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Unchosen
by Michele Vail
THE REAPER DIARIES BOOK TWO
I thought the worst of my reaper training was behind me… turns out I was wrong. Dead wrong.
Molly Bartolucci has done a lot of growing up but after being accused of using illegal magic at her school for necromancers, reaper-in-training Molly is treading lightly. As the destined leader of Anubis’s Chosen, she needs to study hard, train harder, and stay out of trouble.
Uh, right.
It doesn’t help that she’s feeling more than academic about her melt-your-bones hot reaping instructor, Rath. And if her relationship drama isn’t enough to drive her over the edge, she has to deal with mother issues, nosy little sisters, suspicious friends, and an unnamed force stalking her at school.
Then her family is attacked, and her bio-dad ends up comatose in the hospital. Now, Molly has to uncover who’s trying to hurt her loved ones—and all without the help of Anubis.
* * *
Age Group/Genre: Young Adult, Paranormal
Add the book(s) on Goodreads here!
Purchase Undeadly (#1): Amazon • B&N • IndieBound
Purchase Unchosen (#2): Amazon • B&N • IndieBound
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Purchase Undeadly (#1): Amazon • B&N • IndieBound
Purchase Unchosen (#2): Amazon • B&N • IndieBound
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I
was pressed against a rock wall, my fingers digging into the craggy surface. My
heart pounded in rhythm to the frenetic drumbeats echoing in the cave. Ahead,
an odd purplish light flickered, throwing shadows onto the rock walls. The air
stank of incense and sulfur, accompanied by a dank, otherworldly stench that
clogged my throat and settled into my stomach like spoiled food.
“You ready, brown eyes?”
I looked to my left. Rath stood shoulder to shoulder with me. His face was streaked with dirt and blood, his shirt torn. He was sweaty, too, and breathing hard.
“You’re hurt,” I said.
“Not my blood, Mol. Yours. You already forget kicking the asses of those guards?”
“What?”
His eyebrows dipped and he frowned. “You okay? Did you hit your head or something? I thought you just skinned your knees.”
I looked down. The jeans I wore were bloody and filthy, and had huge holes in the knees. “Holy crap.”
“Maybe you should stay here,” said Rath.
“No way,” I said, partly because I always wanted to do the opposite of what Rath told me, and partly because I somehow knew that I needed to face what stood in that flickering light, responding with unearthly screeches to the wild drumbeats.
“All right,” said Rath. “Suck it up, princess, and let’s go.”
I opened my mouth to tell him to shut up, but he covered my lips with his and gave me a deep, heartfelt kiss. He pulled away, winked at me, then grabbed my hand, and we crept forward. My lips tingled, and my heart now thudded with the thrill of that unexpected kiss. I felt secure, confident, especially with the firm grip of Rath’s hand around mine.
We ran.
The scene that greeted us was surreal—and awful.
The screeching of the animal in the cage sawed its way through the primal drumming. Dark figures surrounding the cage ... humans or demons or reapers ... I didn't know. They all wore black cowls, and they all lifted their arms up in a rhythmic way that matched the boom, boom, boom of the ancient music. I'd never thought about evil as a taste, but here, in this place, I could feel the ache of it in my throat, feel the acidic drizzle of hate dripping into my stomach. For a moment, I couldn't bring myself to look at the cage, or the creature within. Not just a creature, but my Great Uncle. For a moment, I lost my ability to breathe, and I stalled our progress. My feet felt glued to the floor. Rath stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. "Don't lose courage, Molly. C'mon."
I wasn't losing courage. (I didn’t have any to begin with, I was sorry to say.) I was gaining fear, and fast. I let Rath pull me along, but I didn't want to go. I didn't want to see anymore. "It's him," said Rath. "He projects fear. It's how Set controls you, controls everyone."
"It's not affecting you," I said.
"Yeah. It is." Rath gripped my hand tighter. "I only feel brave because you're here with me."
"You mean, because I'm the daughter of a god, and that gives you security?"
"No, Molly. Because you're you. You don't give up. Especially when it comes to the people you love. That's where my faith lies. With you."
It wasn't the right time for an "aw" moment, but I hoped that if we survived this, I would have plenty of "aw" moments with Rath. We didn't really have anyone left except each other. Okay, that wasn’t exactly fair, I know. Still, it felt that way. Loss was a burden almost too heavy to bear. I’d had enough of it, enough of it all. I wanted it to end. And the only way to do that, the only way to protect those who were left, was to make sure Set never, ever got out. I sucked in a deep breath, filled my lungs with the fetid air of this poisonous place, and let Rath lead me closer to the cage that imprisoned Set.
The cage was its own atrocity. Made of bones—bones of the old gods, just like The Secret History of Reapers had described. They looked like dinosaur bones, large and pitted, smudged with dark red goop. I shuddered. I didn’t even want to think about what that stuff was. Blech! The cage didn't really have a door--at least not one that I could see. Of course, why would something meant to be an eternal prison have a door?
The creature inside the cage screamed again. It was a terrible sound, one of longing and rage, and it zapped me right down to my soul. Fear was lightning in my heart, ice in my blood. But I had Rath and his faith, and I had no choice. Kebechet. Right. I wished the word, the idea of it, gave me more comfort, but all I really felt was utterly afraid. Rath pulled us behind a large outcropping of black, jagged rocks.
