The Reapers (The Hunted Series Book 1) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Coming Soon

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Untitled Document

  Copyright © 2016, Ali Winters

  All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews or articles.

  Published May 2016 by Sapphire Press

  www.sapphire-press.com

  Cover design by Amygdala Art

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  www.aliwinters.com

  To Konstanz, who encouraged and cheered me on through every part of this story, from the beginning seed of an idea to the last word.

  One

  Nivian

  A lone figure stood out on a bridge along a cold stretch of highway. The river’s gentle current splashed softly along the riverbank below. Bright stars twinkled between patches of clouds, and a light dusting of snow began to fall. A soft breeze pushed the clouds across the sky. The glow from the full moon gleamed on the frosty earth below. The eerie glow illuminated her platinum blonde hair. A half-mile up the road, a car swerved, speeding toward the bridge.

  “Drunk and right on cue,” Nivian muttered to herself and rolled her eyes at how cliché her mark was.

  She glanced over her shoulder and waved her hand. A thick sheet of ice formed on the deck of the bridge. The railing immediately rusted, groaning under the weight of the structure as it became weak and brittle. The car sped faster toward the figure, now only a quarter-mile away.

  It’s time. Nivian pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, shielding her from the driver’s sight. The tires screeched, as they hit the slick surface of the road, skidding. He slammed on the brakes, immediately losing control.

  CRASH!

  The car smashed against the guardrail, plunged through the rusted metal, and fell into the freezing river below. With a splash, the car hit the water, the driver’s head struck the side window with a violent crack, knocking him unconscious. Water quickly invaded the car, pushing out the last of the air.

  She pulled her hood down to examine her work. The light breeze swirled, pushing Nivian’s long tresses across her face.

  “Nivi, you are such a show-off,” a familiar voice teased behind her.

  “Oh, I don’t know, Cami. I think I was off just a smidge.” Nivian turned to her friend, grinning. “Too much splash.” She leaned her hip against the railing.

  Nivian continued to look down at the river below and knew without looking at her friend, that Camira wore a smirk on her face.

  Camira walked up to Nivian and looked over the railing of the bridge at the slowly sinking car. Pockets of air bubbled up to the surface. A grin formed on Nivian’s lips, as she pretended to examine and buff her nails on her cloak in mock pride.

  She had known Camira for as long as she could remember. Nivian glanced at her friend out of the corner of her eye. Camira’s curly mid-length hair flowed out in soft golden-brown waves behind her. The warm, umber eyes that usually matched were dark tonight. Her smile not reaching them.

  Camira rolled her eyes, shook her head, and pulled herself up on the railing to sit, swinging her legs. “You have a big head. You know that, right?” Nivian nodded, as Camira’s grin faded, and her face turned serious. “Anyway, Caspian sent me to let you know he has another job for you. He wants you to go pick it up tonight.”

  “Another one?”

  Camira looked down. “Yeah, Caspian has been piling them on lately.”

  “It seems to be that season.” Nivian shrugged dismissively. “I’d better get to work.”

  Nivian leaped over the edge of the bridge and landed with a soft tap on the surface of the water. She reached down, pulled the soul of the driver up by the collar of his shirt, and stood him up next to her on top of the water. She took the driver’s hand, palm up, in hers and waved her other hand over his. Pinching the air, she pulled and lifted up to expose his life thread. His wide eyes stared unblinking, hypnotized by the glowing string of light. Nivian reached behind her and grabbed the scythe strapped to her back, and swung. With a slow, deliberate movement, Nivian sliced the human’s life thread. The light formed into a ball and hovered between them. She pulled out a small pocket watch and guided the life energy down to the watch. It sunk into it and disappeared. She snapped the watch closed and returned it to her pocket.

  “You should know better than to drink and drive. You could’ve seriously hurt someone.”

  He gaped at her, his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

  “Yes, you really are dead,” she confirmed and gave him an apathetic look as she turned away.

  “Are you … the devil?” he managed to sputter.

  “No, of course not. I am just the natural order of things,” she said, looking back over her shoulder. “Wait here. Your spirit counselor will be here soon to guide you to your afterlife. I have other jobs tonight.” She spun on her heel and walked away, as she pulled her hood back up over her head and vanished.

  Nivian transported to just outside the gates of the Graceful Reaping Inc. Management Headquarters, or G.R.I.M. Headquarters. The building was a single large tower, which shot up over twenty-six stories high and ended in a point. The door stood fifteen-feet high and made of obsidian glass with facets cut into the surface. Smaller windows lined the front center of the building until they reached the top floor, where a single room with three large, arched windows looked out over Mophar. Tall golden gypsum crystals lined the sides of the dark, gothic building, reflecting the early morning light.

