Page 32 of Veil of Death and Shadow (Order of Reapers #1)

32

KIERAN

Present

I dropped Thorne at my feet and sank down to my knees next to her. My hands were numb but trembling as they pushed her hair back from her face. Her eyes were wide, searching, but unseeing.

She coughed and a dark spray of blood colored her lips before dribbling down her chin.

A wet, slightly darker circle formed in her black shirt, the design spreading wider with every second as blood poured out of her.

I lifted her head, trying to cushion it, but my grip on this world was so tenuous that I had to settle for simply the illusion of comfort.

“No, come on,” I whispered, “hang on Agony. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

But this wasn’t the world of the Before. The kind of infrastructure that humans used to have—hospitals, doctors, well-stocked emergency rooms. Those were the things of the past. Even if I could find someone to help her, the chances that they’d be able to fix something this catastrophic were close to zero.

Her friend, Sora, was kneeling next to me, her body trembling as tears rained down on her roommate. She pressed her hands to the chest wound as if trying to stem the blood flow, but of course to no effect.

I could taste her death on the wind.

This—this was not how this was supposed to go. We rescued the girl; we got out for feck’s sake.

For this to happen now—it was just too cruel.

I tried to swallow, but it was like a brick was lodged in my throat.

Not for the first time with this girl, I found myself at an unfamiliar impasse. Never had I found myself so desperate to save someone, when every molecule in my body was designed to do just the opposite. I didn’t know what to do with that incompetence. How to combat it. How to fix her—to keep her here. If not with me, at least with this world.

“Mars,” Sora cried, her hands wrapped around her friend’s shoulders, face tucked into her neck as she rocked back and forth. Her sobs echoed through the street, giving voice to the mirrored trenches in my chest.

No.

The pain in my gut carved sharper when my eyes sought hers again. Why did they suddenly look empty?

I tried to pull her to me, to press my face to her hair, to see that look of disdain she was so fond of tossing at me at every turn. But when I attempted to hold her, my hands fell through.

I was cut off from her.

My body tensed as a familiar surge of power sank into my fingers, burrowing deep into my veins, as my hand fell into her.

“No. No, no, no, no.” My voice cracked as I realized what was happening. What this meant. I fought to pull my hand back, to disconnect from her power source. I didn’t want it. I only wanted her.

But it was impossible. She wouldn’t let go. And, as much as I resented it, I felt her power bloom inside of me and take root. It was as bright and invigorating and intoxicating as she was—almost suffocating in its brilliance.

My vision blurred as the girl who’d turned my entire world inside out disappeared before my eyes. What did a world without her even look like? I was so profoundly uninterested in finding out.

The roommate’s sobs were agonizing—both loud and deep as she clung to the empty shell of the first person I’d given a fuck about in decades. Maybe ever.

I realized then that the pain I’d been fighting for days had bled away—gone entirely now that I’d finally completed my duties.

No. Not gone entirely. Replaced. A different pain, one that made it impossible to breathe or see straight. One that burrowed deep in my lungs until it gripped at my ribcage.

I fell back from them both, my head spinning as I stood, my body drunk with a power I didn’t want.

My chest tightened, and I wanted nothing but for this awful, indescribable feeling to disappear. To go back to the man I was a few weeks ago—aimless, bored, forever fighting to find whatever small surge of pleasure I could steal for myself.

The useless fecking Wrath members surrounded us now, silently watching the scene as the girl grieved for her friend.

Most of them seemed restless, ambivalent to the situation, their eyes still bright with the adrenaline from their fight. They didn’t care, didn’t understand what was really happening, didn’t know what their world had just lost. Fecking hell, what I wouldn’t give to trade their lives for hers.

The only one who appeared affected at all was Sora’s twin. She stood, frozen on the sidelines, eyes brimming with tears as she watched Sora mourn the girl who’d been a sister to her for years.

And then I saw her—the one woman responsible for the unfamiliar pain coursing through my body. She was detained by three guards, the gun nowhere in sight, her lips trembling, whether with regret at what she’d done or fear for what might come, I wasn’t sure. Knowing the people of this world, probably the latter.

Why hadn’t they killed her yet? Why the fuck were they just standing there? Watching on, letting her live?

I moved towards her, my body coiled.

I could be the one to do it. I could be the one to steal her life and, with it, erase the pain currently suffocating me.

But just before I reached her, one of the men holding her slit her throat.

Didn’t matter. I’d find another one. One with power that I could leech. I’d join Thorne in his blissful state—back at the beginning. Before all of this?—

“What happened?” A soft, trembling voice asked.

I froze, my body latching onto the familiar, electric cadence of it.

Slowly, I turned, until I found myself facing its owner, my chest tightening and then relaxing on a harsh breath at the sight of her.

Her eyes were searching, her dark brows furrowed with concern as she studied the scene.

She looked just as she had before the bullet stole her last breath, just as beautiful, just as defiant . . . save for the all-too-familiar set of rings now settled at the base of her knuckles.

“Oh,” I whispered, the small shred of hope that had flooded my veins at the sight of her now hardening into regret. “How?”

She was human, I was sure of it. Could smell it on her from the first moment I encountered her. There was a surge of power from The Undoing, sure, but even magic-touched humans couldn’t become reapers.

Besides, the next cohort of reapers had all already been culled. There shouldn’t have been another one for at least another year or two. And when reapers were culled, they never spawned in this realm—they always reemerged in the Between, through Lethe. I’d have to find a way to transport her there before anyone noticed. Maybe Rafi could help?

Slowly, she turned around, studying the body at her feet, her face seeping of all emotion until it settled into an unreadable mask.

Several of the Wrath recruits were tearing Sora’s grip from Mareena’s body, as the girl screamed and fought to stay where she was.

Her sister was nowhere in sight now, nor was the woman who shot the gun.

“We have to go,” a deep voice argued.

“I’m not leaving her,” Sora shouted, spit flying from her mouth as she fought against them like a rabid animal. She was surprisingly strong for such a small thing. “I’m not leaving her!”

Strong and ferocious as she was, she couldn’t fight off two towering men, especially not in her current state. They pulled her away, her limbs kicking and flailing, as they carried her towards their brigade of cars.

Until it was just me and Agony left in the clearing, her body still at her feet, just as Thorne’s was at mine.

“What happened?” She turned to me, finding her voice again, her eyes widening when they fell on the set of rings at the base of her fingers. Those same eyes shifted up, wild and full of fear as they met mine.

“Fuck.” I pressed my tooth into my bottom lip as I studied her, hardly believing it myself. “I’m so sorry, Agony.”

I should have been excited by the prospect. The old me would have been thrilled. The object of his obsession wasn’t gone forever. A new toy to play with in a world that was always so dark.

But all I felt was a barrage of fear and anger and resentment—because a normal death would have been kinder, freer than the world she would now have to embark on. My kind were ruthless. Parasitic shells. The world’s darkest desires warped and contorted with unabated greed. Our world would break her—strip away everything that lit her up, that made her so goddamn magnetic—until all that was left was a relentless hunger and merciless struggle to survive.

And I’d have a front row seat for the entire process. Would have to watch, nothing more than a bystander, as the girl who’d made me feel alive for the first time maybe ever was sapped of everything that made her who she was.