raised a hand to stop him.
“Later, maybe. Timotheus is coming. He can’t find us mopping the damn floor.”
The young Aeternae lowered his gaze in shame and stepped back. Tudyk and Simmon joined him at the base of the stairs while Aganon sauntered lazily out of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes and slowly getting reacquainted with daylight. It had obviously been a long night for everyone, but only Atlas and I didn’t suffer from its aftereffects. The Visentis dynasty looked like crap—except for Petra. She seemed freshly starched.
“You boys took forever to come out,” she observed critically, pursing her lips.
Aganon rolled his eyes. “We needed the rest.”
The door opened again, and in walked a tall and classically handsome Aeternae, complete with broad shoulders and a chin dimple. He wore an elegant navy-blue tunic with white trousers and tall leather boots. Gold buttons jingled as he moved, his light brown hair neatly combed to the side. He looked awfully young to be in charge of anything, yet Petra greeted him with the appropriate respect, bowing politely.
“Good morning, milord,” she said, her voice soft and drizzled with honey. Oh, she definitely had something to gain from being nice to Timotheus. If there was one thing I’d learned about Petra, it was that her acting skills were out of this world. However, because I’d seen her true side, I was now able to tell whether she was being genuine or not. Her smoky blue eyes seemed empty whenever she lied, as if her conscience were comatose.
“Timotheus, please,” the Darkling mayor said. “After all, you’re my Whip, High Priestess.”
“Fair enough. But I would appreciate it if you called me Petra, as well. Whip is… well, it’s not our finest choice of a title, I’ll say that much.”
Timotheus chuckled softly, motioning for her to take a seat. They settled at one of the tables in the middle of the hall while I watched from my lonely corner with Atlas breathing down my neck. Aganon, Tudyk, Simmon, and Moore didn’t move until Petra looked their way.
“Sit down somewhere,” she hissed. “Don’t be rude.”
I could see why Moore was afraid of his own mother. I figured she could be as cruel as she was protective. Petra would kill for her sons, but that didn’t stop her from treating them badly if she wanted to. She certainly enjoyed pushing them around like faithful minions. Maybe I could play on this dysfunctional relationship to eventually free myself. I saved that thought and set it aside as Timotheus looked my way.
“Why isn’t that spirit ghoul chow?” he asked.
“You don’t know who she is. You’ve never seen her.” Petra eyed me with a mixture of muted anger and boredom. She didn’t really want me around, but she definitely thought she could use me. Otherwise I’d have already been digested and gone forever. “That’s Nethissis. The swamp witch killed by one of Zoltan’s ghouls.”
“Oh dear. The outsider that basically caused this whole mess?” Timotheus gasped, suddenly looking as though he’d have loved nothing more than to kill me again.
“Frankly, I blame Zoltan more than anyone. He should’ve known he was being followed, and he should’ve done a better job of disposing of the body,” Petra replied. “Anyway, she’s no longer an issue, and I may have some use for her later. Atlas is keeping an eye on her in the meantime.”
Timotheus smirked as he measured the ghoul from head to toe. “That is a gorgeous beast you have there. Though I see it’s not translucent like the others.”
“A Bounty Reaper as old as Atlas was bound to acquire that skin shade,” Petra explained. Indeed, Atlas did look different from his kind, his skin almost black and leathery. “Well, technically speaking, Atlas is no longer a Bounty Reaper, but a Knight Ghoul. The Bounty Reapers are quite rare. I doubt there are many others in existence. In addition to runaway ghosts, Bounty Reapers usually hunt their fallen brethren. They don’t turn into them. Atlas here is an obvious exception…”
I briefly wondered why Death hadn’t sent a Bounty Reaper to find the First Tenners, considering their expertise. It must’ve had something to do with the First Tenners’ ability to hide—I assumed that not even a Bounty Reaper could find them. They must’ve tried, more than once, if Death had ended up struggling like this… In fact, I specifically remembered Death mentioning she’d sent others to take on the quest of finding Thieron’s pieces, eons ago, only for it to end in tragedy.
“I’m sure he’s good