Season's Reapings (A Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc. Holiday Short Story) Read online

  When we reached the bottom of the embankment, we took shelter from the wind behind a snowdrift. On the opposite side stretched a flat, white vastness. The road cutting through it was only visible by faint tire tracks where the sun reflected off bluish ice peeking through the snow.

  I checked my watch. Santa would be coming to town—eh, this icy patch of nowhere anyway—in twenty minutes.

  Gabriel huddled in next to me, sandwiching Saul between our legs. The wind howled, and I tucked my hands into my armpits, wishing I had a goofy hat to keep my ears warm too. I didn’t have to worry about it for long, as they soon went numb.

  “Did you hear that?” Gabriel asked, lifting a mittened hand up to peel back an earflap.

  “It’s just the wind. He’s still too far out to hear his truck coming.”

  “It didn’t sound like a truck. It sounded like—there! There it is again,” he whispered.

  I held my breath, concentrating on the noise that filtered through the rushing wind. The rock rock call of a raven sounded overhead, and an ethereal howl replied. Saul’s ears perked.

  The skin on the back of my neck tingled and a chill shook my shoulders. “What the hell? Shouldn’t all the critters around these parts have migrated or hibernated by now?”

  “Not that,” Gabriel hissed. “It’s more like … like…”

  “The arrival of divine justice?” a booming voice finished.

  A can of angelica mace was in my hand before I looked up. The newcomer flapped open his massive wings, holding them wide as he landed. With the sun at his back, he cast an impressive shadow across the snow. A golden breastplate hugged his chest, and he held a matching shield in one hand and a sword in his other.

  Gabriel spat out a colorful string of profanities as he struggled to remove his mittens, before finally forfeiting dignity and ripping one off with his teeth. He threw it to the ground and pulled off the other, leaving the goofy hat on his head. The time for playing it cool had passed.

  “Michael. What are you doing here?” he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

  The imposing angel stepped forward. His chest puffed out and he lifted his chin. “I’m here to collect Saint Nicholas. The reapers have been commissioned for lesser souls, but it is still my duty to deliver the saints unto Heaven.”

  Gabriel scowled. “The Board of Heavenly Hosts should have notified you. The Afterlife Council assigned this soul to Lana.” He nodded his head in my direction, leaving his eyes on Michael.

  “My orders come from on high.” Michael snorted. “The almighty does not barter away sacred souls like the Egyptian gods do.”

  Gabriel’s hands curled into fists. “The almighty signed a peace treaty and agreed to work within the council’s parameters. You must go through the proper channels. Unless you’re claiming allegiance with the rebels now?”

  “I did not come here to fight you, brother,” Michael said, oozing sincerity.

  “Right.” Gabriel folded his arms. “Tell me, do you bring a sword to all of your soul heists, or just the unsanctioned ones?”

  “I had hoped you would make this easy by doing the right thing, but I feared it would come to this.”

  “Sword or not, I will pluck you like the chicken you are if you lay a finger on that soul.” Gabriel’s skin glowed softly as his wings expanded out to mirror Michael’s.

  The sound of a truck grumbled in the distance. I peeked around the snowdrift just as it broke the horizon. About a quarter mile up from us was another mound of snow, and as I watched the truck approach, a black wolf poked its head out to glance up the road too. It turned suddenly, lifting its muzzle in the air, and then locked eyes with me. Something primal about the creature’s gaze made my breath catch. I quickly ducked back behind the snowdrift.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  Gabriel and Michael paused long enough to blink at me.

  “There’s a black wolf up ahead, and it’s fixin’ to get the jump on us.”

  “A wolf?” Michael frowned.

  The momentary distraction seemed to cue Gabriel. He caught the other angel under the chin with a closed fist, sending him reeling. Michael’s wings fluttered in surprise, pushing him back on his feet. He lifted his sword to strike, but Gabriel kicked the underside of his shield, pushing the heavy rim up to crack Michael in the chin a second time.

