Page 63 of Jackal's Pride
“So he can go back to how he’s supposed to be.” Newt turned away from me and sipped his drink.
“Newt, if Jackal went back to setting off plagues like he used to on top of everything else going on in the human world…” I couldn’t fathom it. Sickness and nature were two things we could do nothing against. Our power came in our strengths and abilities. Truthfully told, Jackal’s and Isabella’s helped extend our days. The casualties would have been far worse if not for them. If we lost Jackal, ifIlost him… Oh, God, my chest hurt. It was like someone had stolen my oxygen and sucker punched me in the gut.
“I’m going to keep you alive, I promise.”
I turned my head. “What?”
Screams broke out. I heard the soft whoosh as an arrow released, heading toward me. Before I could block it, Newt raised his hand, and the arrow pierced his palm. A scowl lit up his face as he turned in the direction the arrow came from. More arrows, tipped in fire, flung through the crowd.
“Maureen,” August yelled. Barron ripped an arrow from his bloodied shoulder. Sebastian was busy searching through the frantic crowd. Fear left them and rushed toward the bar.
When I glanced back at Newt, he was gone. Standing, I ran toward my brothers, but another flaming arrow landed at my feet. Fire spread across the floor. My eyes widened as I saw the message left behind.
I gasped. “Guys.”
Their gazes snapped to the floor.
A message was seared into the wooden floor.
The age of the Reapers has come to an end.
Chapter 24
Maureen
“Where the fuck are they?” August muttered.
I tried stepping back from the flames licking at me, but there was no escaping them. My skin was hot and starting to blister. Although I should have sought safety, I couldn’t stop peering down at the message. A sense of foreboding hit me even though I knew something like this was bound to happen ever since my encounter with the bird demon. The warning in my gut told me things were going to get worse.
“There,” Barron growled, crumbling the arrow in his hand. We all turned to where he pointed his head. At least a dozen or more cloaked figures stood spaced out. All of them wore the same red cloaks, identical to our black Reaper ones, along with creepy white masks hiding their faces.
“Oh, fucking hell,” August muttered, shaking his head. “What’s with the outfits?”
“You’d do well to watch what you say, Greed.” It was a woman that spoke. “Didn’t you get the memo? Your time is over.” I couldn’t get a read on her or figure out any of their names. Cloaking themselves was a smart move on their part. We had no idea who was behind each mask.
“Do I know you?” August asked her. “Is that what this is?”
“Get over yourself, Greed. We’ve never met.” She moved through the flames, her red robe flowing around her as the fire parted for her. “But I’ve watched your father kill my mother. I never thought I’d get a chance to avenge her, but alas, things happen—opportunities become available.”
“Anyone my father has killed no doubt deserved it.” August was moodier now. No doubt tired of this charade.
“You Reapers make me sick!” She snapped, waving her hand around in anger. “You live in the Underworld, but you work for those in the sky—Heaven. Demons are sick of being good, tired of not being who we are supposed to be. We don’t deserve to die for being who we are.”
“Great,” August muttered. “They’re fucking delirious.”
“I’m guessing you want to open up a world of hurt onto the human world, right? You think they’re beneath you. Like they’re food, playthings, whatever you choose them to be.” Sebastian stepped forward, materializing his scythe. “See, that’s why we’re here. To keep demons like you in check.”
She tossed her head back and laughed. “Not for long.” She shrugged. “But you’re right. We want free reign to do what we want like in the olden times before your father was created,” she spat. “It was only a few short years but my mother’s ancestors made sure to pass down the beauty in that time—the time before the Grim Reaper when demons weren’t crucified for being what they were. We could be who we were without the fear of being killed for it.”
“Why are we listening to them? Let’s just get rid of them.” Barron materialized his own weapon. I followed suit bringing out Ben and Jerry. The red thin blades whistled as I swirled them around.
“We won’t be fighting you today,” she whispered. “Just came to introduce ourselves.”
A sickening crunch filled the charred room. Most of the demons were long gone. The fire was starting to simmer down, but the murder in Fear’s eyes was priceless as his tail ripped into one of them. There was a choking sound before he removed the barbed appendage, and the body tumbled to the floor. “Do tell me who you guys think you are to destroy my place?” He was in demonic form—black horns and a long tail, pale shiny skin lighting up the red of his eyes. His tattoos even disappeared although his body did stay the same normal height and width. It still weirded me out every time I saw him this way.
“You—” a different one hissed beneath his mask. This one sounded male.
“I’ve been itching for a good kill fest.” Fear glowered. “Lucky me.”