Chapter Twenty-Six

Lying there, with Razor’s arms wrapped around her and her face pressed into his neck, Sasha was sure she had died and gone to Heaven already. She inhaled deeply, more of his intoxicating scent filling her. Completing her.

But as she was coming down from her high, she could feel his muscles bunching together, a subtle tightness she was only aware of because she was so in tune with him. She wasn’t sure exactly what he was thinking about, but it was nothing good.

The undeniable urge to tell him everything about her past was suddenly unavoidable. Only Sael and Xavier knew everything, but Razor had earned the right to know. She wanted him to know everything.

Sasha kissed his lips gently, then sat up and scrubbed a hand over her face. It was going to take a lot of strength to do this. “There’s something I want you to know.”

He pushed himself up to sit up instantly, his gaze serious now. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s something else. It’s ah…” Her mouth closed. Then opened. Then closed again. Shit. This was going to be harder than she thought. Where did she even start?

Thankfully, he didn’t push her, just gave her the time she needed.

Could she really do this?

She wanted to.

She had to.

Sasha took a deep breath and closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel the emotions she’d always locked away. On one hand, she really didn’t want to discuss what she viewed as the worst part of her life. On the other hand, she wanted to be completely honest with him, and that meant telling him about her final Salvae, and the meaning behind it all. And her babies.

“You know I haven’t always been a Reaper for Shadow Realm, so I guess I’ll begin by saying that I spent my early years in Russia. About twenty years. Russian even became the only language I spoke. As you might have guessed by my speech when I’m angry.”

They shared a faint smile at the humor, but then she was serious again.

“Sorry, let me back up a little. My first lifetime was…not easy. Life was much different back then. By sixteen, I was already a Reaper, and that transition alone wasn’t fun. By eighteen, I was betrothed. His name was Ivan, and I didn’t know until after we were married that he was the biggest asshole.”

She winced, remembering how she’d seen Ivan in her young, naïve state: he was strong, handsome, noble, and the man she thought she could love for the rest of her life. She shook her head with a sigh.

Razor silently pulled her into his lap, lending her his support, but not interrupting.

“I wish I had known he was an asshole sooner. I only met him the day before we were to be wed. He was nice enough then. I suppose he was nice the day of our wedding, too, but I don’t remember much of it. I was so nervous, it’s all just a blur.” She waved a hand dismissively. “He also had no knowledge of what I was. He thought I was human. I had been told that it would be okay, and even encouraged, to share my status as a Reaper with him, but it never sat right with me to share. He led his human life, and I tried to do the same, leading my Reaper life in secret. I soon found that it wasn’t that difficult. We hardly spent time together. I had my house and work to take care of; he had his social life and business. Still, I believed it was a good match and that we would grow to love each other.”

There was a brief pause as she listened to Razor’s steady breathing and felt his heartbeat, in sync with her own.

“I was pregnant within the first few months of our marriage, as was expected.” Her tone was now detached, clinical. Otherwise she knew she wouldn’t be able to continue. “I had a daughter, Emma. She was the light of my life. The happiest baby I ever knew. Time passed, Ivan and I still living our own lives and ignorant of what the other did.

“Although I wasn’t out every night and still very young in Reaper terms, I was quite active in my Reaping. I knew there were other Reapers out there, but I didn’t interact with many of them. Back then, Xavier used to Call with the name into our minds so we knew who we were going to when we had to reap a soul.

“One afternoon, I was hanging out with a friend, excited for that night. Emma was a little over three years old, and I had found out that morning I was expecting again. Even though we were living more like roommates than husband and wife, I still couldn’t wait to tell Ivan. When he was around, he was a good father. I received a Call soon after the visit with my friend ended.”

Her voice shook just a fraction, but she quickly clamped her mouth shut and tried to control herself.

Razor’s arms tightened around her as he nuzzled against her neck.

Breathe in.

Razor’s scent.

Breathe out.

Her lips trembled.

“I can still hear Xavier’s voice when I close my eyes,” she whispered. “Emma Parishkov. Age three years, two months.”

Razor’s breath caught. She heard it. But half of her was still stuck in the past, and she made herself go on.

“Emma had died in her sleep. I found out later she had a heart condition we never knew about. Ivan had just come home and had gone into her room to check on her. He found her first. I was across the mansion when the Call came to me. I fought it with every cell in my body. I would not let myself go to her. It wasn’t real. It was a nightmare.

“The pain…I can’t even describe it. But no matter the physical pain I felt at refusing the Call, it was nothing compared to losing her. Nothing. I must have passed out from the pain, even hoped I was dying. But when I opened my eyes, I found myself in Emma’s room. Ivan was there, waiting for me. He was just as distraught. And furious. Turns out, he had been spying on me for days, and had seen me taking souls.

