Death's Shattered Crown

Chapter 15

Rose glanced back down the path toward the house they were staying in and her heart sank. Deep red smoke was billowing up in the distance, spreading its poisonous haze in the air and giving everything a distinctly red tint.

She took a step, muscles tensed to run when the Reaper stepped in her way again.

"You're coming with me. You can't help them now." His expression turned serious and his stance widened slightly like he was preparing for a fight.

She had no choice. She had to defeat him before she could help Samael and Katya. Remembering Katya's words, she focused in on that spot beneath her heart where her power originated. She concentrated on the fear she was already feeling, hoping to force the stream of power to grow. The pulling in her gut happened frighteningly fast, almost faster than she could comprehend. As the power overflowed, her chest burned like it was on fire internally. She instinctively knew if she didn't direct it elsewhere immediately, the power would consume her. She bit her lip hard against the pain and refocused on the Reaper in front of her. It took only one moment, only one thought, before his body burst into crimson flame. His wild, agonized screams ripped through the air, forcing enough shock into her that her concentration slipped and the power began to settle, thrumming against her skin once more with barely contained malevolence.

The Reaper struggled against the cold flame, but to no avail. It burned through his skin as he flailed and screamed. Eventually his struggles ceased and he fell to the gravel of the road as his skin was completely burned away, leaving blackened muscle and bone behind.

Nausea sank deep into her gut as she stared unblinking at the results of her actions. It was like watching Samael age the fake delivery man to a pile of ash, but worse—she was responsible for the damage this time. And she'd almost lost all control over it. She felt herself sinking into her mind as shock settled over her. The only thing that could put off the spiral into panic she knew was eventually coming was when his skin and muscle began lightening. He would be coming back, and she still had to help or warn Katya and Samael.

She turned around and sprinted back toward the house. As she approached, the red smoke she'd seen from a distance grew thicker until she could hardly see any shapes in the distance. Coughing through the cold smoke, she looked around as best she could. Where were Samael and Katya? Urgency increased her footsteps, desperately hoping they weren't still inside. Before she reached the house, yelling began to sound out nearby. Turning to look around her, she realized it was coming from behind the house in the huge yard. She ran that way, determined to help in any way she could. The smoke cleared a bit as she approached, allowing her to see clearly.

The scene unfolding before her felt oddly similar to just the other day when they'd been ambushed. Samael and Katya were surrounded by easily a dozen Reapers. Yet something was different about this scene; they weren't attacking. Samael looked much worse for wear than before and Rose wondered how he was standing. His skin was ghost-white, his eyes smudged nearly black with exhaustion and illness. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his shoulders sagging despite the cool defiance and assuredness in his gaze. Katya still looked proud and strong, holding a bow and aiming it at those around them. She wasn't firing, however, and Rose knew it was probably because if she attacked first, they would attack her themselves and it would be game over.

Rose took a deep, shaky breath and was about to step into the stalemate when the Reapers collectively took a step back. She rubbed her eyes in disbelief when she saw the air beginning to twist, then open to a black expanse. Out of the blackness descended a person, dressed in a black suit with an unmistakable fiery head of hair. It was Frederick. He must have teleported there. Fear struck her down as his head suddenly snapped to the side and his dark eyes met hers. A crooked smile spread across his small, freckled face and he beckoned her over.