Page 8 of Reaper’s Curse

“I’m not pure?” I arched my eyebrow.

At the moment, the only roots I felt were the roots of skepticism and irritation.

He nodded, his lower lip puckering. “The old man…Aldine…was like the one I told you I once worked with, Bogart…and his associate. They even brought a kid with them once.” Aoes’s brow creased. “Can you believe that? Bringing a kid to this place? Before the curse, sure, but after…”

He shook his head once more. “Anyway, that was some fifteen, twenty years ago, and they were all the same. Those three, plus your old codger, were all the same. But not you. You are partially the same, yet something else is mingled with that signature. Something that I think might want to dominate. In fact, I think it’s more dominant now than it was before you went missing.”

“Something else?” My tone sounded cynical while lacking its usual conviction.

Emotions rocked through me. Emotions I didn’t want to acknowledge. Emotions I too often considered weak and pointless.

Only what else could I be other than a reaper like my so-called parents? I was ninety-nine percent certain they were my blood-given parents. I’d familiarized myself with the family line, and nothing other than reapers filled the tree.

Yet that something else Aoes claimed existed in my signature energy was supposedly growing in dominance, and nothing about that possibility sat comfortably with me.

Aoes had to be spewing bullshit.

Still…

My forehead pressed with deep consideration. What had changed in the past few days that could explain such a transformation? I’d been tortured and practically starved. Kept in subpar conditions that, at times, bordered on freezing. And…

I’d missed my daily medication dose. The lack of medication; that was definitely outside the norm. Different. I’d missed a day or two before, but not five or more.

I rubbed the back of my neck. Was that the true nature of my pills? To suppress something “other” dwelling within my energy, my DNA?

And now, that medication was missing.

Without a word to Aoes, I turned back to my room and began tearing the space apart, searching all the corners and shadows for my misplaced bottle of meds. Aoes lingered in the open doorway, continuing to shadow my movements.

I checked under the bed and behind the dresser. “If you don’t believe I am the same as Aldine, then what do you think I am?”

He rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m not exactly sure. What I see in you is similar to something I’ve seen twice in my life. Once, a very long time ago, and again briefly during Bogart’s last visit, when the kid was in tow. But even then, either time, I wasn’t sure what it was. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before.”

The twittering bell system chimed, calling Aoes to the pub below.

In five long strides, I stepped to the window and glanced out to the street below. Two palace guards on horseback stood beside two riderless steeds. The missing men likely awaited Aoes downstairs.

“It’s them.” I stepped away from the window.

He released a sigh. “In that case, you might want to disappear…being that you’re so paranoid about pretty much everything. And just in case….”

He flashed a rather wicked, challenging grin, then he turned and stalked down the stairs.

I would wait to think further on any of Aoes’s words. If the guards were here to collect Raven’s belongings, as suggested in the courier message, I needed to secure anything that identified her reaper status before they gained access to her room. Would have done so sooner, except Aoes hadn’t given me a moment alone.

Packing my stuff or Aldine’s made sense because I needed to move, and Aldine was dead. On the other hand, taking any of her belongings while in Aoes’s presence would have likely raised questions I preferred not to deal with, much less answer. Broadcasting my intentions to the pub manager was not on my to-do lists. Quite the opposite, actually.

Slipping the Killian cloak around myself—the gift from Aldine that had aided me in my escape from the underground prison—I adjusted the cape to make sure every inch of my body was covered in the invisibility magic, then I pulled the Killian key from my thigh pocket and let myself into Raven’s room.

Unlike Aldine, she had not unpacked and appeared to be living out of her messy duffel bag. Her reaper’s handbook lay beneath her pillow—careless—along with the crow clicker I’d witnessed her use.

I collected both and quickly scanned the contents of her bag. A small notebook, a change of daily reaper wear, comfortable sleeping attire, and—my breath stalled—lacy underthings.

My touch lingered a fraction of a second too long on those underthings, sliding the fabric between my fingers.

I couldn’t stop myself from envisioning her in the soft items beneath my caress.

Does she really wear these things underneath her reaper gear?