Chapter 22
The Harlem reaper lair welcomed Elise and Celie with much less malice than Elise had been anticipating. Every other time Elise had visited in the previous weeks, threats had been doled out and blood had soaked every surface. She wondered how her visit would fare this time.
“How did they take to you wanting to come back?” Elise asked quietly.
The young reaper shrugged, her fangs worrying her lower lip.
“Julius wasn’t here when I came last night.
The others seemed fine with it, but Julius…
no one is allowed to have their own opinions when he’s around.
” She stopped at the entrance of the cathedral, peering into the window.
“I’m glad you feel like you can trust me enough to help you here…
but maybe you shouldn’t. I can’t really even fight,” she muttered.
Elise watched the shifting shadows of reapers beyond. “I only need to get inside,” she barely managed to huff out before the door swung open.
A young reaper with brown skin and a charming smile met her on the other side.
“A Saint…who is still alive despite my best efforts. To what do I owe this pleasure? Or trap?” A few reapers moved behind him, curiosity looming in their shadowed eyes.
The cathedral continued to be lit by candlelight, the faint flickers and dated velvet furniture among tall painted ceilings maintaining its vintage appearance.
Celie gave the reaper a smile so bright, it might have been genuine. “It’s nice to see you again, Julius. I brought—”
“I assume you got word about Elise Saint’s value.
She is the talk of the town now, not just in human circles, but also reaper.
” He gave her a tight smile, then turned to Elise.
All feigned mirth fell away while his gaze roamed her stance, his eyes growing dark with resentment.
“Unless you are here to turn yourself in for the crimes against my clan, I do not wish to see you. We will give you a head start to run, of course; the chase is part of the fun when hunting.”
Elise lifted her chin. “I am here to turn myself over to you, Julius.”
A sinister smile spread across Julius’s face.
“Living in a place as debauched as New York, I have learned things, Miss Saint. Reapers hiding in dance halls, waiting for drunk partygoers to stumble into the darkness so they can drain them dry, gangsters sliding bloodstained money to politicians so they look the other way, people drowning their worries in alcohol that hurts more than it feels good—I can spot a lie from a mile away.” He paused in the foyer, his voice going hard.
“There are still reapers going missing and succumbing to the effects of karma. And you are running around with a reaper who betrayed my clan. So I will give you one more chance, Miss Saint, to tell me the truth. Why are you here?”
Elise blinked. She knew if she hesitated for too long and let his words sink in, fear would become her enemy. So she scoffed a bit, smiling. “I am not here because of Layla if that is why you are concerned.”
“My concern is you being a Saint. Miss Saint,” Julius bit out. He shooed a few reapers from a nearby couch, then threw himself onto it, lounging against the gold cushions while he stared up at Elise.
“Please don’t call me that,” Elise quipped.
Celie sucked in a sharp breath while Julius lifted a brow. “Oh? Have you somehow divorced yourself from your family? Name included?”
Elise opened her mouth to respond, but Julius continued.
“I do not appreciate your tone. Is it all Saints who are like this, or is it just a problem with the women? Your father, surprisingly, was very polite to me. Now, we’ve only met once, but for a man who is so hell-bent on eradicating my kind, he really knew how to turn on the charm for a half dead beast like me.
” Julius nodded slowly. “You could learn a few things from him, Elise. Perhaps it’s not such a good idea for you to denounce your position as his heir. ”
Irritation grated on Elise’s nerves so violently, her body felt as if it had gone aflame. She clenched her jaw with enough strength to cause pain, and when she spoke, there was nothing but venom in her voice. “You think you know my father better than me?”
Celie stepped forward, lifting her hands in surrender. “I believe we’re getting sidetracked now. Why don’t we just stick to our original plan?”
“No, I’d like to hear Miss Saint’s choice words for me.
She’s come into my home and has shown me more disrespect than kindness.
” Julius stood up, clasping his hands before him as he stepped closer to Elise.
