Dark Alpha's Awakening--A Reaper Novel Read online

  “It’s Xaneth.”

  “I’ll take a piece of him,” Aisling stated, her eyes flashing with ire. “After what he did to us, it’s the least he deserves.”

  Bradach crossed his arms over his chest. “I agree with Aisling. Besides, I’d love to shove my fist in that wanker’s face.”

  “What did he say?” Daire asked.

  Erith looked around at the Reapers. “He said that I’m going to want to talk to him.”

  “It’s a trap,” Neve said.

  Dubhan twisted his lips. “It could be, but it might not be.”

  “You’re not going,” Fintan stated.

  Erith cut her eyes to him. While she liked when Cael became dominant, she didn’t like it when the others did. “Since when do you tell me what to do?”

  “Since Cael isn’t here,” the white-haired Reaper said. “That’s exactly what he’d tell you. And, like the others have already stated, it could be a trap. We need you.”

  “And I need you,” she argued.

  Eoghan shook his head. “Fintan’s right. I’m going instead.”

  “You?” Kyran repeated in astonishment before shaking his head. “I’ll go.”

  Erith held Kyran’s gaze, knowing that he would want to stop off and see River.

  Rordan held up his hands at Kyran’s words. “Whoa. Hold up there. Your group might have been first, but we’ve already dealt with Xaneth. We’ll be doing it again.”

  “Enough,” Erith stated, quieting them all. She blew out a breath. “Talin, you and Cathal accompany me to meet Xaneth. If, for even a minute, I think he’s betraying us, he dies.”

  “Finally,” Cathal said with a grin.

  Talin gave a nod. “Understood.”

  “You shouldn’t go,” Eoghan said to her.

  Fintan shook his head, his lips pinched. “Nay, you shouldn’t.”

  Erith couldn’t be angry about their concern. “I’ve stayed in the shadows for too long. I began this mess. I’m the one who decided to imprison Bran instead of taking his life. This is all on me. And I’m going to fix it.”

  She pivoted and walked through the forest to the Fae doorway, Cathal and Talin on her heels. When she reached the door, she turned her head to the side and said, “Be prepared for the worst. I’m going to be veiled, but know that if it is a trap, I won’t let Bran take you.”

  “I say let him try,” Cathal said with a smile as his sword appeared.

  Talin held out his hand, a blade materializing in his palm. He exchanged a look with Death, then said, “I’m ready.”

  Erith took a deep breath and released it before she began the long trip from one doorway to the next back to Earth. She led Talin and Cathal to a Fae doorway inside Edinburgh Castle. Before they stepped through, she veiled herself.

  Her eyes scanned the room, but she found no one—veiled or otherwise—with Xaneth. The Light Fae was lying on his side on a table, his head propped up on his hand. The fingers of his other hand stopped in the middle of drumming on the tabletop when he spotted them.

  He sat up and swung his legs over the side with his hands braced beside him. Xaneth glanced at the rug and said, “She didn’t come.”

  “What did you expect?” Cathal asked with a sneer.

  Xaneth jumped from the table to his feet. “Take me to her.”

  “Not happening,” Talin stated. “You tell us what you have, and we’ll bring it to her.”

  Xaneth eyed him in puzzlement. “Do I look like an idiot?”

  “Aye,” Cathal replied.

  “I’m not,” Xaneth said over him. “What I have is for Death only.”

  Talin walked to stand in front of Xaneth. “You’re lucky she even sent us. After you sided with Bran, I should kill you where you stand.”

  Xaneth held out his arms to his sides. “Do it then.”

  Erith watched everything unfold with interest. She wanted to believe Xaneth, but was it because she saw something in him, or because she didn’t want to be wrong about anyone else?

  “There’s nothing I’d like better,” Cathal said. “Trust me on that. The thing is, we have orders to get whatever you have.”

  Talin moved a foot behind Cathal and adjusted his grip on his sword. “We were also told that if, at any time, we think this is a trap, we should kill you.”