  G.R.I.M. Headquarters sat on the edge of the precipice of Edrathli, surrounding all of Mophar. The precipice had depths as infinite as time itself, but it was impossible to know by looking at it. A thick layer of silver fog glittered, as though made from millions of crushed diamonds. The mist filled it to overflowing and gently slid in and out like waves of the ocean, blurring the edges of the cliff. Behind her stood the thick Forest of Ari; the dark purple trees and red mosses glowed with a soft pale light. The sky was a perpetual morning, with the burning reds and oranges of a sunrise just seconds before the sun broke the horizon line, and lavender clouds scattered across the sky.

  Nivian walked through the black and silver arch that provided the only entry into the gates of the center of operations for all reapers. Columns seventeen feet high with flying arches made of
flawless obsidian lined the path leading to the massive tower. The ancient arches were one of her favorite features and goose bumps traveled up her arms, as she walked under them. Each column had intricate carvings telling the history of the Reapers. Nivian walked down the long corridor to the Great Hall. The floors were solid black marble, perfectly shinning, they reflected the warm, soft light. It took her breath away. She loved to take her time, as she walked through the corridor. She admired the carvings, telling the history of how, at the dawn of time, the fates created the Tome of Fate, brought forth the reapers, and gave them their scythes.

  Nivian scaled the tall flight of stairs to Caspian’s office. She knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” a deep voice called from the other side.

  Nivian pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside. Caspian sat behind a massive desk, the Tome of Fate sat open before him, the words swirled and formed on the pages in front of him. He had his long black hair pulled neatly back into a ponytail tied at the base of his neck. He closed the book and glanced up.

  “Nivian.” His black eyes sparkled, a hint of a smile played on his lips.

  “My Lord,” Nivian bowed deeply on one knee, “I am ready for my next assignment.”

  Caspian stood and walked over to the small reaper. He smiled down at her and lifted her up. He tilted her chin with his knuckle, and met her icy blue gaze. “Nivi, I’ve told you a thousand times, there is no need to be so formal with me.”

  “Yes, Caspian.” Nivian lowered her eyes and stepped back.

  The corner of his mouth lifted, as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Here is my last mark,” she said, retrieving the small watch out of her pocket. She held it up to Caspian, keeping her gaze locked firmly on the ground. After all this time, she was still timid any time he teased her.

  Abruptly, he took a step back and rounded his desk. “Excellent work, Nivian, as always.” He reopened the Tome and scanned the page with his finger. After he had found what he needed, he wrote a name down on a small slip of paper and held it out to her. “Now, here is your next assignment. One week’s time should be sufficient.”

  She reached out to take the slip of paper, pausing when he held on. “Let me know when it has been completed,” he added softly, leaning in close. Her eyes grew wide, as she finally lifted her gaze to meet his. They pulled at her with the gravity of a black hole. Mesmerized, she felt herself fall into them, slowly drawn into their dark depths.

  “Ooooh, Caspiaaaan!” Camira sang, as she bounded into the room. She stopped short at the sight of them standing so close. Caspian let go of the paper and hastily drew his hand away, as Nivian jerked back, shaking her head, his spell over her broken. She stepped back and leaned against the embedded bookcase, sucking in a few slow, deep breaths. She still felt too close to him.

  Camira gaped openly at Nivian, who had turned away to hide her face from her friend’s questioning gaze.

  Caspian took a step back and casually leaned a hip against the desk, crossing his arms. “What can I do for you tonight, Camira?” His tone was flat, civil, and anything but warm. His question brought Camira’s eyes to his face.

  “My mark.” She handed over the watch proudly, her fingers lingered over his. “I was able to finish early.”

  “Thank you, Camira. I will have your next assignment ready for you in a few days’ time.” He dismissed her and turned his attention back to Nivian, who had her back to both of them as she pretended to study the titles on the bookcase. So intent on trying to ignore the tension in the room, Nivian missed the hurt look on Camira’s face as she whipped her head around and stormed out of the room. Caspian stepped close to Nivian once more and lifted his hand in a familiar gesture and absent-mindedly played with a lock of hair.

  Caspian looked down at Nivian. “Let me know when you finish with this mark,” he said and took a step back. He rounded his desk and sat down. Nivian nodded and turned to leave.

  “And, Nivian?” he added.

  “Yes, Caspian?” She bit her lip and looked back.

  “This mark has a presence about her. Watch carefully, and please, come to me if you need… anything.” His mouth held a hint of a smile, but the tension around his eyes betrayed his lighthearted manner.

