Unchosen (13 page)

             
“Molly.” Rath covered the distance between us. He lifted my throbbing hand and studied my fingers. Then he pressed his lips against my knuckles. The tingles of pain morphed into sensations far more acute and dangerous, edging into my belly, blooming into a heat that threatened to melt my bones.

Rath pulled me close, draped my arm over his shoulder, cupped my hips and pulled me closer still.

Then he kissed me.

             
His lips were soft, warm. Maybe his gesture was meant to comfort. Or to make me shut up. But as his lips gently assaulted mine, something foreign and dark stirred inside me.

             
For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t thinking about my destiny, my doubts, my fears, or my burdens.

I thought only of Rath.

Of now.

Of his lips against mine.

              Rath slipped his tongue into my mouth, and I felt an electric shock right down to my toes. His grip on me tightened, and I slipped both of my arms around his neck, my fingers threading through the soft silk of his hair.

             
One kiss turned into another … and another … and another. I lost the ability to breathe normally, to think rationally, to do anything … anything at all but
feel
. An unfamiliar yearning rushed through me, leaving in its wake only tingling heat and jumbled thoughts.

             
What was I doing?

             
What did I want?

             
What would happen next?

             
Rath answered the last question by abandoning my lips and trailing kisses down my neck.

The tender glide of his mouth against my skin left me shivering, and wanting.

My heart tripled its beat.

I’d never experienced anything like this before …
oh, wow
. Kissing Rath,
wanting
Rath in this primal way inspired exhilaration and terror.

The idea of having sex was scary, but I wanted more than knowledge gained by awkward conversations and romantic fiction—I wanted real experiences. In one act of physical and emotional connection with Rath, I could shed the last glittering strands of girlhood and embrace the darker truths of womanhood.

Maybe then I would feel prepared for all the other complicated and confusing parts of my life. I could step into the role I’d been born to occupy. I could shed the fears of a child—and gain the wisdom of an adult.

Even as these thoughts raced in my mind, and the rise of emotions tangled with the physicality of lust … oh, yes,
lust
, I fell deeper still into the sensual spell that Rath weaved with his wandering hands and roaming lips.

             
“Molly,” whispered Rath. He kissed me softly, drew in a shuddering breath, and pulled back. “We need to stop now.”

             
My lips felt swollen, and my body ached in an entirely delicious way. “No,” I said, tightening my hands on his shoulders. “Don’t … stop.” I licked my lips. “I’m ready.”

             
He put his forehead against mine, and closed his eyes. “I’m not, Molly.”

“Rath…”

“Shhh.” He kissed my nose, and then let go of me, taking a full step backward. “You need to stay focused. You’re already scattered enough. You don’t need any more distractions.”

“You’re not a distraction!” I protested. “You’re the only thing that makes sense right now. I need you.”

“That’s the problem,” he said. “You need to be strong on your own. Don’t rely on anyone, Molly, not even me.”

All the heat he’d created with his soft words, his sensual touches just seconds before … turned to ash. Cold seeped through me and my stomach knotted. “What about us?”

His expression shuttered and his gaze went blank. “Think about tomorrow, brown eyes.”

Rath faded into shadow, then into nothingness, an intentional reminder that he wasn’t of this world and because he was not … I could not have him.

Molly’s Reaper Diary

Reaper Relationships

IT’S HIGHLY UNLIKELY
you will meet any reapers while you’re training because you’re alive. Reapers populate my life because of my dad, but most of those chosen by Anubis (like you) don’t have to worry about dating etiquette in the afterlife. I’m not sure reapers have down time. I have a lot to learn, and it seems time is running out. I fear that I won’t know everything that I need to in order to defeat Set.

But that doesn’t really help you, does it?

I don’t know much about dating, having never really gotten a chance to really go out with my first sorta boyfriend, Rick—before he became a half-alive thrall thanks to my reaper meddling. And the next guy I picked is dead, so you know, way more than just emotionally unavailable.

I think the best advice is to stay away from people who complicate your life, or your death. Reaping souls is serious business, and though I’m a human, I know that reapers are not. They remember many things about being human, but when you’re looking at being an eternal guide for mortals, you’re not exactly worried about feelings.

