“Not fair, you know my weakness,” he whines, cutting me off.

  “Did you just throw him out of the window?” Evie asks around a laugh from close by. I step forward to the gap in the window, calculating how much this is going to hurt when I jump as the wind blows my waist-length black hair around my shoulders. “And where did you get a monkey from? And why is he blue?”

  “Don’t worry, reapers can use shadows to catch themselves,” Connor replies with a wave of his hand as I glance back.

  Yes, but it still hurts like a bitch to land in a shadow.

  “She is as crazy as you,” another man replies in astonishment, like his mate is the only crazy woman in the world.

  I don’t listen for a moment longer, and I jump, the wind catching my breath as I slide down the glass, the scraping noise of my dress against the glass hurting my ears as I head for the greenhouse at the bottom of the building. I reach my hands out, changing power into them and getting ready to make a ball of shadow magic to land on just as someone catches me, knocking the air out of my lungs with the force as we stumble to a stop in the middle of the sky.

  I gasp as I take in what caught me. A man, no, not a man exactly. He looks like an over-six-foot dark god sent here to seduce every woman in his path. I would guess he is an angel because of the bright golden wings stretched out behind him that seem like they are made of gold dust shaped into tiny feathers to make brilliant large wings. They are so enchanting it is hard to look away to see the rest of him. He has beautiful light blond hair that is braided back at the sides, and it really suits his face. I thought angel wings were white, at least the angels I have seen before. What is this dude? He slowly flies us down, his wings just make me want to reach out to touch them.

  He is ridiculously hot. Dimples and all. His eyes meet mine, and I just stare. His eyes are the colour of honey. A pretty hazel colour that has so many different depths that it makes him quite pretty. But I quickly read him as a demanding asshole type, and I love those kind of men. The kind of men that can rock your world in the bedroom and almost break your heart in the morning, but in the end, you wouldn’t care because it would be worth it for that one night of pleasure. If he wasn’t a supe, he might be a good one-night stand I’d never call again. Supes are too possessive, and they ask too many questions.

  “Let me go,” I demand, pushing against his hard chest, but it’s like fighting a rock. Poor Mossy is clinging to my back like a…well, literal monkey, and the man’s hands are holding my waist so tightly that it almost hurts.

  “That is a funny way to say thank you,” the angel replies with a smirk, his deep sexy accent unfamiliar to me. But honestly? I have no idea where angels are from; I didn’t know they still existed until now, so maybe this is normal for them. “But fine. Your wish is my command, Daesyn Heartlocke.”

  I scream as he literally drops me, his smirk staying in my mind as I plunge into freezing cold water within seconds. I barely noticed we moved closer to the ground or near a pool for that matter. I gasp, sucking in cold water as I swim to the surface, the damn dress making it hard to move my legs quickly.

  If this dress drowns me, I’m becoming a ghost and haunting all dresses for the rest of time. Eventually I break the surface of the pool, the dress feeling heavy with all the water it has soaked up as I suck in deep breaths of cold air.

  “The angel man is a fucker. Angel fucker is his name forever now,” Mossy shrieks as he climbs onto my neck, coughing out water. Mossy hates water.

  “Serves you right for abandoning me for food earlier,” I breathlessly mutter to him. “But I agree with the name.”

  As I look at the angel dude at the edge of the pool, Alun walks to his side. Both of them look like night and day. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

  I’m in so much trouble.

  CHAPTER 4

  “Do you need a hand?” Alun softly asks, trying not to smile but majorly failing as he stares down at me. The angel asshole isn’t holding back, he can’t help but laugh as I climb out of the pool on my own. Which, in a soaking wet dress, is not as easy as it sounds.

  Nor remotely graceful.

  Who am I kidding? I’ve never been graceful.

  “Who the fuck are you?!” I demand, glaring at the angel. His wings disappear into gold smoke that the wind blows away, and I just stare. His magic feels different and strong. Addictive. What the hell is he?

  He steps closer, crossing his thick arms against his chest. “Torfinn White.”

