind him, climbed the steps into the

fortress.

Mystery whipped around. She put a hand out to Glyn but he wasn’t allowed to

come to her. Her shoulders began to quake as he was led away and she buried her face

in her hands. She barely felt the soft, gentle hands of Aingeal Cree gathering her into a

commiserating embrace.

* * * * *

“Go on ahead to the Council chambers,” Lord Kheelan told Lord Naois and Lord

Dunham. I’ll meet you there.” He alone among all those gathered had seen the arrival

of a visitor he had been eagerly awaiting.

Taking a turn down the corridor that led to a small, private study, he went inside.

The moment his visitor came through the door, he pounced.

“Where the fuck were You?” Lord Kheelan snarled. “How could You—?”

“Don’t use that tone with me, Shadowlord,” the Triune goddess Morrigunia hissed,

Her green eyes flashing vibrant fire. “You will show Me the respect I am due!”

The Shadowlord ignored Her warning, coming toe to toe with Her in his outrage.

“Your Reapers were in danger and You were nowhere to be found!”

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The Triune Goddess’ face turned hard as stone. “My Reapers were never in danger,

Ben-Alkazar. I knew precisely what was happening with them. They were trained to do

exactly what they did. Not once did I worry for their safety.”

“What of the little girl?” the High Lord questioned. “Were You aware of what was

happening to her?”

“Aye, I was.”

Lord Kheelan’s expression changed from anger to astonishment. “And You let one

of Your precious warriors implant a hellion into an innocent child? How could You do

that, Morrigunia? How can You justify…?”

“Did it ever occur to you that I allowed it to happen for a reason, Ben-Alkazar?”

Morrigunia interrupted him. “That perhaps the child has a destiny far beyond anything

you can conceive with your puny humanoid brain? That there might be somewhere in

the megaverse a young male Reaper chosen to be her mate and that between them they

might one day save this world from total annihilation?”

“She is a child!” he protested. “A guiltless child who did not deserve this evil

visited upon her!”

“The sins of the father, Kheelan,” Morrigunia reminded him with a steady look.

“The sins of the father.”

Lord Kheelan stumbled back, his face white, tears gathering in his eyes. “How long