Prime Reaper (24 page)

Something else had been driven home forcefully to Lea Walsh. She had come close to not only losing her life but losing the reason she had for living. She had known Bevyn would find a way to join his team and Lord Kheelan had warned her in his roundabout way that it would happen. Her fear for her mate’s safety had been uppermost in her mind and it was because she had been so engrossed in that fear that she had not sensed the presence of her killer.

Her eyes cut across to the empty beaker of Sustenance that had been delivered to her that morning. There had been one wild moment when she started to pour the vile liquid out but the hellion inside her would not allow it. Crying hysterically, she had drunk the hideous liquid, consigning Kheelan Ben-Alkazar to the farthest reaches of the Abyss for what he had set into motion. When the healers and their assistants had forced their way into her room and held her down for the tenerse—that godawful brew—to be 130

Prime Reaper

administered, she had fought and cursed them until the wretched pain that had been plaguing her had subsided then died away altogether.

“You will need the Sustenance and the tenerse every day from henceforth, Lady Lea,” Healer Dresden had told her. “You will experience no more pain now.”

“Whose blood was that?” she had shrieked.

“Your mate’s,” the healer replied.

With the taking of Bevyn’s blood, she had felt an immediate closeness to him and discovered she could
sense
him though he was thousands of miles away. As she had not before, she now understood why he had insisted upon taking a small portion of her blood when they had begun living together.

“I will be able to find you wherever you are,” he had said, and at the time, the words had chilled her for she knew she would never be able to escape him. “I would know if you needed me.”

Why had he not known she was in dire trouble the evening before? she wondered. Why had he not come back for her unless someone had the power to keep it from him?

The sure knowledge of who had taken her life, of who had made it possible for her to become a Reaper came to Lea like a cold, wet blanket thrown over her shoulders. She shuddered violently.

“
Bevyn
?” she said, reaching out to him with her newfound ability. He didn’t answer and though she tried many times, she knew her entreaties were being blocked and there was only one person powerful enough to keep that from happening.

* * * * *

The weather turned violent and the
Bonnie Doneen
was being bombarded with vicious waves that poured over her railings to slosh across the teakwood decks. Howling like a banshee, the wind whipped around the schooner as the seas rose and fell, plummeting the ship into deadly troughs one minute then pitching it high in the air the next.

Battling with the sea, the helmsman’s eyes were steady, his hands locked upon the wheel. Securely lashed to eyebolts on the deck, a heavy hemp rope tied around his waist anchored the sailor to keep him from being swept overboard. Nevertheless the hapless man was being pitched to and fro by the force of the water driving against him and his flesh had turned a disturbing shade of blue from the chill. In their cabins, the Reapers kept out of the way of the sailors who scurried about to batten down all that might move or be pitched overboard with the violent tossing of the ship. All lights had been extinguished for fear of fire.

“There is a reason Reapers shouldn’t be on water,” Iden said. His face had a greenish tinge to it and he was clutching his belly as he lay huddled against the wall by his bunk.

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Phelan bent over the chamber pot once more and strained although there was no longer anything left to be brought up. He was paler than anyone had ever seen him, his usual cocky attitude gone. Clinging to the rim of the porcelain pot, he was grunting quietly.

Jaborn was sitting with his back to the wall, his forearms braced on his raised knees. Like Iden, he had been allotted a hammock but couldn’t lie in the thing for it was swinging wildly with the pitching of the ship.

Joined by the healer and Ash, Bevyn, Glyn and Cynyr were playing cards in their cabin. Due to the heavy dose of medication Owen had been given, he was sleeping soundly, oblivious to the storm outside but now and again every man there turned to look at him for he would groan and his body would flinch.

“He’ll be all right, won’t he, Sorrell?” Glyn asked as he threw down a card.

“Physically, he will,” the healer replied. “Emotionally?” He shrugged. “Well, that’s another matter.”

“He’ll be fine,” Cynyr said, his face grim.

Arawn appeared in the doorway. “Captain Ramos says we’ll be heading for a sheltered cove about five miles east of our present position. It will be safer to ride out the storm there.”

“I just want to get off this bobbing cork,” Ash said. “I’ve never cared for sailing.”