“With Others still living in secret in the human realm, he had no idea what he had seen. He thought I had killed those people. Killed Emma. Ivan saw me as a monster, a despicable thing that only brought death wherever it went. In that moment, I believed it, too. So when he started to kick me, I let him. I was convinced the baby in my womb didn’t deserve a monster for a mother. But even if I’d wanted to, I could barely speak to defend myself, so I didn’t even try. When I was bleeding and sick everywhere, I felt like it wasn’t enough. Like I deserved more. Ivan left before knowing I had been pregnant. It didn’t matter, I had already destroyed everything.”

She fell silent and opened her eyes to look up at Razor.

Cords of muscle stuck out of his neck, and her gaze traveled up to his jaw, which was working to grind his molars aggressively. When he exhaled, she half expected to see steam unfurl from his nostrils. It wasn’t surprising to see the mirror of the beast in his eyes when they opened.

“Is he alive?” Such menace dripped from the short syllables that it was obvious he was picturing how many ways he could torture her ex-husband.

The Judge’s verdict had been made without hesitation.

Sasha’s fingers smoothed over his jaw. “No. He was very much human. I didn’t keep tabs on him after I left Russia, but he’s been dead a long time.”

The beast and man’s hostility faded, leaving a tenderness in his eyes. She was sure she was one of the very few who got to see such vulnerability in him. Tears filled his eyes on her behalf, only serving to make her tear up again. While neither of them let their tears spill over, his arms tightened around her and held her as close to his chest as possible.

Pressing her face into the curve of his neck, she hugged him back. He didn’t have to say anything. His body and energy spoke to her. They shared a mutual embrace both physically and mentally, and his thoughts told her everything she needed to know.

“I’m sorry, Sasha,” he said gently.

“Thank you,” Sasha whispered. “For everything.”

“I love you, pretty girl.” His lips tenderly brushed her neck, her cheeks, her eyelids, her lips.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened, ready to continue. There was a strength in her she’d never felt before. It wasn’t that Razor made her stronger himself; he simply allowed her to recognize the strength she carried in herself to heal even her deepest wounds, turning her weaknesses into strengths.

“After the deaths of my children, I fled. Xavier assigned me here. I was an absolute mess. When I learned about Salvae, I was on a mission to find them as quickly as possible. I know you know a little of this by now, but Reapers don’t really die. It takes a lot to kill us, but when we do die, we are then reincarnated. The timing is always a little ambiguous, but we eventually come back. Don’t ask me the process—I don’t know the specifics. But after each ‘death,’ we have a choice. If we no longer wish to be brought back, we can choose a permanent death.

“Since our souls are…different, we have to choose where it goes. So to be able to go to Heaven or the Pit, we have to accomplish a nearly impossible, and sometimes horrible, task. We find our three Salvae, and we have to deliver their bodies with souls—torn out before their death—to the realm we wish to go. Sometimes that means delivering a pure soul to the Pit, or a corrupted soul into Heaven. It’s an unnatural task, and risky. But I never cared what it took.

“I stopped living in my search. I really did. Anger and guilt pushed me on from day to day, and the sole purpose of my life was my mission. I needed to get my soul to Heaven to be with my children again. I tried to complete my Salvae three times. But I can’t do that anymore.”

She fell quiet for a long time, with Razor simply running his hands up and down her arms, her back, anywhere he could reach to provide her with comfort.

Finally, he prompted her. “Why?”

Sasha looked up and met his gaze. “Because you happened. I didn’t get to that third soul in time because you killed my last Salvae.” She used a finger to smooth out the frown between his eyebrows. “Yes, I was furious. I believed my life had become worthless now that I couldn’t finish my goal. Every time I had attempted to find Salvae in the past, something always stopped me from finishing. It scared me to even consider moving on with my life. Then you happened, and I thought that maybe someone up there was trying to send me a message with all these failed Salvae. Maybe it’s my babies.” She shrugged, eyes filling with tears again. “It took a while, but I’m ready to listen now and give life another shot. With you. When I left Russia, I might as well have been dead. You brought me back to life. And one day, I will be reunited with my children. But not yet.”

His eyes were shiny as he kissed her tenderly. “You’re a remarkable woman, Sasha. Thank you for giving yourself another chance. You’ve made me the happiest man on New Earth.”

His arms tightened around her, letting her feel every part of his love for her. It was exactly the balm she’d needed.

...

Razor had just stepped out of the shower when there was a knock on the door to his rooms. The additional mental knock told him it was his brothers. He looked at the clock on the wall. Six a.m. That was early even for Night, who kept odd hours. Must be important.

He nudged Sasha, who grumbled sleepily and rolled to her side on the rumpled bed. The sound made him ridiculously happy.

“Sorry, pretty girl. We have company.” He leaned over and kissed her temple.

She opened one eye. “What time is it?”

He chuckled. “Six. I’m going to go open the door now. Night’s been sending me mental death glares for making him wait outside.”

“Such an asshole,” she mumbled, but got out of bed. He took a small moment to admire her nakedness before he left the bedroom and shut the door behind him. As soon as the door was closed, he felt strangely uncomfortable with having a naked Sasha just in the other room with his brothers in residence. Which was lunacy, since just a few hours ago, he’d been happily fucking her on a table in the middle of a packed club. Somehow, though, this situation felt entirely different.

