Reap & Repent (30 page)

Kicking at it with the toe of his boot, he pushed it onto a nearby rug, which he rolled up with the remains encased inside like a giant stuffed sausage. Scooping it up, he carried it to the balcony and stared down into the red fog below. As he tossed the macabre bundle into the abyss, he hoped it hit something important on the way down.

Nothing happened. No fireworks, no wailing or gnashing of teeth, no alarms. All it did was tumble silently through the gloom until it disappeared from sight. He never heard it hit. It may have fallen for an eternity as far as he knew. He was startled by the sound of someone clapping behind him.

“Nicely done,” Camael praised, leaning over the edge of the balcony to look below. “I never liked that one much anyway. Always trouble. A real bleeding heart.”

Camael turned and walked back into the living area. “Did you like her shell, though? I made it special for you. I do aim to please—let it never be said otherwise.” He lowered himself onto the couch and kicked his heels up onto the coffee table. “I am a little upset about the rug, however. It really pulled the room together,” he said, laughing fiendishly.

Deacon wasn’t in a laughing mood. At all. “How much longer can I expect to be held here?”

“Oh, that’s entirely up to you, my friend. You are free to go as soon as I feel that you are firmly devoted to my cause. Free will is such a bitch. It would be so much easier if I could
make
you want to work with me, but of course it has to be your choice. That was the biggest mistake he ever made. Trust me, I’ve reminded him more than once.”

Deacon wondered what would happen if he plunged his shiv into the fallen angel. He had a pretty good idea that he’d be the next one to fly off the balcony if he tried, but the idea was so…tempting. He shook his head. Was this another temptation? Killing or not killing Camael? He had no idea what was even real
anymore. The thought niggled at him as Camael rambled on about wars, legions, battles and choosing sides.

“Are you even listening to me, or am I wasting my breath here? I have things to do, souls to plunder and torture. In fact, you could assist me with some of that. Be my right-hand man as it were. Get out of here for a while and see the sights. Yes?” he asked, dusting couch lint off the legs of his black pants. “A trial run?”

“No, thanks.” Deacon balled his hands into fists and fought the urge to catapult his body across the coffee table and bury his knife into Camael. He was pretty sure that any attempt against him would only piss him off. Deacon held his ground and tried to hold his tongue, as well. Less talking usually meant less trouble.

“Really? Not even a day trip? You know, I could flash you there like I did here. But I have a feeling you would only be a burden to me. I see that you’re going to need more motivation. Perhaps a few more days of solitary confinement will do the trick? Enjoy.”

And Camael was gone. No slow fade, just gone. The slight smell of sulfur lingered near the couch where he’d been sitting. Solitary confinement was fine by Deacon. He didn’t want or need any more visitors. What he needed was time to think and to build up his strength. The demon slaying had left him feeling strong, but with a few hours of sleep and some peace and quiet, he would be a new man.

And then the screaming began.

* * *

As Ruth slowly regained her senses, she opened her eyes and puzzled at the unfamiliar jawline that was so not Deacon’s. It took her brain several clicks to catch up—she was in
Nate’s
arms—and then she immediately looked over at Kylen. She gasped. His eyes were open, and they were glowing with the green healing energy she had forced into him.

Nate let her feet ease to the floor. Her knees nearly buckled, but his firm hold around her waist kept her upright. She reached for Kylen, whose eyes were wide and wild with confusion. Nate pulled a chair under Ruth, and she sat, keeping her own eyes glued to the reaper with the glowing green eyes. When Nate reached for Kylen’s chest bandages, Kylen flinched.

Raising his palms in a gesture of submission, Nate said, “I’m not going to hurt you, man. I need to take a look.”

“Kylen, Nate has been caring for you. We both have. You’re safe here. We are protected.”

Kylen looked from Ruth to Nate, studying them for a long moment, and then gave the slightest nod of consent. Nate reached for the bandage again and peeled it off. The edges of Kylen’s skin, where the tape had adhered, looked angry and raw, but the wound itself had knitted itself back together. A jagged pink scar that cut down his body from stem to stern was all that was left.