“How’s Owen?” the Prime Reaper asked.

“Sleeping like a baby,” Cynyr answered. “We half expect him to stick his thumb in his mouth.”

Glyn chuckled. “Well, if his bippee needs changing, don’t look at me, Cree.” He shook his head and threw in his cards. “I’m out.”

“Me too,” Bevyn said. He sat back in his chair and put the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I could use some of Moira’s blueberry pie right about now.”

Bracing himself in the doorway, Arawn folded his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll raid the galley. My stomach is sticking to my ribs right about now.”

Bevyn nodded and got up to accompany Arawn.

“I don’t know how you men can eat anything,” Ash grumbled, “but I’ll come along to help.”

“There’s no need,” Arawn said.

“’Tis my job, milord,” Ash stated. “As your steward—”

“Stay put, Ash,” Arawn ordered. He gave the man a look that said there would be no argument.

Under the table Cynyr nudged Ash with the toe of his boot and when Ash glanced at him, Cree shook his head. Ash stayed where he was.

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“Has Lea tried to reach out to you?” Arawn asked when Bevyn and he stumbled along the companionway, heading for the galley.

“No,” Bevyn said. “I imagine she’s still pretty damned pissed at me.”

“She’s not mad at you,” Arawn disagreed. “By now, they will have given her your blood as Sustenance. It concerns me that she hasn’t tried to contact you.”

“She’s pissed,” Bevyn repeated. “I know Lea.”

They made it into the galley to find the cook preparing cold sandwiches for them. As the man and his assistant worked, Arawn motioned Bevyn off to one side.

“What are your plans once we get back to the Citadel?” the Prime Reaper inquired. Bevyn cocked a shoulder. “I will ask her to marry me. I should have done that long ago anyway.”

“And if she refuses?”

Coure looked away. “I don’t know, Ari. Things weren’t good between us when I left. Now?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his black leather pants. “I honestly don’t know what I’ll do. I love her more with every beat of my heart.”

“And if she decides to leave you?”

Bevyn’s gaze was direct. “I won’t let her go.”

“It will be different now,” Arawn said. “She’ll be stronger and she’ll have a Reaper’s powers.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’ll be facing something similar with Danielle when I get back.”

“Aye but Danni has accepted the Transference,” Bevyn reminded him. “I know Lea. She has cursed it.”

“Will you go back to the Armistenky Territory?”

Bevyn blew out a long breath. “That’s where I’ve been stationed for the last ten years. She likes it there although she prefers the Citadel. The people in the nearest town have never had much to do with us and more than likely they’ll like us even less now that Lea is—” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “On second thought, we might just move somewhere else within the territory. It’s a big section of the country.”

The cook had made two trays with enough ham sandwiches, sliced celery, carrots and sweet pickles for the Reapers and the two men accompanying them. Taking the trays, Arawn and Bevyn headed back to the cabins. Overhead, they could hear the sailors scurrying about as the ship headed for the cove Captain Ramos had mentioned. Phelan was too sick to eat and Iden just waved them away. Jaborn looked at the sandwiches and shook his head, explaining he could not partake of the ham nor could he take the bread and cheese that had touched the forbidden animal’s flesh. He took the vegetables and sat there munching quietly. Bevyn offered to go get him some bread and cheese but the Akhkharulian declined.

“I am not hungry,” he said.

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Going back to Bevyn’s cabin, Arawn joined the men—except for Ash—in gobbling down the food. The Reaper’s steward left the room, the smell of the food making him nauseous.

“Sounds like they just dropped anchor,” Cynyr remarked.

“Ramos says we should be able to take the boat ashore,” Arawn said. “I’d like to take a walk on solid ground for a while.”

It was close to midnight by the time the jolly boat was lowered and the Reapers, the men who had come with them, Captain Ramos and three of his sailors landed on the shore of Quanto Cay. The wind was surging with even more violence and the schooner was straining at its anchor. Overhead the palm fronds were lashing with a harsh rustling sound and the waves were crashing to the beach.

“There is a village just to the north,” the captain yelled over the skirling wind and pounding rain. “Raoul will lead you there while I see to getting the rest of the crew to shore.”

