The Fear the Reaper Saga: Fear the Reaper Saga

By Stacey Rourke

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

Jack the Ripper. Blackbeard the Pirate. Lizzie Borden. Nyx faces off with these vile entities and more in this thrilling four book boxed set. Collection includes:

Reaper vs. Ripper,
Reaping a Pain in the Axe
Reaping Rasputin
The Devil You Reap

Praise for the Fear the Reaper Series:

"Dark, sinful, and truly twisted. Rourke certainly knows how to keep her readers on the edge of their seats!" -New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author L.P. Dover

"Unbelievably original. Badass. Diabolical and yet poignant. All the feels in ways you don't expect." -USA Today Bestselling Author Quinn Loftis

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anchor Group Publishing
• Release date: Jan 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215775721

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

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Book One

Chapter 1

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Blackbeard slammed the rest of his tankard of rum, then fired one shot into the kneecap of his first mate. Blood spurting from his wound, the shrieks of Israel Hands ignited chaos aboard the Queen Anne’s Revenge. Crewmen came running—some to offer aid, others prepared for battle with their weapons drawn. One glance at the scene and each face folded with confusion.

Planting his boot on the edge of the table, Blackbeard shoved his chair back and rose to his feet. He tossed his arms up, letting his voice boom off the creaking sidewalls of the ship. "Why would I inflict such pain on one of my own? Because if I don’t shoot a crewman from time to time, you will forget who I am!"

His men had the audacity to look shocked. Frightened, even. Ironic, considering all those they harmed at their captain’s command.

From the shadows of that grisly scene, I emerged. Hidden beneath the black shroud that embodied the mystique of my kind, I adjusted the grip on my scythe and stepped out into the flickering candlelight. Well, you could try to endear yourself to their hearts by being an outstanding leader. Or, you know, randomly maim some folks. Really, you can go either way with that.

Shocked gasps rose at the sight of me. Some among them crossed themselves in hopes a god they had long since forsaken would protect them. It was good that they were struck with a healthy dose of fear. It would make what came next easier. Planting the staff of my scythe against the weathered floorboards, I leaned against it and let the poison of my presence seep through the cramped quarters.

At the feminine lilt of my voice, Blackbeard’s top lip twitched into a snarl. Well, aren’t you a brazen lass for stowing away on my ship. Do you know what I do to women I find at sea?

I do. With my hood covering my features, I dipped my head in a deep nod. "But it’s so fucking classy, I would love to hear you say it out loud."

Closing in on me with heavy footfalls, Blackbeard brought with him the stench of booze and syphilis. (Yes, it has a smell. No, it’s not pleasant.) I strangle the life out of them, then toss them overboard to spare them from being raped and abused.

Had he been able to see beneath my hood, he would’ve watched me flip sky blue bangs from my eyes and offer him a tight-lipped smile that in no way masked my blatant disdain. "Look at you, the outstanding humanitarian! No wonder your wife fell so in love with you. How proud she must have been to call such a forward-thinking man her husband. That is, right up until the moment when you gave her to your crew. Tell me, Mr. Teach, how many times did she beg for mercy? Did you hear her call out your name? Begging you to save her from the grisly fate to which you fed her?"

"Aboard this vessel, you will call me Captain!" he roared, his face morphing into a mask of hatred.  

But we aren’t really here, are we? My head tilted, daring him to argue with my eternal truth. You died long ago and have been stuck ever since in an endless loop of your own sins. I must say, I’m impressed by how you managed to maintain the stench of vomit and rotting fish in this haunt. Rarely do I visit one that is quite this... visceral.

You’ll wish this wasn’t real when I’m through with you. Rocking back on his heels, the malicious pirate dragged his tongue over yellow teeth. You claim I allowed my own wife to be violated? What makes you think she wasn’t enjoying every minute? That she wasn’t mewing for more at the attentions of all those men? Maybe you need to try it for yourself and see?

Jabbing two fingers in his mouth, he whistled for his crew. The lot of them swarmed like sharks to chummed waters.  

With a sigh, I rolled my shoulders and let my shroud fall in a pool at my feet.

Some gasped.

Others grunted their appreciation.

Yet it was the wisest of them who took one look at my blue hair, dermal piercings, and tattoos and backed up a few paces. For damned souls, they were surprisingly astute.