“Jesus.” Nate removed the rest of the bandages that covered Kylen’s chest and neck and torso. All of the wounds had healed to scars. He was obviously shocked by what he saw, and his eyes went even larger as the tape irritations vanished in front of them.

Ruth beamed. She knew that they could do it. Together their powers were so much stronger than they were individually. Maybe Nate wouldn’t doubt their abilities anymore.

If Kylen was still
Kylen,
whoever he had been before his possession, maybe they’d have a snowball’s chance of finding Deacon.

* * *

Kylen raised a tentative hand to his chest and searched the rutted scar with his fingers and eyes, surveying the damage that had rendered him comatose. He reached to his neck and ran his smooth palm down his ragged throat. Healed? How could it be?

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out. He recognized the woman as Deacon’s woman, Ruth, but the man? A complete stranger. He didn’t even have a guess.

He could feel a circle of protection humming with power around the house, and he could sense that the house was consecrated. For a brief moment, he considered flashing away, but where to? He had no idea what awaited him outside this house. Was the demon biding his time, waiting to claim him again? Cold terror filled him at the thought. He’d die before he’d let it take him again. At least then, perhaps, he could be with Kara.

His mind was full to bursting with questions, but unless these two attempted to do him harm, he’d stay put. He felt…good, actually, but he had no delusions about how he would fare in a fight…naked and without weapons. He was helpless.

The thin blanket that covered him was not enough of a barrier between him and these two strangers. He looked from one of them to the other, and back again. The concern on their faces seemed sincere, but he couldn’t imagine how it could be considering the fact that he meant nothing to them. They couldn’t even know what he was, or had been, could they? His stomach growled long and low.

Ruth giggled. “Sounds like he’s a lot better if he’s that hungry. Nate, can you remove those IVs so that we can get him some real food?”

Nate nodded and went to work on the IVs while the woman hurried off to the kitchen with more than a skip in her step. Kylen didn’t resist Nate’s attentions. He was more than happy to have the wretched needles out of his body. The skin healed over as the needles were withdrawn. Nate gathered up the remaining bandages, flipping off the monitors.

Kylen tried to form words three times before his voice obeyed him. “Clothes?”

“Sure, I can get you some clothes,” Nate said, walking over to a backpack. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt and held them out for him. “You can borrow my stuff until you get some of your own.”

Nate stood nervously, waiting to see if he needed help.

“Privacy?”

“Sure, holler out if you need help,” Nate said and left the room.

Kylen closed his eyes, taking inventory of his body and his overall condition. He didn’t feel bad, all things considered. Of course, he hadn’t tried to walk yet, but he was reasonably sure he remembered how. He wasn’t going to be
reaping souls anytime soon, but he was hopeful he could at least get some clothes on.

Small victories.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had achieved a personal victory, large or small. Being free of the demon, of Orithidon, was of course a huge victory. He couldn’t wait to discover how that had come to pass. A hundred years with that piece of shit. But he’d do it all over again to save Kara’s soul.

He’d wanted so badly to visit her, but the demon was bound to Hell and Earth. Purgatory was the closest he had ever gotten. Even now, free of the demon, he would never get past where Kara lived. His soul was a black stain that could never be healed, no matter how much magic these strangers poured into him.

Gingerly, he eased over onto his shoulder and pushed himself into a sitting position. His head swam and his focus failed him. He gripped the edge of the bed until his knuckles were white, but he managed to keep his eyes open. He did
not
want to pass out.

The wave of nausea dissipated, and he tested his legs one at a time, stretching them out to the floor. He let his weight slide off the edge of the bed and lowered himself down.

So far, so good.

He stretched up to his full height, letting the blanket slide to the floor. He pushed his shoulders back and felt his back stretch. It felt good.

His head cleared somewhat, and with a growing confidence in his limbs, he managed to find his balance and pull the jeans on one leg at a time. They were
a little big on him, and he realized how much weight he’d lost while he’d been incapacitated.