That may explain why reapers go so hot and cold all the time. Maybe they don’t really feel, or they only ghosts of emotions … shadows of humanity, but nothing real. I wonder sometimes if reapers are just empty inside, they have no fear, but they have no joy, either.

Being a reaper has its perks (walking through walls, easy travelling via the Shallows, the ability to eat anything without gaining an ounce). It also has its downside.

So, what can I tell you about reaper relationships?

Just one thing: Don’t have any.

Loneliness is better than heartbreak.

“There is no gatekeeper between mortals and gods. The separation of the world of men from the world of deities is a purposeful cosmic construction. Reapers are the only ones who can safely seek passage in all planes of existence—and yet does not fully reside in any of them.”

~
Secret History of Reapers, Author Unknown

“What kind of soul do you have? One filled with love? One damaged by hate? Your soul is energy, and the energy you create, be it evil or good, will determine your next plane of existence. So the question remains: Where do you want to go after you die?”

~Her Holiness Isis, High Priestess of the Anubis Temple in Reno, Nevada

Chapter 13

I
BLOCKED THE uppercut aimed at my chin and landed a solid punch on the girl’s abdomen. She “oofed” and danced backward, her eyes narrowing as she tried to spot a weakness. I kept my gloved hands up, and studied her stance, trying to ferret out the same information about her.

Her name was Elisa. She was good.

I was better.

I had already won two other matches. If I won this one, I was a guaranteed contender for the
Kebechet
challenge.

Elisa had decided strike. Unfortunately for her, she swung wide and left her rib cage exposed. I knocked away her arm with my left hand and hit her hard with the right. She staggered sideways, and I executed a quick kick that drove her down to her knees.

We were both panting hard. Sweat drenched my hair and rolled down my face. Elisa was trying to get her breath back. The color had leached from her face, but she still looked determined to get up. I kicked again, landing a second blow her ribs. She groaned, and fell to the mat. If this was real combat, then I would do everything possible knockout my enemy, or kill him. But since this was only a competition, once our opponent was on the floor we were not allowed to inflict any further damage. I moved back, and waited. Elisa rolled to her hands and knees and tried to get to her feet. But her knees buckled and she fell forward, releasing a screech of pain.

There was no crying in reaper school.

The referee knelt next to Elisa, and counted to 10. He rose to his feet, and pointed at me. “Molly is the winner,” he declared.

A medical technician rushed across the mat and began checking on Elisa. “Her ribs are bruised,” he said. “Let’s get her transported.” He waved toward another uniformed med tech rolled an ambulance cot toward them.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked.

“She’ll live,” he said. Then he turned his full attention to securing Elisa.

I turned away, and used my teeth to pick at the knot on my laces.

“Don’t do it like that.”

Startled at the nearness of the male voice, I looked up and saw Rath standing in front of me. He produced a towel and wiped off my face. Something about the gesture struck me as intimate—and I stepped back. Hurt still burned liked an ember in my chest.

“What are you doing here?”

He ignored my tone. “Watching you. You did great.”

“Thanks … only someone else had to get hurt for me to win.”

“You’ll have to get over that, Molly. When it comes to real fighting, your opponent will be trying to kill you.”

“No mercy,” I uttered. “Right.”
Irina/Anput’s oft-repeated advice clung to me like a bad smell: Be merciless. Got it. Leave emotions out of fighting. Empathy will cause hesitation, and hesitation is a weakness easily exploited.

Rath loosened the knots on the laces and then helped me remove the boxing gloves. “You’re in,” he said. “All you have to do is win the official title of
Kebechet
.”

“Yeah. No problem.”
Naturally, Clarissa had won the other two matches, which meant we were the two top picks for the final challenges. But I’d always known that was what would happen, right?

I took the gloves from
Rath. “Thanks.”

I wasn’t sure where I stood with Rath anymore. After our mind-blowing make-out session last night, he’d
gone cold on me, and yet here he stood, like nothing had happened. I was tired, hot, grumpy, and starving. I certainly didn’t want to deal with a moody reaper—no matter how cute he was in those black jeans.