“Once again, you are in my home. You are a mere guest in this lair, and should the reapers decide to make a blood meal out of you, I will allow it. Many of them have yet to recover from your family’s relentless attacks.
” The older reaper stood so close to Elise now, she could see the white scars on his face and throat.
Though faded with age, they appeared no less brutal, serving as proof of his survival abilities.
Other reapers cowered around the area. They stood far enough back to not interrupt Elise and Celie’s conquest, but close enough for Elise to see their obvious distress. Some hid behind one another, whispering back and forth, while others began scurrying off to more distant parts of the cathedral.
The place ran on fear and pure apprehension. Julius had no authority besides moralized harm.
Elise understood why Karine wanted him dead.
She shifted on her feet, feeling the weight of the gun against her hip.
Julius’s threat still hung between them, and Elise felt more determined than ever to execute her plan.
“I know the danger of reapers, Julius. Multiple members of my family have been killed by them. While I understand your reluctance to trust me, I implore you to consider the state of this neighborhood and what would happen if we continued to work against each other.”
Julius’s jaw hardened. “What are you insinuating?”
“Elise,” Celie warned.
Elise ignored him. “A truce. Not on behalf of the Saints, but on behalf of the countless innocent people who have been caught in the crossfire of this never-ending war between reapers, Saints, and gangsters. I don’t have any viable power anymore, but I can get you protection from the greater forces that threaten your kind.
Maybe together we can stop the beast that’s hunting all of us. ”
“Why would I trust a Saint?” Julius asked, unimpressed.
Elise crossed her arms. “Half your clan has been eradicated, Julius. You will not last much longer against the beast without our weapons.”
A slow smile spread across Julius’s face. “You bargain just like your father.” He spread his hands by his sides, gesturing to the cathedral around them. “I would be happy to make a deal with you if you offer me one thing.”
“What?” Elise asked.
Julius leaned in, his finger catching one of her stray curls and twisting it until it sprang back against her cheek. “A blood bond between you and me.” So I can track your every move and feeling. He did not have to say the words for Elise to know why he wanted the bond.
Everything about this seemed like a bad idea, but all Elise had to do was get close enough before she could act on her plans. Gaining his trust was her best option. No matter how much her spine tingled with unease and her gut twisted with apprehension, Elise nodded anyway. “Okay.”
***
Music pounded through Layla’s bones, and for the first time in ages, she did not feel compelled to dance. Her narrow escape from Karine had only been possible due to promising the ancient reaper Elise’s capture and containment. So her hunt continued.
She watched a young Black man lean against the outside wall of the Renny and lift a cigarette to his mouth.
Smoke swirled around his face, drifting into the street to intermingle with the chaos of West 133rd Street.
Swing Street—or Jungle Alley—as some called it, had become something of a spectacle over the past few years.
Prohibition had gangsters opening speakeasies in and between the dozens of jazz clubs and cabarets lining the streets.
Tassel and sequin dresses shimmered against the night as women, giggling and delightfully intoxicated, decided where to go next.
Men tipped their hats at the passing groups, some trying to entice them to enter the clubs.
Various forms of music exploded into the night air, creating a bright cacophony of sound.
Layla pressed farther into the alley wall by the Nest Club.
Blood still coated her body, and the final stages of the healing process consumed her wrist. Harlem had grown dark enough that few rational, life-loving humans chanced roaming the streets, allowing her to walk around the quieter parts of town without being stopped for her disheveled state.
The worst part of the journey was the excruciatingly slow pace at which her arm healed.
It no longer throbbed, but it remained puffy and felt as if someone had stuffed cotton between her flesh and her bone.
The man she had been watching dropped his cigarette when a familiar face emerged from the nearby doors.
One of Julius’s companions. They were far enough away that Layla couldn’t hear the words being exchanged between them, but she crept closer again, ready to intercept them if only to beat some answers out of them.