“From left to right,” Danielle said, “are the Gatekeepers of the Citadel—Argent,
Corallin and Aureolin, wives of Eanan. Beside them is Aingeal, wife of Cynyr; Lea,
mate of Bevyn; Rachel, wife of Owen; Mystery, wife of Glyn and I am Danni, wife of
Arawn.”
Lucy was nervous as she greeted each of the women in turn. Her hands were
trembling, her mouth dry, but she held her head high even though every instinct told
her to slink away.
“Welcome, Lucy,” the woman identified as Aingeal said. “We are happy to have
you as one of us.”
“I wasn’t sure you would accept me,” Lucy said. She didn’t want to start her
association with these women on a false note, with a lie. It was important to her that
they accept her for who she was, not what she had been.
“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” the one called Rachel said.
“You’ll find no woman here who was without sin before she became a Reaper’s
mate,” Lea said.
“It matters not what went on before you took his hand as mate,” the one called
Mystery said. “Each of us brings our own trials and tribulations to this room, but when
we leave it, those issues remain behind.”
“Has he spoken to you of taking one of his hellions?” Lea inquired. She looked to
the other women but no one shushed her. “It is your choice, you know.”
“It can not be one of the new hellions,” Aingeal said. “But there is the one from his
first hellion that is stored in the lab.”
“There are advantages to being a Lady Reaper,” Rachel said. “I would gladly go
through it again if it was required of me, but you must make the decision for yourself.”
“True,” Danielle said. “Some of us would not have taken the hellion had it not been
thrust upon us.”
“She means me,” Lea said. “I fought it tooth and nail, but like the parasite it is, it is
beginning to grow on me.” She smiled. “Would I allow it if I had it to do over?” She
shrugged. “I honestly can’t say.”
“I would,” Aingeal said. “In a heartbeat. I love being a Lady Reaper.”
“I have asked my husband for one of his fledglings and he’s agreed,” Mystery said.
“I’m scared, but my daughter is a Lady Reaper and I know it would please Glyn.”
“His pleasure shouldn’t be the criteria,” Lea stated. “You and you alone should
make the decision, Lucy. If you want it, that’s fine. If you do not, tell him now. He will
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not force it upon you.” She looked down at her hands. “I can’t say the same for the
goddess.”
“I do want it,” Lucy said. “I believe it would make Phelan happy but we haven’t
discussed it. We haven’t had time.”
“It hurts,” Lea said. “I won’t lie to you about that. It is an ungodly pain that will
make you think you are being ripped apart. Your flesh stretches. Your bones pop and
break. The organs inside you shift and change. Fur sprouts all over you.”
“Lea,” Danielle said.
“There is no use in sugar-coating it for her, Danni,” Lea protested. “She needs to
know. The more she knows the better prepared she will be.”
“Aye, it hurts,” Aingeal said, “but think of the rewards.” She held up her hand,
doubled her fist and raised her thumb. “You have the strength of ten women.” Her
index finger came up. “You will live ten years to every one a normal person lives.” Her
middle finger popped up. “You can shapeshift to a creature that can run the fields
alongside her mate and believe me when I tell you there is no freedom quite like that.”
“You can talk to your mate even when he is thousands of miles away from you,”
Rachel said. “Your thoughts and his are always together.”
“He will be able to find you wherever you go,” Mystery said, “although that would
sometimes be a nuisance when you don’t wish to be found!”
The other women laughed, nodded at her words.
“Weigh the pros and cons then make your decision,” Danielle said. “Nothing needs
be settled today. He’s still in quarantine anyway and would want to be the one to give
you the hellion if that is what you decide you want.”
“I believe it is,” Lucy said. She looked from one face to another. “Will you walk me
through exactly what happens so I’ll be prepared?”
“If that’s what you want,” Aingeal said.
Lucy nodded. “It is. I want to be as much to Phelan as I can and as close to him as I
can.”
“There’s nothing closer than a Lady Reaper to her mate,” Rachel agreed.