  “Torfinn, I think it is best you accompany us to my house instead of travelling back alone. Daesyn might try to jump off another high building,” Alun asks him, like I’m not even here. “Or she might do something reckless. I’m inclined to believe she is wild.”

  “As you wish, my friend,” Torfinn replies, never taking his eyes off me. Like a dusty storm in a desert, his eyes force me not to look away. He is challenging me, daring me to say something.

  “Angel fucker,” Mossy randomly mutters in disgust, and Torfinn narrows his eyes at me.

  “What did you just call me?”

  “You heard,” I snap, just begging him to start a fight even when it wasn’t me who said a word. I’m so done with today and this soaking wet dress.

  “That’s enough,” Alun demands, and we both look at him as he holds his hand in the air. A scythe, the one from earlier, appears in his grasp from nothing but shadows. “Daesyn, can you travel through shadows?”

  “No,” I truthfully answer, feeling Torfinn’s eyes on me. Alun nods at Torfinn. “Well, I did it once as a kid, but it was driven by fear.”

  Alun smacks the end of his scythe on the stone ground, and a black shadow wall appears out of nowhere.

  “If you want a new life and a chance at staying alive, I would suggest following me. I will understand if you do not, but the offer will not come again,” Alun tells me before he walks through the darkness and never looks back, his body disappearing into shadows.

  Silence fills the space around me and Torfinn, and I stare at the shadows. My uncle told me never to come back to the Otherworld, but the Reaper Realm he never once mentioned. Maybe I would be safer there, and it sure beats dying here. I highly doubt my boss could get into the Reaper Realm…so I might actually be free.

  “What would you do in my shoes?” I ask the not-so-angel.

  He looks down at me, his next words rocking me to my core. “The question you should ask yourself is if you wish to live. I suspect you know the answer, and you do not need me to give it to you.”

  I nod and take a deep breath. Fuck it. An adventure in sucky Reaper-ville, it is then.

  “You must hold my hand then,” Torfinn explains, reading my expression like he has known my decision a lot longer than he actually has. He offers me his outstretched hand. “I will guide you through the shadows, and I will not let you go.”

  Talk about trusting a stranger.

  I glance at Mossy, who nods once, though I can feel his nerves just like my own. “Fine,” I reply and take Torfinn’s hand. A strange warm feeling shoots through my hand, like an electric shock, but it’s gone so quickly I assume it’s just the nerves. Torfinn guides me into the darkness, and it smothers me the second I am inside of it.

  Walking through the shadows is something I have always feared. To be lost in it is said to be a fate worse than death.

  And here I am, trusting an angel and a reaper to guide me in the shadows.

  Torfinn’s hand never leaves mine, gently coaxing me through the darkness until we tumble into a field of flowers, and my monkey passes out on my shoulder. Fae magic and reaper magic are a bad mix, and poor Mossy can’t deal with it. I pick him off my shoulder, holding him in my arms as I look up at the sky. The eternal night of the Reaper Realm. It is dark, like I heard it always is here, and I stare up at the stars above my head for a moment. The stars here are like nothing I have ever seen, even in the Otherworld or on Earth. The stars make patterns, looking like someone actually painted the sky with stars to make these images. They say the stars above in the Eternal Night are actually the homes of the gods.

  Who knows if that is true, though.

  “Welcome to Messorem, the city of reapers,” Torfinn states as I let go of his hand, tugging mine harshly to my side like it burns. Messorem, Latin for reapers, is a place of nightmares for me. The city of the reapers looks so beautiful in the distance, and I can see it all from the hill we are on. Tall buildings made of pure white stone smother the outskirts of the city, and magic shimmers between each building, making a barrier around the whole city. At the back of the city is a large cliff, and right at the top is a portal that is always open, a portal to the Otherworld. It’s said to be the only one in the reaper world, but I know that is a lie. I know exactly where there is a smaller portal. The portal here is the size of five houses at least and as tall as a tree. The yellow magic shimmers in the night, a stark reminder of the portal I dropped through when I left the Otherworld. At the front of the city are two massive white statues of cloaked beings holding scythes that meet in the middle to make an X shape. Above where the x is, is the only light other than the stars in this place. A giant sphere spins constantly, filled with enough magic to end all the living beings on Earth and turn everything to dust.

