Page 98 of Ransomed to the World
“Reapers aren’t good or evil, Annora. It’s just a job. When supernaturals die, their powers have to go someplace.”
“The afterworld.” That explained why so much power was concentrated around them. She reached out to touch the building when Valen grabbed her elbow and pulled her away.
“Careful,” he warned. “Even something as simple as a building can be dangerous to the unwary.” He poked the wall, jerking back quickly when the darkness rippled and it looked like thousands of spiders spilled out, swarming across the surface in search of what disturbed it.
Valen guided her away “Magic can be toxic to humans who don’t have the ability to regulate it. Reapers can sense death. It’s a sharp burst of magic released when supernatural creatures die, and we are sent out to retrieve the lost soul before they can wreak havoc on those left behind.”
They came to a street that was bustling with people, and Annora suddenly felt very conspicuous in her casual clothing. Watching the others, she focused on her outfit. Darkness wrapped around her, stretching and pulling, then condensing until she was wrapped in a cloak similar to the ones her uncle and his team were wearing.
Valen watched her with a small smile, pride shining in his eyes. “You’re getting better.”
“I don’t even know half of what I’m capable of doing. I’m stumbling around in the dark, landing in even more trouble every time I try to figure it out.” Annora brushed away the compliment, asking the one question that had been bothering her. “Why did you never tell the other phantoms what was happening to me?”
Why did he leave her in that hellhole to suffer alone?
“Daxion.” His voice was grim, and he turned away, leading her down the street. “Your father would’ve come after you the moment he learned of your existence. On the other hand, if I’d told him earlier, you would never have met your mates. Do you honestly think he’ll allow you to keep your freedom? That your mates won’t find themselves at the center of numerousaccidentsuntil they die?”
Her gut clenched in dread at the thought of her mates being at Daxion’s mercy.
And she left them alone in Daxion’s house.
She needed to hurry.
“Did I make a mistake?” Valen glanced at her over his shoulder, his expression tortured.
“No.” As much as she hated to admit it, she wouldn’t change anything.
He gave a sharp nod, relief wiping years off his face. “I wanted to be a part of your life, but the afterworld is a place of death. It isn’t for the living, especially for a young woman.”
The three reapers ahead of them entered a small tavern. Valen paused at the entrance and turned to look at her. “You need to go back. You might be a bridge, but it’s not healthy for you to remain here too long. The creatures that linger at the edges of the dead zone can sense your presence…they know you’re the key to getting out of this prison. Trust me when I say that they’ll come after you, and soon.”
“Those creatures...what are they?” Edgar had warned her about them, but she’d never seen any.
“Not all souls are ready for the afterlife. They linger here. We call them lost souls—people tormented by life, or those who have turned vengeful when they felt their life was cut too short. They’ll eventually start to fade, but a few refuse to move on to the next stages of their lives, and they don’t have the ability to use dark matter. So when they feed on the magic here, they become tainted. Instead of becoming reapers, they turn into monsters.”
Annora scanned the darkness, wondering how many of them were already watching her. “Are they all evil?” She couldn’t sense them anymore, and that made her nervous.
“Of course not, but the longer they remain, the more they forget themselves. Their life in the human realm fades pretty quickly, and all they are left with is a never-ending hunger for the living.” Valen opened the door to the tavern, then guided her to a table at the back of the room where they were hidden by shadows. “That’s why you can’t remain here.”
The babble of voices was reassuring, and she was surprised to see reapers acting so normal.
Valen leaned down and whispered to her. “Most reapers considered this our next stage of evolution. We don’t miss our old life as we have a new purpose now, but some habits are hard to break. While we don’t need to eat and drink the same way, it’s a favorite pastime that brings them comfort.”
As she settled in her seat, Prem leapt onto her lap and gave a nervous chitter, peeking over the tabletop to study the packed room.
That’s when Annora sensed it too.
Danger thickened the air.
Something was coming.
Valen took a seat across from her, blocking out the rest of the room. “I’m not sure what being exposed to unlimited amounts of dark matter will do to you. You crossed over too often as a child and have adapted to it. It’s already in your blood and bones. If it continues, it could turn you into a full living reaper, and I’m not sure where that would leave your mates.”
Fear skittered down her spine at the thought of being lost to them. “War is coming to the phantoms. Both sides believe I’m the key to winning it.”
“You are.” Valen glanced up and accepted a drink one of the reapers placed in front of them. “Phantoms and reapers are connected, just different sides of the same coin. We’re created to protect the world, both the living and the dead. In the past few centuries, phantoms have begun retreating from the human realm, isolating themselves. Few remember the old ways anymore, where reapers and phantoms used to work together to keep the peace. The rebellion needs to happen. The council has become too corrupt and needs to fall.”
Annora pushed away the drink, not sure she should risk consuming anything from this world, uncertain what it would do to her. “Daxion wants me to kill his wife, but maybe we can form an alliance and figure out a way to stop him.”
