Page 75 of Reaper's Quest

I couldn’t blame them for their fear, nor did it surprise me. If I hadn’t been a reaper, I would probably fear me too…when I embraced my full on-the-job, intimidating state.

I yanked my scythe free from my belt and extended it with a quick shake. Besides opening the doorway for departing souls or releasing a soul from its fleshy prison, a gentle wave of the scythe blade could send a swell of calm forgetfulness through the air to help pacify an individual’s transition.

“Forget me,” I whispered and carved a Z in the air.

Waves of soul-soothing serenity slipped from the blade and wafted in their direction. Only I acted too slow to set the task into motion.

A scared soldier at the far end of the line released a horror-filled yell and fired.

Blast. Bang.Zing.

Like the first pop of corn in hot oil, his action ignited explosions from his surrounding brethren.

I whipped my palm upward, set aglow as if to stop the projectiles coming straight for me. A ridiculous notion.

The vision of me clearly scared them even more because, despite the flow of serenity from my scythe, more shots filled the air. More projectiles aimed for me.

The bullets whizzed past me, skinning my arm. Ripping across my thigh.

I closed my eyes and breathed. Concentrated. Changed to mist.

Turning away from the guards, I dashed for cover. Even as nothing more than a dark haze to them, my physical form very much remained a target for their weapons. The shots fired would not pass through me. I would feel them, and they would do damage.

Running in a straight line would make me an easier target, so I darted to the side and raced along the edge of the surrounding buildings.

If more people milled around, maybe the guards wouldn’t have been so quick to attack. But the morning remained early, and from what I had learned these last few days, any inner citadel activity tended to take place once the sun had risen to its highest.

Walking straight to the palace gate hadn’t been one of my finer plans. Rather foolish, actually. I had operated on anger and frustration, and I hadn’t taken the time to think through my actions. Had I taken a moment, I would have gone looking for Valen in order to get Mr. Aldine the help he needed. Possibly heal his affliction.

My father would be so disappointed.He’d warned me what could happen if I allowed my emotions to rule. And I hadn’t listened.

Or I’d listened but failed to heed the advice.

A patchwork of pain sliced into my left shoulder blade, and another cut across…or through…the side of my waist. The force lurched me forward at a sideways angle. The front right side of my body slammed into a wall, the illusion of my mist form lost once more.

“There,” someone yelled.

I glanced back. The guards had not left their posts, but they now knew where to aim.

Hugging the brick of the building, I spun around a nearby corner and gasped for breath. The cuts from yesterday throbbed in my palm, everything else screamed in agony, and I…I couldn’t get enough air. My chest compressed, my throat clenching closed.

Ruthless Raven? More like Reckless Raven, if you ask me.

Chace’s earlier assessment rang in my ears, and I couldn’t argue with him with regard to my recent actions.

Returning to the pub and allowing him to see me this way was the last thing I wanted to do. After the incidences with my slide down the roof, the raven or crow, and then the woman, he had judged me enough already. I wouldn’t subject myself to his egotistic manner any further.

Plus Aoes. What cover story could I ever concoct?

A peek around the corner to the palace gate informed me of the guards’ status. Instead of pursuing, they leaned against the outer wall, their weapons lowered, talk and laughter exchanging between them. My scythe’s soothing must havefinallytaken effect.

A tad late to spare my now torn andburning body.

But…they didn’t pursue me.

I could allow myself a moment to suck in a deep and fulfilling gulp of air.

My muscles slack and lacking energy, I leaned against the wall, in need of support. The slight rub of the harsh wall against my damaged shoulder burned like a wire brush to an open gash.