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Authors: Sarah McCarty
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warmth into the frigid ice of his soul. He shook his head. If that wasn’t the craziest notion he’d ever heard. Whatever soul a Reaper might have once had had long since been sacrificed to the life he’d been forced into.
The rage rose as it always did when he thought of Them . Faceless entities that had haunted his life in the form of voices. Voices that ordered torture, killed hope. Voices that demanded the murder of men, women, children with no more concern than they ordered delivery of breakfast. Voices that had finally had faces on the day the Reapers had risen up and extracted justice. He’d thought They were demons, but when he’d looked upon Them, They had just been men. Nothing more. Nothing less. And They ’d controlled him. His beast snarled and gnashed its teeth. Never again.
Shit, had he growled aloud? A quick check revealed Adelaide slept on. He shook his head again. She was a fool to trust him the way she did, exhausted or not. The beast wanted her. The beast craved her, and the beast always got what it wanted. All that stood between her and the beast was the man in him that needed her. There was no winning that kind of war, but if he could keep it to small manageable battles, they’d be fine. At least that was the hope.
Adelaide turned her cheek into his chest. He imagined he could feel the heat of her breath against his skin through his shirt. It fed his sense of humanity. No. He shifted her up in his arms. He wouldn’t be smart and drop her into the dirt. He wouldn’t abandon her. He’d protect her. The way any man protected what was good. It was a step toward the future he wanted. One with a purpose.
Isaiah carried Adelaide the last two miles up the mountain toward the lean-to that served as his home. He’d built it under the ledge overhanging the narrow path ringing the cliff. The sun crested the adjacent mountain range, sending stray beams of light to play across Adelaide’s face. His glance trailed the flow of light over her features, following the curve of her cheekbone, tracing the straight small jut of her nose, lingering on the dusting of gold on her lashes. Her skin was a fine, pale cream. Her mouth petal pink. The next step brought him farther into a beam of light. It blended into her hair before exploding outward in a brilliant, shining, multicolored halo.
He couldn’t look away. The shine blended with the visions in his mind, expanding faster than he could control. He stopped moving, seeing nothing but that light, not daring to move until reality returned. Light and dark battled for supremacy in his mind. Voices behind the light surged forward. Old, new, he couldn’t tell.
There’s no point in fighting.
They had said that. The echo of his own “no” rang in his ears. It had still had power then. There’d been a lot of fight in him then. But then he hadn’t understood Their power. The weapons They would use. The changes They would create within him. Changes he still didn’t understand, but they ruled his life with feral intensity.
We will win. Their promise echoed in his head.
No. His response echoed louder.
The anger rose along with the beast. The battle still waged. After five years, a winner had yet to be determined. The beast, always stronger than Them , than him, battled the light, pushing it back, leaving Isaiah with only the weight of the darkness to carry. He could manage that as long as he stayed in the present.
Reality came back in a blink. Ahead of him there was nothing but blue skies, clouds, and mountain peaks. Beneath his feet there was a portion of ledge, and then . . . nothing for a mile down. He took a breath. And then another. Waiting to see if perception would distort before attempting to move. The weight of the woman in his arms increased tenfold as he realized how close he’d come to killing them both. He’d have to be more careful. It wouldn’t matter if his life came to an end, but she was good, and the vow his kind had made when they had
The rage rose as it always did when he thought of Them . Faceless entities that had haunted his life in the form of voices. Voices that ordered torture, killed hope. Voices that demanded the murder of men, women, children with no more concern than they ordered delivery of breakfast. Voices that had finally had faces on the day the Reapers had risen up and extracted justice. He’d thought They were demons, but when he’d looked upon Them, They had just been men. Nothing more. Nothing less. And They ’d controlled him. His beast snarled and gnashed its teeth. Never again.
Shit, had he growled aloud? A quick check revealed Adelaide slept on. He shook his head again. She was a fool to trust him the way she did, exhausted or not. The beast wanted her. The beast craved her, and the beast always got what it wanted. All that stood between her and the beast was the man in him that needed her. There was no winning that kind of war, but if he could keep it to small manageable battles, they’d be fine. At least that was the hope.
Adelaide turned her cheek into his chest. He imagined he could feel the heat of her breath against his skin through his shirt. It fed his sense of humanity. No. He shifted her up in his arms. He wouldn’t be smart and drop her into the dirt. He wouldn’t abandon her. He’d protect her. The way any man protected what was good. It was a step toward the future he wanted. One with a purpose.
Isaiah carried Adelaide the last two miles up the mountain toward the lean-to that served as his home. He’d built it under the ledge overhanging the narrow path ringing the cliff. The sun crested the adjacent mountain range, sending stray beams of light to play across Adelaide’s face. His glance trailed the flow of light over her features, following the curve of her cheekbone, tracing the straight small jut of her nose, lingering on the dusting of gold on her lashes. Her skin was a fine, pale cream. Her mouth petal pink. The next step brought him farther into a beam of light. It blended into her hair before exploding outward in a brilliant, shining, multicolored halo.
He couldn’t look away. The shine blended with the visions in his mind, expanding faster than he could control. He stopped moving, seeing nothing but that light, not daring to move until reality returned. Light and dark battled for supremacy in his mind. Voices behind the light surged forward. Old, new, he couldn’t tell.
There’s no point in fighting.
They had said that. The echo of his own “no” rang in his ears. It had still had power then. There’d been a lot of fight in him then. But then he hadn’t understood Their power. The weapons They would use. The changes They would create within him. Changes he still didn’t understand, but they ruled his life with feral intensity.
We will win. Their promise echoed in his head.
No. His response echoed louder.
The anger rose along with the beast. The battle still waged. After five years, a winner had yet to be determined. The beast, always stronger than Them , than him, battled the light, pushing it back, leaving Isaiah with only the weight of the darkness to carry. He could manage that as long as he stayed in the present.
Reality came back in a blink. Ahead of him there was nothing but blue skies, clouds, and mountain peaks. Beneath his feet there was a portion of ledge, and then . . . nothing for a mile down. He took a breath. And then another. Waiting to see if perception would distort before attempting to move. The weight of the woman in his arms increased tenfold as he realized how close he’d come to killing them both. He’d have to be more careful. It wouldn’t matter if his life came to an end, but she was good, and the vow his kind had made when they had
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