Page 23 of Reaper’s Ruin (Reaper’s Ruin Trilogy #1)

I decided not to divulge any more information, still unsure how trustworthy he was. “Just need to get in there.”

He tipped his head, then shrugged and said, “Well, you came at the right time, then. There’s a coronation in a few days for the King’s nephew, the new heir.

The court will be packed with visitors. Likely a lot of new faces coming and going so you won’t stick out like a sore thumb.

Wait.” Taelon’s face lit up. “Let me check something. I’ll be right back. ”

With that, he disappeared into the shadows.

“Where did he go?” Soraya asked, her eyes wide.

“He’s slicing through the Shadowveil, probably to scout the Storm Court,” I explained, watching her take in this information with that same wonderment that seemed to accompany everything in this strange afterlife of hers.

A serving woman approached, rattled off the specials, and when Soraya looked at me like she didn’t understand a single dish, I ordered us two hot pies.

I’d never had them, but I’d seen people eating them when I’d been in here behind the veil, and they looked as tasty as I could remember any food tasting.

“So, Taelon isn’t going to like, tattle on you, right?” she asked after the waitress walked away.

I shook my head. “No. I don’t think so. Honestly, most other Reapers would be racing back to the Veil Lords to turn me in and earn some favor, but Taelon he’s... different.”

“So, he’s your friend?”

I paused at the word. If he had been human and alive, I was certain he would have fallen under that category, but he was fae, and I was dead and no longer had need for things such as friends.

I shrugged. “An acquaintance,” I answered.

“Well, he seems nice. Which is shocking because he’s, well,” she leaned forward, “a Reaper.”

“He’s... tolerable,” I said.

“And these Veil Lords. Would you really get in trouble for helping me?”

“I honestly don’t know as no Reaper has ever broken this particular rule before, so I suppose it’s not even a rule to be broken. But yes, most likely they would be very displeased.”

“And what do they do to Reapers they aren’t pleased with?”

“Reap them,” I said matter-of-factly.

Her eyes flew wide. “What? So you’re saying if you get caught helping me try to not get reaped that you could get reaped? Rhyker!” she said too loudly then lowered her voice. “I don’t want you putting yourself at risk for me! I didn’t know you could get in that much trouble!”

I shrugged. “Sure. But I’m not scared of ceasing to exist. In fact, it would be welcomed.”

Her face twisted with emotions as she stared at me. “You... but... why don’t you get your door? I don’t understand. How does it work?”

I shrugged. “None of us really knows. It seems if you’re not bad enough for the bad place or good enough for the good place, you get sent to the Shadowveil as sort of purgatory. You’re there until one day a door appears and you move on. Well, unless you displease the Veil Lords and get reaped.”

“And what makes you get your door? Like a certain number of souls collected? A certain number of years?”

I shrugged again. “No one knows. Reapers have been trying to figure out the formula for as long as we’ve been reaping. Some are there for a short time, others for decades. Most are out within a hundred years.”

She scrunched her forehead. “But didn’t he just say you’ve been there for eight hundred years? Longer than any other Reaper? If other Reapers get a door after doing their service, then why don’t you?”

This was a conversation I wasn’t having, so I sat back, crossing my arms and said, “It’s not important. Let’s just stay focused on you getting your door.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but then the server returned with our hot pies. Soraya’s eyes lit up as they slid the warm, steaming meat pies in front of us.

“Oh my God! This looks amazing!” She closed her eyes, inhaling a deep breath.

Glad she was occupied with the food she seemed to love so much, I quickly turned the conversation away from my afterlife.

“Do you have hot pies where you’re from?”

She stuck a fork in, more steam rising from the opened crust. “We have what we call pot pies, and I think this is similar. Meat, vegetables in like a gravy.” She paused, stopping to take a bite.

Then with her mouth full, she mumbled out, “This is so good,” she moaned, closing her eyes as she savored a bite. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

I watched her eat, finding a strange satisfaction in her enjoyment. Everything about her was so vibrant, so alive, despite her technical state of being. In any lifetime, I’d never met anyone who experienced the world with such open wonder.

“Eat! You must be starving too,” she said, pointing her fork at my pie.

I had almost forgotten that I needed to eat too, and I looked down at it, wondering what flavors awaited me and if they would be as good as that sweet roll. I took a bite, closing my mouth around the food that exploded with flavors in my mouth.

“Good, right?” She grinned then shoved another bite in her mouth .

I nodded, my stomach rumbling with excitement as I shoveled in bite after bite, ignoring the fact it was too hot, the simple flavors of food so overwhelming it almost hurt.

“Oh, we need something to drink. I’ll get us something at the bar.” She leaned in. “We need a beer or something. What do they call that here? You know, it’s like golden colored, foamy top, makes you feel happy and relaxed?”

I furrowed my brow while I finished my bite. “Ale?”

“Oh! We call it ale in the Mortal Realm too! But also beer. I’ll go get us two.”

When she stood to get us ale, I found my eyes following her across the room. She was beautiful in that dress, the green fabric clinging to curves I had no business noticing. But it wasn’t just me noticing. Every male gaze in the tavern turned to follow her, some subtle, others openly leering.

My hand tightened around the hilt of my dagger, a surge of possessive rage rising in me with an intensity that was both foreign and familiar.

“Whoa, there,” Taelon’s voice cut through my dark thoughts as he slipped back into place beside our table. “You look like you’re about to go on a Reaper spree. Can you even reap in that form?”

I didn’t answer, my jaw clenched too tight for words.

“I’ve got to say,” Taelon continued, his eyes following mine to where Soraya stood at the bar, “for a human she’s quite something. Those curves would make even a Flame Court noble lose his composure.” He whistled low. “If I were in physical form—”

“Finish that sentence,” I growled, “and I’ll find a way to reap you myself.”

