Rebel Reaper, Gatekeeper Book Two
Back when my life was simpler, I thought all I had to do was hold gateways for the dead to pass through. Silly me, I actually enjoyed Reaping. Almost like a drug or fine old whiskey, it made me high, filled me with delight, and left me glowing with the rightness of providing a last bit of compassion.
Good little Reaper that I am, I never examined any of it too deeply, just crafted portals, exactly as Death trained me. Ha! She neglected to mention I command way more magic than she’d let on in Reaper school.
Death smiled pretty to my face, and then lied to me. Used me.
Me and all the other Reapers.
I can’t not Reap. It’s hardwired into me. But I can tell Death I quit.
Big words. I have no idea if I’ve got the guts to follow through, or what Death would do about open insubordination.
I’ve always liked to live on the wild side, though, so I guess I’m about to find out.
More in the Gatekeeper Series
About Ann
I'm basically a mountaineer at heart. I remember many hours at my desk where my body may have been stuck inside four walls, but my soul was planning yet one more trip to the backcountry. There's a timeless element to the mountains. They feel like old friends as I visit them, and visit them again. There's nothing like standing on a remote pass where I've been before and seeing that the vista is unchanged. Or on an equally remote peak. Mountains are the bones of the world. They'll prevail long after all of us are dust. It feels honest and humbling to share space with them. I hope I'm blessed with many more years to wander the local landscape. The memories are incomparable. They warm me and help me believe there will be something left for our children and their children after them.