  “What are you waiting for? Go get that soul!” Gabriel shouted at me. His wings opened and launched him into the sky with a single thrust. He immediately tucked them against his body and torpedoed into Michael’s shield, knocking the sword out of the angel’s grasp as he pinned him to the ground.

  I shoved the angelica mace in my robe pocket and dug a hunting knife out of my boot. Then I rounded the snowdrift and took off at a dead sprint across the icy road with Saul close on my heels. There weren’t as many drifts on the opposite side, and the ground was slicker, but the small distance would be my only advantage once I reached the spot where I’d seen the wolf. If the thing made a move on me, I might actually see it coming before it tore my throat out.

  The truck was getting closer, and while the coordinates in the file had shown the trampling would take place near where Gabriel was busy thrashing Michael, something told me poor Santy would be meeting an earlier end, especially when I caught sight of a dark figure clinging to the roof of the truck trailer. I came to a sudden stop and shielded my eyes with my hand, squinting through the brightness of the white landscape to identify who or what it might be.

  “Mother f—”

  A heavy weight landed on my back and pushed me face first into the snow. Something yanked at the hood of my robe, and fierce growls echoed all around. When I tore my robe free and rolled over, I came face to face with the black wolf. Its roadkill breath rolled out in a sticky fog, making me gag.

  Saul growled and I glanced over my shoulder to find him in a standoff with a second wolf. The beasts were only a hair bigger than my hound. If they had been ordinary wolves, I might have liked our chances. But they weren’t ordinary, and our chances sucked.

  As the wolf in front of me advanced, I scrambled onto my knees and lifted my hunting knife, pointing the blade out under my fist as I crossed my arm over my chest. With my other hand I fumbled around in my pocket for a coin. Currency travel was no longer active in Limbo City, but it worked fine in the mortal realm. I just needed to get close enough to Saul so we could merge auras. I couldn’t leave him behind.

  “Saul.” My voice broke and I had to swallow before trying again. “Saul, veni. Veni.”

  His growl took on a more aggressive note as he reluctantly backed away from the other wolf. I could tell it annoyed him to give up the ground he was holding, so I crawled backward on my knees, meeting him halfway.

  Something akin to recognition lit in the wolves’ eyes once Saul reached my side, and as I rolled the coin in my hand, they leapt at us. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around Saul’s neck, praying to anyone who’d listen that the wolves didn’t reach us in time.

  When I opened my eyes next, we were alone, sitting atop a snow mound further up the road. The wolves were far behind us, circling and sniffing the spot we’d just evacuated. I scratched Saul’s ears, and he let out an indignant snort. Clearly he disapproved of my decision to duck tail.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. This harvest is way more important than proving you’re top dog.”

  His ears lay flat and he groaned.

  The truck was much closer now, but whatever had been on the roof was gone. With an unpredictable harvest underway and creatures on the prowl, it seemed like an ideal place to hold up. I climbed down off the snow pile and took a good look around, trying to get a more accurate measurement for what was probably not one of my better ideas. If I took the coordinates from the center of the road and timed it just right, I could catch a ride with Saint Nick until his untimely demise. It was no one horse open sleigh, but it would have to do.

  Saul watched me with perked ears, as if he were trying to comprehend the plan I was h
atching. He occasionally glanced back in the direction of the wolves and tilted his muzzle up to sniff the air. I knew he’d let me know if they got too close. I was just hoping the truck would reach us first.

  “You’ll have to follow by foot,” I told him, fitting my knife back inside my boot. I was going to need a free hand for this—probably both of them—but the coin wasn’t going to roll itself.

  My heart thrummed anxiously as the truck neared. I jumped up and down a few times and rubbed my hands together to warm up. Then I peeled off my robe and discarded it in the snow. If I survived this stupidity, I’d retrieve it later.

  When the truck was about fifty yards out, I backed up a few paces and turned parallel to the road, facing the direction it was headed. My breath rushed in and out, burning my lungs with the frosty air. This was going to be one for the record, and no one was even around to see it. No one who could recount the valiant details to an enthralled crowd anyway, I thought, raising an eyebrow at Saul.