I’m tired of having to breathe through my mouth on this rancid ship. Let’s get this over with. Turning in a slow circle, I beckoned the crew closer with a curl of one finger. So, who’s going to be the first to step up? I should warn you, this won’t go the way you think it will.

I haven’t seen a woman in three ports! A ruddy-faced scallywag with missing teeth and a scraggly beard shoved his way through the crowd to get to me. I’ll take me chances!

Clapping a hand on my shoulder, he spun me to face him. His tongue slapped hungrily over sun-cracked lips.

Offering him a sad smile, I laid my hand over his.

The air rippled.

Bells clanged.

The others could only look on in horror as his hand crumbled to dust and blew away in the stale breeze that wafted down from the decks above.

Gaping down at the stump of his forearm, a shriek tore from the mate’s lungs.  

Lifting one brow, I leveled the rest of the men with a glare. And that was just his hand. This is an excellent moment to talk about the importance of consent before touching a woman.

With no desire to wait and hear my lecture, they raced topside in a heavy-footed stampede that caused the ship to sway.

Only one remained... the infamous captain himself.  

Alone at last, I purred, twirling my scythe in one direction then the other with a roll of my fingers.  

Dragging a hand over his bushy beard, Edward Teach peered down his nose at me with palpable disgust. So, it’s you then? The harbinger of death come to claim my long dead soul? I must admit, I thought you’d look like less of a harlot.

Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I huffed a humorless laugh. And, you being a pirate, I thought you’d look considerably more like Johnny Depp. It’s a disappointing day all around.

Drawing his pistol once more, Blackbeard pointed the barrel at my head. "I will not be spoken to in such a fashion by a mere woman. Nor will I be judged for my sins by you or anyone. You’re going to remove yourself from the Queen Anne’s Revenge, or I’ll remove you."  

The staff of my scythe heated in my hand, the runes etched onto its blade pulsating with amaranthine energy. But, see, neither of those are an option. Not anymore. You’ve forestalled judgment far too long. It’s time—

Proving there were no gentlemen among pirates, the rude little twat didn’t let me finish my sentence before firing a shot between my eyes. Knocked back a step, I reclaimed my footing in the same instant my damaged tissue repaired itself and spat his bullet out. It fell to the floor with a tink and rolled under a barrel of rum.

Got that out of your system? My eyes flashed with challenge.

Far from it. Tossing his pistol aside, he drew his sword from its sheath and charged. 

I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. I stood stone still and allowed him to bury his sword in my gut and sink it to the hilt. When he was close enough for his hot, rancid breath to assault my cheeks, my hand shot out and seized the front of his coat in a white-knuckled grip. 

Blackbeard turned his blade in one direction then the other. Creases of confusion formed between his brows when I didn’t so much as yelp.

Leaning in, I uttered the explanation in small, slow words so he could understand. You can’t kill death, you dumb fuck.

Get away from me, devil! Planting one hand against my shoulder, Blackbeard shoved himself away from me with all the force he could muster.

As his sword slid from my middle with a sickening slurp, I flipped my scythe in my hand and swung wide. I’ve met the devil. He doesn’t make house calls.

The tip of my hook sank into his collarbone and sliced to the opposite hip. Instead of blood, a brilliant purple light poured out of him. His essence. That was the treasure I came for, which would rid the world of his ghostly presence. Swinging my staff behind my back, I spun into a low strike that knocked his legs out from under him.

Knees slamming down onto the weathered floorboards, Blackbeard raised his hands in hopes of halting my advance. What is it you seek? The truth? Have it, then! She was a woman of station who believed I could be made into a gentleman. And I tried for a time. I truly did. Regrettably, I was unable to resist the alluring call of my one true mistress... the sea.

My shoulders sank at his horrific confession. There was no victory to be found here. No winner in the peddling of blackened souls. You’re referring to your wife? You admit it then?

Yes! Faced with the oppressive weight of being judged for all the wrongs he’d committed, the notorious pirate broke down into gut-wrenching sobs. Torrents of tears and snot streamed down his face and dripped from his beard. Her cries still haunt me! But... I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be. I just couldn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!

For a beat, I paused. My chest rose and fell in fevered pants as I held my scythe in a low grip at my side. "You’re not, but you will be. Karma is real, Edward. In just a moment, I’m going to utter an incantation. Once I do, you will feel every bit of anguish that poor woman did. When the pain ends, you’ll be gone. Any final words before we begin?"

