Chapter One
Sly Stag Pub
Dublin
Nothing about the mellow music drifting from the speakers calmed Torin. He hadn’t been able to shake the dark feeling hanging over him since Rordan’s last mission. Something wicked was coming, and for the first time since becoming a Reaper, he was worried.
Torin sat at the bar, his gaze moving across every face in the tavern. The Fae Others were targeting Reapers. He and his brethren wouldn’t stand by and wait for the Others to find them. No, the Reapers were going after the bastards—on Death’s orders.
His gaze met those of his fellow Reaper, Aisling, across the bar. Her long, black and silver hair hung down her back in dozens of small plaits. She wrapped her fingers with their long, red nails around her glass. Her disinterest in those around her had males and females alike doing everything they could to get her attention. Aisling lifted the glass of whisky to her lips and took a long drink before winking at him, even as a female Light rubbed her breasts against Aisling’s arm.
Torin hid his smile and gave a slight shake of his head. They weren’t here for fun. They were at the Sly Stag to find someone. Being out among so many Fae—both Dark and Light—was dangerous for them now. Once, the Reapers had been dismissed as monsters that Fae children’s parents used to keep them in line.
The Reapers had hidden in plain sight for centuries, walking among Fae and humans alike without anyone the wiser. When they became Reapers, they left their lives, families, and friends behind, allowing everyone to believe they had died. Secrecy was imperative. Death made sure of that because she had foreseen that some might take advantage of knowing a Reaper.
Torin finished off the last of his ale and leaned his arm on the bar as he shifted sideways to look at those behind him. This wasn’t the only Fae pub in Dublin. There were others in the heart of the tourist area where mortals walked in without realizing just what type of establishment it was.
Fae had mingled with humans since first coming to the realm. Some Fae—as well as a few Druids—had created certain places that were deemed neutral ground so the Dark and Light Fae, as well as drough and mie Druids, could mingle without fear of being attacked. The Sly Stag was such an establishment. Torin had visited it before becoming a Reaper. He hadn’t liked it then.
He didn’t like it now.
If the Fae Council came to fruition, they wouldn’t need places like the Sly Stag. Light and Dark had been getting along fine in neutrally defined pubs for eons. They could get along outside of them, too.
Well. Most could.
The bartender caught Torin’s eye and jerked his chin toward the door. Torin’s gaze fell on the Dark female as she came to a halt just after entering. Her gaze darted around quickly as if searching for someone.
Or hiding.
When she ducked into one of the back hallways, Torin knew she was hiding. From what, was the question. He slid his gaze to Aisling to find that his fellow Reaper had seen their target, as well. Torin tossed money onto the bar to pay for his drink and walked to where the Dark had gone. Aisling untangled the Light Fae from her arm and made her way toward the other hallway.
This wasn’t the first tip they had tracked down in an effort to find the Others. Fae everywhere were talking about the group, many touting that they were involved when, in fact, they weren’t.
The original Others had been comprised of a drough and mie Druid from another realm, a mie and drough Druid from Earth, and a Light and Dark Fae. The six had combined their powers to wipe out the Dragon Kings and take over Earth to claim the magic. Ultimately, the Dragon Kings had triumphed, though it had been close. The Reapers had joined in to help the Kings defeat the Others. When the Others were all gone, everyone believed the threat was over. Unfortunately, the Fae, as well as a group of Druids, were attempting to form their own factions.
Torin was ready to find the Dark female and get whatever information she had—if she had any at all. He wasn’t optimistic after so many failed missions. On top of it all, they had to keep an eye out for the Fae Others, who were most likely trying to track the Reapers and do away with them.
The hallway made a U, complete with private rooms. Light and Dark lovers often met there for dalliances they didn’t want their kind to learn about. The rooms were locked with magic, preventing anyone but those renting them from entering. Thankfully, that didn’t stop Torin and Aisling from finding their target.
Death, whose real name was Erith, was a goddess. She only had two requirements for someone to become a Reaper: they had to be skilled warriors, and each of them had to have been betrayed—the betrayals leading to their deaths or murders. Erith would come to them right before their last breath and offer them a second chance as a Reaper to do her bidding without question or fail.
Upon acceptance, Death gave a tiny portion of her power to enhance what each already had. A Fae could veil themselves for seconds at a time. A Reaper could veil themselves indefinitely. Their magic also exceeded that of any other individual Fae. The Others combined their magic, which was why the Reapers were concerned.
Erith was the judge and jury for all Fae. She decided when it was time to reap a soul, and that’s when she sent the Reapers. It was Death who kept the balance within the Fae. Disrupting that in any way could have dire consequences.
Torin waited until he was in the hallway alone before veiling himself. The Fae could teleport into the pub but not into the rooms. It was done to guarantee the privacy of those renting the spaces. However, that didn’t stop a Reaper.
He jumped into each room, searching for the target until he finally found her in the back corner. To his surprise, she was alone on the bed with her back pressed against the headboard, staring at the door as if she expected someone to come through it at any second. Her black and silver hair hung past her shoulders and draped over one side to show that the lower half was shaved. To his amusement, he spotted silver stud earrings in the shape of mushrooms. She wore a white tank top beneath an oversized dark gray sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder. The sleeves were rolled at the cuff and pushed haphazardly up both arms to reveal several bracelets on each wrist, varying from beads to silver and gold. Black jeans were tucked into knee-high biker boots, complete with silver buckles at the ankles.
She had a classic, delicate beauty that unnerved him. Her large eyes were framed with thick lashes and gently arching eyebrows. Her high cheekbones seemed to have a sheen that made them stand out even more. Her full lips were a deep mauve color. She was unbelievably stunning.
The longer Torin watched her, the deeper his frown grew, and the more rattled he became—though he couldn’t discern why. He stayed until Aisling appeared. As another added benefit of Erith’s powers, Reapers could see each other while veiled. They couldn’t, however, speak, or they would be heard.
Aisling jerked her head to the side, motioning for Torin to jump back into the hallway so they could talk. He found himself hesitating after Aisling left. Something about this Dark female didn’t sit right with him. It could be her fear. It was so obvious, he could almost reach out and touch it.
“About damn time,” Aisling said when he met her in the hallway with their veils dropped.
Torin glanced at the door that led to the room. “What do you think of her?”
“I think I’m tired of spying on people.”