I wanted to go take a quick shower in the girl’s facilities, and then go home. Not only was I supposed to return to school tomorrow, but also my grandparents had enrolled
Ally into Nekyia, too. I refused to take that as a sign that they believed my dad would be sick for a long time—or not around at all to take care of my little sister. In any case, what did my family have in Vegas now? The house had been trashed, the Zomporium was burned to the ground, and they were in danger until … well, until whenever.

“You sure about tonight?” Rath asked.

I dismissed my thoughts and glanced at Rath. Barbie had texted all of us that she knew how to break Aunt Lelia’s binding spell, and we should be prepared to perform the ritual. We decided that meeting at my grandparent’s house probably wasn’t a good idea if we were going to deal with
sheuts
. So, we decided to take a trip into the woods near Nekyia, where Barbie knew of a clearing deep enough in the forest to keep us from alerting anyone at the school about our dangerous endeavor.

“I’m very sure,” I said with a confidence I didn’t feel. “But it’s okay if you don’t want to show.”

He grimaced, and I swear hurt flashed in his eyes before he looked away. “I’ll be there,” he said.

“Cool. See you later.” I walked past Rath, trying very hard not to think about the way he had kissed me last night, about the way he made me feel. The confusion he caused made me feel uneasy. Anger surged, and erased the stomach-squeezing butterflies Rath’s presence always produced.

Damn it. I wasn’t some yo-yo that he could yank around until he got bored and walked away.

“Molly?”

I paused, schooled my features, and looked over my shoulder. I tried for nonchalance. “Yeah?’

He opened his mouth, took a look at my expression, and then shook his head. “Never mind.”

Men! I didn’t bother saying good-bye again. I took off, practically into a run. I needed a hot shower and cold beverage—and a distraction from thinking about Rath.

It turned out that the distraction was none other than Clarissa, who had won her matches earlier in the day. I’d expected she would. Although she sucked as a person, she was an excellent fighter and necromancer. Not that I would ever admit that to her.

The gym facilities for the members of the Necros Society AKA the Chosen, were far superior to that of Nekyia Academy. We’re talking marble floors, glossy black athletic lockers, steam showers, saunas … you get the idea.

Clarissa leaned against the locker next to mine. When she saw me striding toward her, she straightened.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Hello to you, too,” she said.

I twirled the combination on the lock and snapped it open. Clarissa put her hand against the locker before I could open it.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“About what?”

“I didn’t put the soul box in your room, okay?”

“Oh, really? You’re the only one who could’ve done it. You were in the alleyway. You saw me take the soul from the old lady.”

She blanched. “Yeah, okay. I saw what you did. But I didn’t know about the soul box. Not until you accused my dad of trying to hurt you.” She returned to leaning aga
inst the locker and crossed her arms.“I’ve worked really hard to be chosen as the
Kebechet
. I wouldn’t jeopardize that by trying to cheat.”

“Taking
me out the competition would almost guarantee you were named the champion.”

“If I can’t win on my own, then I don’t deserve the title.” She pushed away from the lockers and faced me. “Look, I told my dad about you taking the soul. I didn’t know about the box. Apparently, he did some digging of his own and reported you to the school. I didn’t know he had tried to get you expelled.”

“Huh. It seems your daddy doesn’t think you can win on your own. How many other people has he sabotaged?”

“None,” she said through gritted teeth. “He’s been a little on edge since you came to Nekyia.”

“Why? I don’t even know your family.”

“Yeah, well, he knew yours. Your mother doesn’t have the greatest rep around here.”

“So what? At least she’s not sneaking around and finding ways to ice my competition.”

Clarissa narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need anybody’s help. I just wanted to square things. When I beat you in the
Kebechet
challenge, it’ll be because I’m better than you are.”

“And if I win?”

Clarissa snorted. “As if.” Then she whirled around, her blonde ponytail bouncing, and strode away, fists clenched.

Well, I’m glad we got
that
out of the way.