  A folded sheet of paper appeared in Xaneth’s hand. He held it up by two fingers. “This isn’t a trap. I have information about Cael, as well as Usaeil’s visit with Bran. And, I have this.”

  No one ever got anywhere by being cautious. As Mistress of War, Erith would’ve appeared on her own, not veiled with two of her men. While the others had been talking, she’d extended her magic and searched for any Fae.

  Xaneth hadn’t lied. He was alone.

  Erith dropped her veil and moved between her Reapers. She put a hand on each of them, and, as one, they backed up several steps and lowered their swords.

  Xaneth swallowed nervously as he dropped his arms. “I know what you offered me before. I didn’t take it because I did what I always do, I thought of myself. But when I went to the Dark Palace, I had a chat with Balladyn. He reminded me that we made a deal. I promised him that I’d find out how Bran was taking the Dark.”

  Erith lowered her head, knowing full well why Xaneth had sought out Balladyn’s help. She decided to remain silent and see what else the Fae had to say.

  Xaneth shifted his feet as he caught her gaze with his silver eyes. “I got into Bran’s army, but it was . . . nothing like what I thought. I got a glimpse of what he’s going to do to this world, and the Fae in general if he takes over. Since I was already spying for Balladyn, I decided to spy for you, as well.”

  “I didn’t ask that of you,” she said.

  “I know,” he hurried to say. “But I also know that you need all the help you can get. Even if it is only me.”

  Erith cocked her head to the side. “Do you think so little of your worth?”

  “I know what I am,” Xaneth replied. “I know full well what I’ve had to do to survive and remain in the shadows so Usaeil couldn’t find me. I did it because I vowed to avenge my family.”

  Erith glanced at the paper in his hands, but she didn’t ask what it was. Instead, she wanted to know something else. “What do you know of Cael?”

  Xaneth visibly cringed at the sound of the Fae’s name. “He needs to be freed. Soon.”

  “What did they do to him?” Talin demanded, anger in every syllable.

  When Xaneth didn’t immediately answer, Erith ordered, “Tell me now.”

  “Bran used the purple orb of magic on him, twice. Once on his midsection after Cael was taken. The second . . . on the side of his head and face when he refused to call for you,” Xaneth said, unable to meet their gazes.

  Erith’s heart dropped to her feet. Fury and fear mixed within her to create an emotion she couldn’t name and had never felt before. She didn’t know whether to fight or cry. But she knew one thing—she was going to get Cael. “What did it do?”

  “I don’t know. Cael isn’t healing. Bran said the pain would continue to get worse until he was begging to give Bran whatever he wanted.”

  Tears pricked her eyes, but she hastily blinked them away. Now wasn’t the time to show weakness. If Cael could endure all of that, then she could stomach listening to—and imagining—all he had been put through. “Cael won’t break.”

  “He’s fighting it,” Xaneth said with a twist of his lips. “No doubt about that. I don’t know anyone else who could have done it. But he’s in agony. I’m not sure how much longer he can last.”

  Erith fisted her hands to keep herself from turning away. As Mistress of War, she wouldn’t flinch and worry. She would act. And she was about to do just that. “Do you know where they’re keeping him?”

  “Behind the mansion. There is that same type of magic Bran used to trap Talin, Neve, and Cael earlier. It’s not just around the building, it’s holding Cael against the wall.”

  Erith could feel the r
age building within the two Reapers with her. She understood their anger because she felt it, as well. “What else do you have for me?”

  Xaneth’s lips flattened. “I think Usaeil and Bran have aligned. I couldn’t hear what was said, but both looked very pleased by the end of the meeting.”

  “You saw it?” Cathal asked.

  “Bran purposefully left the door open. He wanted the Dark to see Usaeil come to him,” Xaneth told them.

  Talin squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Bloody hell.”

  “That information is very useful,” Erith said. She kept her gaze off the paper, wanting to let him bring it up. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

  “That isn’t all I have.” Xaneth glanced down at his hand before holding out the paper. “I don’t know if this will help. Bran had it shielded on his desk, but he touched it often while he was talking to Usaeil.”

  “Did you look at it?” Cathal demanded.

