Shadow Reaper (Shadowlands Series) (13 page)

BOOK: Shadow Reaper (Shadowlands Series)
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“What’s your name, human?”

“Ash, I mean Ashling, but my friends call me Ash.”

“Ashling.”

Okay, so not friends yet, that was cool.

“Why are you here, Ashling?”

“I got chased by the Trader’s . . . hound thingies and found this place. Freya, the woman on the door, brought me in. Listen, the Traders have my friend, Bernadette. They’re going to sell her. I need to get her back. I need to get to um . . .” What had Treagor called the place? “Inferna.”

Avery’s expression shuttered. “That, Ashling, is not my problem.”

The door behind me opened, and I stepped away from it, turning to see who had just entered.

The man that walked in was even taller than Avery. His hair was shockingly white, his skin was almost as pale, and white lashes fringed pale blue eyes. Where Avery was pretty buff, this new bloke was slender and wiry. His hair was cropped short, almost to the scalp, and he looked at me as if he were examining an interesting specimen under a microscope.

My skin itched under his scrutiny, and I rubbed my arms to dispel the goose bumps that popped up.

“So?” Avery said.

I turned to him, thinking he was talking to me, but his attention was on the pale guy.

“Jiva? Do you sense anything?”

Jiva’s pale eyes narrowed a fraction, and then he blinked, releasing me from his gaze. I dropped my eyes to the floor and swallowed, suddenly feeling light headed.

“Maybe a touch.” He moved closer and lifted his hand. “Do not move, human,” he said. I didn’t think I could, even if I wanted to. His proximity was playing havoc with my senses, sending strange tingles up and down my spine. What the hell was he? He laid an icy hand on my cheek and I flinched.

“Please. Remain still. This will take but a moment. I mean you no harm.”

Avery snorted indelicately.

I stood as still as possible while Jiva branded me with his icy palm, and then, just like that, it was over.

I raised my lashes to look up at him. Had I passed his little test? Because that’s what this was, some kind of messed up test. I just wished I knew what they were testing me for.

The pale guy, Jiva, dismissed me and turned to Avery. “I can’t get a read. I can’t get a sip. I sense it there. It’s definitely there, but buried, deep, so deep that I am unable to access it.”

“It’s the same for me. I couldn’t read her. No idea what she’s feeling.”

“This is interesting.”

“New.”

“Do you think?”

“Hey!” I said.

They stopped talking and looked at me. I licked my lips. “What can’t you sense?” I addressed Jiva. “And what can’t you read?” I asked Avery.

Avery smiled, slow and calculating like he had on the balcony earlier. He began to circle me.

“You tell us, human. What is it you’re hiding? Why did you come to the Shadowlands? What is it you’re looking for?” He stopped in front of me, towering over me, trying to intimidate. I’d had enough. I was tired and hungry and sad, really fucking sad about Bernie. I didn’t need this shit.

I met his gaze and lifted my chin. “I came looking for food.”

He blinked, looking surprised.

“Yeah, that’s right. Food, something we don’t have much of over the Horizon, something you seem to have more than enough of in your museum.” The surprise was still there, etched on his beautiful face as if the thought of searching for food was something shocking and strange. It made my chest burn with anger and loosened my tongue. “You know what? You make me fucking sick. Why? Why would you do this to us? What did we ever do to you? You took our home, you took our sun and moon, and you left us trapped on a dying island with no hope.” I took a breath, chest rising and falling with emotion. “I came looking for food. I came looking for hope! You tied us into a treaty to stop us coming here, to stop us finding out the truth that there’s still life, there’s still a moon, but you know what? I don’t care anymore, we’re dying anyway so it doesn’t matter. Your treaty doesn’t matter.”

Avery blinked down at me, and I saw his eyes cloud with what I could only describe as confusion. He glanced over his shoulder. “Do you know what the human is talking about, Jiva?”

“I have no idea,” Jiva said.

I looked from one to the other. “The treaty . . . the one that says we can’t come into the Beyond.”

Avery shrugged.

“The one that says you’ll attack and annihilate us all if we venture forth?”

Avery snorted again. “There is no treaty, human. Why would the vulture make a treaty with a corpse? You have nothing to offer us. Besides, if such a treaty did exist, we would have attacked a long time ago. You’ve seen the human staff walking the floors of our establishment, I assume.”

