A Reaper Made (14 page)

“Why would you involve Allison in this?”
 

“I do not care for Allison. She’s a human caught in the crossfire,” he said. The flat tone might’ve convinced another, but I’d seen the spark at her name. “Collateral damage.”
 

“I don’t believe you. Call it a big sister thing,” I said, hearing the desperation in my voice, “you can act tough all you want, but your human is showing.”

He snarled at me, grabbing me by the throat. “You have it all wrong, you stupid Made.
You’re
what we needed. It’s why I chose Alison. I’ve been waiting for you.”
 

I waited for him to choke me; rather than squeezing, however, he met my hard gaze and whispered through tight lips, “I won’t let anyone take her soul.”
 

He let go of my neck and grabbed my arm again, breaking into a fast walk. He half-dragged me, saying nothing more as we stepped into the main arena.
 

We went through the small arched doorway, stopping at the top of a staircase. It overlooked a large area where some seriously bad juju was going on.
 

Brady’s strange magical swirls covered the walls and floors. Presumably trapped, six Reapers were laid out three in a row, a good bit of space between them. I didn’t know any of them, but somewhere in there were Roslyn, Michael, and Samuel. In between and around those spaces were souls. Wispy and faint, they flickered where they stood, like corralled cattle waiting for slaughter. I gasped at the amount of lost souls, my very being begging me to go and help them.
 

Brady gave me a knowing smile. “Go ahead. See if you’re any different.”
 

He let go of my arm and I realized I couldn’t teleport down to them. Ignoring that major problem, I bolted down the stairs two at a time. I didn’t know what they were doing here, but they were all in imperative danger if there were demons around. Demons consumed souls and I didn’t even want to think about how awful that must be in someone’s last moments.
 

I ran down to the floor, ignoring my surroundings and instead going straight to the nearest soul. He had been a younger man, maybe in his early thirties, and the desperation in his face made me reach for him.
 

“Save me,” he hissed under his breath. “Please, I…I didn’t want any of this.”
 

“Give me your hand,” I said, ready to help these souls move on.
 

He held out his arm and I froze when I saw it: a Reaper’s mark. When we couldn’t immediately convince a soul to pass over, we branded them with our mark, a red handprint that looked like a nasty burn. It held us responsible for them. If they refused, we could move on to other souls who needed us. The mark worked as a tracking device to find the stubborn souls later and try to convince them to move on. After three tries, the Reaper’s mark faded and that soul would become a spirit; entwined with this earth, his destiny changed to instead wander a world they could no longer live in. The problem was, once a soul was claimed, it was that Reaper’s responsibility until it was too late.
 

“I’m sorry,” I stammered, “I can’t help you. It’s impossible.”
 

This guy’s mark wasn’t the usual bright red, but more a pale pink. He would be a spirit soon, stuck down in this dank underground for the rest of eternity - unless a demon damned him. Panic showed in his eyes; maybe he didn’t know what would happen to him, but he seemed to know time was running out.
 

My head whipped to look at the other souls who stood with us, at the Reaper marks on their arms. With handprints on all their forearms, I couldn’t help any of them pass over. Most were newer, though I saw a few stricken expressions in the back. They didn’t even bother to show me their arms as they were spirits now. No hope lit from within; they knew their souls were damned. My heart broke for them. I turned on my heel to watch Brady chuckle as he walked down the stairs.
 

“They’re all claimed,” I said softly.
 

“Yep. Stuck in the in-between until their spirit is rooted or their Reaper helps them pass over,” he said, coming to a halt at the bottom of the steps. “Whichever comes first, but in this case, there are special circumstances.”
 

My eyes narrowed. “So what, you’ve got an abundance of demon snacks in your man cave?”
 

A few souls behind me gasped and shot worried looks at one another. I grimaced; maybe hinting at their death by dinner wasn’t a great idea.
 

Brady laughed as he walked over to me. “They’re not really what I’d call edible after about a week, and baby, these guys have been here longer than that.”
 