  Xaneth shook his head.

  Cathal gave a bark of laughter. “Like I believe that.”

  Erith reached for the weathered paper. It was old, very old, and there was something about it that looked familiar. She took it and started to unfold it, noting the burned edges. Before she opened it all the way, she knew exactly what it was.

  A page from her journal. The same diary she had burned.

  Her knees began to buckle. It was Xaneth who got her into a chair as she stared at the page and her own drawing of herself. Her vision blurred with tears as she read the words she had written so long ago.

  It was the silence in the room that broke through her anguish. She sniffed and lifted her head to find the three men standing before her, looking anywhere but at her.

  “You saved me,” she told Xaneth.

  The corners of the Fae’s silver eyes crinkled in a grin that quickly faded. “Is that how Bran’s been stealing your magic?”

  “I believe so.” She held the drawing out to Talin, who hesitated before taking it.

  He read over the page before looking at her. “Your writing?”

  Cathal leaned over Talin’s shoulder and read. “It’s long been said the pen is mightier than the sword.”

  “A person’s own words about themselves hold a special kind of power, far greater than any magic I have,” she explained. “I knew that, so when I cast off being the Mistress of War, I burned my journal. I knew when I reached the end of it and hated what I was that it was time to do something. I destroyed that. Partly to try and forget, and partly because I feared the book ever falling into the wrong hands.”

  “Then how did Bran get a page?” Talin asked.

  Erith shrugged. “I wish I knew. I didn’t watch it burn, but then again, I didn’t think anyone was there with me. A mistake I keenly regret.”

  “What if Bran has more pages?” Xaneth said.

  Cathal blew out a breath. “Shite. That could be a problem.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” Erith said and got to her feet. “It’s time to go.”

  Talin and Cathal immediately turned to follow her. When she reached the Fae doorway, she looked back to find Xaneth staring out the castle window to the city below.

  “Aren’t you coming?” she asked.

  Xaneth turned to look at her. “I’m not a Reaper.”

  “If you stay on this realm, Bran will find you, and he’ll tear you to pieces.”

  “Maybe.”

  Cathal shot him an irritated look. “Don’t be an arse.”

  Erith tried again. “You’ve helped me. That makes you one of my army. Unless you want out altogether.”

  “No,” Xaneth said with a quick shake of his head. “I definitely want to fight Bran.”

  “Then you’d better come with us.”

  Xaneth strode to them but stopped and said, “I almost forgot. When I went for the paper, there was a Dark there trying to get to it.”

  Erith’s heart sped up excitedly. “Who?”

  “Seamus.”

  She smiled, happy knowing that she hadn’t been wrong about him. “I knew he wouldn’t betray me.”

  “He told me to bring it to you. He said he served you and always would. I barely got out before Bran returned to his office.”

  Erith’s smile died as she realized that Xaneth was telling her that Seamus might very well be dead. She put a hand on Xaneth’s arm. “Thank you. When we go for Cael, we’ll also go for Seamus.”

  It was Cathal who led them through the doorway this time. Erith was next, with Xaneth and then Talin bringing up the rear. It was nice to have Xaneth with them, and she wished she could tell Cael that they had another ally. And that his vision had been right.

  Soon, she would be able to hold him again. To kiss and touch him.

  To tell him of her love.

  If you’re not too late.

  She ignored her thoughts and concentrated on knowing that Xaneth may very well have brought her the item that had allowed Bran to take her magic and her essence.

  As soon as she was sure, she’d be able to face Bran on the battlefield and end this nonsense once and for all.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  His limbs were tangled with Erith’s as they lay upon her bed, spent from hours of lovemaking. Cael smiled, utterly content.

  The grin wavered as a twinge of pain developed. It grew, the stinging sensation expanding until it wracked his entire body. Cael opened his eyes to find Erith looking at him.

  He wanted to ask for her help, but the words wouldn’t form. Concern filled her lavender depths. She rested a hand against his cheek and whispered something that he couldn’t make out. Then, her image began to fade.

  Cael grabbed hold of her, trying with all his might to keep her with him. If she stayed, he could handle any amount of torture, any pain. If only he had her.