I shouldn’t be surprised that Mr. Jacobs knew my family. I mean, that would make sense, if he was a Legacy at the same time my mom and aunt went to the academy. What did he know about them? And why did I make him nervous about his daughter becoming champion?

Unless he knew …
whoa
.

Did Mr. Jacobs know that I was the real daughter of Anubis? If he did, that would explain why he wanted to keep me out of the competition. Honestly? Clarissa was probably more prepared to be
Kebechet
than I was. She’d been training since forever, devoting her life to one clear objective: become the champion of Anubis. Obviously, her father had his own agenda and whatever his beef with my family, it seemed to me he was more interested in winning than in doing what was best—and right—for the Chosen. Maybe I hadn’t been training since kindergarten to kick butt like Clarissa, but I did have the blood of Anubis. And I had drive, willpower, and pure stubbornness to push me through whatever obstacles lay ahead.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder: Would Clarissa be the better
Kebechet
?

Why would Clarissa want me to know she had nada to do with trying to oust me out of the
Kebechet
running? Was she really worried about her honor? I didn’t like to associate my enemy with anything noble or positive--because then it was difficult to hate someone who wasn’t all bad.

Sheesh.

“
DO YOU KNOW where you’re going?” I asked.

Rath,
Ally, and I were following Barbie through the dark woods. We all had flashlights, but Barbie’s bright beam was the one bouncing along the trees as we descended to the clearing.

“Is this a sacred space?” asked
Ally.

“No,” said Barbie. “A few years back, students smoking Wi
zard burned down this area. The school had the stumps removed and never replanted trees.”

“What’s W
izard?”

“Nothing you need to know about,
Ally,” I said, sending Barbie a watch-your-mouth look. Ally didn’t need to the details about the necro version of marijuana (weed laced with magic).

“I’m not a baby,” argued
Ally. “I prefer to be informed, no matter the topic.”

“Cool it, you two,” said Barbie. She offered Rath some candles. “Let’s get everything set up.”

It took about fifteen minutes for us to get everything ready. We’d created a large circle with evenly spaced lit black candles, which were then ringed by a thick line of rock salt. Rock salt had a negative effect on supernatural elements and would keep the
sheut
bound within our circle.

Or so Barbie said. Rath seemed to concur—at least about the salt thing.

Without the flashlights on, the only light came from the tiny flames of the candles, and the nearly full moon above us. It was a crisply cold night and the wind blew just enough to flicker the candlelight, but not enough to be a threat to our proceedings.

“Okay. Now what?” I asked.

“You and I stand in the middle of the circle. I’ll use my blood to enact the calling-forth spell. We won’t have much time. Once your aunt arrives, we have to work quickly to break the bond. I’ll need your blood—twice—to release her from Set.”

Rath and Ally stationed themselves outside of the circle. I felt their eyes zeroed in on me, especially the dark, worried gaze of Rath.
You sure about tonight?
His question echoed in my mind. I wasn’t sure. But one of the things I’d learned on this whole reaper journey was that action required faith. So, I stood where Barbie told me, focused on my breathing, and trusted that we were doing the right thing.

I stood still, waiting for directions. Barbie lifted her arms, closed her eyes, and started chanting. I didn’t understand the words, but the rhythm was ancient, primal.

Barbie started to sway.

Glittery black magic unfurled from her uplifted palms, and she opened her eyes
.
Barbie’
s
eyeballs were completely black, except for irises of glowing purple. My heart skipped a beat. I was afraid to move, afraid to say anything, lest I distract Barbie. Still, in the moonlit clearing, with a gaze born of the Underworld, my friend looked menacing and dangerous.

She withdrew a small silver blade from the satchel hanging from her side. She carved a thin line across her forearm, and I watched her blood well out of the wound and fall to the ground.

“I call forth Lelia Briarstock,” she said in what sounded like an ethereal blend of female voices. Her command echoed into the dark sky above us, and I swore that the moon trembled. Her tone held a hypnotic power—one that I could feel vibrating in my bones, and worming through me, like disease … like death. I had no idea that Barbie was such a powerful necromancer.