13. Raven #2
“Think.” He slammed his pointer finger to the side of my skull. “The answers have to be jumbled up somewhere in that messy head of yours.”
Red flashed across my vision as I gritted teeth and swept his finger aside. “Don’t ever do that again.”
I was so close. So very, very close.
His gaze narrowed. “Did they send you because you’re expendable?”
My ears buzzed. Heart pounded. Temperature rose. I chose not to respond, but intensified my stare upon his annoying face…and too-straight nose.
No trick of the lighting played upon the line of his nose while we were outside in the full sun. So then why did his nose sometimes look different? Was he wearing a mask that he didn’t always pull properly into place?
Something inside of me edged me to break it, rather permanently, right here, right now, to make sure it remained crooked.
“You know…” His attention skipped over the outline of guards, and when he returned his glare upon me, he lowered his voice.
“You’re not the first Gunn I’ve known. The reaper I worked with was a Badden by name, but she surely had Gunn blood running in her veins.
The blending of the family names had been an attempt to bring an end to the feuding.
Didn’t work out so well, did it? Tell me the truth, girl.
The Gunn and Badden families are a scythe’s length from destroying each other, aren’t they? ”
Girl? I was not a girl. I’d stepped out of girlhood long ago. My nostrils flared, but I didn’t chance an answer, nor a move, for should I lessen my control a fraction, I might end up hitting him. Or worse.
“That branch of the families cracked and turned to ash.” A grim smile pulled at his lips.
“From what I hear, the Badden family weathered that disaster. But the Gunns…well…” His smile grew wider, more wicked.
“Word has it, your daddy had to breed the strength back into the blood. Your momma… Now, she’s a top-quality breeder, isn’t she? So, what does that make you?”
That’s it.
My control snapped. Clearly, Valen held knowledge to which I needed to be privy, but right then, with what he’d said…
Fury exploded in my veins. My feet shifted, bracing my stance, and my arm swung into motion.
Before my fist could satisfyingly slam into his infuriating smirk, an invisible hold clamped around my wrist, and the surrounding world came to a grinding halt. Everyone froze in a single moment. The moment right before the skin of my knuckles connected with the flesh of his cheek.
Everything visible stood immobile…except for me, who remained fully aware and able to move…aside from my arm, which was held firmly in place, a weight clamped around it.
What the…
The Killian materialized beside me, his grip tight around my wrist.
I jerked. Might have fallen onto my butt had it not been for his hold. His condescending glare raised the hairs on the back of my neck and set my nerves to tingle, to burn.
“Reaping hell,” I yelped.
Every vibe radiating off the Killian seethed. “This is not the fight you wish to pick. Not today. This one is not as he appears.”
I yanked my wrist free from his hold, taking note of his strength. He had released me willingly. Otherwise, he’d still hold me captive.
“Did you hear what he said? About my mother?”
The Killian’s shoulders relaxed, and he released a short laugh. He reaping laughed! “Your mother is above his jeers, just as you should be.”
As if moving without my expressed approval, my feet yanked me a step back, away from the reaper of reapers.
I swiftly scanned the surrounding scene. “What have you done? Why is everything frozen?”
Not only did the people and few visible animals appear like mannequins, unmoving and stuck, but the flap of canvas awnings, the flight of birds, the pouring of grain, absolutely everything held still. As if time had stopped, and with it, all of existence…except me and the Killian.
“It’s temporary,” he said, snagging my wrist in his grip once more. “We must move before life resumes.”
He dragged me from the circle of guards and Valen’s presence. I struggled against his pull, but he was strong and his clamp like iron. My feet slid upon the stone streets, gliding over and crushing tiny pebbles.
He towed me from the scene, then the street, around a corner, then several more streets and corners before releasing me, squaring off to face me.
The Killian had taken us to a deserted street circle.
We stood in the center of the empty road, surrounded by buildings, separated only by the five archways splintering into converging avenues.
I spun, taking in the walls, the closed-off windows set in those walls, the five avenue exits, and the open heavy gates that could easily be used to close off the circle. Finally, I assessed the Killian.
“What do you want?” I pressed my fingers to my chest, against the war surging inside of me.
Sweat dappled my brow, and I…I felt like a trapped animal. Where was that feeling coming from? I darted my gaze left, then right, seeking an escape—physically, emotionally, both.
The Killian straightened his shoulders and locked a tight stare upon me. “Remember what I said to you before? That you are to—”
“Yeah, yeah.” My nerves felt jittery, my patience strung too tight. “I owe you. Come when you call. I remember.” I brushed my hands along the sides of my head, pushing loose hairs from my face and applying pressure to my temples. “But why are you here now? What is it you want from me now?”
The Killian’s lips pulled into an ungodly grin. “I want the little reaper in front of me to die.”
The sky darkened and filled with an ear-buzzing whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
I stumbled back a step as my thoughts blinked blank, and my shoulders slumped. He was talking about me.
“You want what? But I thought… When you came before…you didn’t…”
He heaved a breath and crossed his arms. “It wasn’t time before. But now… Now will do.” He lifted his nose and sniffed the air. “Yes. Now is a good time for a reaper’s death.”
No.
No was the only thought that shot through my mind a second before fury exploded, taking over all my senses, my body breaking into action of its own accord.
I lunged at the Killian, ready and eager for bloodshed.