Reaping Rasputin: 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 #665

Grigoire Rasputin stood accused of attempting to seize control of the Russian empire by seducing its tsarina. He was poisoned, stabbed, shot, and drowned. For the conniving schemer, that was just the beginning. A darkness snaked into the alleged holy man's soul, weaving his destiny with mine.

Rasputin brought death to the Romanov's door. Now I'm heading back to even the score. Lies and secrets await in the frigid St. Petersburg snow. Yet it's the truth lurking there that will shatter my world in one savage blow.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anchor Group Publishing
• Release date: Oct 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215204405

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

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I rounded the side of the Suds Your Duds laundry mat at a full sprint and immediately pulled up short. Tilting my head in one direction, then the other, I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. When I tell the story of chasing down the chick who had the balls to break into my apartment, it’s going to have a far more climatic conclusion than this. I’ll say there was an epic chase. I tackled you to the ground. Punches were thrown. Spittle flew. Not... I waved one hand at the scene unfolding before me, "whatever the hell this is."

The woman in the black hoodie banged the staff of my scythe—which she stole—against the cracked concrete, a frustrated growl escaping her. It won’t work! Why won’t it work?  

Did you try turning it off and back on again? Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I folded my arms across my chest.

"I need it to work!" she screamed, throwing my treasured weapon at my feet. It slammed against the ground with a loud clang, the hook of the blade bouncing off the steel toe of my boot. Abaddon is coming! He made me his Marquis of Hell, the trusted Keeper of the grimoire. Once he has gathered his army of seventy-two dark souls, the uprising will begin! I thought I had time to figure out my escape, but the runes carved into the cover of the book are illuminating at an alarming rate! Once they have all been activated, it will be my responsibility to break the seal and read the inscription. Whatever hell will be unleashed when that happens, I want to be far removed from it.

Holding up both hands, I attempted to halt her ramble. You just threw out a lot of words that made absolutely no sense.

Pausing her rant, she blinked in my direction. Book and responsibility?

No, the... My shoulders sagged as her insult sank in. You know, you’re awfully snarky for someone who was just shaking a divine weapon to get it to work.

Closing the space between us, the thief’s nostrils flared. You’re right. I should have explained this in the simplest terms possible. Thankfully, that is an error I can easily correct. Abaddon brings cruel death without mercy to any who do not further his twisted cause. Those unfortunate enough to have actual worth to him are left with a sadistic choice: offer him their soul or die. There is no other choice. That is why I tracked you down and stole your scythe. There is a storm of darkness coming, and I want my soul back and to be good and dead before that day comes.

You want to die? Maintaining eye contact, I dipped down to retrieve my scythe. The second my hand closed around its staff, it warmed to my touch, luring me toward a soul to be reaped. You know I’m a reaper, right? You probably should have led with that.

I didn’t know if you’d help me. She shrugged, causing a lock of chestnut-colored hair to fall forward and tangle in her lashes.

Planting the staff of my scythe against the ground, I adjusted my grip as the runes etched in it gleamed to life. Since the moment you broke into my apartment, pounded my skull into the floor, and stole from me, I have wanted nothing more than to see you dead. The fact that you’re on board with that is an added bonus.

The chipper little thief’s eyes twinkled with delight. You mean, you’ll help me?  

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I chose my words carefully. This Abaddon... he purposely latches on to dark souls? An entity like that might be exactly the kind of being to have sank his claws into Lucifer.

Wetting her lips, she gave me a solemn nod.  I was not a good person. If he wanted me, he was looking for truly malevolent beings.  

If that was true, he might have paid particular interest to a certain ex-angel who harvested a plethora of nasty souls. In that case, it would be my pleasure to help you die.

Tears welling behind her eyes, the little criminal fought to keep her emotions in check. You have no idea how much I appreciate that. It almost makes me feel bad about boot-stomping your ribs on my way out of your apartment.

My nose crinkled. Wait... you boot-stomped me?

Catching my free hand, she cradled it in both of hers. Whatever happens, whatever is to come, I will fight by your side until the bitter end.

I really think we need to discuss the boot-stomp.

She had clearly decided not to hear me. I’ve walked this earth far too long with a noose hanging over my head. With your pledge to help me regain my soul and move on, I vow myself into your service. I will do as you bid until I am finally able to meet that sweet oblivion.

"You’re bordering on making this weird. You want death and I want Abaddon, both of which require us to