Shadow Reaper (Shadowlands Series) (8 page)

***

I met Bernadette at the Hatch at midnight. We didn’t speak. We grabbed our harnesses and weapons and headed out.

It was only when we were outside, jogging low toward the Horizon that Bernadette spoke. “We can link the lines to the winch and then take off the harness and tie them off when we get to the Beyond. At least we’ll be able to find our way back.”

“Good plan but what if something else finds the line? What if it comes through the Horizon?”

“If that treaty is real, then that won’t happen. Besides, if they wanted to find us, they know exactly where we are. I doubt they have problems navigating these lands.”

Another point. I was glad she was with me. “Thanks,” I said.

“For what?” She glanced at me.

“For coming with me.”

She looked away. “Always.”

The Horizon loomed up ahead of us, and my stomach tightened in anticipation of the crossing.

Bernadette fumbled with my harness, and I realised she was attaching my line to the winch. I let her get on with it, eager to get going. Finally she was done and we stepped up to the Horizon. Her fingers laced through mine and I realised she was trembling. Then it hit me. This was her first proper foray through the Horizon. I squeezed her fingers gently, and together, we stepped through the veil.

It was well past midnight when Blake crawled into bed next to Clay.

Sleep had well and truly been avoiding Clay. He’d try to think of monotonous things, like how many screws he had in his toolbox. Sometimes that worked, soothing his overly active brain. But not tonight. It just irritated him. All he could think about was Ash, the future.

“Hi,” Clay said.

“Why you still awake?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“What’s wrong?”

Clay turned to face Blake. He threw an arm around him, stroking his bare back in a soothing caress. “You’re here now.”

“I am.”

“Do you want to talk?”

Clay reached over and flicked on the little LED lamp, made by his hands, on the bedside table and sat up. Blake was resting his head on the pillow, watching him with those beautiful dark eyes. His dark hair was tucked behind his right ear. Mother, he was so handsome. Sometimes Clay could barely look at him without wanting to jump his bones. But there was something in those lovely orbs. Was it sadness, some kind of anxiousness?

“You okay, babe?” Clay said.

“Yeah. Listen, about today . . .” He sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

Blake smiled. “My brain won’t switch off either.”

“I’m worried about Ash.”

“You’re her brother, of course you worry. That’s your job.”

Clay noticed that Blake’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was this farming thing, the stress of the coming changes. They’d relied on the system for too long. The Reaper Programme had been in place for as long as Shelter had been occupied, and now that a new system was being put in place there was anxiety and growing pains. It was natural. Clay didn’t envy Blake his role as decision maker. “You did good,” Clay said. “You’ve given us hope.”

Not only was it his job to look out for his sister, it was also his job to care for his man. Clay may not be able to carry the weight of responsibility for him, but he could certainly help him forget it temporarily. He did want to tell him about the faulty grow light, but how could he? What would it do but add yet another layer of stress to things? Soon he’d get his secret project working, he just knew it.

“Clay, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Clay positioned himself on all fours above Blake.

Blake reached up to stroke his face.

“You’re going to leave all of that stuff outside,” Clay said. “The door is closed and here we are. Submit to me.”

Blake licked his lips, lust flooding his blue eyes.

“Do you submit?”

“Always.”

“Good.”

Clay nuzzled Blake’s neck, kissing his skin, flicking his tongue over the surface. Blake giggled and squirmed. Clay sucked hard at the flesh, lowering his body so their bare torsos rubbed together in silky friction.

Blake grabbed onto the back of Clay’s neck, kneading it with his fingers. “Harder,” Blake said.

Clay fulfilled the request, sucking deeper, nipping now and again. He could eat him like that all day. Blake always tasted so sweet. But even Blake’s delicious skin couldn’t dispel the disquiet in his mind, the feeling that something wasn’t right. He broke contact with Blake’s neck and moved to devour his mouth instead, hungry and deep.

I need to fix the grow lights.

Was that it? He’d figure it out, he would. Not only that, but the super grow light he was building too.

“Clay?”

What if he couldn’t? What if the new farming programme failed? Then they’d have nothing. He really, really needed to fix that light. The council’s plan wasn’t enough, he had to do more, get a backup running.