  Erith evaporated into mist that leached through his fingers, floating upon the air to disappear entirely. He wanted to follow, to find her and hold her once more. It was pain that had turned into a storm of agony that kept him immobile—that kept him locked in unimaginable torment.

  The wrongness of the entire situation made wrath swell inside him like a tsunami. He bellowed against the injustice, against the Fates or gods or whoever tried to keep him from Erith.

  While he raged like a madman inside his head, still unable to move, he realized that none of it was real. It was just a dream.

  His anger vanished, replaced by a soul-sucking sadness that made his fury turn to despondency. Cael had lost himself in his mind to get away from the pain, but the agony followed him even to his happiest memories, twisting and warping them so that he had nowhere left to go.

  There was only the relentless, merciless throbbing.

  Gradually, Cael became aware that he was no longer alone in his prison. He wanted to revert back to his memories, but he remembered that he was a Reaper. He served Death, and until his last breath left his body, he would continue to gather information for her. One way or another, he would get Erith what she needed to beat Bran.

  Cael focused on the words, picking out two distinct voices. Male and female. Bran’s laugh made Cael want to lash out at the ex-Reaper, but it was the woman’s voice that made his blood turn to ice.

  Usaeil.

  His entire focus centered on the duo until their words became clear.

  “I’m telling you,” Usaeil said, “this isn’t the Reaper who was in my chamber.”

  Bran blew out a breath. “There are seven Reapers in all. This is only one of them, but he is the leader.”

  “The one I spoke to had an authoritative air about him.”

  “They all have that,” Bran said with a snort.

  There was a brief pause before the queen demanded, “I want to see his eyes.”

  “His eyes?” Bran asked in confusion. “Why?”

  “Because the one I spoke with didn’t have regular Light eyes. There was no pupil. In fact, his eyes looked like liquid silver.”

  Cael bit back a yell
when Bran’s fingers clamped on his injured jaw and jerked his head up. “Open your eyes.”

  Cael grinned despite the pain and lifted his lids to stare at Bran. “You know my eyes.”

  “But the queen needs to see them.”

  Usaeil walked closer, her gaze narrowed as she looked him over. “No. That’s not the one I talked to.”

  Bran’s lips twisted in anger as he yanked his hand away. “It doesn’t matter who it was. They’re all going to die.”

  “No one breaks through the spells and wards in my castle, in my chambers,” Usaeil stated petulantly, “and gets away with it. I’m going to gut this Reaper.”

  “If he was a Reaper,” Cael said, taking in Usaeil’s all-white ensemble. She tried to hide what she really was with clothes and glamour, but he knew the truth.

  The silence that followed his statement made Cael inwardly do a little jig. If he couldn’t fight Bran, he could at least make things difficult. And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

  In a blink, Bran was back before him. He yanked on what remained of Cael’s hair and lifted his head, causing pain to cut through him. “Are you calling the queen a liar?” Bran asked.

  Cael slid his gaze to Usaeil. “If the shoe fits.”

  He was prepared for the orb of magic that Usaeil slammed into his stomach, doubling him over. Seeing the anger that tightened her features was worth the pain. A punch in his jaw from Bran quickly followed the queen’s magic.

  “Who did you send to the Light Castle?” Bran questioned.

  Cael looked his way and smiled through the blood that filled his mouth. “No one.”

  “He’s lying,” Usaeil replied.

  Bran’s nostrils flared, his gaze never leaving Cael. “He’ll protect his Reapers to the very end.”

  Cael let them talk. Inside, he was smiling. Bran still didn’t know about Eoghan, and that meant that advantage was still in place. If only Cael could let the others know that. If they found out that Usaeil was with Bran, they might assume that she knew who Eoghan was and tell him.

  Cael’s thoughts halted when Usaeil spoke.

  “I’m going to send my Hunters out for my nephew,” she said. “It’s long past time that the final member of my family is wiped away. You might want to be on the lookout for him. He uses glamour to appear as a Dark, but worse yet, he worked with the Reapers.”