  And it’s not reaper magic in that thing. I grit my teeth with anger and pull my eyes from the city.

  “Why does the city make you angry, Daesyn?” Alun asks me, running his eyes over my face. “Are you not happy to be back in a place your parents were from?”

  “I am angry because it was made with blood and stolen magic,” I bluntly answer. Alun’s eyebrows bunch together, and Torfinn stares down at me. “You could never understand as you are part of the lie. I’m freezing, where is your house?”

  No one answers me for a long time, even as snow starts to fall from the sky, marking my bare skin and drenching my dress.

  “This way,” Alun finally answers. Feeling Torfinn’s eyes on my back, I follow Alun over the hill of glowing white moonflowers and down a bridge to a house hidden by the hills around it. The house is small, almost Earth-like with its brick walls and white-framed glass windows. It can’t be more than two or three bedrooms at most. At the side of the house is a stable with a row of stalls facing out, and I can hear the clip-clop of horseshoes on the stone floors. Alun places his hand on the door and pushes it open.

  “I’m home and we have two guests!” Alun shouts through the house as I step inside the small entrance hall, which only feels more cramped as Torfinn steps in after me, shutting the door. It’s warm in here, and it smells like roast dinners and coffee. I already like it.

  “I thought it was only—” An older woman stops mid-sentence in the middle of the stairs right in front of us as she sees us all. The woman has an apron on over a simple grey dress, and her black hair is pulled up into a messy bun. Her eyes are kind as they fall on me, and she smiles softly before looking to Torfinn.

  Now, her eyes look fearful for a moment before she finishes her descent down the stairs. She hugs Alun, and he kisses the top of her head. “I think introductions are in order?”

  “This is Daesyn Heartlocke, and you know Torfinn from my stories,” Alun comments and then looks at me. “This is my mate, Velia.”

  Velia looks a little confused, but she hides it well. “I’m glad to meet you both. I’m afraid my twin daughters are out with the horses, but they will be back within a few hours. The only issue is we have one spare room and only one spare bed.”

  “I will take a sofa, and Daesyn may have the bed,” Torfinn suggests, and I glare at him.

  “Considering I’m an unexpected guest, I should take the sofa. I don’t want any favours from you,” I growl.

  Torfinn smirks. A dangerous smirk. “Take the bed. It’s not a favour.”

  “It is,” I snap.

  “Is there food?” Mossy wakes up, grumbling. Everyone’s eyes, including mine, fall on the monkey in my arms.

  “What is that?” Alun asks, frowning at it. “And how does it talk?”

  “This is Mossy,” I say. I’m not telling them he is fae kind. Not considering what they do to fae here.

  “How about I take you to your room, Daesyn,” Velia kindly suggests, not thrown at all by the talking monkey. “And then I will start dinner.”

  As Velia makes her way to the stairs, Torfinn leaves through one of the doors.

  “I want to know why you have me here first. What do you want, Alun?” I question. Velia pauses on the stairs, looking back between us.

  “If you don’t leave, you will find out” is Alun’s only answer before he walks through the same door Torfinn left out of. Velia smiles softly at me and nods her head up the stairs. Knowing I don’t have a choice and I could really use a shower, and new clothes, I follow her up.

  “Why did you look at Torfinn in fear?” I ask Velia when we get to the top of the stairs. She looks back at me.

  “I was taught as a child to fear the gods, and you should too,” she quietly answers. “It’s not often a demi-god is sent to our world.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Combing my damp black hair, I leave it down as I go back into the bedroom Velia led me to, shivering from the coldness of the corridor and missing the steamy bathroom. The bedroom Velia has given me is a small box room with a single bed, a square white-panelled window looking over the back of the house, and a small cabinet under the window with four empty drawers. Resting on the cabinet is a pile of dark clothes and even some worn-down boots. I pull the long-sleeved black top on over my bra, enjoying the soft fabric, and slide into the tight black trousers that were clearly made for a taller person than I am. I roll the bottoms of the trousers up to my ankles before sliding on the socks and boots, which again are a little big, but it’s liveable. I’ve sure as hell lived in worse clothing than this.

