Chapter 22: Chapter 22
Nat looked around the room at the shambles of his team. He used that word loosely since, like most Reapers, they really had no loyalty to him or anyone else. They were here out of a last-ditch effort at self-preservation, and that hadn’t quite gone as hoped.
Raven was sprawled on a sofa near the window, which he would’ve thought odd if she were conscious since she normally hated the light. The bright sunshine streamed in, making her dark hair seem almost purple. She hadn’t been fully awake for more than a few minutes since they’d brought her here, earlier this morning. She had at least a few broken bones as well as a concussion. Nat would’ve felt badly for her if he were capable of caring about anyone else at all, which he’d accepted a long time ago would never be the case.
While most people would die to have an apartment in the Dakota, Nat would’ve killed to stay out of here. Unfortunately, he hadn’t killed enough Keepers—or any, for that matter, in their last engagement—and now his favorite place, the portal at Reaper’s Hollow, was permanently out-of-reach.
The view out the window was breathtaking by human standards, but it was nothing compared to his palace in the portal, where he could create whatever scenery he liked and would often watch warring dragons or villagers being stomped down by monsters. Somehow, Central Park wasn’t as enticing.
Raven would recover, eventually. It would’ve helped if they’d taken her to the emergency room, but there was no explaining her fractured skull and ribs, all of the lacerations and burns, without arousing suspicion, and while he had never feared human authorities, there was no sense dealing with that now. They’d called in a medicine woman to treat her, and when she’d left a few hours ago, she said give it a week. Or two. Not bad for all of the trauma Raven’s body had been through.
A few of the others had broken bones or wounds that had required stitches. Luckily, the only part of Nat that had been scathed was his ego. But if he didn’t find a way to handle Rune, soon, this was nothing compared to what his father would do to him. Letting out a sigh, Nat ran a hand through his hair and stepped away from the window. Unless he happened to see a mugging or murder, there was no use peering out at the New Yorkers.
He took a seat across the room, listening to Raven’s ragged breathing. Another Reaper, a younger man, almost a child, Nat admitted, by the name of Striker, sat on another couch nearby, messing with the ace bandage wrapped around his broken arm. He’d have to go without a cast, but since Reapers could heal more quickly than humans, he was sure it would be fine. Next to him, Char sat with a bandage around her head. He realized they’d both survived because they were among the best he had, which didn’t seem to be saying much. Four more slept in adjoining bedrooms making their total casualties about fifty percent.
“What do we do now?” Char asked quietly, as if she didn’t want to disturb Raven. “Regroup? Invade?”
“I say we leave her the hell alone,” Striker muttered. “That bitch is… psycho.”
Nat raised an eyebrow, studying the young imbecile and wishing he was close enough to show Striker what it meant to be struck. “We wait for more troops and for the Keepers to let us know they’ve found another portal.”
“What if they don’t tell us?” Char asked, her black, spiky hair dancing as she shook her head. “I mean, what if they move and we don’t know it? We’re not there anymore, where we can see.”
“I still have eyes there,” Nat replied. Creepers, filthy little creatures he despised, not quite demons or rodents but somewhere in between, made perfect spies, and there were still plenty of them littered around the woods in Reaper’s Hollow. Not to mention the demon population hadn’t diminished any just because Nat had to find new quarters. While he could’ve found a house closer by, being near Rune wasn’t a good idea right now, not when he was plotting her demise. The thought of killing her should’ve excited him, but instead, it made him feel hollow inside, like Ru’s death would cause him to lose part of himself, which was a foreign thought to him. Not caring about what happened to anyone at all, not even his own mother, was such a constant, he wasn’t sure if he’d even recognize having actual feelings for another person. Could that be what this strange sensation might be whenever he thought of ending Ru?
“I still think it’s a bad idea,” Char said. “I think we should just go ahead and get our troops to the portals and wait.”
“There are plenty of Reapers and demons at each location, I assure you,” Nat replied, growing more and more annoyed at both of them. “The problem is that, when Ru strikes, I have to be there. I need to be there.” To end her. He didn’t add the last thought aloud. It was understood. Besides, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
“Well, I’d rather not be,” Striker muttered.
“Keep it up, and you won’t be!” Nat pulled himself out of the chair and headed for his own bedroom, done with the discussion. He needed to be alone if he was going to figure out how to handle the situation with Ru. Resisting the urge to slam the door, he shut it quietly and then fell onto the large four-poster bed. This apartment had been in his family for as long as the Dakota had been in existence. His father had acquired it back when he made the Earthly world more of a priority. New York happened to be the place where his parents had met. His mother was nearby, but he wouldn’t go visit her. He didn’t even think about her anymore. She’d given him away, after all, to be raised by his demon father. That was reason enough to forget her.
Forgetting Rune wasn’t that simple, however. He’d reminded her the other night in the forest of the connection they had together, and her eyes immediately flew to Cutter, as if they also had a bond. But he could feel Rune’s energy in a way he’d never experienced before. He’d been with many women, both human and Reapers, and none of them had ever meant anything to him. He was slowly starting to realize Rune was the exception, and the thought was both exciting and revolting at the same time. If he was honest with himself, he could no longer deny that he had feelings for the woman. For weeks, he’d been attempting to convince himself that it was because of the ruse he’d pulled with Kyle. But lying on his bed alone with his own thoughts, he remembered reaching for her on the battlefield to pull her out of harm’s way, and then afterward, stroking her cheek as he beckoned her to join him. It hadn’t just been an attempt to talk her into joining their side, as much as he hated to admit it.
Closing the portal had changed everything. She was his sworn enemy now, for certain. Before she’d destroyed the portal, there was still hope of swaying her. Now, there was nothing he could do to spare her. Azrael had insisted she must die. If his father had the authority to actually write her name in his magical book, he’d do it. Unfortunately for him, that was not a power he had; only God could do it. Which is why he sent his Reapers after unmarked souls—to play God himself. Not only was Nat his son, he was also his most loyal Reaper. Until now. Suddenly, there were thoughts of doubt in his mind. How could he possibly stand across from Rune Ronobes on the battlefield and bring her brief life to an end?
Despite the fact that it was only late afternoon and the sun was streaming in his open bedroom window, Nat closed his eyes, hoping to find clarity, hoping to find a way to destroy the only thing he’d ever loved.