Reaping a Pain in the Axe: Fear the Reaper Saga

By Stacey Rourke

History knows me by many names. Nyx, the Goddess of Night. Lilith, the Lady of Darkness. Selaphiel, the fifth angel of God. But the course of my life has been determined by my greatest mistake. I opened the gate and allowed Lucifer to fall. Booted from Heaven for my sin, I serve my penance as a reaper. By collecting history's most twisted souls, I work to one day earn my ticket home.

Case #664

She took an axe and gave her mother forty whacks, and now... Death is coming for Lizzie Borden. Is she innocent? Guilty? I don't know or care. Reapers have gone missing on their hunt to harvest the soul of the notorious axe murderer and I can't afford to let my guard down. Scythe gripped tight, I'm marching into the past to deliver final judgement to Lizzie's doorstep.

Borden may have a creepy ass rhyme, but I'm an ex-angel with nothing but time. Her father got forty-one whacks, now it's time she learns reaping is the real pain in the axe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anchor Group Publishing
• Release date: Oct 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215924235

Stacey Rourke

RONE Award Winner for Best YA Paranormal Work of 2012 for Embrace, a Gryphon Series Novel Young Adult and Teen Reader voted Author of the Year 2012 Turning Pages Magazine Winner for Best YA book of 2013 & Best Teen Book of 2013  Readers' Favorite Silver Medal Winner for Crane 2015 Stacey Rourke is the author of the award winning YA Gryphon Series, the chillingly suspenseful Legends Saga, the romantic comedy Reel Romance Series, and twisted fairy tale Unfortunate Soul Chronicles. She lives in Michigan with her husband, two beautiful daughters, and two giant dogs. She loves to travel, has an unhealthy shoe addiction, and considers herself blessed to make a career out of talking to the imaginary people that live in her head.  Visit her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/staceyrourkeauthor or on Twitter or instagram @Rourkewrites.

Book preview

Chapter One

A picture containing ax Description automatically generated

My guardian angel told me I needed to take a nap before facing off with an axe murderer. Which is an odd sentence, but a pretty accurate depiction of what happened. Ezekiel, archangel and bartender extraordinaire, tasked me with reaping the soul of the one and only Lizzy Borden. But before doing that, he insisted I get some rest before invoking my powers and hopping into a fresh haunt. I mean, it made sense. If driving under the influence was a bad idea—and it was—going toe-to-toe with a notorious murderess when you hadn’t slept in a few days must be equally as ill-advised.

That was why it was even more of a torturous hell when my restless mind refused to grant me a momentary reprieve. My subconscious took hold, forcing me back into a memory I tried time and again to suppress.

The recollection ... of the worst moment of my long, drawn out existence.

It only lasted a second.

The length of a single mortal heartbeat.

Yet, it changed absolutely everything.

It was proceeded by me disobeying Father. With trembling hands, I unlocked the gate and held it open while Lucifer fell. I watched as he threw his arms out wide and dove into his new life with wild abandon. Despite the tears that welled in my eyes at the mere thought of how much I would miss him, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I played a small part in his joy, and the bliss of that meant the world to me.  

That feeling of pride died away the second I turned around. Father stood a few short feet behind me, his face shattered with disappointment and heartbreak.

Closing the distance between us, I reached for him. Father, I’m so sorry. I—

My claims fell on deaf ears.

Dropping his chin to his chest, he stepped out of reach.

Father? My voice pleaded for understanding I knew I didn’t deserve.

Unwilling to grant me the mercy of His voice, He nodded Ezekiel forward to speak for him.

Selaphiel, the seventh archangel of God, you are hereby banished from Heaven.

Even while I slept, the tears flowed as freely as the day it happened. Please don’t do this. You have my deepest apologies. I’ll get him back. Right now. I’ll go down there and—

Z held up one hand to halt my desperate plea. Lucifer is no longer welcome here. And now, Selaphiel, neither are you. As he spoke, he strode in my direction and pressed me back toward the open gate. Your wings are no longer yours. Your place here has been forfeited. You will not be welcomed back through the gates of heaven until you do what you should have done from the very beginning and earn your place here. The rules of your punishment will be doled out soon enough. In the meantime, he ushered me back until my heels scuffed the edge of the stone threshold just outside the gates, since you wanted to be on Earth amongst the mortals so desperately, I suggest you make the most of it.

Planting a hand on my shoulder, he gave me the shove that would send me tumbling...

spiraling...

free falling into a punishment I could never escape.

Bolting upright, a sheen of sweat clung to my skin. With my chest rising and falling in frantic pants, I reached back and felt for the wings that were brutally ripped away as I fell from the only home I had ever known. Curling my leg under me, I woke my cat, A-hole, who expressed her annoyance by sinking her claws into my knee and biting the shit out of me.

"Ow! It was a nightmare, ya old bitch!"

Not wanting to debate the matter further, she lifted her tail and sauntered from the room.

Pets are awesome, I muttered. Using the heels of my hands, I vigorously rubbed the sleep from my eyes, hoping it would grind out the lingering unpleasantness my brain forced on me. No such luck. With those images flashing behind my eyes, I wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon. Groaning, I reached for the phone on my nightstand to check the time.

Six a.m. I yawned. "I got a whole two hours of sleep. That’s enough to sustain a person without them going completely insane, right?"

To my surprise, the darkness answered with a Shave and a Haircut knock on the door.

Brow furrowed, I checked my watch a second time. Six in the morning, and a knock on the door of an apartment over a functioning bar. That’s never a good omen.  

Shoving back the covers, I kicked my legs over the edge of the mattress. Dressed only in a T-shirt and underwear, I took the necessary precautions before answering it ... meaning I grabbed my hand-held scythe from the back pocket of my jeans heaped on the floor before striding the remaining five paces to the door.

Who is it? I croaked, voice raspy from sleep.

Room service, madame.

Fighting back a grin, I cracked open the door and leaned against its frame with my legs crossed at the ankles. I don’t remember ordering anything.

A silver tray balanced on one hand, Lucifer kept the other behind his back in a formal posture. Of course you did, you just don’t know it. I consider myself an expert on anticipating your needs.

Is that so? As he made a move to saunter past me into the room, I cocked my hip to block his way. And what could I possibly need at this early morning hour?  

Luce bit his lower lip and let his hungry gaze travel the length of me. "That... is a wonderfully loaded question. But in this case,