Reaper's Justice by Sarah McCarty Read Free Book Online Page A

face and grimaced as her finger snagged in a snarl. She hated snarls. Hated untidiness. She started finger combing the snarl out, blowing out a breath as she accepted that her hair was the least of her problems. Her neat and orderly life was a rat’s nest of chaos, from the kidnappers on her trail to the strange men who’d rescued her. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about either.
    Could her life get any crazier?
     
     
    HOURS later she had her answer. Maybe it couldn’t get crazier, but it could get worse. She sat on that horse with nothing to do but feel her thighs rub raw against the leather of the saddle, and let her mind race over all the possibilities of what could happen. Hours in which her mental and physical misery multiplied until she wanted to jump out of her skin. And then, as a final insult, the clouds opened up. Cold rain poured over her, plastering her hair to her head, chilling her to the bone. The man behind her on the horse didn’t seem affected at all by the elements. Didn’t seem affected at all by her shivers. Didn’t seem affected by anything. He just kept the horse pointed the way he wanted to go and rode in miserable, irritating silence.
    She groaned as a cramp seized the muscle in her calf. Taking her foot from the stirrup, she tried to ease the ache. It didn’t help. The cramp grew right along with her misery. Another shiver went down her spine. She clenched her teeth against the chill. When was this going to end? Another chill shook her from head to toe, leaving her exhausted. Oh God, she didn’t even care anymore how this ended. She was just so miserable she only needed to know when.
    Gray light pierced the horizon and a few birds chirped. Morning was coming. Did that mean the nightmare was going to end? A glance over her shoulder revealed the truth. Not if she left it to her rescuer. His gaze was set straight ahead and the expression on his lean face said he was prepared to go for hours. She rubbed her thumb over her worry stone in her pocket, searching for courage. She found it in the next hope-killing shiver.
    “We need to stop.”
    “No.”
    At least he was predictable. She grabbed the reins and hauled back. “Yes.”
    The horse snorted and sidestepped. “Son of a bitch.” With a soft whisper, Billings quieted the animal. “Don’t do that again.”
    She ignored her instinctive flinch of fear. Misery loved company and he was too complacent for her peace of mind. “Then listen to me.”
    “You don’t want to stop now.”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “It’s too soon.”
    “For what?”
    “Reapers are unstable after a battle.”
    So they were Reapers. Those legendary shadowy figures that haunted the hills surrounding the town. She didn’t know whether to be comforted or panicked. All she knew of Reapers were the whispers that floated out of the saloons. Some said they were demons sent to earth. Other’s said they were God’s avenging angels. No one said they were safe. And she was riding with one. Dear heavens, her luck was nothing but bad. “Rumor is, Reapers aren’t that stable before a battle, either. Or any time in between.”
    That twitch of his mouth might be a smile. “That’s true.”
    “But what does that matter to me?”
    “Beyond the fact that you’re riding with one?”
    “Yes.” Beyond his physical stoicism, she didn’t see much difference between him and anyone else. He looked neither demon nor angel. He was certainly less expressive than her cousin. Cole wasn’t one for holding back when he thought someone was playing the fool.
    “He’ll make his move when we stop.”
    That sounded ominous. “He will?”
    “He’ll take it as a sign.”
    That sounded worse. She kicked the horse. Maybe she should heed the saying “Stick with the devil you know.” She knew Billings. “Let’s go then.”
    Billings looked over his shoulder and stiffened. “Too late.”
    “No, it’s not.”
    Her nerves went taut in a flare of alarm that wasn’t the least