Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

XXXXI - Last Dance

The fireflies lingered with us until we reached the vast courtyard of The Halo. They perched on the carefully trimmed hedges strewn alongside the walkway, illuminating the white lilies gazing up at the dark sky. An enormous fountain was the centerpiece of the flowery landscape, in the center of which, stood a white marble statue of a beautiful lady who could only be Mistress Roselle Sinclair, gazing longingly at the sky, frozen perpetually in time as water flowed endlessly from her cupped hands, refracting the lights and showering the whole place with rainbow colors.

For a moment, Vincent and Vladimir glanced at the statue of their mother before rallying us into the front entrance where a beautiful russet-skinned young lady in a hot pink sari waited for us by the granite stairs. She was a bit skinny, slightly taller than me. Her dark brown curly hair flowed to the back of her bare waist. I strained to see the marking on the side of her neck, but unlike all of us, she had no number; just the infinity sign.

"Sharifa!" Amyr exclaimed, hurrying up the stairs to embrace the lady who didn't look bothered at all. "You're smokin' hot tonight," he added, making her twirl.

The lady called Sharifa just answered with a bashful smile, tugging on her long flowing sleeves and furtively rubbing where Amyr held her. Upon seeing Vladimir and Vincent, she automatically dropped her gaze, took two steps back and bowed waist-low—the traditional gesture of greeting for us familiars, something to remind us of our inferiority.

"Welcome, Masters," she greeted, still with her pale eyes—very much like the Reapers' metallic silver ones—fixed on the floor.

"There's no need for that kind of formality, sister," Vladimir replied, approaching Sharifa to take her hand.

Throwing nervous glances around, the lady recoiled. "Please forgive me. I cannot be seen being so disrespectful of the Masters." Her voice shook, hands fisted on her sides.

"Is Father punishing you again?" Vladimir's tone went a notch higher, his constantly docile face now painted with anger. "You shouldn't tolerate this, Sharifa. You're his only daughter—"

"Only when I've defied his orders," she replied calmly and with conviction as though she was reciting a passage from the bible. "I am but a familiar and always will be. The Grand Master is free to teach discipline by any means he sees fit."

Vladimir told me all about his eleven other brothers. But he never mentioned that he had a sister. And that she was a familiar like me. I noticed that she was barefooted, inadvertently catching glance of a bluish discoloration on her lower leg but I couldn't be sure.

If otherwise happened. Vladimir's voice rang in my ears again, sending jolts to my toes. Given that I died in my scheduled time of death, Pilgrim Reaper would've come for me, t8ook my soul. Turned me into one of his slaves because whatever Alessandra Clandestine did, he wanted her and for some reason, that roused his interest on me. If Death could hurt his own daughter and treat her like a lowly slave, what more for me?

"They are here," Sharifa announced politely, her eerie moonlike eyes averted from her brothers.

From the mosaic stone bridge, there were four figures. Two tall men and hunkered silhouettes, possibly, animals. The fireflies, alerted by the newcomers' presence, flew from the bushes and drifted closer to the bridge as if to welcome the guests. Soon, I saw a familiar tall figure—pale face, hooked nose, skinny built—accompanied by an enormous cat creature with yellow and silver striped fur coat and a grayish-purple fruit bat flapping by his side.

Maximilian Herondale's face paled more at the sight of us, his thin lips curving into a strained smile. Beside him, an equally tall, young man eyed on us. From the previous pictures Archie had shown us, I recognized him as Alexis, The Seventh. To say that this person might be the most beautiful guy I had seen in my entire life wasn't an exaggeration—high cheek bones, perfectly angled jaws, an infinitesimal cleft on his chin, a pair of sad silver eyes. It was actually the first time I saw Rosario gaping. I mean I wasn't that kind of girl but... sigh.