My Reaper's Daughter (14 page)

At the door, the Amazeen stepped smartly aside to let them pass but snaked out a

hand to take possession of Glyn’s arm. “
Kakos anēr makrobios
,” she said.

“Which means what?” Glyn challenged, shaking off her hold.

Penthe gave him a wicked grin. “A bad man lives long.” The smile faded and she

snapped to attention—eyes straight ahead and chin high. “Be a bad man, Kullen. Be a

very bad man as only you can and come back so I can wipe your scrawny ass on the

gymnasium floor.”

Glyn made a rude sound and snatched the door open but he was chuckling as he

and Kasid walked.

“That one is enamored of you, Glynnie,” Kasid suggested.

“Yeah,” the Reaper replied smugly. “I know. She can’t keep her slimy paws off

me.”

66

My Reaper’s Daughter

Chapter Six

The train chugged along at a fairly fast clip as Glyn lounged in the uncomfortable

seat, wishing for the personal train car that had been assigned to him but was at that

moment being refurbished. At least the seats in it were plush and better fit his rangy

length.

“This land is so beautiful,” Kasid remarked as he stared out the window. “There are

so many contrasts.” He looked around at Glyn. “Unlike my native world of relentless

sand and the occasional oasis. Even our oceans are small compared to the two on

Terra.”

“Terra actually has seven oceans,” Glyn told him, “but, like you, I’ve only seen

two.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Do you miss your homeworld?”

Kasid shook his head. “No, I do not. It was a brutal land filled with brutal people. I

feel this is my home now.”

“I know what you mean, although I find myself wishing I could go back to

Breathnóir if only for a visit.”

“Yet there would be no one left that you would know or who would know you,”

Kasid observed.

Glyn turned away, a sad expression settling on his face. “Aye, that’s true,” he

replied softly. He laid his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes.

“May I tell you something in confidence, Glynnie?”

“Sure,” Glyn said, and yawned widely. He was beginning to feel the effects of a

sleepless night and he was edging closer to the time of his Transition when sleep would

be nearly impossible.

Kasid took a deep breath. “I have received Lord Kheelan’s permission to court a

young woman who works in the kitchens of the Citadel.”

Surprised by that revelation, Glyn opened his eyes and swiveled his head toward

his fellow Reaper. “No shit,” he remarked.

Kasid’s head bobbed up and down. “Her name is Alexis and she is one of the

bakers.”

“Huh,” Glyn commented. “I think Lord Kheelan is starting to mellow in his

advancing years.”

A smile stretched his companion’s dark face. “I believe it is due mainly to the fact

that I have been assigned the Citadel as my protectorate. As Lord Naois observed, I can

be home most every night and do not have to venture far from my workplace.” He

frowned. “Well, unless it is a special occasion such as this.”

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“Well, congratulations,” Glyn said, reaching across the aisle to offer Kasid his hand.

“I hope you two will be happy together.”

“Thank you, Glynnie,” Kasid replied. He shook Kullen’s hand warrior style then

the two men settled back in their seats, both turning to look out the window at the

passing scenery.

Kasid’s admission depressed Glyn, and the more he dwelt on it, the more depressed

he became. The trees and brooks and bridges over and by which they passed became

nothing more than blurs as he stared into space. He thought of the woman he had been

engaged to marry all those many centuries ago then the lovely face of Mystery Butler

rose up to taunt him. He scrubbed a ruthless hand over his face to chase away that

haunting visage but the pretty countenance remained, the dark-chocolate eyes looking

back at him with accusation.

You just aren’t going to leave me alone, are you, wench?
he thought.

He didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad that he was headed into the Vircars

Territory and that he would be making a trip to Charlestown where Phelan Kiel was

stationed. Charlestown was a large city but there was no doubt in his mind that he’d

eventually run into Mystery and her adorable little girl. As a matter of fact, he intended

to make sure he did. He thought of the disappointment he’d seen on the child’s face,

remembered the disdain in her mother’s voice when last they spoke and the guilt made

his heart ache. If for no other reason than to set things right, ask apology for his actions,

he had to see them.

“You’re so full of it, Kullen,” he muttered.

“Beg pardon?” Kasid queried.

“Just talking to myself,” Glyn responded.

“I do that,” his fellow Reaper admitted.

Over the years Glyn had always been honest with himself if hedging a bit on the

truth with others. He knew what he was capable of doing as well as he knew his

failings. Lying to himself was not one of his many faults.

You’re going to seek her out because you need to
, a little voice in his head told him.

You’re going to go looking for her because you’ve made up your mind to court her.

Glyn shot up in the seat as though he’d been prodded in the ass by barbed wire.

“What’s wrong?” Kasid asked, his hand slapping to the leather at his hip.

“Holy motherfucking shit!” Glyn whispered.

“What?” Kasid repeated, and got to his feet with his six-shooter drawn.

Glyn looked up at his teammate. “I’m going to court that gods-be-damned

woman,” he said in a strangled voice.

Kasid’s eyes narrowed. “What woman?” he asked, and his fingers tensed on his

weapon. “Not
my
woman you won’t!”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Glyn said. “
My
woman.”

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My Reaper’s Daughter

The words struck deep inside Glyn Kullen and began to take root, to spread out, to

fill his heart. He realized he was actually trembling.

“You have a woman?” Kasid inquired as he holstered his gun.

“Aye,” Glyn said, awe making his voice unnaturally low. “I believe I do.”

“You don’t know?”

“Oh, I know, Kasid,” Glyn said, and was sure of the matter.

Kasid shrugged then resumed his seat. He cast the Breathnóirian an unsure look

before crossing an ankle over his knee to stare out the window again.

“I know,” Glyn repeated.