Shaking it off, he threw open the door, more than a little annoyed that whatever the mating symptoms were, it included feeling cautious of any male within touching distance of his mate. Even his brothers.

“About bloody time. Goddess, this place smells like sex,” Night said the second he stepped into the room.

“Yeah, good morning to you, too.”

“I brought coffee,” Sin said, showing him a tray with several mugs and a steaming pot.

“Ahhh, I knew you were my favorite for a reason.” Razor inhaled the scent of the freshly brewed coffee as Sin walked past him, Edge following closely behind.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Raz. I’ll bring you coffee even if Edge is your favorite. We all know it’s only a matter of time before you put up a picture of him over your bed,” his baby brother said cheekily.

Razor laughed as Edge ruffled Sin’s hair, giving him a rare crooked grin.

“Morning, Edge,” Razor greeted.

His big brother gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Congratulations, Razor. Where is your mate this morning?”

That was all Razor needed to feel something settle inside him. There had been no need for a conversation. They’d all embraced her, and that would be that.

“I’m here,” Sasha answered as she stepped out of the bedroom, now showered and dressed.

Night and Sin turned, flashing bright smiles at her. Edge’s smile wasn’t as huge, but it was enough for him to see the “welcome to the family” sentiment in it.

Razor’s face must have reflected the emotions churning inside him, because Night said, “Let’s sit down and talk business before Razor starts weeping.”

They all laughed. Razor didn’t.

Fifteen minutes later, all Razor could do was rub at his weary eyes.

“Is Romina sure this spell will work?” Night inquired, turning over a blue velvet pouch in his hand. Inside were the ingredients to a counter-spell, one Romina had assured Edge would break the glamour she had spoken about yesterday.

Edge leaned back against the couch. “I believed her when she said she made it specifically to target this particular glamour.”

According to the Witch, she had done a complicated trace of the magic, and it had led her to Valtu. She had no doubt it was the Demon herself using the glamour. Valtu had been walking around the Night House, and who knew where else, while looking like someone else. Right under their noses.

Gods, Razor wanted this Demon dead like he’d never wanted anything in his life.

Night considered the pouch again. “I trust her, but this bloody pouch looks like something I’d put in my bathroom to make it smell good.”

“You have potpourri in your bathroom?” Sin chortled. Sasha snorted. Razor was too troubled to poke fun at Night.

Night glared at Sin. “Yes, you have a problem with it, pup?”

Sin raised his hands, mouth twitching in amusement. “Nope. Not a one.”

“So, tell me again how and when you guys are supposed to use this counter-spell?” Sasha asked, playing with a strap on her jacket.

“Romina said we’ll need blood to activate it,” Edge replied. “Only mine, Razor’s, Night’s, or Sin’s will work. We can’t trust anyone outside of us present. As hard as this is for everyone, not even the commanders, other Reapers, Gabriel, or Luka can be trusted right now.” Edge looked meaningfully at Sin. “But it’s necessary.”

Their younger brother dipped his head in understanding.

“The spell needs to be activated while the club is full,” Edge continued. “The more bodies it hits, the better our chances. When the glamour is broken, a yellow aura-looking mark will appear around the Demon. Romina said that’s how we’ll know it’s Valtu.”

Night crossed one leg over the other. “Why do you keep talking about activating this thing in my club while it’s full?”

Edge exhaled sharply, impatience with Night clear in the way he leaned forward. “Romina sent out a summoning spell that will create a compulsion in Valtu. She’ll suddenly need to come to the Night House. Won’t be able to help herself. That’s where we get her.”

As Edge spoke, Night’s eyes grew wider until they were huge and full of horror. Razor couldn’t blame him—he was protective of his club, and understandably so. His brother had worked hard to make the Night House what it was.

Night’s gaze now burned violet fire. “I knew you were hiding something from me. Why the bloody fuck did she do that? And why does it have to be in my club? All I hear in that plan is destruction.”

“This Demon is taking the form of someone who has access to the club. If I had asked Romina to weave the spell with a different destination, it might have raised suspicion.” Edge leaned back in his chair. “Romina is confident Valtu won’t know why she has the urgency to get to the Night House. We’ll use that to our advantage and make sure we meet her in battle on our terms, not hers.”

Night groaned. “Now you’re saying battle. My poor baby. Let’s try to go for instant death, no battle. And I’m taking any reparation costs out of your portion of the funds.” He pointed at Sin. “Make a note.”

Razor looked around, wondering if this was as funny to them as it was to him. They were all trying hard not to laugh.

Even Edge’s lips twitched. “I’m sorry, Night. I won’t make any promises.”

“If we have nothing else to address, can we get back to work?” Sin asked, tapping away at the 3D touchscreen tablet in front of him. “I have a lot of things to prepare.”

“I’ll get with the commanders and shift some people around so we have at least two or three of them nearby when the shit goes down,” Razor added.

“Let’s get to it,” Edge commanded.