“Ew, stop that,” I said, my nose wrinkling. My sister’s boyfriend, never mind a crazed half-witch, was never allowed pet names. Then what he said clicked in my brain. “So what do you keep them around for?”
 

A voice above us caused me to turn and look up, to a shadow on the stairway. “They’re for my Ascension, you worthless Made.”
 

I gasped at the dark shape towering over us on the staircase. His face came into light and my stomach dropped. Alistair, Tully’s mentor and an elder Reaper, glared at me from above.
 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“What the hell, dude?” I blurted out.
 

“So eloquent,” Alistair replied. He glided down the stairs, golden eyes never leaving me.
 

“You—but why?” I stammered.
 

Brady placed his black-magic-covered hand back on my arm. Alistair walked over to us; when he neared, he gave the lost souls behind me a fond smile, like adopted kids he’d scooped up from the street. I could hardly believe the rather human expression. When he met my face, however, the pretense dropped, replaced with an ugly frown.
 

“I can’t believe Tully recruited
you
,” he said, disgusted.
 

Offended, I made a face at him. “Geez, what’d I do to you?”
 

He pointed a long finger at me. “There, that’s it.”
 

“
My face?
” My jaw dropped at the rudeness and he huffed.
 

“At the humanity, the emotions, those damned teenager expressions that infuriate parents and elders alike. The sarcasm that has befallen your culture in the last millennia is atrocious.”
 

I shrugged Brady’s hand off my arm. “You know, you sound like everybody’s grandpa. Maybe change is a good thing. Ever think of that?”
 

Alistair leaned over me, his overly large nose almost touching my forehead. “I happen to agree with you there.”
 

His rich baritone filled my ears and I swallowed a bark of laughter. I’d never met a villain, but this guy was as close to one as I ever saw in the movies. I blinked hard, willing myself to stay in the present threat.
 

“Meaning?”
 

Alistair snapped up, his posture stiff straight. “Meaning a change is just the thing I need for the rest of eternity.”
 

“Worst guessing game ever,” I muttered, “Jesus Christ—”

“Don’t say his name!” Alistair yelled at me, so suddenly I almost bit my tongue in surprise.
 

“Is it like Bloody Mary where you say his name three times and he appears? You think he’d help me out of this bind?” I said.
 

Alistair backhanded me, a blow that left my ears ringing. Pain seared through my face and I wondered if he’d broken my jaw or cracked a cheekbone. I hadn’t felt such hurt since dying; the realization frightened me and his face lit up with understanding.
 

“You didn’t know,” he said, his smile growing bigger, “you didn’t know we could feel true pain. Tully failed to tell you that part, eh?”
 

“Tully never expected me to get Reaper-napped,” I mumbled, struggling to focus back on the jerk in front of me.
 

“He probably pretended you were his daughter and decided he was acting out of love,” Alistair said, sneering. “His human emotions always made him weak. All Mades are weak.”
 

“I highly doubt Tully would treat his daughter the way he demands of me,” I said. I shoved Brady’s hand away. “Could you stop touching me now? I’m clearly not going anywhere.”
 

Brady huffed but dropped his arm, rolling his weight to either foot to give me a little space. I turned back to Alistair and got down to business. Enough of his Family Feud mind games.
 

“This is how certain Mades were taken, isn’t it? You already know everything about us, our families. You practically had a shopping list of prime Mades who would be willing to do anything to save their living blood.”
 

He said nothing, but I knew I was right. Alistair had chosen us for a reason, knew it would be easy to convince us to fall under his spell if it meant keeping our mothers and sisters alive. I threw out another question.
 

“What’s the deal with all these souls? Why are you keeping them down here if you’ve got Reapers?”
 

“Every piece has its purpose,” Alistair said. “Now that you’re here, we can begin. The rest will fall into place.”
 

“Oh good, I love riddles.”
 

“Humans,” Alistair sniffed, “with your sarcasm and disrespect. What a worthless race.”
 