“Clay . . .”

No, that wasn’t it. Something else was bugging him.

“Clay? Are you with me?”

He realised he wasn’t kissing Blake anymore but was leaning up on his hands staring at Blake’s pillow.

Clay blinked and shook his head. “Shit, sorry.”

“We don’t have to do this.”

Clay sat up, straddling Blake. He ran his hand through Blake’s dark chest hair, making circles with his fingers. “We don’t?”

No way was he having his sexy time ruined by some stupid thoughts. Blake needed this release, this escape.

Blake chuckled. “I’d rather we did. I was just saying, if your mind is elsewhere.”

Clay reached into Blake’s shorts. “For me?”

Blake’s body shuddered. “Always.”

“So does he want to come out and play?”

“Always.”

Clay smirked. “Thought so.”

He tugged Blake’s shorts off and flung them across the room. He did the same with his own.

“Now,” Clay said, “we’re perfect.”

“You’re perfect.”

“You’re getting mushy?”

“You are, though.”

“Aw, so sweet.”

“You’re sweet.”

Clay cocked a brow. “Really?”

“You need to learn to take a compliment.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s better.”

“Enough talk. Get back to submitting.”

Clay got to work with his hands, roaming over Blake’s body, kneading his flesh, enjoying his lover’s gasps of pleasure. He loved the sound. It was a major turn on, and the fact that he was responsible for it made it more so.

He made his way down Blake’s thigh down to his feet and gave his lover a foot rub.

“Oh, Mother . . .”

Blake did love his foot rubs. Clay took his time, really giving them a good going over, applying the required pressure to dissipate the tension.

Need to fix the light.

Screw this! Rather than risk another slip into his thoughts, he lifted Blake’s legs, throwing one over each shoulder.

“Clay . . .”

“You ready?”

Blake nodded.

Clay pushed down the thoughts once more and made love to his boyfriend.

***

Blake was asleep on his chest, snoring lightly. Clay lay on his back, hands behind his head. The sex had been amazing as usual but sleep was still playing hard to get.

Staring into the dark wasn’t solving anything. The wriggle of anxiety in his mind had grown from niggling to get-up-and-do-something-about-it level.

Clay gently slid out of bed, making sure his boyfriend wasn’t disturbed. Blake was well and truly out. He didn’t even stir. His body obviously needed the sleep. Clay was a little jealous his wouldn’t do the same.

He threw on his uniform of grey trousers, black T-shirt and black boots. Without the need of a light, he gathered up his tool belt and slipped out of the room.

It was the dead of night. The streets were silent and almost gloomy. He wove his way through the maze of corridors, glancing at each of the soft lights as he went along. They were designed to look Victorian, a period way back in the day named after a Queen Victoria. Ash had given him a book about stuff from that time. Some of the pages were missing, but he’d got the gist.

“Clay?”

He stopped at the sound of Sarah’s voice.

Sarah was a short, voluptuous brunette, who managed to make Fred salivate every time she graced his presence. She didn’t seem to notice. Her work as head Gardener took all her attention. She worked alongside Simon, Shelter’s Alchemist. They were a relaxed pair, really close, but not a couple. And they were great fun to hang out with—Clay and Blake had done so on many occasions.

“Sarah? What are you doing up?”

“I was just in the greenhouse, you know, having a look.”

Clay sighed. “I’m sorry I haven’t fixed that light yet, but I promise I will.”

“It’s okay.” Her smile was always so warm.

“I will fix it.”

“Is that where you’re going?”

“Yeah.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself about it.”

Clay shrugged. “I just don’t want it to short out the others.”

“Go to bed, Clay.”

“I can’t.”

Sarah clasped her hands together behind her back. “Look, I know how you’re feeling. I’m one to talk, being up and about like this. But I’ve had an epiphany.”

“You have?”

“Yep, and it’s that I am no use to anyone being knackered tomorrow from lack of sleep.”

“You’re right,” Clay said. “But it’s bugging me no end. I don’t know how to tell Blake.”

