Page 55 of Reaper’s Curse

A growl rumbled in my chest. I wasn’t even sure where it had come from and why it existed. “I’m not done talking about my siblings.”

“But I am,” the snake retorted. “They are old news to me. As boring as a play I’ve seen performed a hundred times or more. Predictable and no longer fulfilling.”

I narrowed my glare. Had my siblings been tortured into the beyond? Taken to the point of death, as had been done to me when I’d been traded to the Badden heir and found myself in need of a new husk in order to survive?

Too many years had passed since I’d last traveled the streets of this damned citadel, since I’d last seen the other three. Countless things could have happened during that time.

My heart racing, my mind crowded with contemplations and worries.

The prick wagged his index finger. “But that female… Now there’s something interesting.”

My mind snapped clear. If that filth even tried…

I dropped into an attack stance, preparing.

He tilted his head and raised a brow. “She’s not like you. And yet, she too is a curious creature worthy of further examination. Wouldn’t you agree?” He smirked, and my thoughts turned to incensed static. “Of course, your examination just now appeared to be of a different nature. Purely carnal, but an examination nonetheless.”

A snarl ripped free from my throat.

And…my head immediately jerked back. Where had that come from?

The scumbag laughed. “Thank you for your magnificent confirmation regarding her worth. I shall enjoy discovering what makes her tick…eventually.”

I lurched.

At my left, a heavy bang rang out, cutting my forward dash short. A fortified gate blocking the avenue passage on my immediate left had closed.

Clunk.

And locked.

A second bang. The next avenue over was now blocked. Gate shut, locks engaged.

I swept a scrutinizing gaze around the circle, taking in every window and gateway. I was being boxed in. Trapped within the circle. Two of the five exits were now sealed. Three more opportunities remained. One of which, the prick stood center stage.

Another boom. Another avenue blocked.

The evil male folded his fingers, waving me forward. I would enjoy tearing the bastard to pieces, but what was unfolding around me… It was a trap. Had to be.

Before I could follow my craving for revenge, I sprinted toward the yet-to-be-closed-off avenue on the right of the one occupied by the bastard. I would put a hurting on that jackass, just not today.

The mammoth gate began to swing shut. I shifted and slid through the narrowing opening before the barrier could lock into place. Free from the circle, I didn’t pause, lest I seal my fate. Find myself caught.

I ran to the shrinking sound of my adversary’s frustrated hollers. And in my race for preservation, I found that I succeeded in what I had previously tried and failed. I scaled buildings with ease. Leaped between them all the way back to the alley behind Aoes and Earl’s accommodating pub.

Thank Thanatos, the death god himself, that Raven was safe within the palace walls. Because if that sick bastard got his hands on her, touched her, took her, locked her up in a prison cell, I would be forced to shred through every last monster roaming within the citadel walls, not only to find her, but to exact revenge on her behalf.

My legs ached from the continued pacing, my fingers from the nonstop clenching.

I needed to calm my senses so that I could think straight. Properly plan.

As Chace Badden, I’d been sent to the Citadel of Veritas on a reaping task of monumental proportion. A task that was most definitely in need of addressing. Solving and collecting.

But as the creature I was before I merged with the adolescent Chace, I had been sent…no, drawn…to the citadel for a different purpose. One no less important. One I had yet to fully recall, but I remembered others had been involved. My team, my siblings.

Gazing out over the edge of the pub’s rooftop, I took in the ever-growing activity in the streets below. When my reaping team had first arrived, conditions had been relatively quiet, citizens rather frightened and standoffish. I hadn’t blamed them, given the state of things.

Yet the longer the reaping team had remained in residence, the more life seemed to blossom. More people roamed the streets, interacting and, well, being social.