The Dark Calling (The Arcana Chronicles #5)(103)

He shrugged.

Not the answer I was looking for. “You made that haze sound like some kind of a drug. Life in there was simpler, remember? Being out here is crippling. Do you feel a pull to it? What if you just walked right in?”

“If I felt a pull, I would slit my own throat. Hear me, mortal, I will never again be taken by that sphere.” Even as he said this for the umpteenth time, his gaze kept straying to the light. His eyes began to glitter. “A thought has just entered my mind. An idea.”

He turned that starry gaze toward me, and chills raced up my back. “Reaper?”





49


The Hanged Man Day 587 A.F.





He’s mine once more!

Death was back in the fold. My sphere had lured him back in.

Through a frosted windowpane in the study, I watched him exit a truck in the courtyard. He yanked a bound Empress from the cab.

“I hate you!” she screamed at the Reaper. “I knew this would happen!” Her eyes were red, her face pale. She shook uncontrollably in the falling snow.

Was she still pregnant? I couldn’t tell with her coat. Despite her fury, her glyphs were dim, and her hair remained blond. She must be tapped out from fighting the armored knight. Not that she’d had much in the way of abilities even months ago.

Death’s recapture was so predictable; he must have wanted it to happen. His leaving had been a blow to my sizable ego. Without my immortal henchman, I’d felt vulnerable, taking steps to protect myself. But now his card was in my hand once more. I smirked, victorious.

When Gabe landed in front of him, I cracked open the window to eavesdrop.

“Hail, Reaper. I am glad to see you’ve once again found clarity.”

Death gave an arrogant chin jerk in greeting. This time around, I would do more to curb that arrogance. No longer would I tolerate being called a little man.

Gabe asked, “Where is your mount?”

“Lost.”

“I see. The Chariot and the Tower?”

Ah, yes—where had Kentarch and Joules gotten to? I was greedy for more fuel for my sphere.

“Be on watch for them.”

Gabriel nodded. “And the hunter?”

Evie cried, “Jack’s dead!” She turned on Death, beating his armored chest with her bound hands. “How could you? He trusted you, and you struck him down!”

So sublimely satisfying. Not only was this a win for my alliance, Death had yet again fed her a dish of betrayal, killing her first love.

Speaking of alliances . . . my gaze shifted past them to the menagerie. Where was Fauna? Probably sleeping, even through this disturbance.

“I’ll kill you for what you did!” Evie spat at Death. “I told you we were too close to the sphere—”

“Silence!” he ordered.

Gabriel asked him, “What are you going to do with her?”

He answered, “A gift.” I love gifts.

“The Hanged Man is in the study.”

“Very good.” Death yanked on Evie’s bonds. With a cry, she went careening along behind him.

Gabriel took flight, beginning his watch. Backdraft from his wings turned the courtyard into a snow globe.

I hurried from the window to the desk I’d commandeered from Death. Taking a seat, I opened a drawer. Beside my new weapon was the Empress’s cilice.

Death’s spurs clinked in the hallway as he made his way to me. I liked it here in his former office. The temperature was brutal outside; inside, the fire radiated heat. I propped up my feet on my desk and ran my fingers over the barbs on the cilice.

Death entered, posture erect, black armor gleaming. A terrifying vision.

I rose, cilice in hand. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

“A gift,” he said in his raspy voice.

And what a gift she was! “My thanks, Reaper.”

“Aric, what are you going to let him do to me?” Evie clasped her bound hands together. “Snap out of this. I’m begging you.”

“Silence!” Death yanked on the rope, causing her to totter, then handed me the end.

With a smile, I accepted it, reeling her closer. With my other hand, I raised the cilice.

She paled even more. “Get that thing away from me, you freak!”

“We’ll have to amputate a good part of your arm to get this back into place, but your flesh will regenerate. Cooperate, and Death won’t take your head. For now.”

Eyes glassy with rage, she said, “I’m warning you, Hanged Man. You don’t want to do this to me.” Was her hair beginning to turn red? Her glyphs emitted light!

I whipped my head up to the knight. “There’s still some fight left in her.” She couldn’t harm me, but she might be able to poison Death. “Do something!”

“Like what?” he sneered with such contempt that his very voice sounded different.

I scowled. “Knock her out so I can get this cilice on her—”

“That’s not the boss!” Lark’s scream carried from the menagerie.

My stomach dropped as I gazed upon this armored stranger. Then who was towering over me, drawing his sword . . . ?





50


Death





Our ruse was up.