“We’d like to hear too,” the beautiful silver-haired woman who was one of Lord
Eanan’s wives said. “Not that we are entertaining the notion, but it is always a
consideration.”
“Aye,” her sister Corallin agreed. “We would like to know what it is like.”
Danielle looked to Aingeal. “Aingeal, since you were the first to be given a hellion,
why don’t you start?” she asked.
“Well, it was like this…” Aingeal began.
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Two days later Fontabeau and Lucy were allowed to go down to Level One where
the medical facilities were located. It was the first time anyone other than the healers,
their staff and the Shadowlords had ventured to the room where Phelan Kiel was being
treated.
Getting into the quarantine facility proved to be more complex than either realized.
After entering one thick door into a small vestibule with well-sealed interlocking doors
so that no two could be open at the same time. Once the entry door was locked behind
them, they were shown into a second vestibule. There were told to disrobe and to drop
their clothing into a slot on the wall. Though surprised at the command, they did as
they were ordered, feeling self-conscious as they stood waiting for their guide to take
them deeper into the facility. Both were shocked when a fine mist wafted down on
them from the ceiling. While the mist was warm, it had a very unpleasant smell to it
and it coated their bodies like a fine sheen of oil.
Upon being disinfected, they were shown to still another vestibule where they were
instructed to clothe themselves in soft white gowns that covered them neck to wrist to
toe and to don strange-looking hats that molded to their heads to conceal their hair.
“This is all so strange,” Lucy said. “Unsettling too.”
“I’ve been through a quarantine process before a long time ago,” Fontabeau told
her. “I’d forgotten how depersonalized it can be.”
“But is all this necessary?” she asked.
“Apparently so. I imagine Phe is so weak they don’t dare risk him catching
something we might bring in.”
A healer opened the vestibule door and ushered them into the quarantine facility
proper. Soaring glass walls enclosed several rooms while others were shuttered with
strange-looking overlapping plates. It was to a glass-enclosed room they were shown.
Phelan was sitting up in bed though it appeared he might be sleeping. His head
was on his chest, his hands in his lap. The white cloth pajamas he wore made his flesh
look washed out.
“Phe?” Lucy questioned, and was rewarded with her mate lifting his head.
He looked so weak, so tired, his eyes bloodshot with black streaks. His hair was
tousled, but that did not detract from the handsomeness of his face. If anything it added
a boyish look that endeared him all the more to his lover.
“Hey,” he said, his voice sounding strained. He swung his legs from the bed and
padded barefoot to the glass wall. He put the palm of his hand against the glass and
Lucy placed her smaller hand over his.
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“You look tired,” she told him.
He shrugged. “I’ve been better, but at least I can get up now and walk. I was going
stir crazy in that bed. They’re keeping me here until they’re satisfied I’m completely
well and pose no danger to anyone.”
“How do you feel?” the gunman asked. His eyes were filled with worry. “You look
like you’ve lost weight.”
“I probably have. I haven’t been able to eat anything since they brought me in. I’ve
been living off Sustenance and tenerse.”
“How’s your back?” Fontabeau asked.
“Healed. The hellion has hatched enough fledglings that they are combating the
residual stuff floating around in my bloodstream. They still wear the protective suits
around me though. One drop of that shit could kill ten healers.”
“We were told we couldn’t stay long but we wanted to see you,” Fontabeau said for
them both. “Lucy was worried.”
“And you weren’t?” she countered, looking up at him.
“Not in the least,” he replied. “Phe’s a Reaper. He’s indestructible.”
“I sure as hell didn’t feel indestructible,” Phelan told him. “I wasn’t so sure I’d get
through it. That’s something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”
“It’s over and done with,” Fontabeau stated. “They said you should be out of here
by the end of the week. We’ll let you rest and come back tomorrow.”
“I miss you,” Lucy said, her lips trembling. “So much.”
“I miss you too,
mo shearc
,” Phelan replied. He flexed his hand on the glass as
though he could touch her. He wavered a bit then pressed his forehead to the glass.