I didn’t know what to say. No treaty? What the hell was going on?

“Humans are not that interesting. Aside from labour, food, or sex, they have little function in our world.”

“Is that why you have a museum?” I asked. “Because you don’t value anything human?”

Avery turned away, shaking his head.

It was Jiva who spoke next. “The museum is mine, human.” Something flashed in those pale eyes, more than clinical assessment, more than curiosity, but I couldn’t quite define it. I didn’t know him well enough to read him.

There was a soft knock at the door.

“Enter, Freya,” Jiva said.

The door opened and Freya popped her head in. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she scanned the room.

“Sir, you summoned me?” she said.

Jiva’s lips twitched in what I thought was a smile. “Yes, Freya. Please take this human to the living quarters and have her settled. She works for Apocalypse now.”

“What? No!” I stared at him in panic. “I can’t stay here. I need to find Bernadette then get back to my people.”

Avery, who’d had his back to us all this time, turned to face us. “You will stay here and you will do as you are bid, human.” His tone was soft, but brooked no argument. Only problem was, I had a penchant arguments.

“You can’t force me to stay here!”

His eyes lit up with anger, and I exhaled, reigning it in, reminding myself where the hell I was and that if it wasn’t for these people, I’d probably be off to be sold.

“Look, I’m sorry I got pissed, but I need to find my friend. I have to save her. Can you understand that?”

“If she wants to leave, Avery—”

“Look at her shoulder.” Avery said, cutting Jiva off.

Jiva didn’t question, he simply moved toward me and reached for my shirt collar. He paused. “May I?”

Man, these creatures were confusing—overbearing and bossy one moment, all chivalrous and polite the next.

I nodded.

He careful pulled back my collar to peer at my shoulder. He inhaled sharply, released my shirt, and stepped back.

“Take her to quarters, Freya, and put her on watch. She can work the bar with Henry.”

What had happened to “She can leave if she wants to?”

“Seriously? You’re gonna keep me prisoner?”

“Come on,” Freya hissed. “That’s enough.” She tugged me out of the room but not before I caught the words.

“Believe me, it’s for your own good.”

***

“Are you nuts?” Freya asked as we rode the lift back down.

“No. I just don’t like being held prisoner.”

Freya was looking at me as if I’d grown two heads. “If you hadn’t noticed, our world has gone to shit, and this place . . . it’s the best fucking thing that could happen to you. You get fed, you get a roof, you get to live.”

“Yeah, but I don’t get to leave, do I?”

She planted her fists on her hips. “And where would you go?”

“I’d go to Inferna and save my friend.”

Her fists slid off her hips just as the lift pinged and the doors slid open. She ushered me into a dimly lit corridor and then turned me to face her.

“I’m sorry about your friend, I really am. But Inferna . . . it’s not somewhere you come back from unscathed, if you come back at all. If she’s been taken there then she’s either dead, or no longer the woman you know. You need to forget her and move on.”

“I can’t. I understand what you’re saying, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try. I know it’s dangerous out there, which is why I was asking for help. Why can’t they help me? Just get me there, give me directions. I mean, I’m just another human, why does it matter that I stay here?”

She frowned. “Yeah, that is kinda weird. I was wondering about that, but then you’re pretty hot, so I just thought Avery has taken a shine to you, and . . . um . . . you know.”

“Does he do that?”

Freya smiled, her eyes going dreamy. “If you’re lucky. He’s an empath, you see, so he can sense your emotions, manipulate them to heighten . . . ahem . . . anyway. It’s either Avery or Daemon and, trust me, you don’t want it to be Daemon.” Her eyes lit up then went all shifty. She was hiding something, and it had to do with this Daemon.

“Freya? What aren’t you telling me?”

Freya winced. “Shit! My mum always said I had a crappy poker face. Look, if you’re serious about Inferna, then Daemon is the Shadowlander to speak to. He’s one of the bosses.”

“Like Avery and Jiva?”

Freya chuffed. “No. He’s nothing like Avery or Jiva. Daemon is . . . he’s something else entirely, but he’s your best bet.”

“Why?”

“Because to find Inferna you have to have been there before, or been born there. Neither Avery or Jiva qualify, but Daemon, Daemon is an Infernan.”

She said it as if it should mean something to me, all hushed tones and wide eyes.

“Okay, so where can I find him?”

