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Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo

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“Give me a trusty six-shooter and a regular carbine you just load and shoot,” Cynyr said. “No technology there to speak of.”

Giles D’Brickashaw, one of the Citadel’s guides, was waiting for the warriors as they escorted their ladies inside the building. Beside him was another man dressed in the same dark brown uniform as Giles. Ranged about the entry hall were other guards, each carrying weapons.

“Welcome home, milords,” Giles said. “The Shadowlords are awaiting you.” He turned to the man on his left. “This is Samuel and he will take Miss Lea and Miss Danielle to your apartments.”

“What of my lady?” Cynyr asked, his hand tightening on Aingeal’s.

“Lady Aingeal is to accompany you, milord, to the High Council,” Giles replied.

“I’ve got a bad feeling,” Bevyn said softly to Arawn. “Something’s up.”

Arawn nodded. He told his wife to go with Samuel and gave her a shrug when she sent him a questioning look. “I’ll be along when I can,” he said to her. Following behind Giles, the men were grim-faced and Aingeal was filled with concern. Though she was technically a Reaper, she was not a warrior and she wondered why the Shadowlords would require her presence at one of their meetings. Everywhere she looked, she saw armed men and her worry increased.

Arriving at the anteroom of the High Council’s chamber, the three women who manned the receptionist desk looked up in unison from whatever paperwork upon which they’d been working. There were no smiles from the women and that in itself was a foreboding sign.

“Please take a seat, milords and lady,” the silver-haired woman in the middle instructed. “The Shadowlords will be with you shortly.”

Aingeal’s gaze was locked on the beautiful woman. “How are you, Argent?” she asked.

Cynyr glanced at his wife. He’d never heard the silver-haired woman’s name before and wondered how his lady knew it.

“We are well, your ladyship,” Argent replied with an elegant tilt to her head. “We were saddened to hear of your loss but we understand congratulations are in order.”

“Aye, the gods have blessed us with another child,” Aingeal replied. 18

Prime Reaper

“We are so happy for you,” the woman said, though she did not smile. As she sat down beside him, Cynyr leaned over to whisper to his wife. “Do you know the names of the other two women?” he inquired.

Aingeal looked at him. “Of course. The redhead is Corallin and the blonde is Aureolin. Why?”

“Humph,” Cynyr grunted with surprise. “Just wondering,” he mumbled. Obviously Bevyn was curious too for he also leaned over and asked Aingeal why Argent had used the term we instead of I.

“Because they are sisters and as the eldest, she speaks for them,” Aingeal told him.

“Why else?”

That surprised the two men and they turned to look at the women. Though each was stunningly beautiful, they bore no resemblance to one another.

“Same mother, different fathers,” Aingeal said.

“Ah,” all three men said in unison, letting Aingeal know Arawn had been listening to their conversation.

“I hate redheaded women,” she heard Arawn mumble in a fierce voice. For nearly half an hour the four Reapers sat in the very comfortable, formfitting chairs that seemed to mold to their bodies as they shifted about. They were offered refreshments by the blonde woman but they declined. Just as Arawn was about to ask how much longer they would need to wait, the door at the end of the hallway opened and the other four members of his Reaper team came walking toward him. Owen Tohre, the fourth highest-ranking Reaper, was followed by Phelan Keil, Glyn Kullen and Iden Belial.

“I’m liking this less and less,” Bevyn remarked as he stood up along with Cynyr and Arawn.

“You may go in now, milords and lady,” Argent announced.

Arawn took a deep breath and led the way to the door that opened into the High Council chamber. As soon as he saw the faces of the three Shadowlords, he knew something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

19

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Chapter Two

Lord Kheelan Ben-Alkazar of Rysalia was the High Lord, the High Commissioner of the Shadowlords and by right the most powerful of the three men. He sat between Lords Dunham Tarnes from Oceania and Naois Belvoir from Serenia. Before the dais upon which they sat were nine chairs arranged in a semicircle. Arawn and Bevyn exchanged a glance as they counted the chairs.

“Be seated, Reapers,” Lord Kheelan ordered. “Lord Arawn, sit in the center chair.”

His frown deepening, Arawn sat down with Bevyn to one side of him and Cynyr to the other. He could feel the uneasiness among his men and had intercepted Aingeal’s nervousness. Each one of them was keenly aware of the empty seat on the far left side.

