My Reaper's Daughter (20 page)

“That would be just fine, milady,” Kasid agreed. “A cup of strong coffee would

most assuredly hit the spot.”

“I’ll put on a pot,” the woman said, and shooed her children toward their father,

wiping her hands on her apron as she set about preparing food for her guests.

The children hid behind their father and peeked at Glyn who was standing the

closest to them. When the Reaper smiled at them and winked, they giggled and moved

over to sit on the bottom bunk of their bed.

“You going down to see Lord Phelan then?” their father asked.

Glyn nodded. “Has he been around in the last few days?”

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The man—who introduced himself as John Carver and his wife as Lola—shook his

head. “Haven’t seen him in a month of Sundays. Heard tell there was some trouble

down that way. I guess you’re here to help out, eh?”

“Who told you there was trouble?” Kasid asked.

“A peddler man came by yesterday,” Lola Carver spoke up. “Johnny was over

helping Butch DeLyle with his roof when the man came by.”

“Tree went plumb through Butch’s roof and tore the biggest hole you’ve ever seen,”

John told them. “Near flooded his cabin it did.”

“What did the peddler tell you, milady?” Kasid pressed, not interested in Butch’s

problems.

“That there was folks turning up missing down that way and that there was a

murderer on the loose. Said Lord Phelan had his hands full trying to figure out where

the folk had gotten off to,” Lola answered.

“Didn’t he say something about animals being butchered?” her husband asked as

she set two bowls of soup on the table and motioned for the Reapers to sit.

“Aye, he did,” she agreed, wiping her hands on her apron. “Been finding cows and

sheep skinned right down to the bone he said.”

Kasid and Glyn exchanged a look as they took up their spoons and began ladling

soup into their mouths.

“Hope that don’t start happening around here,” John said. “It’s been darn quiet

since Lord Phelan took out that last bunch of rogues what passed through a summer

ago.”

“You think its rogues?” Glyn asked as he tore off a chunk of his sandwich and

dipped it into the bowl of hot soup.

“Don’t know what else to think, milord,” John replied. “Heard tell they go rabid

sometimes.”

“That has happened but it’s rare,” Kasid stated. “And rogues don’t strip the flesh

off their victims—animal or otherwise.”

“Have you had rabies around these parts?” Glyn questioned.

“Not in a good many years,” John answered.

“Then I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Just watch any strays very

carefully until you know for sure they aren’t infected. Keep your boys close to home.”

“I don’t let them out of my sight,” their mother stated.

Thunder boomed loudly and John reached for his slicker.

“I’m gonna go see to your horses, milords,” John said. “I’ll be putting them out in

the barn.”

“We would appreciate it,” Kasid said.

After Glyn and Kasid had eaten, the Carvers offered the lawmen the beds of their

sons to sleep in but the Reapers declined, preferring to spread their own bedrolls the

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farmer had brought in to them on the floor. They would be leaving at first light and

didn’t want to put their hosts out any more than they had to.

“I’ll fix you a big breakfast in the morning,” the wife said.

“No need to go to all the trouble, milady,” Glyn told her.

“It’s no trouble at all, milord. You do so much for us,” Lola Carver said. “It’s the

least we can do for you.”

When the lantern had been turned down and the Carvers in bed, the Reapers

unbuckled their six-shooters and laid them close at hand.

“Have you noticed that the attitudes of the people are starting to change toward us

of late?” Glyn asked Kasid as they settled down for the night.

“I’ve not been a Reaper that long, Glynnie,” Kasid said. “Were you treated so very

badly before?”

“Not badly, just differently. Women ran from us and men went out of their way to

walk across to the other side of the street when they saw us coming. Children hid like

we were boogiemen. We rode into a town and you could hear knees shaking. It just

seems like we’re being tolerated more. Used to, people wouldn’t even speak to us much

less carry on a conversation like these folks did while we ate.”

“Don’t fool yourself. The Carvers fear us, Glynnie,” Kasid said. “They are just

striving not to let that fear show.”

Glyn sighed. “You’re probably right.”

As he turned over on his side away from Jaborn, Glyn watched the light that still

flared at the windows. Though he was tired and his body ached from a day spent in the

saddle, he wasn’t sleepy. His active mind tumbled with thoughts ranging from the

misery of the wet weather to the trouble brewing in Kiel’s territory. It concerned him

that no one could reach Phelan.

But what had him the most troubled was the strange buzzing sounds he kept

hearing. Try as hard as he might, he could not distinguish anything other than the odd

clicking. It filled his head with an unpleasant fullness that was more annoying than

uncomfortable and it grated on his nerves.

“
Lord Kheelan?
” he sent softly.

There was no answer.

“Mo Regina?”

That call was not acknowledged either.

“Kiel?”

He hadn’t expected an answer and did not get one. He turned over, listening to

Jaborn snoring softly.

“Kasid?”

It was a strong, emphatic mental transmission but even with his teammate lying

less than two feet away, the communication went unacknowledged. He tried twice

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more, growing more alarmed with every slow, rhythmic breath his fellow Reaper took.

Even when he shouted Jaborn’s name as loudly as he could within his own mind, there

was absolutely no response.

“What’s happening to me?” Glyn whispered. His chest lurched with the confusion

and apprehension he was beginning to feel.

He sank beneath thick layers of an oppressive black mist that clung disturbingly to his flesh

as he waded knee-high through its shifting waves. The smell of sulfur was strong in his nostrils

and the vapors seemed to suck at his feet, striving to trap them in muck.