Taelon laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Gods, you’ve got it bad! Eight centuries of nothing but cold indifference, and a cute ghost has you ready to commit murder over a little appreciation.”

I glared at him, but his smile only widened .

“Relax, Death—sorry, Rhyker . I’m just teasing. But seriously, I’ve never seen you like this over anything. It’s... refreshing.”

I forced myself to unclench my jaw. “Did you learn anything useful at the Storm Court, or did you just come back to irritate me?”

“Both,” he said cheerfully. “I found the perfect entrance point. There’s a back gate that leads to the servant quarters.

During the coronation, they’ll be bringing in extra staff from all over.

If you can dress the part, no one will look twice.

Once you’re inside, you’ll be free to move around just about anywhere.

There will be days of festivals, parties, celebrations.

In two day’s time, there is the masquerade ball in the main keep.

If you can get inside and have clothes to help you blend in, it’s the perfect time to go look around.

Everyone will be concealed. Then you can look for. .. whatever it is you’re looking for.”

He stared at me, no doubt hoping for an answer. Instead, I nodded, relieved to focus on logistics rather than the confusing emotions about Soraya churning inside me. “That could work.”

“But Rhyker, you’d better be careful. If the Veil Lords find out—”

“They won’t,” I cut him off. “At least, not from you right?”

Taelon’s expression sobered. “I won’t say a word. As far as anyone knows, you’re still chasing this rogue soul around Faelora. I’ll tell them I ran into you, and you’re closing in on her.”

I studied him, surprised by his easy alliance. “Why would you risk yourself for me?”

He shrugged, a half-smile playing on his lips. “Maybe I like seeing the mighty Death actually give a damn about something for once. Or maybe I’m just curious to see how this plays out.” His eyes met mine, suddenly serious. “Or maybe I remember what it’s like to care about someone that much. ”

For a moment, I considered looping him into the full weight of our dilemma.

The dagger. The man that killed her likely being a Storm court royal.

I could have him use the power of his Reaper form in a way I no longer could, watching from the shadows and reporting back to me anything he learned.

But Soraya was the only one who would recognize her killer, and Taelon was a fae.

No matter how much he started to wear down on my desire to have nothing to do with him, if there was one thing I’d learned when I was still alive, it was that fae can never, ever be trusted.

Before I could respond, Soraya returned holding two tankards of ale. Taelon shot me a knowing look, complete with exaggerated eyebrow wiggles when her back was turned.

“I should be going,” he said, straightening. “Souls to reap, you know how it is. Nice meeting you, Soraya. Good luck finding your door.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she replied with a genuine smile. “Thanks for helping us.”

He winked at her, then at me, before slipping back into the shadows and disappearing completely.

Soraya settled across from me, sliding my ale forward. “I like him. He’s funny.” She took a sip, leaving a small foam mustache on her upper lip that she quickly wiped away. “So, all Reapers aren’t grumpy and terrifying, huh?”

“Taelon is an exception,” I muttered, taking a deep drink from my tankard.

“And apparently, so are you,” she said, studying me over the rim of her cup. “‘Death’ himself, helping a lost soul instead of reaping it. What would the other Reapers say?”

“Nothing good,” I replied grimly, knowing that what I’d chosen to do—what I was continuing to do—had consequences I hadn’t yet faced.

But consequences I would happily endure for the chance to see her find her peace and see her mother again, even if it meant having to say goodbye.

Something that was going to be harder and harder to do the longer I spent time with her.

She reached across the table, her fingers lightly touching my hand. It was just the briefest contact, but it sent a jolt through me, the sensation of her warm skin against mine still novel and overwhelming.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For all of this.”

I looked down at where her fingertips had brushed my skin, searching for something to say that wouldn’t reveal too much of what I was feeling. But before I could find the words, she pulled her hand back, her attention already shifting to our next steps.

“So, the Storm Court,” she said, her voice stronger now. “How do we get there from here?”

I was grateful for the change in subject. This, at least, I understood. Plans. Strategy. These were safer territory than the unfamiliar landscape of emotions she kept dragging me into.

“We’ll need to find appropriate clothing first,” I said. “Something that will help us blend in with the Storm Court aesthetic.”

“And how exactly are we going to afford that?” she asked, gesturing to the nearly empty pouch Selyse had given us. “We spent most of our money on this meal and won’t have enough for fancy clothes.”

A plan was already forming in my mind—one that involved locating some of the Dark Market’s less savory characters and relieving them of their ill-gotten gains. I’d spent centuries watching from the shadows; I knew exactly which criminals deserved to fund our mission.

“Leave that to me,” I said. “We’ll have what we need by morning.”

She studied me for a moment, a small smile playing at her lips. “You’re going to do something bad, aren’t you? ”

“Does it bother you?” I asked, genuinely curious about her moral boundaries.

She took another sip of ale, considering. “Normally, yes. But considering I’m trying to find out who murdered me and my mother, and you’re literally Death helping me avoid extinction... I think I can make an exception to my usual moral code.”

I found myself almost smiling at that. Almost.

“Good,” I said, finishing my ale. “Because we’ll need to bend a few rules to get what we need.”

“Rules are already pretty bent, don’t you think?” she replied with a laugh that did strange things to my insides. “What’s a few more at this point?”

What indeed. I was already risking everything for this one human soul. A few acts of theft hardly seemed significant in comparison.

But as I watched her laugh, her eyes bright with life despite everything she’d lost, I knew I would do far worse than stealing to keep her safe. To keep her existence intact.

And that realization was more terrifying than anything the Veil Lords could throw at me.