“We have a situation,” Lord Kheelan said. “One we neither anticipated nor were aware we had until a few days ago.” He was sitting back in his chair, his elbows resting on the arms, fingers pressed together.

“That is the reason for the heightened security measures,” Lord Naois put in.

“Rest assured you and your women are safe within these walls,” Lord Dunham added.

Arawn started to speak but Lord Kheelan lifted a hand to halt him. “When we have explained the state of affairs to you, then you may ask questions. Until then, just listen,”

the High Lord stated. He looked to a door at the side of the chamber and when it opened, he turned his gaze to Cynyr Cree.

The man who came into the chamber and took his seat beside Glyn Kullen was tall and dark, handsome in a steely kind of way. Dressed in a black robe, the cowl had been thrown back to reveal black hair combed straight back from a wide forehead and falling in thick waves to his broad shoulders. Dark, mercilessly steady eyes looked straight ahead of him as he took his seat. He did not acknowledge the man to his right.

“Akhkharulian,” Bevyn hissed, making the word a curse.

Arawn had leaned forward and was studying the man. The Prime Reaper’s gaze dropped to Cynyr’s tightly clenched fist and when he raised his gaze to Cree, he saw murderous intent blazing on Cree’s face. “Who is he?” he asked Cynyr.

“Lord Kasid Jaborn,” Lord Kheelan answered. “Twin brother of the rogue Khnum, a man executed by Lord Cynyr.”

Aingeal also was staring at the man. She knew who he was, what he was, and had once accepted his blood as Sustenance when Otaktay had taken her captive. She could easily read his mind and knew he was uneasy, afraid though not a muscle of his face showed his anxiety. Although Jaborn had not been particularly kind to her, neither had be abused her, though she knew he would have if he had not had a grudging respect for 20

Prime Reaper

her as a Reaper. She had seen real fear in his eyes when she had sprung at him in her lupine form.

“What is he doing here?” Cynyr snapped. “And why the hell are you giving him the title of Lord? He’s nothing more than a rogue!”

“We will answer all your questions, Lord Cynyr,” Lord Dunham advised. “Be patient.”

“A few days ago, my fellow Shadowlords and I were having lunch when we looked up to see Lord Kasid standing in the room with us,” Lord Kheelan explained. “Needless to say we were quite annoyed. Not only because an outsider had slipped undetected through our network of guards, but that a
balgair
had been the one to infiltrate our defenses.”

“Such a breach was inexcusable,” Lord Naois said. “Believe me when I tell you heads rolled that day.”

Arawn shifted in his chair, alarmed something like that could happen. Jaborn had been Cynyr Cree’s responsibility to take out—just as he had removed the Akhkharulian’s twin—and he knew Cynyr had to be seething with outrage that the man was alive and there in the midst of the High Council.

“Had it been Lord Kasid’s intent to assassinate us, he quite probably would have taken at least one of us out before the other two could have reacted. As it was, he came to us unarmed and went to one knee to beg us to spare his life.”

“Something I’d have damned sure not done if I had been there,” Cynyr said, his jaw clenched.

“And had that happened, we would not have been made privy to the dangerous situation now brewing in Calizonia,” Lord Naois told him. Aingeal reached over to lay her hand over her husband’s fist. “Let’s hear them out,
mo shearc
,” she said quietly. She could hear her husband’s teeth grinding.

“We could easily have disintegrated Lord Kasid as he knelt there if any one of the three of us had sensed treachery from him,” Lord Dunham said. “But we did not. We delved into his soul and learned he had come here to ask for our help, not to murder us.”

“Did it not occur to you that you hadn’t sensed him in the first place?” Cynyr asked. “If he slipped past your guard—”

“Lord Cynyr,” Lord Kheelan interrupted, “we understand your animosity toward Lord Kasid and we remember well our order to you to remove him, but we are now demanding your attention to the matters at hand. Put aside your hostility and listen to what he has to say. If after that the two of you wish to engage in combat, then so be it.”

“Combat?” Arawn asked, his brows drawn together. “Reaper to Reaper?”

“Aye,” Lord Kheelan stated.

“You are making him one of us?” the Prime Reaper demanded. 21

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“He is already one of you, Lord Arawn,” Lord Naois reminded him. “He is simply no longer rogue.”

Cynyr snorted, his eyes blazing with hatred.

“Lord Kasid, please stand and relate why you came to the Citadel,” Lord Kheelan commanded.