Blackbeard sniffed back his emotion and forced a sardonic smirk. Damnation seize my soul if I give you quarter, or take from any you can.

Tipping my scythe upright, I stamped its staff to the floor once... and again. "Et peccatum tuum sentio fatum tuum accipere!"

Arms thrown out wide, Blackbeard’s muscles locked tight. Foam gathered at the corners of his mouth, his body quaking with vicious spasms.

I took a knee beside him. Not a trace of judgment could be found on my features. There was no smug victory in this raging sea of torment. Do you understand now? I quietly rasped.

The once ruthless rapscallion caught hold of my hand and squeezed it tight. His panicked gaze searched my face for answers I couldn’t give. Will you tell her I’m sorry, please? Make sure that message makes it to her. Wherever she is... she deserves to know.  

Closing my fingers around his, I uttered a promise I knew I couldn’t keep. You have my word, she knows. Let go of the darkness that tethered you here, Captain. Allow your spirit to move on.  

Body falling slack with relief, his fingers slipped from mine. Thank you... for ending my suffering.

Those were the last words he uttered.

All that remained of the dreaded pirate dissolved into tendrils of amethyst energy that crackled around me in a living current before being consumed by my scythe. The spot on the lethal curve where his essence entered was now stamped with a fresh rune. This one, a circle with two wavy lines beneath.  

I doubt you’ll be thanking me when you get where you’re going, I muttered as I inspected the new mark.

Not that it was my job to judge his soul and condemn him; I was merely his mode of transportation. Ushering him into his Great Beyond... whatever it may be.

Stamping my staff to the floorboards of the ghostly ship one final time, I watched as the details of the haunt disintegrated around me. The veil between life and death rose once more, thrusting me back into reality. In this case, to Morehead City, North Carolina, where the wreckage of the Queen Anne’s Revenge had been found.

No other reaper would dare harvest souls touched by darkness as vile as Blackbeard was. That was when I got called in. I was assigned the problem cases because no matter who they were, no matter what atrocities they’d committed, their sins could never measure up to mine.  

Chapter 2

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Death and Taxes followed me everywhere.

That’s not a euphemism.

The bar I called home appeared wherever I needed it after a reaping. With my shroud wrapped tightly around my scythe to keep it hidden from the beer swigging patrons, I laid it on the butcher block bar and gave a quick knock to get Ezekiel’s attention. He glanced up from the glass he was drying, gave me a brief nod, and stowed my weapon away before anyone could question what it was.

The thick tread of my boots scuffed across the white oak floors as I strode straight for the onyx piano in the corner. Without a word, I slid onto the bench beside the pianist and allowed myself a moment to enjoy his masterful rendition of Rhapsody in Blue. Long, slender fingers danced over the keys, coaxing the music into a brilliant crescendo.

Only when he finished did he glance my way. A lock of hair the hue of a freshly minted penny fell across his forehead and tangled with his lashes. Back so soon? You barely had time to get your sea legs.

What can I say? The infamous pirate was all bluster. Scooting forward on the bench, my fingers hovered over the keys. Heart and Soul? I get the easy parts. 

The bow of his lips tugged into a sweet smile. One of these days, my darling Nyx, I’m going to make you learn the other half. Offering no further argument, he bowed his head to play.

Bah.

Bah.

Bah.

Bah-dum-da-dum-dum-bum-bah-bah-bah.

Pecking at the keys with one finger, I glanced his way out of the corner of my eye. There were shadows under his lapis blue eyes, but his golden complexion wasn’t tinged by gray. Not that any of those things put my mind at ease.

How are you feeling? I ventured, fighting to keep my tone cavalier.

His hands hesitated for a beat, but he quickly recovered and reclaimed the tempo. Does it matter? You reaped a soul. I have a job to do. Simple as that.

We have time. If you need to rest, you can allow yourself a recovery period.

This time his hands slammed down on the keys, forcing out a cacophony of ear-piercing notes. You’re going to keep reaping souls, aren’t you? That doesn’t leave me with much of a choice.  

Planting one hand on the bench, I turned the full force of my indignation his way. I bust my ass, reaping as many souls as I can, to try and earn our ticket home. I refuse to apologize for that.

Features softening, he caught one strand of my hair and gave it a gentle tug. I would never ask you to. It’s just... you know how hard the harvests are on me.

My chin fell to my chest, the memory of the last soul transfer playing behind my eyes. I don’t think I could forget the sight of you convulsing if I tried.

