He had already lost his father. He couldn’t lose her, too.
“Fi, look at me. That’s it, sweetheart. Look at me,” he said, forcing a smile he didn’t feel when their eyes met.
Her gaze softened, the pain falling away. “Rordan,” she whispered.
“Shhh. Everything is going to be fine. Just keep your eyes open. I’m going to take you to someone who can help.” Rordan knew it was against the rules, but he didn’t care. The Dragon Kings owed the Reapers, and he would call in a favor. Constantine, King of Dragon Kings, could heal anything.
And he would heal Fianna.
Rordan started to gather her tighter to him, ready to jump, when her eyes slid closed. “Fianna? Fi, baby, look at me. Open your eyes. Please, sweetheart. Look at me. Fi? Come on. You’re strong. You can get through this. Just open your eyes.”
When he saw the first movement of ash, he was unable to move, unable to think. Someone grabbed him from behind, and the next thing Rordan knew, he was somewhere else. And Fianna was gone.
He threw back his head and let out a bellow of rage, agony…and loss.
Rordan fought like a wild thing to get away, using magic and physical strength. He lashed out, hitting whoever he could, all the while roaring Fianna’s name over and over again.
Eoghan held him, refusing to let go. But he wasn’t the only one. Every Reaper was there, keeping Rordan from returning to Fianna. The last thing Rordan needed was to see someone he loved disintegrate. Eoghan’s heart hurt for Rordan, because he knew just how devastating the loss would be. And the ripples it would cause would be felt for many centuries to come.
That was if Rordan survived.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The pain subsided. Fianna breathed a sigh of relief even as her heart clutched, recalling Rordan’s voice breaking as he called her name. A tear escaped from between her lids. She didn’t want to open her eyes because the world she had known, the one Rordan had been in, was gone. The Fae never spoke much of the afterlife. The majority assumed that once they were reduced to ash, they were simply no more.
Now she knew that wasn’t the truth. She had her consciousness, at least. And if she opened her eyes, she might find out more. Yet, she couldn’t. Cowardice kept her eyes tightly shut, and her mind full of thoughts of Rordan.
She heard a sigh from someone near. “It would be easier if you opened your eyes.”
Fianna hadn’t expected a feminine voice. She hadn’t expected anyone. Curious, she lifted her lids and found herself looking at the same trees she had seen before she died. She turned her head to discover a beautiful female sitting on the ground, her knees drawn up to her chest. She noted she wore armor, which Fianna approved of. The leather breastplate had a Celtic design on it that matched the arm vambraces. The outfit’s skirt was leather strips and chainmail that reminded her of something the Roman army wore or….
“Xena,” Fianna said.
The warrior quirked one finely arched black brow. “Excuse me?”
Fianna shook her head, unable to believe she had said the name aloud. She glanced around for a sign of Rordan. “Your outfit reminds me of Xena, the Warrior Princess.”
“He isn’t here.”
Her head snapped back to the female. “How do you know who I was looking for?”
The warrior smiled softly, her lavender eyes crinkling at the corners. She tossed her long, blue-black locks over her shoulder and placed her forearms on her knees. “Because I know who you are.”
“And who are you?”
“I’ve gone by several names. Mistress of War is one. Death is another.”
Fianna was so shocked that she couldn’t form words.
Death blew out a breath and shifted so that she sat facing Fianna. “I hold your soul, preventing your death. For the moment.”
“I see.” Though she really didn’t. But what did one say to…Death?
Death tilted her head to the side, causing a wave of hair to fall over one shoulder. “Fae warriors have always caught my attention. The best keep it. You, Fianna, are exceptional. And it’s those extraordinary warriors, those who have been betrayed and murdered, that I make my offer to. As Death, I am judge and jury to the Fae. I have a group known as Reapers, who carry out my judgements. I would like you to join them.”
Fianna swallowed, unable to believe that the Reapers were real. The group was hotly debated among the Fae. Then her mind halted. She had been betrayed. And she had been murdered—by her brother.
“Before you decide,” Death continued, “there are rules. The first is that no one can know who or what you are. You will lie at all costs to prevent any Fae from learning you’re a Reaper. The second is that you obey my every command without hesitation or question.”
“Is that all?” Fianna asked as a wave of pain ran through her.
Death shook her head. “You can’t have contact with anyone from your past. Not family, friends, lovers. Anyone.”
Fianna thought of Rordan. Could she continue living without him?
“As a Reaper, I will give you a second chance. You will have more power, more strength than the average Fae. Your duties, however, will exceed those of just reaping. We fight alongside our allies like the Dragon Kings to protect ourselves and this realm from enemies.”
“The Others,” she said, thinking of what Rordan had told her of the group.
Death’s lips curved into a smile. “Exactly. This second chance doesn’t mean you’re immortal. You can be killed, but your extra magic will help prevent that, for the most part.”
Fianna found all of it intriguing, but her mind had returned to the one who had taken her life. “What of Dorcha? Can I take my revenge on him?”
“He is no more.”
Emotion overtook her because Fianna didn’t need to ask to know that Rordan had killed him. She should be saddened that her brother was dead, but it was hard to feel anything but relief for the person who had taken her life.
“Your time is running out,” Death said. “What is your answer?”
All her life, Fianna had known she was meant to do something great. She’d thought it had been helping her brother and father. Maybe this was her destiny. She wasn’t afraid of dying. She was afraid of losing Rordan, but it appeared that would happen either way. At least with Death’s offer, she could make a difference in the world.
“I accept,” Fianna said.
Death reached over and touched her with one finger. In an instant, the pain was gone, and she was able to move her legs. Fianna sat up, renewed. There was a smile on her face, even though her heart broke at finally finding love and then having it slip through her fingers.
“Are you ready to meet the rest?”
Fianna got to her feet and used magic to conjure new clothing in all black, but this time more body-hugging. She was shocked to see that Death was shorter than she. “I’ve never known a Fae with eyes your color.”
“That’s because I’m not Fae. I’m a goddess.”
The words had barely registered before Death grabbed her arm and teleported them to a tiny isle in the middle of a body of water. Death released her and walked through a Fae doorway. Fianna hurried to follow.