My Tethered Soul: Volume 2 (Reaper's Rite)

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

Copyright © 2014 by Dorothy Dreyer

My Tethered Soul (Reaper’s Rite 2) by Dorothy Dreyer

All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Month9Books, LLC.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Published by Month9Books

Cover by Gina Gibson

Cover Copyright © 2014 Month9Books

“
A Zany and Fun YA Paranormal Novel!
”

– Stephanie Wardrop

“
Kept me up at night
.
”

– Sher A. Hart

“Man, this book... SO AWESOME! The magic, the myths, the romance... I loved it all!”

– Lili Lost in a Book

“…a really fun and quick read!”

– Angie

“A fresh paranormal read.”

– Cornucopia of Reviews

“I always love a good horror/thriller type book. Especially this time of year around Halloween. This book truly delivered that need for me.”

– 1bookloversopinion

For Kirsten, my lovely daughter,

and Rebecca, my loving mother.

The eyes staring back at me were pitch-black and void of life. Tunnel vision overwhelmed me, its biting grip piercing my brain. My knees buckled and my blood turned to ice. I tried to turn away, but was frozen in place. My eyes locked with the Reaper’s, and his gray, skeletal face twisted into a sneer.
Where’s the crossbow?
My breath came in short, erratic pulses. I was just about to scream when something hard slammed down on my shoulder.

“Zadie, what are you doing?”

I blinked. I wanted to answer Mara, but the Reaper’s gaze held me. The face in front of me morphed. The Reaper’s sneer slowly disappeared. Light trickled in and erased the blackness. Onyx eyes turned hazel. And I realized I was looking at myself.

“What—?” I blinked again. My fingers flew to my cheeks and then to the cold glass of the mirror. Had I been dreaming? I watched in the reflection as Mara came closer.

“Are you all right?” Mara moved her hand on my shoulder.

I winced as her fingers brushed the scar that still stung on contact. Nope, not dreaming. The pink, jagged remnant of the wound left by the Reaper’s knife last fall tingled uncomfortably.

“Sorry,” she said, retracting her hand. “So why are you staring at yourself down here?”

I turned to my sister, her eyes almost-glowing in the darkness of the living room. There was a time I had been deathly afraid of Mara—and standing in the dark alone with her would have totally freaked me out. But now it wasn’t Mara I feared.

“I don’t know.” I swallowed and wiped sweat from my forehead. A dull ache snaked from my eyes to my neck. “I guess I was walking in my sleep.”

“Well, I’m just getting some juice.” Mara studied me for a second more before heading to the kitchen.

I ran my fingers through my hair and followed her. Juice sounded good, especially with the dryness scraping at the inside of my throat. I didn’t remember coming downstairs. I could barely remember what I was dreaming before I imagined the Reaper in front of me.

Mara handed me a glass of juice. “You okay?”

We eyed each other. Was she thinking the same thing I was? I closed my eyes as I swallowed my drink, hoping it was merely a stress-induced dream that led me down the stairs to stare in the mirror. Praying it wasn’t some supernatural power seeking revenge by controlling my actions.

“Yeah,” I said, more to convince myself than her.

It was just a dream. That had to be the explanation.

“I can’t sleep so well either.” She took our glasses and set them by the sink. “Worried about finals. Wondering if I’ll get asked to prom.”

I had to laugh. Here I was, worried about an angel of death stalking me, and the biggest concern in Mara’s mind was whether or not a boy would ask her to go to a dance.

Or maybe she was just trying to lighten the mood.

“But we only have a few more weeks, then you’ve got summer break and I graduate. So that rocks, right?” She winked and softly touched my arm as she walked past me toward the stairs.

I sighed and followed her, fiddling with the pendant at my collar. The agate stone from Lilura Black—my mentor—slipped smoothly between my fingers. I wondered if there was any trace left of the spell she’d cast upon it the year before.

“Is Naomi still planning her annual School’s Out party?” Mara asked through a yawn.

“Bigger and wilder than the year before. Especially since her brother’s graduating.” I stopped in her doorway and leaned against the frame.

“Tell that best friend of yours I’d like an invite.” Mara grabbed a brush from her dresser and pulled it through her strawberry-blond hair. It was a strange sight to see her brushing her hair in the dark. Almost eerie.

“Can I ask you something?” I bit my lip, waiting for her answer.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Have you tried…lately?”

Mara’s gaze met the floor and she replaced the brush on her dresser. She knew exactly what I was talking about. Vila powers. Our ability to make things happen. When I defeated my sister’s Reaper seven months ago, Mara was stripped of her powers. Lilura told us there might be a chance for Mara to regain them, but there was no way to know for sure. Mara tried to will something—anything—to happen the first two months after her Reaper’s demise with no luck. I hadn’t asked her since if she tried again. Until now.

“No,” she said.

“But if you haven’t tried, then you don’t know for sure. Maybe you can—”

“Just drop it, Zadie!”

I flinched.

Mara quickly regained her composure, closing her eyes and holding her hands out as if to steady herself. “Sorry. I just don’t want to talk about it.”

“Like you don’t want to talk about going to visit Mom?” It came out of my mouth before I could stop myself. But I didn’t regret it. I had been holding it in too long. Our mother had been locked up in a mental institution for the past four years, since I was thirteen. It wasn’t until I found out about our family history—our half-faery/half-witch history—that I learned the real reason she lost her mind. If a Reaper couldn’t take a Vila’s soul, it could take her sanity instead. Mom’s Reaper was still out there, probably searching for her so he could finish the job he started. But there was a chance to save her from him. I vowed to help her defeat her Reaper. To finally bring her home again.

Dad and I visited Mom at least once a month, but Mara never made the trip with us. Not since before her accident last fall.

“I’m not ready.” She turned away from me and crawled into her bed.

“Why not? I don’t get it.”

Mara shook her head and shrugged. “I just…I know what it’s like to be haunted. To feel like there’s literally no escape from a demon. To have no choice but to give in. And knowing Mom is still… Zadie, it terrifies me to even think about being around that.”

A small, electric chill swept over my skin. I stepped into her room. “But we have to help her.”

“I know. And I am. I’ve been reading every book and journal Lilura puts in front of me. We’re getting closer. I just have to know for sure. Only then will I feel comfortable seeing Mom.”

I sat beside her on her bed and took her hand in mine. Mara’s episode with her Reaper had changed her. She used to be fearless, adventurous, full of life. I could see now that she was still recovering from the Reaper’s hold on her.

“I’m here for you, Mara. You know that.”

“Of course I do.” She squeezed my hand. “You saved my life twice. That kind of clued me in.”

I let out a small breath of a laugh that turned into a yawn.

“You should get some sleep,” she said.

“Yeah. You too.”

“Good night, Zadie.”

I smiled at her and headed for the door.

“Well, look at that,” she said.

I turned to face her. “Look at what?”

Mara pointed at the clock on her nightstand.