“Go lie down before someone has to come in there and pick your sorry ass up off
the floor,” Fontabeau said in a stern tone. “Now, Kiel. Go lie down!”
Phelan nodded. He pushed away from the glass, walking with difficulty. By the
time he reached the bed, his visitors were gone.
“Beau?”
he mentally called out to his friend.
“Aye?”
“She looks so worried,”
he said.
“Get her mind off me.”
“You rest. I’ll see to your lady.”
No sooner was he stretched out on the bed with an arm flung over his aching eyes
than he heard tapping on the glass. He opened his eyes to peer beneath his arm. He
grinned.
“You look silly, Cree,” he said. The white gown and hat looked comical on the
muscular Reaper.
“You look like shit, Kiel,” Cynyr replied.
“I feel like shit.”
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Charlotte Boyett-Compo
“That’s a pretty mate you chose.”
“She is, isn’t she?” Phelan queried.
“Thought sure you’d bring us a male mate. You lost me money in the pool, you
know that?” Cynyr quipped.
Phelan laughed then coughed, annoyed when he hacked up specks of black blood.
He wiped his hand on the sheet.
“How are you really doing?”
“Tired and my head feels like it’s in a vise.”
“I remember the feeling all too well,” Cynyr said, having been a victim of ghoret
poisoning himself.
“I didn’t want Lucy to know how bad it is.”
Cynyr held his hand to his heart. “She won’t hear it from this wolf.”
“Any word on Iden?”
Cynyr cocked a shoulder. “Morrigunia says not to worry about him. He’s being
held prisoner.”
“By who? Or should I say by what?”
“Something or someone She’s not too concerned about, but She wants him here
before She sends the Ridge Lord after the
Nikkeson
.”
Phelan flinched, his face turning paler. “By the gods, Cyn. Is that what we’re up
against now?”
“Aye, it is,” Cynyr said. “We’re in lockdown here until Brell can send the bastard
back to Prysson. She says we’re not capable of fighting the water demon.”
“I doubt we are,” Phelan replied. “I know I’m not right now.”
Cynyr tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbled on it.
“What’s stuck in your craw, Cyn?” Phelan asked.
“I was told I couldn’t stay long but I need to talk to you, Phe.”
“Then talk. I’ll tell the healers to take a flying leap if they come in to run you out.”
Still Cynyr hesitated.
“Out with it. What’s bothering you, brother?”
The Reaper took a deep breath, speaking as it left his lungs.
“You recall awhile back when we were debating about who the greatest warriors of
all time were?”
“Aye.”
“Lesh Spiosyn was mentioned. Do you remember?”
“I remember.”
“We couldn’t remember the other man’s name but we agreed that until Spiosyn
went demonoid he and Lesh were the fiercest, most powerful warriors ever to have
drawn breath.”
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“I think I recall that, aye.”
“Do you also recall us discussing the reason a respected, revered warrior would
turn on his own people and set into motion events that would demolish his
homeworld?”
“I do remember that. Didn’t we decide he must have fallen under the spell of
something evil to…?” Phelan’s eyes widened. “The
Nikkeson
?”
“
Yn Drogh Spyrryd
,” Cynyr corrected. “The demon who unleashed the
Nikkeson
from beneath the Abyss in the first place.”
“I’ve heard of that demon. How did He manage to take Spiosyn’s soul?”
Cynyr lowered his head, looked down at his bare feet beneath the hem of the white
cotton gown. “Spiosyn bartered his soul to the demon for revenge,” he said.
“Revenge?” Phelan questioned. “For what?”
Cree was silent for a moment then raised his head, his eyes boring into Kiel’s. “The
other warrior was a boyhood friend of Spiosyn’s. They were closer than brothers. After
the Battle of Asaraba, they were given brides—the most beautiful to be found—for their
meritorious service. This other man whose name we couldn’t remember wasn’t satisfied
with the bride he was given and decided to take Spiosyn’s instead. He made her his