Reaper's Revenge

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Reaper’s Revenge

ISBN # 1-4199-0456-6

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Reaper’s Revenge Copyright© 2006 Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Edited by Mary Moran.

Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication: April 2006

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

Warning:

The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been ratedS-ensuous by a minimum of three independent reviewers.

Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (Erotic), and X (X-treme).

S-
ensuous
love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

E-
rotic
love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as

“fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature.

X-
treme
titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

REAPER’S REVENGE

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Silus Gibbs stared at his companion but was careful not to show the Jakotai brave just how much he despised him. He’d foolishly shared one of his fledglings with the red man, but it hadn’t been out of the goodness of his heart that he’d done so. Gibbs’ heart was as black as tar and there wasn’t a single speck of either compassion or kindness in that withered organ. Gibbs’ ebony engine contained only poison and a strong desire to torture, mutilate and kill—not necessarily in that order. His dark blue eyes locked on the native Terran, Gibbs was filled with a desire to slit the Jakotai’s throat but knew it wouldn’t be an easy thing to accomplish now that the red man had powers very similar to his own.

Otaktay felt the white man’s eyes stabbing him but he chose to ignore it. He was too intent on skinning the rabbit he’d shot for his supper. The air around him was filled with venom coming off the man across the campfire, but the Jakotai brave neither feared that venom nor let it concern him. He had other things on his mind this night and the rogue glaring at him wasn’t one of them.

“You ain’t much of a conversationalist, are you?” Gibbs sneered. He finished the last of his own meager supper of hardtack and beans, his mouth watering as he watched the red man spit the rabbit and sling it across the campfire.

“I speak when I have something to say,” Otaktay replied. His black eyes glittered with hatred.

Gibbs snorted then took a sip of his coffee. The bitter brew made him wince but it helped to keep him awake. He wasn’t all that sure the brave wouldn’t attempt to cut his head off if he dared to take a snooze. He glanced at the fast-moving river beside which they were camped. The rogue grinned nastily.

“Thought sure I’d drown when I dove in the water,” he said. “That was a better end than the one the Reaper had planned for me.” He chuckled. “Imagine my surprise when I just floated on downstream and managed to pull myself out. Damned parasite must have been surprised too!”

The white man’s words meant nothing to Otaktay. He was a strong swimmer and had enjoyed the river near his Jakotai encampment, but since taking the parasite into his body, he had discovered a paralyzing fear of the water. It was the only fear Otaktay had ever had. Such a weakness infuriated the brave, but he wasn’t willing to try diving into the water as the white man had suggested, proving he wouldn’t die.

“Hell, you won’t drown. I’m telling you. Look at me. I didn’t!”

Truth from the tongue of the white man was not something Otaktay considered likely. He knew the man hated him—just as he hated Gibbs. He would bide his time, 4

Reaper’s Revenge

keep vigilant watch then dispose of the foul-smelling rogue when he was no longer of use.

“Whatcha gonna do with that woman of yours when you find her?” Gibbs asked. The sizzle of the rabbit’s fat hitting the fire made his belly growl. A muscle worked in Otaktay’s lean jaw. “I will take her one last time then I will strip the flesh from her, an inch at a time.”

“Whoowee!” Gibbs chortled, slapping his hand on his knee. “Sounds like my kind of fun!”

Turning fierce eyes to the white man, Otaktay spat out his words as though they were filled with acid. “Only I will lay hands to my woman,” he stated.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gibbs said, waving a hand. “But you’re gonna let me watch, ain’t you?”

Disgust rippled over the Jakotai brave’s face. He did not answer the white man. The settling of a debt of honor was a personal thing. Aingeal had run from him—not once but three times—and now, to save face, he must punish her for her disrespect by ending her treacherous life.

“Don’t cotton to women, myself,” Gibbs said as he stretched out on the hard ground. “I get my pleasure elsewhere. If you know what I mean.”

Otaktay looked up from turning the rabbit over on its spit and regarded the white man with loathing. He understood what the white man meant and the thought of such a thing sickened him. It was not something condoned in the Jakotai culture.

“Khnum Jaborn once told me something about not mating with women but I paid no heed to him. Didn’t affect me none ‘cause I had no intention of touching no woman in that way.” He scratched at the filthy crotch of his britches. “Don’t recall exactly what it was he had to say about the matter but seems to me he said it was against rogue law.”

The Jakotai brave’s eyes narrowed. “I am not governed by your white man’s laws,”

Otaktay sneered. “What I do with my woman is my business and no other’s.”