  “I will, my Lor—” He raised an eyebrow, stopping her. “Caspian,” she corrected herself, returning his smile timidly before she turned to leave. Glancing back, she saw him watching her, amusement flickering in his eyes. He always had a relaxed and casual air in her presence. Mixed emotions surged through her; he always teased her affectionately. She didn’t mind, except it made her feel as though she had missed something important.

  She appeared in the alleyway next to her apartment building. Nivian threw back her hood and ran her hands through her hair, the silver locks darkened to a rich auburn. Her hair shortened from its natural, straight, waist-length to a wavy, chocolate-brown with golden caramel highlights that fell to the middle of her back. Her ice blue eyes shifted to a rich dark brown. Removing her cloak, she draped it over one arm and revealed dark fitted jeans and a black tank top: her usual reaping attire. The scythe she wore strapped to her back shrank from its six-foot length to the size of a pen. She fished the key to her apartment out of her front pocket after shoving the scythe pen in her back pocket.

  “What a long day,” she muttered. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned as she trudged up the steps to the main entrance. Nivian punched in the code to the lobby door and jogged up the stairs to her small apartment on the top floor.

  At this moment, she wanted nothing more than to take a long hot shower and crawl into bed. Her days had slowly grown longer. Caspian had assigned more and more marks recently. In the past, the reapings had always been given at a steady pace, with days between assignments, but now, every time she turned around, she had another mark. It seemed odd how they picked up in frequency.

  Caspian had acted differently tonight. It was difficult for Nivian to pinpoint precisely what had changed in his demeanor, but when he smiled, she could see the tension surrounding his eyes. Sure, he still teased her, but she could tell something bothered him. She had known him for millennia and could always tell when something was stirring underneath the surface. No, if something had changed, others would have noticed. Silas would have noticed, as well. Nivian shook her head and dismissed that train of thought. Exhaustion set in and it caused her to read too much into things.

  She took her assignment out and read the slip of paper. Nivian wrinkled her forehead. This mark didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary, just some Plain Jane busybody lawyer. It should be easy enough, and only required a few days, rather than the standard week to create a setup for her. She didn’t understand why Caspian worried about it. Crumpling up the slip into a tight ball in both hands, Nivian concentrated. The energy built up. Her powers compressed and merged with the mark’s energy signature, and bound them together. The mark's fate was sealed. When she opened her hands, instead of the note with the mark’s name, she held a small pocket watch ticking quietly.

  Nivian set it down on the small night table in the corner next to her bed. She would worry about her mark in the morning. For now, all she wanted to think about was a long hot shower and curling up under her soft blankets in her nice warm bed.

  Two

  Nivian

  Nivian stood in the middle of the busy intersection, cars zoomed past, unaware of her presence. She removed her hood, pulled out the pocket watch, and opened it. The time ticking down until the moment her mark would be at her final destination. The hands of the timepiece spun in a full circle—once in each direction—before resuming its usual ticking.

  “That’s odd,” Nivian whispered to herself. She shrugged it off and concentrated on her assignment. With a wave of her hand, a thin layer of black ice formed in patches on the corner of the street in front of a small café. The ice climbed onto the curb and spread.

  Cassandra Hatfield talked loudly on her cell phone and rudely
shouldered past groups of people. The woman had just made partner at her law firm and let everyone know she was extremely busy. From the way she pushed people out of her way, it was clear to Nivian that she had a high sense of self-importance. Unknowingly, the woman hurried closer to the intersection where her reaper stood.

  Kain

  Kain Evers sat at a two-person table outside a cozy cafe and enjoyed the pace of the morning rush. Taking a sip his coffee, he watched the throngs of people race forward with their heads down trying to get to work just a few seconds faster than the person next to them. He ran his hand through his hair and pushed the chestnut-colored strands out of his eyes. Each morning on his way to work he would stop by the same café to watch the city pass by. A morning ritual of his that he kept to remind him to stop and take the time to enjoy life’s little moments. Even in a city so large, he found it too easy to be alone.

  As Kain lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, a young woman caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. She stood in the middle of the intersection, the black cloak she wore whipped around her legs. There was something out of the ordinary about her—besides just her outfit. His features clouded over in confusion.

  Why is she standing in the middle of an intersection, and why isn’t anyone stopping for her? He wondered. He set down his coffee and stood. Slowly he made his way through the crowd; his eyes firmly locked on her. Kain reached the curb and opened his mouth to call out to her. He stopped short as she raised her hand and waved it at the lights. His eyes followed her movements and watched as they changed from green, to yellow, to red.

  His eyes connected with icy blue ones. And for a brief moment time slowed down, their eyes locked, he was unable to look away. The girl’s face went from a calm, stoic expression to confusion. Something in her stance had changed, he couldn’t tell for sure what it was, but he felt it when the figure narrowed her eyes the longer they watched each other.