Aw, it wasn’t all that bad. Head tilting, he gifted me a devilishly charming grin.

Pressing my cheek to his palm, I filled my lungs with his scent—fragrant magnolias on a hot summer night. In no way am I okay with being the one to bring you such pain.  

He leaned in and dotted a kiss to the top of my head. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make time and again... for you.

His words cut deeper into my heart than Blackbeard’s sword ever could. Sniffing back a wave of emotion, I shoved back from the piano. If you’re sure you’re feeling up to it, let’s get it over with. Being on that pirate ship left me craving top shelf rum. If this goes anything like last time, I’m going to need a full bottle to get me through it.  

Linking his fingers with mine, Lucifer rose to his full height. I’m sure it will be nothing like last time. But you can grab a bottle just the same.  

With a sigh, I let my head fall against his shoulder. Booze and inflicting unimaginable pain onto a former archangel. You really know how to show a girl a good time.

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While Luce headed to his apartment upstairs to prepare for the ritual, I stopped at the bar to grab my scythe and a bottle of liquid courage.  

He’s ready for another round? A slathering of judgement tainted Ezekiel’s tone as he handed over my not-so-cleverly concealed weapon.  

You know how he is when he gets an idea in his head. There’s no talking him out of it. Need I remind you of the shitshow that was his weekend in Gomorrah? Biting the cork out of the bottle of rum, I spit it into Ezekiel’s waiting hand.

Z’s chest swelled with a deep inhale, his jaw tensing with words left unsaid. I know his ways far too well. You sure I can’t get you something stronger? Like a sledgehammer to the temple?

Just line up shots for me when I’m done, and this time don’t make me drink alone. Sliding my scythe over the bar, I kept it low to avoid hitting the crystal chandeliers hung overhead. For a beat, I paused and reconsidered what I just suggested. I mean, I’ll fly solo if I have to, but it does my jaded soul good to know you have a vice or two.

I didn’t wait for him to answer before tipping back the bottle and letting the liquid scorch a burning path down my throat. The march upstairs got longer every time I made it. Down the hall. Up a narrow stairwell. Past the door to my humble little abode. With each step, my stomach churned in anxious knots. Bile blistered the back of my throat. Hand curled around the doorknob to Lucifer’s domain, I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, the motion causing rum to slosh up the sides of the bottle.  

I wanted to run.

To take flight and soar far from there without looking back.  

But that choice had been stolen from me, along with my wings, long ago.

Filling my lungs with a calming breath, I forced open the creaky door.

Lucifer’s apartment was far larger than mine, a consideration I offered him due to the torment I was forced to inflict upon him time and again. The walls were painted matte black, and he’d chosen furniture in cozy shades of cream and gray. To spare his furniture the onslaught to come, he set up a camping cot in the center of the living room. Ankle and wrist shackles were mounted to the legs for precautionary measures that we found out the hard way were necessary.

Luce stood shirtless in the center of the room, looking more divine perfection than passable mortal. Chest rising and falling in anxious heaves, I couldn’t help but notice his body had already begun to tremble. Somehow that made what I had to do far worse.

Out of respect for the misery I brought to his door, I tiptoed inside on whispered steps. Not that it made an ounce of sense for me to be worried about disturbing him. That held about as much logic as fearing I was stepping on his toes as I lit him on fire.

At the sound of the lock clicking behind me, Luce barely glanced up before launching into how he wanted this to go. Just get right to it. Don’t dawdle like last time. I think that made it worse. Hence the frothing at the mouth.

He frequently tried to adjust the recipe in hopes of finding a special blend that would lessen his torment. As of yet, no such luck.

Mouth falling open with a million unspoken sentiments, Luce silenced himself by sliding a bite guard between his teeth and rolling onto the cot.

Shuffling forward, I unwrapped the shroud tangled around my scythe and let the fabric tumble into a heap on the floor. Whatever you say, boss.

The runes etched into the curved blade of my sickle strobed with lavender energy in anticipation of what was to come. Leaning it against the wall, I twisted my hair into a knot on top of my head and secured it in place with a chopstick I snagged from a peddler in Bangkok. It was quite lovely, really. A dragon had been carved into the side in elaborate detail.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I bowed my head to the task of securing Lucifer’s restraints. I pulled the leather straps until he winced, then locked the silver buckles into place. You ready? I rasped, my voice gruff with emotion.

Blinking