Reaper Academy: Book One

Chapter TwentyOne: PLEASE REVIEW

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Everyone left Articus with their instructions except for Mia and Weryn. His former slave looked at Weryn and Articus could hear her voice inside his head.

“Leave us.”

He gave her a stiff bow and left them. But as the door shut, Articus heard Weryn in his head like a whisper.

“If you hurt her…”

Articus got the impression that what ever the ending was, it wasn’t a threat, it was a promise. Articus turned to see Mia frowning at him and he realized he’d been staring at his door.

Ignoring her, he walked to his dresser and started packing. She tried to help him but he politely brushed her away. “You never were my slave.”

The redhead took a hesitant step back and when Articus looked up, he saw hurt. And then, uncharacteristically—or very characteristically of her, he didn’t know which—her face went scarlet.

“I am your slave, whether you like it or not Articus Lykos.”

“Ladies aren’t bloody slaves nor do they want to be.” Baffled by her stupidity, he went back to packing.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Mia bow her head. “No, they aren’t. But then, you weren’t meant to live.”

His hand froze half way between the wardrobe and his saddle bags. Since his first Awakening, Articus read between the lines a lot more clearly and the two other awakenings only made him read quicker. What his mind was screaming at him…

It was there, he knew it. Articus just didn’t know if he wanted to reach for it like she was doing. Articus bloody Wayden courting a Lady gone slave. Oh the jokes that will ensue.

“Mia…”

“We should get you packed,” she overrode him, pushing passed him and started slamming fists of clothes into his half open bags. Articus really didn’t know her, he realized. She was pissed.

Instead of arguing with her, he walked to the nightstand and picked up his weapons. As he strapped them on, he felt the new constant warmth in his chest. He reached for it out of sheer impulse.

Turning to the mirror, he released his new power and watched himself appear before his eyes. Grabbing it and releasing it, he played with it. Mia paused in her tirade, watching him.

“I’m sorry,” Articus whispered. “Just a lot of things have happened the past moon--almost to the point of overwhelming.”

“I understand.” The words came out of her like a sigh.

He laughed bitterly. “Not in a million years would I have guessed where I’d be three moons ago.”

Mia dumped the last of his clothes into his saddlebags and walked up to him. The woman’s head met just up to his chin.

“I don’t even know you,” he whispered, his throat drying at the sudden closeness.

“Who truly knows anyone?” She shot back just as soft. The corner of her mouth turned upwards.

The nearness of her body made Articus uncomfortable. Mia leaned her head into his chest and exhaled loudly.

“We could use someone like you…. I – I could use-“

Without warning Articus’s door opened and Celia walked in.

I swear the Gods have marked me for open season.

“Articus…” Celia said with a start, her eyes darting from him to Mia and back. Thankfully his manipulative little slave stepped back from him… but not as quickly as she could have. Mia was back to meekness but Articus caught a hint of satisfaction coursing through her body language.

His mentor locked eyes with the redhead and Articus smartly turned away from the two to… Well he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do but anything other than being in the same room with the two fitted him just fine.

“I see.” Celia said stiffly. The two words involuntarily made Articus go pole-axe. “I wanted to check in on you but you seem just fine. I will leave you two--"

“Wait.” The impending doom that had been discussed minutes before floated up from his numbed subconscious. He could use her. What the hell is wrong with me?

What worried Articus was he wasn’t sure he was wondering about his willingness to use her or the fact that he was in uncharted territory, his love life.

Mia looked up at him curiously. “We don’t need her,” her voice rang confidently inside his head.

“Yes we do,” he replied back without thinking. Mia’s eyes dilated in surprise, mimicking how he felt. How’d I do that?

“What’s going on?,” Weryn’s voice joined their conversation.

Ignoring him, Articus said, “Ward us please.”

Celia looked from Mia to Articus hesitantly but she activated a ward around them without question.

The Ghourdian kept her silence and waited for Articus to speak first. He started pacing, trying to get his thoughts in order.

“Do you trust me?” he asked after a time.

“Of course. What is this about?” his mentor asked. Annoyance melted away to worry when Articus didn’t respond right away.

Not knowing any other way to explain it without spilling everything, he said, “It is about the Fourth Triangle, and it mustn’t be discussed outside this room… not even Priscilla.”

Especially Priscilla, Articus thought. It made perfect sense to him that the Triangle knew he hadn’t figured out their plans, that he wasn’t a liability to them. And how would they know that unless Priscilla had told them? It fitted too well for Articus’s taste.

Celia eyed Mia as if just realizing something. What, Articus didn’t know. Mia’s voice came to Articus uneasily. “I don’t like this Articus. I don’t trust her.”

Cautiously, Celia said, “You--have my word.”

“I need you to get to your father and warn him that the Summit may be a target to the Triangle, tonight.”