“You don’t.” Freya moved off and I followed her past door after door. “Daemon is his own beast. I’ve never actually seen him, but his girls have some stories I can tell you.”

“Girls?”

She stopped outside a white door and looked me up and down, assessing. For a moment, she reminded me of Jiva, and I was about to say something, but then the similarity was gone, and she was pushing open the door. “If you’re as interesting as Jiva and Avery think, then I’m sure Daemon will summon you . . . eventually.” She stepped into the room. “When he does, I’m not sure you’ll be so pleased.”

She flicked a switch and the room was bathed in soft amber light.

I stared in awe at the high cushy-looking bed, the soft, plush-looking sofa, and the small kitchenette to the left.

“This will be your room,” Freya said. She took my chin and forced me to look at her. “This is a safe place, babe. There’s no harm in allowing yourself to feel safe. No harm at all.” She turned to leave and paused at the door. “Oh, if you feel up to it, get washed up and changed and come down to the lounge. Down the corridor and turn left, you can’t miss it. You can meet some of the girls.” She winked and closed the door, leaving me all alone.

I stood in the centre of the room, suddenly bone weary and achingly alone. There was so much to process. The intact streets that made up Jiva’s museum, the fact that there was no treaty and therefore nothing stopping my people from coming and going as they pleased, aside for the threat of Traders and critters. It made me question who’d invented this fake treaty? Why don’t the Traders just go beyond the Horizon and take humans? I’d have to ask Freya about that one. I made a mental note to do so and then moved toward the bed and sat down. I meant to just take a minute to gather myself. I had every intention of heading to the lounge. I needed to speak to these girls, find out what they knew about this Daemon. He was my only hope at getting Bernadette back, but the bed was so soft and comfortable against my aching butt that I couldn’t resist laying down.

Just a moment, I told myself.

***

I awoke, I’m not sure how much later, to an amused Freya holding a mug of something that smelled delicious. I sat up, rubbed my eyes and offered her a smile.

“I guess you needed that, huh? Here, drink this. It’ll put some colour back in your cheeks.”

It was something Clay would say. I took the mug.

“What is it?”

“Viola’s special broth. Trust me, it’s good.”

I took a tentative sip and sighed as spicy cinnamon flavour and heat exploded on my tongue. It hit my stomach and warmth radiated outward, leaving me tingling.

“That is good.” I took another sip.

“Told you. I’m about to start my next shift, but I thought I’d take you down and introduce you to Henry. He runs the bar. You’ll be working with him.”

“How long was I out?”

She grinned. “Twelve hours or so. It’s cool, don’t worry. Cal said to let you rest up. After what you went through, you needed it, but you gotta work for your place here, and you’ll need to make sure you get to your shifts on time, ’kay?”

I nodded, all the time wondering when I could knock off, go to the lounge and speak to these girls that Freya had mentioned. The sooner I got to Daemon, the sooner I could get out of here, find Bernadette, and go home.

Freya reached for the mug and I blinked in surprise to find it empty. Freya laughed. “Yeah, it goes down far too quick, doesn’t it?” She pointed to a chest of drawers in the corner of the room. “You’ll find fresh clothes in there. There’s no time for a wash now, but you can have one after your shift. Just grab a shirt and I’ll meet you outside in two.”

She left me to it and I stretched and stood. I didn’t know what had been in that broth, but whatever it was it had taken away my aches and pains. I felt energised and ready for anything.

I found several black shirts with “Apocalypse” scrawled in white letters on the back, black trousers and black socks. I reached for the hem of my shirt to pull it off, expecting the flare of pain from my back wound, but nothing happened. Strange. I pulled off the shirt and searched for a mirror. There wasn’t one in this room, but there was a door, which I was pretty sure led to a washroom. I pushed open the door and went in, flicked the switch and winced at the flare of light. How were they doing this? We were lucky at Shelter with the government generators powered by the Thames, but how were they getting their power? Another question to add to my ever-growing list.

I found a small mirror located above an equally small sink. There was a narrow tub too, but I wasn’t interested in that at the moment. I needed to look at my back. It was awkward, but with some stretching and twisting, I managed to catch a glimpse of the wound. I blinked at it for a long moment and then moved back into the main room and pulled on the black Apocalypse shirt. It sat smoothly against my skin, against the wound that was now merely a faint pink line.

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