He yawned again and leaned over so the side of his head was against the cool

window glass. His gaze moved to the gravel speeding by below, and within a matter of

moments, his eyelids were drooping and he was lost in sleep.

“Don’t,
ben my chree
,” he whispered to her, gathering her into his arms, calling her

woman of his heart. “You shouldn’t shed tears for a man like me.”

“Then for who? I love you so much,” she told him as she clung to him. Her fingers dug into

his bare shoulder. “I want to be with you.”

“
Ta fys ayd c’wooad ta my ghraih ort,”
he whispered then repeated it in her language.

“You know how I love you.”

She tilted her head to look up at him. “Do I, Glynnie?” she asked. “Do I know or am I just

dreaming that you do?”

He cupped her head in his strong hand—that hand that wielded such deadly power—and

brought her lips to his, speaking against the softness.

“I can sense your dreams when I dream,” he whispered to her. “Or when I look into your

eyes. I know what you are thinking. Just hold on,
ben my chree
. I am coming to you.”

“Hurry, Glyn,” she urged him, and her hands began to roam over his back, down his arms

and along his waist. “I need you so much.”

Glyn groaned. “As I need you.”

He swept her away with him, taking her from her narrow bed and into the heavens, soaring

with her across the firmament until they came to a soft meadow filled with wildflowers. There he

laid her down, and with a sweep of his hand, their clothing was gone and he was lying beside her,

his lips tracing a devilish pathway down her neck and onto the lush mounds that beckoned him

to sample their fare.

She twisted her fingers in his hair and held his head to her as a mother would her child.

He suckled and licked and nibbled. His hands caressed her and found all the places upon her

writhing body that pleased her. He shifted over her, nudging her legs apart to settle between

them. His cock stabbed at the entrance to her sheath, begging entry.

“Glyn!” she cried out as he slid deep within her and her entire body shuddered around his

shaft, pulling him into her sweet, moist cavern…

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“Mystery!”

The one word caused Reaper Kasid Jaborn to bang his head against the window

beside him and he snapped his face toward Glyn Kullen, alarmed at the loud shout.

“What is it?” he asked then realized his teammate had been sleeping.

Glyn pulled his legs in and bent forward. “Mother of the goddess, I am…”

He didn’t finish for Jaborn took another closer look and realized Kullen was going

into Transition. His eyes widened and he shot out of his seat, looking wildly around

him.

“Too soon,” Glyn said, teeth chattering, eyes pulsing red. “It’s too soon!”

Kasid didn’t question the words. He rushed across the aisle, grabbed Glyn’s arm

and jerked him out of his seat, propelling him over his shoulder.

“Hang on,” was all Jaborn could say, and he sprinted down the aisle, flinging the

door at the front of the passenger car open. His long legs took him to one of the sleeping

cars and kicked the door open to hurry inside, dropping Glyn to a bunk. Without

another word, he backed out of the door then slammed it shut, pulling the handle

toward him, bellowing at the top of his lungs for the conductor.

James Gilroy had been a conductor on the Vircar-Flagala line for only six months.

He’d never seen a Reaper in his life before the two had climbed aboard his train and he

had gone out of his way to keep out of theirs. He was terrified of the lawmen and had

spent the last few hours huddled on the open deck between the passenger car and the

baggage car, the hot summer wind ruffling what was left of his thinning hair. When he

heard the Reaper shout, he nearly pissed his pants but he forced himself to go inside the

compartment.

“Come lock this fucking door!” the dark Reaper bellowed. “Hurry!”

A loud howl came from behind the door being held by the Reaper then mighty

thumps against the panels, shrieks as something was drawn down the wood.

“Hurry the gods-be-damn it!” the dark Reaper ordered.

James stumbled forward, fumbling for the brace of keys on the large ring attached

to his belt. His hands were shaking, and with every hideous noise coming from behind

the door, his eyes rolled in terror. He didn’t have to ask what was happening. Everyone

knew what Reapers did and knowing that one was on his train, yowling in Transition

was enough to make James faint.

Which he did before he could isolate the key to the sleeping compartment.

“Fuck!” Kasid barked. His booted feet were planted to either side of the door as he

used his full weight and strength to keep Kullen from jerking the portal open and

coming outside. When he heard glass break, he knew his teammate had launched

himself through the window.

“He did what?”
Lord Kheelan shouted.

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My Reaper’s Daughter

“He Transitioned, Your Grace,”
Kasid explained as he psychically communicated the

situation to the Citadel.
“He said it was too soon.”

There was a telling silence then Lord Dunham spoke.
“Don’t concern yourself about

him, Lord Kasid. He’ll follow the train. Unfortunately, this is not unprecedented. It has

happened several times now.”

“With Lord Owen last year—though that is understandable—but just within the last week

both Lords Cynyr and Bevyn out in Oklaks had it happen to them,”
Lord Naois added.

“And I want to know why this keeps happening!”
Lord Kheelan snarled
. “By the goddess,

I will find out why too! We can’t have you men Transitioning out of cycle!”

Kasid held his breath but no further communication came from the Citadel. He

finally released a long sigh then rubbed a hand over his face and plopped down in the

seat, a headache lashing the top of his head. He didn’t feel all that well himself but it

was much, much too soon for him to assume his wolf-like state. His last Transition had

been but two weeks prior. Transitions happened roughly every three months but if

other Reapers’ cycles had been thrown out of whack…

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a large black wolf running all out

beside the speeding train. He turned in his seat and watched the beast as its body

bunched and elongated, its paws digging into the ground.

“Can you hear me, Glyn?”
he sent to the beast, but the animal ignored him, never

breaking stride. The only thing Kasid heard was the wolf’s chuffing and grunts.

* * * * *

As he ran, Glyn Kullen kept pace with the passenger car. He could see Jaborn