Her Reaper's Arms, Charlotte Boyett-Compo [world best books to read .TXT] 📗

inside me,” Lea defended herself.

“Then don’t have it, but I would be honored to be the first female Reaper on Terra.

There are others scattered about the megaverse and—”

“There are?” Bevyn interrupted. “Who told you such a thing?”

“I have met one,” Penthe stated. “She is Amazeen. Her name is Kynthia Ancaeus

and she is one of the Cree clan, her hellion having come from a great warrior named

Cainer Cree.”

“That’s a lie,” Bevyn said. “No Amazeen would be given a revenant worm!”

“Ancaeus was,” Penthe declared. “On my honor as a Blackwind, I swear this to

you.”

The Reaper stared at the Amazeen warrioress and she met his eye, never once

looking away until he had gleaned the truth of her statement as she allowed him entry

into her mind.

“Do you believe me now, Coure?” she asked.

“I…” He shook his head. “The High Council needs to hear of this.”

“I will tell them and I will ask to be considered for the honor of receiving a

fledgling,” she said.

“What if your people come after you?” he said. “If you became a Reaper, you

wouldn’t be allowed to return to Amazeen. Surely you must know that.”

Penthe chewed on her lip for a moment then waved a dismissive hand. “It would

not matter. To become a Reaper is an honor no sane woman would deny herself.”

Lea made a rude sound.

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“It’s not likely to happen,” Bevyn said. “But I would have said the same of finding

an Amazeen on Terra to begin with.”

“I can be an ally,” Penthe told him. “I could fight at your back.”

“That sure as hell isn’t going to happen!” Lea snarled. “You are going to stay away

from him!”

The two women glared daggers at one another and Bevyn was wise enough not to

say anything that would make the situation worse. A deafening silence settled inside

the coach with the sharp pelting of the rain against the windows and doors seemingly

louder with every mile they traveled.

By the time the coach stopped at the railway station, the Reaper was more than

ready to get out—pouring rain or not. Being cooped up had taken its toll on his nerves.

Grabbing his slicker, he had even more trouble putting it on than he’d had getting it off,

for Lea didn’t offer to help, daring the Blackwind to offer with eyes that were darting

lethal gray fire.

“Behave, ladies,” Bevyn muttered to the two women as he forced the door open

against the pummeling wind and rain.

“Keep embarrassing him like that and you’ll lose him,” Penthe warned Lea with a

smirk.

“Go fuck yourself,” Lea said, having borrowed that particularly pithy insult from

one of the girls at the White Horse Saloon. She was angry enough to throw herself at the

tall woman whose lip was lifted in a sneer.

“You’re a fool,” Penthe said, laughing. She got up and pushed open the door,

moving out into the deluge.

Sitting there for another minute or two, Lea tried to get her anger under control. It

wasn’t in her to be so combative or confrontational and she had surprised herself. But

Bevyn belonged to her and she belonged to him. She knew he wouldn’t allow any other

woman to come between them, but instinct told her the Amazeen wasn’t going to give

up easily.

Bevyn inspected the train car the three of them would be traveling on, had the

deputy hand down Penthe’s Dóigra and took it to the Amazeen’s private compartment.

The compartment he would share with Lea was small but far enough away from the

one the Blackwind had been assigned that he should be able to keep the women apart

much of the time. Daylight hours would be passed in the social car and the dining car.

“We will be serving lunch about an hour after we depart the station, milord,” the

conductor told Bevyn, nodding politely to the Amazeen as she came to join them.

“I’ve not been on one of these rolling tin cans,” Penthe said. “Do you think they’d

let me see the engine that pulls it?”

“I’ll ask, but I don’t see why not,” Bevyn said. He was grateful the Amazeen was

curious about the train. If she was inspecting it, she wouldn’t be baiting Lea. He swept a

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hand to the seats. “Sit wherever you like. I’m going to get my lady. Your weapon is in

your compartment.” He showed her the quarters.

Penthe watched him leave the train car and run to the stagecoach to open the door.

He stood there for a moment with the rain pouring down on him, seemingly arguing

with the Terran woman.

“Keep it up, bitch,” Penthe said softly. “Annoy him and he’ll start looking

elsewhere for company.”

Settling down in one of the seats so she could watch the Reaper, she laughed when

he threw his hands up and slammed the coach door. But instead of coming back on the

train, he began pacing the covered platform with his hands on his hips, his head down,

as though he were striving to get his anger under control. Even through the downpour,

she could hear his spurs plinking against the platform with each circuit he made. She

saw him stop, lift his head and stare right at her.

“Don’t let her put a leash on you, Reaper,” she whispered to him.

Bevyn heard her words as clearly as though she’d been standing right beside him.

He shook his head, annoyed even more, then stomped back to the stagecoach, jerked

the door open and reached inside.

“Out!” he snapped at Lea. “Now, wench!”

Lea had no choice but to leave the stagecoach. He was pulling on her arm, and from

the look on his face, the set of his clenched jaw, she knew he was upset. One glimpse at

the woman sitting at the window watching them with a hateful smirk made Lea want to

scream.

“I won’t sit with that bitch!” she told her Reaper.

“I am not expecting you to,” he said. “You can stay in the gods-be-damned sleeper

car if you want.”

“And leave her to paw all over you?” she gasped. “I don’t think so!”

“Lea…” he began, and his shoulders slumped. “Wench, she means nothing to me.”

“If you give her one of your parasites…”

“I won’t!” he was quick to tell her. “Why would you think I’d even consider that?”

“I’m