Coming to his feet, Kasid kept his gaze straight ahead. His hands were hanging loosely at his sides, his fingers curled into fists almost as rigid as Cynyr’s. After taking a deep breath, he began.

“I came to Terra as part of the Ceannus team that landed in the mountains above Haines City,” he said. “I was brought here to help my fellow
balgairs
eliminate the Reapers and to destroy humankind.” He lifted his chin. “I came with vengeance in my heart, seeking to kill the man who had taken my brother’s life.”

“You can try,” Cynyr growled.

As though Cynyr had not spoken, Kasid continued.

“I had no love for the Ceannus and even less respect for the rogues who accompanied me here but I feared the power of the Ceannus and would have done whatever they ordered.” He lowered his head. “Until I saw the power of the goddess and the supremacy of Her wrath.” He looked at Lord Kheelan. “I knew then there was no greater authority than that of Queen Morrigunia.”

“And so you ran,” Cynyr scoffed. “You and that coward Otaktay.”

Jaborn flinched but he could not dispute what Cree had said, for in truth that was exactly what he and the Jakotai brave had done. “And I ran again,” he admitted, “when I realized the Ceannus had lied to us. There were seven Reapers in Haines City awaiting Otaktay, and I knew he would die at the hands of Cree. I did not wish to die alongside him.”

“Two cowards,” Cynyr called him.

The Akhkharulian turned so he could glare at Cynyr. “I could have slain your woman many times in that cave. I could have because she belonged to you, my enemy, but I did not!” he said. “I gave her my own blood to feed her. I tried to explain to her what was happening to her to make her Transition easier. For that can you not at least hear me out without insulting me?”

Cynyr opened his mouth, but Aingeal shushed him. “Aye, Jaborn,” she said, holding her husband’s angry glower. “He will.”

“Go on with your tale, Lord Kasid,” Lord Kheelan ordered. Jaborn inhaled a long breath before he continued.

“I fled to the southwest, wanting nothing more than to live. I reasoned that if I did not attack humans as the rogues did, if I laid low and kept only to myself, taking Sustenance from animals to sustain me, you Reapers would not have reason to come after me. I had no more love for Khnum than he for me and I laid aside my vow to 22

Prime Reaper

avenge his death.” He shook his head. “I did not think of the tenerse I had with me running out.”

“Ah, so now we know why you came here,” Bevyn said.

“No,” Jaborn denied. “That is not why.” He looked at Coure. “I found tenerse in Calizonia, Lord Bevyn. All the tenerse I would ever need.”

“How?” Arawn asked. “Where?”

“From the Ceannus encampment where hundreds of
balgairs
are being readied for their attack on the Citadel,” Jaborn stated.

Shock drained the color from the faces of the Reapers. They were too stunned by the revelation to utter a sound as they stared at Jaborn. When he sat down, he never even glanced their way.

“When Lord Kasid informed us of what he’d discovered in Calizonia, we sent a recon ship there immediately,” Lord Kheelan said.

In unison, the Reapers—save for Lord Kasid who was already privy to the knowledge—turned to stare at the Shadowlord.

The High Lord nodded. “We have ships of our own and the men to fly them. This was the first time we had sent one out.”

Arawn slumped in his seat. He had had no idea that the High Council had either flying ships at their disposal or the wherewithal to fly them. He was as surprised as the rest of his team—and angry that he hadn’t been told.

“Our ships have stealth capability,” Lord Naois said, and at the confused looks on the Reapers’ faces explained that meant the ships were as undetectable to the Ceannus as their ships had been to the Shadowlords.

“What the recon crew found was exactly as Lord Kasid explained it to us. There is a large settlement of Ceannus beyond the mountain range in Calizonia, hidden until now from us by their technology. As best we could count, there were three hundred
balgairs
residing in the camp and at least half that many cybots.”

“Sweet Merciful Alel,” Owen Tohre whispered.

“As soon as I learned of the encampment, I tried to contact the goddess but—as yet—She has not responded,” Lord Kheelan said. “There is no way we can defeat a Ceannus team that large and that well equipped without Her help.”

“The Amhantareans provided us with a security system that will destroy any ship launched against us. That technology has been in place above the Citadel since Morrigunia brought us here,” Lord Dunham said. “We have never feared an attack from the skies on the Citadel. The Net is programmed so only Morrigunia can enter here whenever She takes the urge.”

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