Page 3 of The Reaper's Vice

And not just any dead bodies—corpses of the Table Members. Their bird masks are still strapped to their faces, but the brilliant gold hue is dimmed greatly by the blood and filth spattered across the impressive beaks.

Who… who could have done something like this?

My mind is brought back to the four strangers in the hall. If the dying man was indeed a Phantom, then there’s no doubt he was the perpetrator of this mass killing.

I gaze around the circular room, my eyes landing on each of the fallen Table Members. Instead of sadness or even regret, the only thing pulsing through my body is raw, blazing hatred. It should have beenme. This should be the evidence ofmyvengeance spread across Madam’s floor.It should have been mine.

A shuddering gasp fills the air, and my eyes drag to a golden heap on the opposite side of the room. A thick trail of blood spreads from where she’s dragged herself away from the carnage, but there’s no doubt about it—the Madam is still alive.

I’m not exactly sure what happens next. One moment, I’m running toward the Madam, a scream of rage bellowing into the gold-hewn chamber. The next, deep fissures are exploding in my vision, and the world falls out from under me.

I blink, and I’m outside.

Confused, I look over my shoulder, shocked to find the Sanctum headquarters engulfed in a terrible fiery blaze. It heats the bare skin along my back and brings tears to my eyes as the smog infects the clear night air.

Where am I? What am I… what am I doing here?

The frozen concrete bites at the bare soles of my feet, though it warms by the second as the heat from the building creeps into the structures surrounding the blaze. I turn in a slow circle, closing my eyes as a sense of calm washes over me, an intense contrast to the shuddering, moaning skyscraper as it succumbs to the blaze.

With a deep breath, I move away from the flames into the night. But even as I move farther and farther away, I swear I can hear the fire whispering to me. Telling me to turn around andremembersomething—something important.

One day, I’ll realize what it was.

Though I will wish I hadn’t.

PART ONE

THE SOWING

1

ORION

“THE REAPER”

“And how doesthat make youfeel?”

I shift my weight against the cracked leather sofa, pinning a glare at the tweed-covered psychiatrist opposite me. My blood's at boiling point, waiting for that spark of fire to set me alight. But there’s no oxygen in the room, nothing for the wildfire to take root in.

“Mr. Adair?”

I blink once, clearing the fog as I slide my thumb over the silver cuffs strapped to my wrists. “Yes?”

“I asked—how does that make youfeel?”

I gaze over his shoulder at the singular barred window. Just beyond the iron bars, the limb of a mighty oak juts out, blocking out the sun. And on that branch rests a crow, his beady black eyes seeming to stare directly through the window and into my soul. It ruffles silver-tipped feathers, and my heart clenches as I long to reach out. To be free of this prison.

“I don’t know,” I murmur, never taking my eyes off the small-winged omen. “I haven’t really thought much about it.”

The man looks over the top of his Coke bottle glasses, his muddy-brown eyes glinting hungrily as he shifts in his cushy plaid armchair. “Dig deep. Really deep.”

I sigh, threading my fingers together and squeezing hard. Being locked in maximum prison for the past eight years has made mefeela variety of things—none of which I would even consider sharing with this shifty medical professional. Not unless I was desperate for a one-way ticket to the chair, that is.

“It makes me feel…”Like I want to murder someone. “Angry.”

“Hmm.” Dr. Kebler drops his eyes to his notepad, and a flurry of scribbles ensues. “Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.”

---