Trudging along behind the sailor leading them, Glyn and Cynyr were carrying Owen on a litter. Still dead to the world, the Reaper was snoring lightly, the rain beating down on the hood Arawn had thrown over his face to protect him.

“I’m never going to let him live this down,” Glyn grumbled, shifting the unconscious man’s weight.

“I just hope he’ll be able to look back on it and laugh,” Cynyr said. After they were settled in a hut provided for them by the tribal chieftain, the Reapers sat before a cheery fire and ate a basket of fruit the chieftain’s wife had provided. With the storm lashing the structure, it was difficult to think about sleeping. As the night wore on though, one by one they curled up on the comfortable pallets given to them.

“
Bevyn?
”

Coure straight up on his pallet, swinging his head from side to side. “Lea?” he asked softly, not realizing he had spoken aloud until one of the men around him grunted with annoyance at being disturbed.

“
Where are you?
”

He knew that tone of voice all too well. His lady feared the dark, feared being alone, and when storms raged, she spent the night practically tucked beneath him as the tempest roared.

“
I’m with you in my heart, milady
,” he said, reaching out to her the only way he could—with his mind.

“
I need you
.”

There were tears in his lady’s voice and such great sadness, it brought tears to his own.

“
I will be there with you as soon as I can, Lea
,” he whispered.

“
She killed me
.” It was a plaintive statement.

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“
Who, milady?
” he asked, clenching his teeth to her misery.

“
I need you
,” she said again, and he could hear her crying. No matter how many times he tried to contact her again, she did not answer. His heart was aching, his soul hurting.

“What’s wrong, Bevyn?” Arawn asked from across the fire.

“I have to go to her,” Coure said, throwing off the light blanket that covered his legs.

“In this storm?” Cynyr asked, sitting up.

The other men stirred—even Owen who came awake with a start—and they all sat up.

“What’s going on?” Cynyr asked.

“You’ll be flying right into the storm,” Glyn reminded him.

“I have to go to her,” Bevyn repeated. He stood up.

Cynyr tossed his own blanket aside. “Then I’ll go with you.”

“We’ll all go,” Arawn said. He looked at Iden. “Go tell the captain we’ll be flying out of here. Have Sorrel and Ash pick up our weapons and the horses and head back to the train.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Ari?” Glyn asked. He glanced at Owen who looked groggy. “Tohre won’t be able to—”

“Tohre will be just fucking fine,” Owen snapped. He raked his hands through his hair. “Is it raining?”

“It’s storming,” Glyn informed him. “We’re in the midst of what may very well be a hurricane and we’re going to go flying through it? This is not the brightest thing we’ve ever done and battling headwinds like this will wear us the hell out.”

Arawn was on his feet, buckling on his gun belt. “Who said we were going to wing our way there?” He looked up at the palm frond ceiling. “Where are you,
Mo Regina
?

We need you.”

Bevyn’s eyes flared. “Oh no! I’m not hopping up on Her back again, Arawn!”

“Not even for your lady?”

The voice was sultry and it arrived only a second or two before the beautiful redhaired goddess. As naked as the day She had been born of wild wind and foaming sea, She stood before them with green eyes sparkling.

“I am not going to—”

Morrigunia lifted Her hand and in the blink of an eye, the Reapers were high above the raging storm, looking down from a large wicker gondola that was gripped in the brutal-looking talons of an iridescent green dragon.

“You know She could have taken us to Calizonia like this and saved us a lot of time,” Glyn said.

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“
Do you
dare
question the things I do, Reaper?
” Morrigunia’s voice was sharp and chastising in Glyn’s ear and he slapped his hands to his head.

“No,
Mo Regina
!” he was quick to reply, but the ringing in his ears was painful.

“
Good, for I never do anything without a reason but just for your information, this sort of
thing is as taxing to Me as you rearranging molecules to fashion your uniforms is for you.
Imagine a thousand, thousand times the expenditure of energy for you and you will understand
why I thought it best to conserve all My energies for the coming fight.
” There was a wild screeching sound as though the goddess were hissing. “
Do not ever question Me again!
”