“You don’t need to. It’ll be okay. Just a glitch. Listen, I have a little something back in my room that might help. Simon whipped it up from some hops and tea leaves. Come, I’ll give you some.”

Clay was kind of relieved. He would much rather be back in bed, worry free and snuggled up to Blake.

“Thank you,” he said. “That would be great.” It appeared that epiphanies were contagious.

He followed Sarah to her room. As soon as she opened the door, he was hit with the scent of roses. Sarah loved to grow them. Clay had built Sarah her own mini UV light for her room to do so.

Sarah’s room was probably the warmest place in Shelter, matching everything about her. It was all soft minks and pale browns and the lighting inside was never harsh. Clay found the ambience charming.

“Here you go.” Sarah handed him a small flask. “It’s cold, I’m afraid, but it will do the trick regardless. Don’t take it until you’re about to get into bed. It takes barely a minute to kick in.”

“Cool, thanks for the warning.”

Sarah chuckled. “Don’t want to find you sprawled out in the streets, do we?”

“Definitely not.”

“Well, goodnight. Go and sleep. Tomorrow is another day. We both need to stop worrying. That light will be fixed. It’s just being naughty.”

Clay chuckled. “Goodnight, Sarah. Thanks again.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yep, see you then.”

Clay paused on his way back to his room.

Something isn’t right.

He looked down at the flask. It would be his saviour. What he really needed was to sleep. Tomorrow was another day, a fresh start. He’d feel better; he was sure of it. A clear head always helped. He’d fix that damn light and help his sister. Everything would be all right.

We were almost at the Beyond and so far no critters, no problems. But even if we did come across a critter or two, I was certain we could handle it. Until a couple of years ago, we’d faced a bigger threat: Knightmares. Creatures made of black smoke and silver bone. They looked like horses, but were something else entirely, and they were hungry for human flesh. I’m not sure how many human Reapers had been killed or maimed by these creatures. But then one day they had simply vanished.

Tonight, it was as if the Shadowland was holding its breath, waiting for something. The transition between the Cusp and the Beyond was quite obvious. Where there was some anaemic grey light in the Cusp, the Beyond was a veil of inky blackness, ominous and viscous and pretty scary. Bernadette was no longer holding my hand, and I kind of wished she’d take it again, but she’d moved off slightly, searching for a tether for our harnesses. I unclipped mine and moved to help her. We found a bent lamppost. Its light was smashed and its head almost touched the ground.

“This’ll do,” Bernadette said. Her voice sounded shockingly loud in the silence, and I jumped a little before exhaling and wrapping the line closest to the flesh of my harness around the body of the lamppost. I made sure it was tight and then stepped back.

“You ready?” Bernadette asked.

My stomach quivered. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Bernadette took my hand and I was grateful for the contact. We stared up at the inky blackness, which seemed to shift and reach out to us. The anaemic light withdrew, moving behind us, leaving nothing but shadow, and then we stepped into the Beyond.

For a moment, the darkness was absolute, a physical entity that pressed itself against me, suffocating me. I gasped for breath. If Bernadette hadn’t been holding my hand, I would probably have buckled. I felt light headed and strange, but the steady pressure of her fingers lent me the focus to breathe, steady and even. Two more steps, three more steps, and my eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and then I looked up and knew why.

It hung in the sky, a milky glowing orb so beautiful it stole my breath and made my heart ache.

Bernadette’s soft exhalation told me that she’d spotted it too.

“Is that it? Is that the sun?” I asked.

“No. That’s the moon.”

I didn’t ask how she knew. She was a few years older than me and so she’d had the privilege and the misfortune to know what we were missing.

“It’s so . . . bright.” I couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Ash, this doesn’t look right.” Bernadette’s words pulled my attention back to the dark landscape. Houses stood unlit and silent on a street with tall, sturdy lampposts and even, un-cracked paving. It looked normal, as if the street were merely sleeping, but the more I stared at it, the more wrong it felt. The light from the moon didn’t seem to do anything to dispel the shadows that flowed over the buildings before us. It did nothing to banish the dark pockets that lurked between the houses.

“It’s the Beyond. The rules here are . . . unusual, right?”