All around him was ebon darkness that shifted and flowed about him as he trudged, but in

the distance, he could see a pulsing reddish glow and toward that light he made his way. The

closer he came to it, the hotter he felt until salty sweat was dripping into his eyes.

“I’m in hell,” he said aloud, and his voice sounded hollow.

He became aware of the strange metallic sounds, the heavy thumps and the low scraping

noises at the same moment he heard the keening and groans of what he knew to be lost souls.

“Aye,” he said. “I am surely in hell.”

The stench was nearly unbearable the closer he came to the shifting, strobe-like red light.

Above him, the black mist was tinged with dark crimson undulations that resembled dull flame.

The images danced, writhed, intertwined upon the low, wavering ceiling of whatever abode it

was into which he’d been thrust and the shrieks of the damned grew louder with every slow,

laborious step he took.

“I’m scared, Glynnie.”

She was standing in the shadows—almost hidden behind the surging arms of black mist that

swirled around her. Shivering, her eyes wide, lips trembling, tears were falling down her cheeks.

“What are you doing here, milady?” he asked, his heart thudding painfully in his chest.

“You don’t belong in this evil place.” He put his hand out to her.

“I belong wherever you are, my love,” she said. Hand shaking, she reached for him.

From out of the depths of the soggy muck dragging at his boots, pithy tendrils shot up and

wrapped around his arm, drawing him back so his fingers only grazed hers, tingled at the brief

touch.

“No!” he cried out, and struggled to break free but the cloying vine was cutting off his

circulation, sinking into his flesh, working its way to the bone. It pulled him farther back from

his lady’s reach.

“Glyn!” she sobbed as the mist swirled around and around her, turning the white gown she

wore to gray where it touched.

“Go, milady!” Glyn ordered her. “Leave this vileness and don’t look back!”

Her arms were outstretched toward him, her hands questing, fingers arching. Around her

shapes flitted like demonic will-o’-the-wisps and her sobbing grew louder, more wretched.

“I need you!” she shouted at him over the moaning of condemned souls and the eerie clank of

chains, the stamp of listless feet.

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“Leave me,” he told her. “I belong here.”

The creeper that was twining around and around his arm spread to his chest, his waist and

lapped at his legs. One insidious shoot dipped between his legs to caress him obscenely, stroking

him through the leather of his pants.

“Does that please you, Reaper?” a low, grating voice whispered in his ears.

Glyn shook his head to rid it of the sickeningly vulgar thoughts that suddenly invaded his

brain. The images brought hot bile to his throat and he gagged, stumbling within the unrelenting

hold of whatever was keeping him hostage.

“Would you prefer to have the woman’s tongue licking along your cock, slipping into that

sweet orifice that even now tingles at the thought or such pleasures?”

Every nerve ending in his body strummed as those words wound their way into his libido.

“She’s there, Reaper,” the insidious voice whispered.

Glyn felt an unseen hand grip his chin and force his head around. He saw her standing only

inches away, her soft brown eyes glazed with terror.

“She is yours for the taking,” the voice tempted. “Put your hands upon her. Drag her down

and rip into her body with all the lust building within you.”

He wanted to so badly he ached from the need. His palms became slick with sweat. His cock

twitched and oozed.

“Take her roughly,” the voice demanded. “Hurt her with the dark desires you yearn to set

free.”

His mouth watered from the sheer intensity of the need growing inside him. His cock stirred,

flexed, strained at his pants. The hardness was a hot craving that burned.

“Look at her breasts.”

Gone was the white gown. She stood there naked before him with her arms crossed

protectively over the lush mounds that drew his gaze like magnets.

“Look to the valley between her legs.”

One of her hands was pressed over the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs as she made

soft, keening sounds of fright and humiliation.

“You want to bite her, claw her,” the voice cooed hotly against his cheek. “You want to sink

your teeth into those tender globes, run your nails down her flawless flesh. You want to stab

your shaft deep into her sheath until she screams in agony.”

“No!” he swore, shaking his head savagely. “I don’t want that!”

“Aye, but you do, Reaper,” the voice disagreed. “You want to rape her, ravish her, bend her

to your will.”

Glyn threw back his head and bellowed, “I love her!”

The vines holding him trembled and then shattered, broke apart and fell into the muck at his

feet so he stumbled forward, barely keeping himself from crashing to the ground.

“Beloved!” she cried out to him, and he swept her into his arms, her quivering body pressed

tightly to his.

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He held her to him—protectively, gently, guarding her with his life. Around them the

keening grew louder and the heat spiraled higher. The suffocating fumes of the sulfur made it

hard to draw breath.

“You came for me,” she said, clinging to him.

“I will always come for you,” he swore.

“I was so frightened.”

“I’m here now. I will take you from this…” he started to say.

Intense, crippling hunger suddenly blasted its way through Glyn Kullen and his knees

buckled, driving him downward, carrying her with him. His veins itched with pure,

unadulterated lust that spread quickly through his cock. His body craved hers so brutally he fell

on her, over her, thrusting her legs wide as he positioned himself between them. His hands

molded around her bare breasts and he lowered his head, his mouth taking a nipple so brutally

she cried out and grabbed handfuls of his hair to stay his assault.

“Glyn, please don’t!” she begged, but he was mindless to her protest.

He writhed atop her, his straining cock trying to burst through the supple leather to enter

her. His teeth nipped her sensitive flesh and he drew that hard little pebble deep into his mouth,

suckling hard, dragging his tongue over and over it.

“She is yours,” that hateful voice told him. “Take her. Hurt her!”