  The truck was almost on us. I could see the driver’s beard through the windshield. As a reaper, I didn’t have to worry about him seeing me until I pulled his soul from his body. Unless he was an original believer of some sort. Then things would get interesting.

  I couldn’t tell if his aura had that mystical glow to it from where I stood, but I supposed if he freaked out when I leapt onto the roof of his truck, I’d know then.

  “This better work,” I grumbled. Then I patted Saul on the hip and said the Latin command for follow. “Sequere.”

  Right before the truck reached us, I ran for the snow mound, maintaining momentum as I climbed up the slope. When I reached the top, I threw myself off the other side, rolling my coin at the same time.

  Maybe it was a good thing no one was around to see. I wasn’t exactly a ballerina. The coin shot me out right where I’d expected it to. My feet connected with the roof of the trailer a split second before my ass did, and then my head followed suit as I rolled backward down the length of cold sheet metal. My coin popped out of my hand and clinked along the roof, quickly disappearing over the edge. Super.

  The graceless tumble had left me about three quarters of the way down the trailer, and even though I was now lying flat, the wind was slowly pushing me toward the rear of the truck. I spread my hands out and found grooves in the metal to sink my fingers down inside. It was dumb luck. I pressed my cheek to the roof with a sigh.

  Rock. Rock. Rock.

  My head jerked head up with a start. Two ravens crisscrossed through the sky above me. Saul bayed a warning in the distance when one of them nosedived for the truck. I rolled onto my back and pulled my shoulder out of the way just as its beak stabbed the roof. It screeched in surprise, shaking its black head as it lifted back into the air.

  The second bird dove next, taking a more calculated jab at me. I tried to navigate my body away from it, but the pressing wind and bounce of the trailer hindered my reflexes. I yelped as the bird’s beak pierced through my jeans and into my thigh.

  The raven squawked victoriously, inviting its companion to try again, and I was soon fending off both of them. The black figure I’d seen on the roof earlier apparently had good reason to bolt.

  The braver of the two ravens went for my thigh again, but I swung my leg around in a quick arc, kicking it off the side of the truck. Its wings flapped unevenly as it righted itself, only to waver again as Saul leapt through the air and snapped at it. The hound wasn’t quite as fast as the truck, but he was making a good show.

  The squeal of brakes turned my attention back to the road ahead, and the remaining raven took flight, fleeing the roof. I tried to roll over and grab the grooves in the metal again, but the sudden stop sent me ass over elbows toward the front of the truck.

  As I bounced off the edge of the trailer and onto the roof of the cab, I noticed a creature in the road just ahead. It looked like a giant horse, but something was wrong with its legs. I couldn’t get a good look though, as Gabriel suddenly filled my line of sight.

  “I gotcha! I gotcha!” he shouted.

  The angel’s face was bruised and bloody under his ridiculous hat, and his feathers were a ruffled mess. He moved side to side in the air, arms spread wide, like a soccer goalie defending the final kick of a game. He was about to get a kick all right.

  The horse whinnied and reared back on its hind quarters. At the same time its front hooves landed on Gabriel’s back, my face slammed against the hood of the truck. My vision went spotty, and suddenly I was airborne.

  I tasted blood on my tongue, probably from my teeth cutting open the inside of my cheek. It leaked out the corner of my mouth, zipping across my cheek like a line of fire. My stomach did a little flip-flop, and then clenched as I collided midair with Gabriel, halfway through the trajectory of his own assault.

  I heard something snap, but I couldn’t tell if it was on me or the angel. We were too entangled to tell apart, and my everything hurt already. Our fall to the road wasn’t any less painful. I groaned and dug my fingers into the snow, pulling myself away from Gabriel. His wings beat wildly, one stretching out decidedly further than the other, while his breath hissed through his teeth. His eyes were tightly closed, and the square of his shoulders told me there was another wing splint in his future.

  The truck door slammed, and the sound of boots crunching through snow drew my attention back to the assignment. Nick came around to the front of his truck and stopped short, looking past us in surprise. Despite his coveralls and dirty flannel shirt, he looked very much like Santa.