He remembered himself as being the size of the man who had been tending to him. Looking down at his protruding hip bones, he ran his hand over them one at a time. A few more days of energy starvation, and they’d have buried him somewhere. If he’d ever woken up again, it would have been in a coffin. That was the worst
death
for a reaper. Death by demon was the shits, but to waste away so much that humans thought you were dead? That was worse.

Slipping the shirt over his head, he pulled it down his torso. Considering his diminished physique, he was going to have to pack in the calories and work out to get himself back into shape. That damn demon had let his body go. Still, he felt his strength returning with each passing minute. Hell, he really did feel good enough to flash. They’d never be able to find him. He could regroup and figure out his next move. But where to go?

* * *

Ruth finished making the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and piled them eight-high on the plate. She carried another plate full of cut fruit and veggies. Nate had gathered several bags of chips and various snack cakes, as well.

“Do you think this is enough?” Ruth asked. “We’re getting low on food. One of us might have to make a run into town tonight. Seriously, we should move into a grocery store. Or maybe we should have holed up at your place. At least you have delivery!” Ruth said as they headed to Kylen’s room.

“Oh, yeah, my neighbors would love having imps and God knows what else bouncing off my apartment all the livelong day and night.”

Ruth pushed open the door with her hip and looked over at the bed. The blanket lay in a pile on the floor, and Kylen was gone.

“Oh, no!” She set the plates down on the bed and ran to the window, peering out into the woods. She couldn’t see three feet in front of her into the moonless night.

Nate left his load of food on the bed, too. The clothes he gave Kylen were gone. The reaper must have dressed and flashed. He should have anticipated this happening. It was way too easy for these…reapers to disappear. He couldn’t even bring himself to believe they were reapers. Even after all he’d seen with his own eyes.

Ungrateful bastard.

He was pretty sure that whatever small chance Ruth’s plan had of working was now toast.

* * *

Kylen walked out of the tiny bathroom. They both stared at him as if he was on fire.

“What?” he asked.

The woman’s face filled with relief. “Oh, thank God,” she said. “We thought you’d…flashed.”

She rushed over to him, throwing her arms around him in a hug. He tried to fend her off at first, but he finally settled into the hug. With surprise, he realized that she had no aura. None at all.

He looked over at the man. His aura was a greenish-brown color, mottled and dirty but not dangerous. More conflicted. Kylen knew exactly how he felt.

“Look,” Ruth said, finally pulling away and leading him by the hand toward the bed, which was now covered with a lavish spread of food. “We’re running a bit low, but this will be a good start. Maybe we can fill you in a bit while you eat?”

She pulled the chair around for him, and Nate settled himself on the edge of the bed. Ruth deposited herself on the floor between the two men.

Kylen took one of the sandwiches and pulled up the top piece of bread to peer inside. He crammed half of it in his mouth before clamping down, chewing in obscene bliss. He devoured all eight of the sandwiches in a matter of minutes. Ruth forgot to ask him any questions as he consumed the food. She gaped at him in awkward silence as he ate.

“What was that?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Uh, peanut butter and jelly,” she said, barely containing her amusement.

By the time he moved on to the fruit, she seemed to have collected herself.

“Kylen, what do you remember? Do you know what’s happened to you? Were you aware when the demon was possessing you?” she asked, peering up at him through long black lashes.

Kylen looked at both of them before speaking. “Of course. I remember everything. Everything except for him.” He pointed at Nate. “This guy, I have never seen before.”

“That’s Nate. He’s our friend.”

“So, you’re a reaper after all?” He pointed over at Nate again. “And you? What are you?”

Nate hesitated. “That’s a good question, my friend.”

“He’s a witch,” Ruth said proudly, “and we are learning every day that he has many other useful and amazing skills.”

“Witch?” After finishing up the fruit, Kylen moved on to a bag of chips.

Ruth cast a look at Nate and then sat up a little straighter. “Kylen, do you remember Deacon?”

“Of course,” he said. “Where is he?”

“Deacon captured a demon, took it to Purgatory, and instead of disposing of it in some demon prison, he consumed it. They promoted him to Powers for his success. Are you familiar with that group?” she asked.