Celia’s eyes narrowed on Articus like a hawk. And then she turned her gaze to Mia but the look Celia gave her was--he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Is that… jealousy?

“What did you learn?” Celia finally asked.

“Do you trust me to make the right decision?” Articus asked instead.

“Yes but…”

“I’m sorry,” Articus said shaking his head. “In three days I will meet you at the Summit and I’ll explain everything to you then.”

She looked at Mia again with that odd look, and then finally nodded. “What are you going to be doing?”

“Say goodbye to an old friend.”

Celia shook her head solemnly. “You still don’t trust me?”

Articus cringed at the ‘still’ part. “Celia…”

“I will meet you in three days.” She turned and left without giving him a chance to stop her.

I don’t even know what I bloody want.

A full minute after the door closed, Mia whispered into the deafening silent room, “I don’t trust her.” Articus wasn’t sure she believed it. In fact, he thought he caught a hint of regret. And why the hell is she feeling guilty?

Trying to change the subject, Articus asked, “How do you work these Mindlinks?”

Mia gave him one of her small smiles, much like Celia now that he thought on it. “I thought you had it figured out.”

“Not completely,” he admitted.

“Think of the person you wish to talk to and send your thoughts to the crystal. If it’s to everyone, don’t think of anyone--just talk to it. The crystals are all liked to each other so you can’t accidentally talk to someone else who has a Mindlink but isn’t in our group.”

“Talk to the crystal?” Articus asked doubtfully.

And then he tried it. “Stick and stones.” Articus sent the thought to Weryn. Having already ‘talked’ to Mia helped.

What Weryn replied back wasn’t words but… an emotion. He was amused. Articus couldn’t describe how he knew, he just did.

Mia looked at him expectantly and he grinned at her. “Neat, it works.”

“Who did you…?” Her curiosity peaked when Articus shrugged.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“If I don’t make it, you take everyone and leave. Even if she has to be--sedated.” Articus sent the thought to Weryn.

“Don’t worry.”

“What are you two talking about?” Mia frown and looked from Articus to his door.

“The weather. Meet you at the stables.”

Articus reached for his new skill and watched his hands turn pitch black.

“Articus…”

He paused at the door.

“Be careful.”

“Always.”



Having the power of invisibility was a freedom he had never thought he’d experience before. Everyone acted differently when there wasn’t anyone watching. He passed two bored Devotees whose names evaded Articus, both talking about Priscilla in a not so brotherly way.

Articus suppressed a grin when the conversation turned to Celia. Thankfully he had mastered his hearing enough to block out even sounds that were within normal hearing range.

He stalked along the Ring and noticed that his boots weren’t making any sound on the tiles. It had been something he hadn’t thought about and was thankful that his skill included a personal sound ward. Whatever the mages had done to his ancestors, they had covered all their bases.

Articus took up a jog and headed for the Head Mistress’s room in the west wing. He eased passed the two guards and felt his heart beat a little faster when he came upon the Head Mistress’s door. The Gods must have pitied Articus for all his suffering for a slave with a tray opened the door just as he reached it. He shadowed the white robed woman in and slid passed her just as she closed the door.

“Akara, I’m in. Tell Briar to start. Cedrick, I’ll need that distraction on my mark.”

Akara’s excited voice acknowledged him, followed by Waylon’s calm voice.

“Put the tray on the table and leave me.” The Head Mistress’s voice came from the next room.

The waiting room was as big as Articus’s bedroom. Designed for comfort and luxury, it was a room that hosted the most powerful leaders in the world. Black and gold was the main theme of the room and had to have cost more than Articus could ever make in his old mortal life. Chairs gelded in gold were strategically placed along the walls while three large couches made a horseshoe shape in the center. A medium size black oak table stood low to the ground at the very center of the room, and etched into the table’s center were three triangles outlined in gold a synth in the center forming, the Reaper sign. At the very head of the horseshoe was an oversized chair that looked to be made of a million goose feathers.

When the slave placed the tray down, she immediately left the room. Once the door clicked shut, the Head Mistress walked in. She wore a red silk robe that highlighted her womanly features, making Articus think impure thoughts of the nine hundred year old woman. The Kalian looked no older than late thirties, if that. All Reapers physically aged differently, another thing no one knew the ‘why’ to.

She picked up a cup of tea and sipped at it in pleasure.

“Expense reports, taxes, trade route disputes, and nobles that wish contract renegotiations. Where do I find the time?” She mused to herself aloud.

Articus watched her shuffle through the stack of papers on the table leisurely for a time. He had to wait until someone came in and warned her.

Hopefully it will be Nicolas.

She picked up some type of strawberry pastry when a nock came to her door.

“Enter.”

Articus positioned himself behind her chair and watched as Nicolas walked in.

Aren’t I the luckiest son of a bitch? he mused to himself.

And then his stomach gave out.

No. Oh Gods no.

Celia walked in behind the Master Reaper.

“We have a problem.”