120
Her Reaper’s Arms
“You don’t remember?” she asked, her brows drawing together. She didn’t like
how hot his flesh had become and reached over to take the cloth out of the water to
wash his face again.
“Was there a robbery?” he asked. He put a hand to his head.
“There was an attempted robbery,” she reminded him. “You and the woman giant
stopped it.”
“Was anyone hurt?” he asked as he rubbed his forehead.
“You and the warrioress killed the five in the dining car but three got away,” she
said. She pushed his hand aside and ran the rag over his face and down his neck.
Bevyn’s hand fell to his side as though it had been a real effort to hold it up.
“They’ll have to be found and brought to justice,” he said.
“That will have to wait,” she said.
“Is Penthe all right?” He shifted on the bed, sweat pouring out of his pores.
“The walking mountain is doing just fine,” Lea said from between clenched teeth.
“Go get her for me,” he asked. He was breathing heavily.
“Bevyn—”
“Now, wench!” he said, eyes flashing. “Go get her for me now!”
Lea took one look at the red glints in the depths of his eyes and shot off the bed. She
had some idea what was happening and ran as fast as she could toward the dining car,
figuring that was where the Blackwind would be. As soon as she saw her, she yelled at
her that the Reaper needed her.
Penthe paused with a glass almost to her lips. “What’s wrong?”
“I think he’s about to Transition!” Lea said, trembling violently from head to toe.
“Oh hell!” Penthe hissed, and slammed her glass down on the table, shoved her
chair back and practically flew past Lea.
Everyone sitting in the dining car turned pale. Lea barely felt Riley taking her arm
to seat her at his table. She looked up at him with dazed eyes.
“Here,” Riley said, pressing a glass of water into her hand. “Drink.”
Penthe almost missed the door to the Reaper’s compartment and had to snake out a
hand to grab the doorjamb to halt her mad rush. She stepped back and as soon as she
saw the naked Reaper on all fours in the center of the bed, his head swinging from side
to side as he panted, she felt her insides turn to water.
“Lock. Me. In,” he managed to say, his back arching.
The sounds coming from the Reaper’s body sent chills down Penthe’s body but she
didn’t question his command. She jerked the door closed and held the handle, bracing
her feet on the opposite jambs as she held it, shouting for the conductor to bring his key.
Hurrying toward her, the conductor’s hand was trembling so badly he dropped his set
121
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
of keys and had to stoop down to snatch it up, whimpering as he poked unsuccessfully
at the lock trying to get the key in.
“Hurry the fuck up!” Penthe yelled at the poor man.
Something hit the door hard and it rattled in the frame. Although the Amazeen had
her full weight behind holding it shut as the conductor struggled to lock it, the portal
gave just a little and she had to strain to pull it closed again.
“Damn it, man!” the Blackwind hissed. “Lock the damned thing!”
Snarls came from behind the door as the conductor managed to turn the key and
lock the portal. Vicious scraping sounds down the wood made the hair stand up on the
little man’s head. Growls and chuffing noises echoed from the room as things began
hitting the door.
Despite knowing the door was locked, Penthe continued pulling on the handle, her
booted feet braced halfway up the doorjambs as she put her weight behind holding the
handle.
Total destruction was going on inside the Reaper’s compartment. He was howling
fiercely and pounding on the door.
“What should we do?” the conductor asked, his face as white as parchment.
“If he breaks the window, he’ll…”
At that moment the sound of glass shattering and a triumphant howl told the
Amazeen the Reaper had leapt from the compartment. She let go of the door and ran
back through the sleeper car, the dining car—barely noting the looks of horror on the
passengers’ faces—and sprinted through the social car and out to the observation car. In
the distance, she saw a wolf streaking through the woods beyond the rails and knew
Bevyn Coure was running free. She turned to find Riley behind her.
“Is he loose?”
“That he is,” she said.
“Should we have them stop the train?”
Penthe didn’t know how to answer that. If the Reaper had any control over himself,
he more than likely would not attack the train but if he were lost to his animalistic
nature, he might harm someone. She weighed the consequences, the options, then her
shoulders slumped.
“No, I don’t think that would be wise,” she said at last.
“He’ll follow us,” Lea said, and they turned to look at her. “He doesn’t want me to
see him like that.”
“I thought he said he wasn’t near Transition,” Penthe said.
“Perhaps the wounds altered his cycle,” Lea said. She was leaning against the open
door of the observation deck, the wind from the moving train blowing her blonde hair,
her arms wrapped around her. “His flesh was so hot I should have realized what was
going to happen.”
122
Her Reaper’s Arms
“Well, there’s nothing we can do,” Riley said. He went to Lea. “Let’s go get that
food.”
“I can’t eat now,” Lea said. “I’m too keyed up.”
“You should try,” Riley told her. “At least come on in and sit with us.”
Penthe took one last look behind the train then came toward Lea. “He’ll be all right,
wench.”
“Aye,” Lea said, and moved back, her head down.
“He called me because he knew I had the strength to hold that door shut,” Penthe
said. “No other reason.”
Lea lifted her head and met the Amazeen’s gaze. “I know.”
Riley walked behind the women as they moved back through the social car and into
the dining car where everyone was looking up at them expectedly. “He’s running
somewhere off in the woods out there,” he told them. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Will he be all right?” one of the elderly women
