Read Online WesternWind 4 - Tears of the Reaper by Charlotte Boyett-Compo - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
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man’s face.
“Elder Carlton was not the first to die in this manner.”
Owen looked across the body to the healer. “Barrow didn’t tell me that.”
Deep creases formed in the healer’s forehead. “That surprises me for it was his nephew who was the first to die.”
“When was this?”
“Five months ago. There has been a death each month since.”
Owen blinked. “And your militia hasn’t been out to investigate?”
Healer Benjamin shrugged. “The other deaths appeared to be the work of wild animals. The bodies were mangled,” he replied. “This is the first where there are no deep scratches or ragged bite marks.”
“Were there puncture wounds like these on the other victims?”
“Aye and all the blood was gone. Gilbreth found not a drop when he prepared them for burial. The bodies had been savaged horribly.”
Putting his fingertips to the dual wounds on the dead man’s throat, Owen unconsciously swept his tongue over his own lateral incisors. “No animal did this,” he said.
“Perhaps not this one,” Healer Benjamin said. “Elder Barrow believes it to be the work of a balgair. I suppose…” He stopped for the Reaper had bent over and flicked out his tongue, dragging it across the puncture wounds. He slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from gagging.
“Not balgair,” Owen said as he straightened up. There was confusion on his handsome face. “Not Reaper DNA either.” He stepped back from the table. “Something else, something not human.”
“Then it is an animal,” the healer said against the camouflage of his hand.
“No, not animal,” the Reaper stated. “I need to be alone for a few minutes.”
The healer’s face drained of color and he quickly turned away. He was out of the room before Owen could tell him he needed to contact the Shadowlords at the Citadel.
“What the hell do you think I’m going to do to the body?” he grumbled as Healer Benjamin firmly closed the door. “Eat it?”
Well, he thought as he looked around for a place to sit down, it wouldn’t be the first time a Reaper had consumed a dead body. It just wasn’t something he had ever contemplated doing, but then again, the need had never arisen.
Locating a chair, he sat down with his knees spread and braced his elbows on his thighs. The headache was making it hard for him to think coherently and he knew he was missing something here, something vitally important. Attempting to clear his mind of the pain and the myriad thoughts crowding it, he closed his eyes and called Lord Kheelan’s name.
He didn’t have long to wait before the High Lord answered.
“You are well, Lord Owen?”
“No,” Owen answered, “but we have a situation here and I need your help.”
There was a minute pause then Lord Kheelan asked him where he was.
“Some place I gods be damned have no business being,” Owen replied. “I’m in Manontaque.”
“You are correct in saying you should not be there but I sense more to this. What is wrong with you, Owen?”
“I believe I have tenerse poisoning,” he admitted. “I’ve been taking too much of the drug.”
Censure filled the High Lord’s voice. “Abusing the drug to forget your problems is not what I imagined you would do when I granted you leave. I thought you a stronger man than that.”
Owen flinched. “I thought I was too, but my condition is unimportant. The Colony where I am has had several murders. One of the elders thought it was a balgair.”
“In the Provinces?” Lord Kheelan exclaimed. “We have had no Intel on that.”
“It isn’t a balgair,” Owen stated. “It’s something else and I’m not sure there’s just one of them.”
There was another long pause and Owen had the impression Lord Kheelan was conferring with Lords Naois and Dunham. When the High Lord spoke again, he asked Owen to concentrate on the taste he had
“Elder Carlton was not the first to die in this manner.”
Owen looked across the body to the healer. “Barrow didn’t tell me that.”
Deep creases formed in the healer’s forehead. “That surprises me for it was his nephew who was the first to die.”
“When was this?”
“Five months ago. There has been a death each month since.”
Owen blinked. “And your militia hasn’t been out to investigate?”
Healer Benjamin shrugged. “The other deaths appeared to be the work of wild animals. The bodies were mangled,” he replied. “This is the first where there are no deep scratches or ragged bite marks.”
“Were there puncture wounds like these on the other victims?”
“Aye and all the blood was gone. Gilbreth found not a drop when he prepared them for burial. The bodies had been savaged horribly.”
Putting his fingertips to the dual wounds on the dead man’s throat, Owen unconsciously swept his tongue over his own lateral incisors. “No animal did this,” he said.
“Perhaps not this one,” Healer Benjamin said. “Elder Barrow believes it to be the work of a balgair. I suppose…” He stopped for the Reaper had bent over and flicked out his tongue, dragging it across the puncture wounds. He slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from gagging.
“Not balgair,” Owen said as he straightened up. There was confusion on his handsome face. “Not Reaper DNA either.” He stepped back from the table. “Something else, something not human.”
“Then it is an animal,” the healer said against the camouflage of his hand.
“No, not animal,” the Reaper stated. “I need to be alone for a few minutes.”
The healer’s face drained of color and he quickly turned away. He was out of the room before Owen could tell him he needed to contact the Shadowlords at the Citadel.
“What the hell do you think I’m going to do to the body?” he grumbled as Healer Benjamin firmly closed the door. “Eat it?”
Well, he thought as he looked around for a place to sit down, it wouldn’t be the first time a Reaper had consumed a dead body. It just wasn’t something he had ever contemplated doing, but then again, the need had never arisen.
Locating a chair, he sat down with his knees spread and braced his elbows on his thighs. The headache was making it hard for him to think coherently and he knew he was missing something here, something vitally important. Attempting to clear his mind of the pain and the myriad thoughts crowding it, he closed his eyes and called Lord Kheelan’s name.
He didn’t have long to wait before the High Lord answered.
“You are well, Lord Owen?”
“No,” Owen answered, “but we have a situation here and I need your help.”
There was a minute pause then Lord Kheelan asked him where he was.
“Some place I gods be damned have no business being,” Owen replied. “I’m in Manontaque.”
“You are correct in saying you should not be there but I sense more to this. What is wrong with you, Owen?”
“I believe I have tenerse poisoning,” he admitted. “I’ve been taking too much of the drug.”
Censure filled the High Lord’s voice. “Abusing the drug to forget your problems is not what I imagined you would do when I granted you leave. I thought you a stronger man than that.”
Owen flinched. “I thought I was too, but my condition is unimportant. The Colony where I am has had several murders. One of the elders thought it was a balgair.”
“In the Provinces?” Lord Kheelan exclaimed. “We have had no Intel on that.”
“It isn’t a balgair,” Owen stated. “It’s something else and I’m not sure there’s just one of them.”
There was another long pause and Owen had the impression Lord Kheelan was conferring with Lords Naois and Dunham. When the High Lord spoke again, he asked Owen to concentrate on the taste he had
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