  “When are we leaving, short stuff?” Mossy asks me, jumping onto the bed from the window. The blue and silver monkey looks right at home on the white sheets of the bed, and I hope I can be as relaxed as him at some point. I’m still not sure this whole house and offer isn’t a trap.

  I groan. “Drop the nickname, Moss, and we aren’t leaving until I find out what they want. That failed job means boss man will kill my ass if we go back to Earth.”

  “I told you taking that job was going to get us in trouble,” Mossy singsongs. I roll my eyes at him and walk to the window, crossing my arms and looking out over the hills and forests in the distance.

  “There wasn’t a choice,” I gently remind him. “And you know this. Now go and figure out a way to escape this place if I need it, and don’t disappear this time because you find food!”

  “Grumpy short stuff,” Mossy mutters with a little snicker. He opens the window and slides outside. The cold breeze instantly fills the room, and I close the window shut behind him. He has a fur coat on after all.

  “Daesyn! Dinner is ready for everyone!” Alun’s voice fills the house like a damn echo. With the thin walls and creaky floors, I bet no one got away with anything in this house. Leaving the bedroom, I head out into the empty corridor. There are three other doors, one of which I know goes to the Jack and Jill bathroom I used, and I’m guessing they are bedrooms. I hear light chatter as I make my way down the stairs and follow the noise through the left door. The kitchen and dining room are one room, with the kitchen cabinets taking up all the walls and a six-seater table in the middle of it. The table has candle tealights floating in water inside the jars, giving the room a little more light in this always-night place.

  Everyone is already seated, including the new people who I don’t know, but since they look half fearful and half amazed, I’m sure they have been updated on who I am. Two women, I would guess near the same age as I am, sit on one side together. Their features are similar, both of them are pretty in a classical way, and they both have long black hair in matching braids. One of them has brown eyes and the other has vivid green eyes. I take the seat next to Torfinn, who watches me like a wolf watches his prey. I resist the urge to wink at him and wind him up further. Alun sits at the head of the table, and Velia on the other side opposite him.

  And no one talks even as a Buttery sprite appears over the cooker. I stare at the tiny little fae creature in shock, with a distant memory snapping into my head of my mother and uncle in the kitchen. Buttery sprite used to love to help my mother cook dinner, and she loved them dearly, even making little cloaks for them to wear. The Buttery sprite has yellow skin and looks like a doll, but she is no bigger than my hand. Her long yellow hair is pure glitter and is wrapped around her body, and her green wings flicker so fast they almost don’t seem to be there. I glance around, expecting Alun or Velia to be disgusted by the fae creature in their house, but that doesn’t happen.

  Velia smiles at the Buttery sprite. “Thank you for your help. You best hide now, Caliphe.” Caliphe looks over at me, her little eyes going wide, and I softly shake my head, hoping she gets it. When she disappears in a puff of yellow glitter, I finally let out the breath I was holding. That was too close. Velia gets up and brings over two hot pots with something nice smelling inside, most likely chicken stew if my nose is right. Alun grabs plates of bread, and once they have placed them in the middle of the table between the candles, I can’t take the silence anymore.

  “Who are you two then?” I question, waving a hand at the twins.

  The one on the left with the green eyes gives me a funny look before lifting her head in an “I’m so much better than you” sort of way. “My name is Laelia, and this is my sister, Persephone.”

  “Call me Poppy,” the other sister cuts in, smiling at me. Ah, she is the less bitchy twin.

  “Right,” I draw out the word and turn my gaze to Alun. “What do you want?”

  He clears his throat, moving his eyes from me to Laelia. Poppy looks down at her empty plate like it could swallow her up while Laelia seems delighted in a petty way that bitchy girls always are. “Have you heard of Royal Reaper Academy, Daesyn?”