Starfire (Grim Gate 2) - Page 69

It gets their attention back on us, and the little group of remaining scrappers chase after me. My chest burns from sucking in the frigid air, and I slide to an ungraceful stop in my driveway, stumbling over an icy puddle. Gasping in air, I whirl around, certain I’m going to see the end of a shotgun pointed at my face.

I don’t, thankfully, but instead see even more scrappers emerging from the fields, collectively hissing. It’s creepy as fuck and it hits me how outnumbered we are. Wrapping my fingers tighter around the hilt of the dagger, I grit my teeth. We’re outnumbered, but we can still take them out.

And then Hunter lets me know scrappers aren’t the only thing we have to worry about.

Reapers.

At least one reaper lurking around the barn. As soon as I turn my head, looking in the direction of the reaper, its mind connects with mine. As soon as I thought about it, the reaper’s mind. It’s pacing back and forth, and is…upset? What? I get a better read on its emotion. It’s not just upset, it’s pissed the fuck off.

But not at me, at the scrappers. Because they were attacking me—her alpha. She’s here to defend me. What. The. Fuck.

Heart in my throat, I turn back to the dozen or so scrappers. I could fight them, risk getting bitten…or I could send the reaper after them.

“Get the scrappers,” I whisper, knowing she’s able to hear me. The reaper takes off, moving silently through the yard, passing Hunter without so much as a thought to harm him. Shaking myself, I run onto my front porch, gasping for air. Hunter, not wanting to leave my side, joins me and I look down at him with wide eyes. He’s covered in blood and had fun tearing the scrappers apart. Could he have taken out the rest? I honestly don’t know and putting him at risk isn’t something I’m willing to do.

High pitched screams echo over the fields, sounding like a band of demonic coyotes. I still have a mental connection to the reaper and know she’s tearing through them, feeling like she’s doing her duty to her leader. My heart is in my throat, beating fast. Lips parting, I let out a shaky breath.

“I should check on the horses,” I tell Hunter, and put the dagger back in the sheath. The big barn doors have been pushed open by the scrappers, but everyone inside is fine. The only way to lock those doors is from the inside, and I’m hesitant to lock them in case of a fire. It would take too long to get in from the small door to let my animals out. I give everyone more hay, do one more inspection to make sure they’re all okay, and then go back outside.

“We have bodies to burn,” I groan, and Hunter nudges me, letting me know he’ll bring them back. “Thanks,” I tell him and then realize I could ask the reaper to bring back what she’s killed as well. Closing my eyes, all I have to do is think about her to get a mental connection. She’s crouched down in a ditch, eating a strip of flesh she peeled off a scrapper. Gross. Bring back the scrapper bodies. I need to burn them. She sits up, head bobbing up and down.

Startled, I open my eyes. I should feel disturbed, right? I’m communicating with the reaper and she’s listening—and somehow I know she’s a she. I don’t have time to dwell on it at the moment, and I go into the backyard, watching Hunter drag the bodies to our unofficial burn pile. He bristles when the reaper slinks by, tossing three bodies onto the pile.

I put my hand out on Hunter’s back, still a little afraid of the reaper. The reaper moves closer and makes a sound I can only describe as purring. She looks at me, wanting to be praised like a cat who just dropped a dead mouse at its owner’s feet. Tentatively, I reach out and pat her head. The physical contact makes the connection between us even stronger, and she wants my permission to consume the remaining life forces from the scrappers.

“Uh, sure.” I don’t see the harm taking scrapper auras will do. If it feeds her hunger and keeps her from taking human aura, I’m doing humanity a favor, right? The reaper hovers over the pile of bodies, and a sickly green light floats up from the scrappers. It’s fitting that their aura is the color of cat barf.

“Good job,” I tell the reaper when she straightens back up. She makes the weird purring noise again and then snaps her attention at a car coming down the road. “No,” I say sternly, sensing that she wants to pull the driver out and absorb the energy. “Don’t kill humans.” The car slows, and I realize it’s Ethan, returning from the store after buying the security system. It’s a good thing it’s not up yet. Go, I tell the reaper and she slinks away, disappearing into the night.

Tags: Emily Goodwin Grim Gate Paranormal
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