“Suit yourself,” Gibbs said. He was becoming sleepy but was still uneasy about closing his eyes around the red man. “No skin off my nose if you want to fuck the filly afore you peel off her skin.” He chuckled at his comment.

“Who is this Jaborn about whom you keep telling me?” Otaktay inquired. If there was another rogue nearby, he needed to know of him.

“Damn you sure do talk like an edjucated man,” Gibbs said. “Where’d you learn to talk so fancy?”

“I speak as I was taught by my grandfather,” Otaktay snapped. “Who is this Jaborn?”

“Came from the stars, he did,” Gibbs said, looking up. “Leastways he said he did. Some place way up there. He’s the one what gave me my parasite.”

“The stars,” Otaktay repeated. “Such is not possible.”

“I didn’t think so neither, but you damned sure didn’t say that to Jaborn’s face.”

5

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“Where is he now?”

“Reaper got him just ‘fore he came after me,” Gibbs said with a frown. He pointed at Otaktay. “That’s why I told you it’ll take the two of us to bring that bastard down. Jaborn was the best, but the Reaper took him out like that!” He snapped his fingers.

“Cleaner than a whistle.”

Otaktay looked away from the white man’s florid face. He regretted allowing the man to live the morning he’d found him slaughtering a family of farmers near the place where Otaktay had tracked Aingeal. Had it not been for the questions the white man was screaming at the dying ones, the Jakotai brave would have dispatched him.

“He’s running with a woman named Angel or something like that. You’d better tell me where he is!”

The farmers had died without giving the white man the answers he’d been seeking. When the rogue had become aware of Otaktay’s presence, he’d spun around and charged, the bloodlust still high on his beefy face.

It had taken all of Otaktay’s skill to keep the enraged white man from gutting him with the knife he’d used on the farmers. They’d struggled a few minutes—neither getting the upper hand—until the white man howled as though he were a wolf. Otaktay had been stunned when Gibbs had tossed away his bloody knife and came at him with teeth exposed and fingers curled into claws, his body changing into that of an animal as he ran.

But the gods had been with Otaktay that morning. Riders had appeared out of nowhere, bearing down on them with rifles blazing. Gibbs had loped away—still in his wolf form, leaving Otaktay to jump upon his pony and race away as well. They’d come upon one another again near a town twenty miles away. Otaktay had had plenty of time to consider the man who had changed into a beast. He’d heard of the beings called Reapers, knew they went after other beings called rogues. Realizing that was what the foul-smelling white man was and that he was after the same man Otaktay was, the brave decided to learn what he could before killing the man. Cautiously approaching, Otaktay had held his hands out to his side, well away from his weapons.

“What the hell do you want?” Gibbs had snarled.

“I too seek the man who rides with my woman. What do you know of him?”

Gibbs’ eyes had narrowed to malicious slits. While he could never be labeled as intelligent, he did recognize opportunity when it presented itself to him. He doubted he could take the Reaper one-on-one but if there were two against Cynyr Cree, the chances were far better.

“Whatcha want with Cree?”

Otaktay had hunkered down well away from the white man. “He took my woman,” he answered. “I want her back.”

“And if’n you find Cree, what then?”

“I will slay him.”

6

Reaper’s Revenge

“Yeah,” Gibbs had sneered. “You and what army?” He hawked up a thick wad of phlegm and spat. “You don’t stand a chance against a Reaper.”

Otaktay had puffed out his chest. “I am a great warrior of my People. I—”

“You don’t stand a chance,” Gibbs repeated. “Unless…”

The Jakotai brave watched the white man very closely. “You know a way I can defeat him with ease?”

“Not alone, you can’t,” Gibbs said. “But if’n we join forces—”

Shaking his head, Otaktay dismissed that idea. “I have no desire to do this.”

“Suit yourself,” the white man had said with a shrug.

Then all hell had broken loose.

The white man leapt at him with blinding speed, lengthening teeth going to Otaktay’s throat and biting deep. Huge hands had pinned the brave to the ground easily. Dark red blood had gushed from Otaktay’s throat when the white man moved off him. Strangling, unable to breathe, dying, the Jakotai was too weak to fight as the white man flipped him to his belly.

He had felt the knife cut on his bare back. The sting had been sharp, but the pain that followed had been so acute, Otaktay had nearly unmanned himself by screaming. Hot agony had wriggled down into the brave’s back and bitten into his organs. He had writhed on the ground—trying to dislodge whatever had invaded his body—but the pain only increased. Frothing at the mouth, blood still spurting from his injured neck, Otaktay watched his life pass before him.