Page 54 of Reaper’s Curse

With my heart hammering, I stared into the empty space that she had dominated moments ago before being tugged away at the urging of others.

Under orders from the Crown, personnel from the palace had come and swept her away…from me. At least they hadn’t tried to take me into custody. Even if they had threatened me with bodily harm, they had eventually left without incident.

But…shit.

What just happened?

I’d jumped into what I thought would be a fight to help Raven against the Killian. A fight over what, I hadn’t a clue. Given her state, possibly nothing. But as soon as my feet had hit the ground, the Killian had vanished. Leaving me and Raven to…

I pressed two fingers to my bruised lips. The skin beneath my leathers still buzzed in all the places where her body had pressed to mine. And the churning…the yearning…

I shifted my hip, adjusting slightly. My pants had become far too tight. Tighter than the night on the rooftop when I’d sucked the splinter from her finger. Tighter than the time…

I inhaled and let out a breath, once, twice, attempting to steady my heart, my thoughts, my all-too-stiff and heated lower half.

Reaping hell.

I dragged my fingers through my hair, clenched and pulled.

Had her actions been her own? Or had she been pushed by what was riding her? Because, gods, if it were the latter, that would make my responding behavior wrong and unacceptable. I’d felt, smelled, seen the infection dwelling inside of her, and its presence made no sense. Not unless…

The scuff of a shoe dragging across the stone road sounded somewhere over my shoulder.

“Suspected you’d show up sooner or later.”

I jerked at the voice, and in a blink, leaped to my feet. Turning in a slow circle, I surveyed every aspect of the circular space, seeking the source—my previous kidnapper and torturer.

The circular junction was spacious. Spacious enough to accommodate a fight between Raven and the Killian, and then Raven and me. The continuous surrounding wall had five archways, evenly spaced. Each passageway led down a different path through the citadel.

I found what I was looking for in the shadows to my right. A blurred purple and green haze covered the prick, and something else with which I was unfamiliar, as seen through my newly recovered extra sight.

“The Killian was an unexpected surprise,” he continued. “Too bad he left before I could get my hands on him. But you… You were today’s goal. The reason I stayed close to the female when she moved beyond the palace gates.”

He was using Raven to get to me?

I shifted to face him. “I remember you. From before.”

A light sparked in the pain-giver’s eyes, and I knew, without a trace of doubt, that my enemy understood I spoke of a time long ago. A time when I was another being without a trace of reaper blood.

I squared my shoulders. “I don’t think you understand what it is you are dealing with.”

The scumbag took a step forward. “Oh, dare I say, you underestimate me. I know exactly what you are, soul hunter. What you are is what makes you so very interesting to me.”

Because of what I was, the jerk had taken blood and skin and so much more from me. Too much more. But now…now the title soul hunter rattled through my brain, knocking old, forgotten memories free. Soul hunter, one of four, goddess created.

I had siblings…somewhere. Their images wavered at the edges of my memory. I’d been with them here, in the citadel. On that higher rooftop with a clear view of the castle. The rooftop I’d climbed my way to before I had…whatever that was that had taken place between me and Raven.

“My siblings…” I was yet undecided on the choice of words I wanted to vocalize.

“They’re around,” he blurted.

Around? That response was thoroughly unsatisfying.

“And where would around be?”

What were my siblings’ names? I envisioned two brothers and a sister. All comparable in complexion, pale skin and hair, created without a color palette, and now completely dissimilar to me―a reborn creature of slumber and death.

“You know.” My adversary paused and shook a finger, as if the action would help rattle his thoughts free. “I’m less interested in talking about them and far more curious to peruse the topic of the one who just left.”