  “What’s this?” He gasped and took a careful step forward.

  I looked over my shoulder at Gabriel’s assailant. The horse looked even bigger than before from my vantage point. It was a light gray, and upon closer inspection, I realized there was nothing at all wrong with its legs. No, they looked just fine. All eight of them.

  “Guess we know why it couldn’t be identified,” I said, glancing back at Gabriel.

  He grunted in reply as he slowly pulled himself up from the ice. I stood too and stepped out of Nick’s path as he approached the mutant horse. I didn’t want to get in the middle of his fateful end. I’d been trampled enough for one day, thank you.

  Warning growls whispered from the roadside. I glanced over to find Saul safeguarding the scene from the two wolves. They crept in an inch closer at a time, their amber eyes wide and focused on Nick as he neared the horse. The ravens watched too, silently perched on the truck trailer. Gabriel and I exchanged an anxious look.

  A shot echoed through the air, and the horse nickered suddenly, jumping back in surprise. A spot of blood bloomed on its muscular chest. It curled its four front legs up in the air, bringing them down hard on the ice.

  Another loud noise made me jump, but it wasn’t gunfire this time. The road moved beneath my feet, sinking unsteadily as the ice broke. My balance faltered, and I grabbed Gabriel’s arm. Nick backed away from the horse, coming to a stop beside me. A shiver danced over his shoulders as he looked down, his eyes going wide with terror. The sound of rushing water crept up from below, and then the patch of ice beneath us gave away.

  Nick went through first, disappearing under the dark currents. Gabriel held fast to my hand as he took flight, his injured wing trying to manage the addition of my weight as his face contorted with agony.

  A black cloaked figure appeared just beyond the hole on the opposite side from the horse. It had to be the hitcher I’d seen on the truck’s roof earlier. A white hand reached up to pull back the hood, and a familiar face grinned at me. Silver studs filled the dimples in both of her cheeks and dotted the curve of one ear, which was fully visible since the sides of her head were shaved, leaving a short Mohawk running down the center.

  It had been a long time since I’d seen Tasha Henry, but even with her demon rocker makeover, she couldn’t fool me. We were from the same generation of reapers. Our education and initial training had been received side by side. After she’d fallen in with the wrong crowd a few months back, s
he’d been declared a traitor and member of the rebel forces.

  Tasha peeled off her robe and tucked a pistol in the waistband of her jeans. Then she winked at me and jumped in after Nick.

  “Give me a coin!” I shouted up at Gabriel, twisting my arm. “Give me a coin and let go!”

  He looked torn, but he thrust one hand down in his robe and quickly pressed a coin in my palm. “Don’t die,” he said through clenched teeth. Then he let go.

  Hitting the water took my breath away. The cold gripped my body, making my muscles spasm. I tried to move my arms and legs, but it was like swimming through setting concrete. The water was dark, faintly illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the ice above. A pair of hands ran along the surface, clearing away snow and allowing more light in. Gabriel’s worried face peered down at me as he tried to follow the currents from above.

  My lungs ached, begging for another breath as I pulled ahead, searching for any sign of Tasha or Nick. Chunks of ice sailed past me, ripping at my clothes and hair, and a grumble sounded through the water, turning my head back toward the hole. It was growing. The road cracked and splintered under the shadow of the truck, and then it dropped into the water, bringing the cab with it.

  I twisted around and clawed at the water, dragging myself forward. A flurry of motion caught my eye and I rotated left, spotting Tasha as she pulled Nick’s soul free. It flashed a soft green—something I’d never seen before—but definitely not the bluish hue of an original believer. Nick’s body floated away on the currents, eyes wide and vacant.

  Tasha fumbled in her pocket, likely for a coin, but I reached her first. I knotted my fist in Nick’s beard and rolled Gabriel’s coin.

  We landed in a mound of snow, all three of us, convulsing and choking up the icy water in our lungs. Tasha reached for her pistol, but Gabriel caught her hand, pushing her back against the snow as he confiscated the weapon. She bared her teeth at him, but the effect was somewhat muted by how badly they chattered.