Page 2 of The Reaper's Vice

“Who… who are you talking to?” I jerk my gaze back to the beautiful emerald-eyed woman, watching sadly as she gazes around wildly for a sign of another person.

I open my lips to explain when it occurs to me that I don’t know. Maybe I did at some point, but the fog coating my mind won’t allow me to see it clearly enough.

I shake my head, drawing my eyes to the beautiful woman’s, barely fighting off tears. “They want me to help you.”I don’t know who they are, but I know what they wanted. And I know I will do what I must, will doanythingfor them.

“Who?” she demands, clutching the fallen Phantom tighter to her chest. “Who wants you to help me? Whoareyou?”

The room pitches to the side, a kaleidoscope of color spreading, dripping, spiraling in front of my eyes. Different shades of gold swirling, swirling, swirling into the others, converging into a disgusting shade of brown. The walls get closer, and the echoes get louder. And suddenly, I have to let the soundout,or I just know I’ll explode.

“Ding dong. Ding dong.”I try not to scream from the blossoming pain in my temples.“I must work quickly,” I breathe, reaching into my pocket. My fingers close around the vial of Vespyr—a powerful clotting agent used by the Sanctum for gunshots and stab wounds—but I find the surface too cold to hold on to for long. Ice spreads through my veins, racing for my heart. But I have to do this. I have to help. “Where the blood flows, life goes. To stop the stream, we must dam the river.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” she screeches. “What are youtalkingabout?”

I suck my teeth, not realizing I said that last part aloud. Even if I wanted to explain, I don’t have the time, so I simply crouch by the dying Phantom, inching the tip of the syringe to the center of his wound.

Before I make contact, the woman’s hand shoots out, gripping my arm and stopping me from advancing. “The blood is leaving. I must work quickly,”I murmur, a deep frown settled between my brows as I try to make her see reason. “He will die?—”

“I know that!” she snaps. Looking away, she takes a deep breath before starting again. “I know that… but what are you doing to him? How do I know that stuff won’t kill him?”

Suppose it did? It would be a kindness. Now that he’s shown his face, the Sanctum will never allow him to live.

“Silly woman.”I sigh, ripping my arm from her and proceeding toward the wound once more. “It will stop the bleeding. For a time.”

I press the handle of the syringe, and a milky-silver substance pours from the tip into the wound. Within seconds, the bleeding stops, and I sit back with a haughty expression.

“I told you.”

The woman shakes her head, unable to take her eyes from the ashen skin on the Phantom’s face. I notice the other man’s attention fixed on the dying Phantom and use their distraction to slip away.

As I’m rounding the corner, I hear her ask another favor. But I’m too far to make out exactly what she said. Just before I slide back into the hidden door, I peek out, catching a glimpse of the woman’s wide-eyed expression. She looks like she just saw a ghost—and maybe that’s true.

Maybe I don’t really exist.

I’m about to close the door when a third set of footsteps races down the hall, the sound overshadowed by a new male voice.

“Brett! Kain!”

My heart thunders in my ears as I take in the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. His eyes are a stunning, piercing blue, peeking out from shocks of long, wavy black hair—hair I would love to run my fingers through.

The handsome stranger crouches by the Phantom’s head, his expression ashen. “Is he…?”

“He… I don’t think so,” the woman—Brett?— whispers. “He… he doesn’t have much time left, though.”

“Fuck!” The boy rakes his hands through his hair, clearly distraught. That is, until he looks toward the wound on the Phantom’s leg, realizing the blood has stopped flowing. “Did you find something to help?”

Brett and the brutish man exchange glances, and I know exactly what they're thinking about.Should they tell him about me?For some reason, the thought causes my heart to stutter.

“I found… I found some kind of syringe thing in his pocket,” Brett lies. “It stopped the bleeding, but it won’t last for long.”

The boy nods, not bothering to question the coincidence. “Let’s get him out of here—come on.” The boy stoops, pulling the Phantom’s arms over his shoulders like a backpack. I take one last glance at his straining muscles before I close the door, retreating into the darkness with Sviato and Savyne.

I slide to the floor of the secret passage, closing my eyes as the walls continue to swirl and drip. I breathe through my nose in an effort to stave off the nausea—but then a burst of color spreads behind my closed lids, and I pitch to the side, the contents of my stomach emptying onto the stone floor.

Something is wrong. Something terrible has happened.

The bells are still ringing in my head, calling me, urging me to move down the passageway. Without thought, I follow, holding on to the wall for support as I stumble toward Madam’s chambers. Each step is more difficult than the last, the throbbing in my head and joints unbearable and causing me to black out several times along the way.

When I finally push open the secret door into Madam’s chambers, my vision swims with bursts of color exploding everywhere I look. I step to the center of the room, trying to make out the fuzzy shapes spread around the floor. Thick swaths of red spread from them like halos. I don’t understand—not until I crouch next to one and swirl my fingers around the warm red liquid—that the forms spread around the room are dead bodies.

---