My hands clenched into fists by my sides at his arrogance. “You don’t even know me. I’m helping souls just like you.”
 

“You are nothing like me,” he said, nostrils flaring. “I am a superior being in every way.”
 

“You really have a complex, don’t you?”
 

Alistair glared at me. “I think it’s time you met my demon. Maybe then you’ll be speechless. Moloch, I summon you!”
 

A growl emitted from the far tunnel on my left. Too dark to see, I only heard scrapes and scratches against the stone before the demon made itself known. The bulky shadow loomed in the doorway, entering before he did. Then the rest of him followed.
 

I didn’t dare let Alistair know it, but Moloch’s monstrous appearance actually did shock me. It was like a dinosaur demon from hell. Seven feet tall and covered in black and green scales, his highlighter yellow eyes bulged out of his head; he held up his hands, talon-like claws on the ends. It snarled and I saw rows of razor sharp teeth.
 

“Older, meaner frat brother?” I asked Brady, keeping my tone light, as though I were asking about a lunch menu.
 

Brady’s eyes narrowed but stayed on the reptilian demon. His fingers flexed by his sides. “Alistair, why is he here?”
 

Alistair sounded bored. “For the souls.”
 

Brady paled, his hands forming into fists by his sides. “You never said anything about a demon consuming souls. I help you get Reapers, you give me the power I need. That was the deal.”
 

Alistair stopped in his tracks to give Brady wide eyes. Anyone with half a brain could hear his blatant lie. “Your spell summoned him, witch. Do you or do you not want the power you were promised? Dark magic has its price.”
 

Brady’s upper lip curled. “I might’ve reconsidered the deal if I’d known you’d bring in a demon. Reapers are bad enough.”
 

I didn’t miss the split-second glare in my direction and I flipped him the bird. My eyes didn’t leave Moloch as his attention wavered between Alistair and the now panicking souls. With nowhere to go, they huddled together. Moloch’s lizard tongue flicked in and out of his gnarly mouth, perhaps his way of licking his chops in anticipation.
 

Despite the poor lighting, my eyes made out a dark shape sneaking up one of the room’s tunnel entrances. Red hair flashed in the yellow glare. My mentor had come for me. Hope dared to blossom and I kept my attention on Alistair.
 

He extinguished it in an instant.
 

“I knew you would come, Tully,” Alistair said, calling out to the shadows. His eyes never left mine and despair swept through me, a cold wind of fear up my spine. “You’re too human not to try and save her.”
 

Tully dashed all my hopes when he came out of the shadows. Brady’s muscles flexed, taut at the tension.
 

“I did not come because of her,” Tully said, never looking away from Alistair. “I came because what you are doing is wrong.”
 

Alistair sneered. “You underestimate me.”
 

“Why are you doing this?” Tully asked.
 

“Never you mind,” Alistair said. He waved Tully off, sneering at me. “Demon, prepare to kill the girl.”
 

Tully tensed, his hands curling into fists. Brady shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to the exits. It was obvious he didn’t want to stick around to watch. Moloch flexed his muscles, eager to attack. I glared at him for a total of six seconds before I had to look away, insides quaking with fear.
 

“Alistair,” Tully said, his tone half-pleading. “Why would you do this? After all these lifetimes?”
 

“You would not understand,” Alistair murmured back. The older Reaper glanced over his shoulder, back to where Tully stood. “Perhaps it is best you do, given our history. I suppose you’ve earned that much. Might as well know before you die.”
 

“Die?” I sputtered. Tully lifted a hand to silence me.
 

“Now that you’re down here with us, you shall be my seventh Made,” Alistair said to Tully.
 

I glanced at both of them in confusion. “So I’m free and clear?”
 

Alistair conjured a bag from nowhere, the black velvet casing appearing in his hand at will. I frowned; I didn’t know Reapers had that power. My attention focused, however, when Alistair pulled a handheld, lethal-looking scythe from the bag. Tully froze.