The drumbeats and the sounds of chanting rose up, blending with the yells of Set. Set was terror personified. In Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, he looked less scary. With the head of an anteater, the horns of giraffe, and the body of a mutant dog, he was snarling and snapping and squealing. He was dressed in ragged, singed clothing. He was huge ... the biggest, most awful monster I'd ever seen. This wasn't a late-night horror show, though, this was real. If Set got to the earthly plane in that form—no one would survive. The whole world would be destroyed.
"Look," said Rath. He pointed to a box that sat in front of the cage. The obsidian box was as big as a coffee table, and the marble sides gleamed in the dancing shadows of the fires rimming Set’s cage.
"Well, that’s not good," I said. I couldn't begin to calculate how many souls would fit into that container. Thousands. Maybe millions. Surely, Set's followers hadn't been able to fill that thing. It wouldn't be possible. Would it? I went completely still and cold. "How did they get souls for it?" I asked.
Rath glanced at me.
We heard creaking and cracking, and Set’s mournful cries turned to triumphant sounds.
The cage exploded.
“You ready, brown eyes?”
I looked to my left. Rath stood shoulder to shoulder with me. His face was streaked with dirt and blood, his shirt torn. He was sweaty, too, and breathing hard.
“You’re hurt,” I said.
“Not my blood, Mol. Yours. You already forget kicking the asses of those guards?”
“What?”
His eyebrows dipped and he frowned. “You okay? Did you hit your head or something? I thought you just skinned your knees.”
I looked down. The jeans I wore were bloody and filthy, and had huge holes in the knees. “Holy crap.”
“Maybe you should stay here,” said Rath.
“No way,” I said, partly because I always wanted to do the opposite of what Rath told me, and partly because I somehow knew that I needed to face what stood in that flickering light, responding with unearthly screeches to the wild drumbeats.
“All right,” said Rath. “Suck it up, princess, and let’s go.”
I opened my mouth to tell him to shut up, but he covered my lips with his and gave me a deep, heartfelt kiss. He pulled away, winked at me, then grabbed my hand, and we crept forward. My lips tingled, and my heart now thudded with the thrill of that unexpected kiss. I felt secure, confident, especially with the firm grip of Rath’s hand around mine.
We ran.
The scene that greeted us was surreal—and awful.
The screeching of the animal in the cage sawed its way through the primal drumming. Dark figures surrounding the cage ... humans or demons or reapers ... I didn't know. They all wore black cowls, and they all lifted their arms up in a rhythmic way that matched the boom, boom, boom of the ancient music. I'd never thought about evil as a taste, but here, in this place, I could feel the ache of it in my throat, feel the acidic drizzle of hate dripping into my stomach. For a moment, I couldn't bring myself to look at the cage, or the creature within. Not just a creature, but my Great Uncle. For a moment, I lost my ability to breathe, and I stalled our progress. My feet felt glued to the floor. Rath stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. "Don't lose courage, Molly. C'mon."
I wasn't losing courage. (I didn’t have any to begin with, I was sorry to say.) I was gaining fear, and fast. I let Rath pull me along, but I didn't want to go. I didn't want to see anymore. "It's him," said Rath. "He projects fear. It's how Set controls you, controls everyone."
"It's not affecting you," I said.
"Yeah. It is." Rath gripped my hand tighter. "I only feel brave because you're here with me."
"You mean, because I'm the daughter of a god, and that gives you security?"
"No, Molly. Because you're you. You don't give up. Especially when it comes to the people you love. That's where my faith lies. With you."
It wasn't the right time for an "aw" moment, but I hoped that if we survived this, I would have plenty of "aw" moments with Rath. We didn't really have anyone left except each other. Okay, that wasn’t exactly fair, I know. Still, it felt that way. Loss was a burden almost too heavy to bear. I’d had enough of it, enough of it all. I wanted it to end. And the only way to do that, the only way to protect those who were left, was to make sure Set never, ever got out. I sucked in a deep breath, filled my lungs with the fetid air of this poisonous place, and let Rath lead me closer to the cage that imprisoned Set.
The cage was its own atrocity. Made of bones—bones of the old gods, just like The Secret History of Reapers had described. They looked like dinosaur bones, large and pitted, smudged with dark red goop. I shuddered. I didn’t even want to think about what that stuff was. Blech! The cage didn't really have a door--at least not one that I could see. Of course, why would something meant to be an eternal prison have a door?
The creature inside the cage screamed again. It was a terrible sound, one of longing and rage, and it zapped me right down to my soul. Fear was lightning in my heart, ice in my blood. But I had Rath and his faith, and I had no choice. Kebechet. Right. I wished the word, the idea of it, gave me more comfort, but all I really felt was utterly afraid. Rath pulled us behind a large outcropping of black, jagged rocks.
The drumbeats and the sounds of chanting rose up, blending with the yells of Set. Set was terror personified. In Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, he looked less scary. With the head of an anteater, the horns of giraffe, and the body of a mutant dog, he was snarling and snapping and squealing. He was dressed in ragged, singed clothing. He was huge ... the biggest, most awful monster I'd ever seen. This wasn't a late-night horror show, though, this was real. If Set got to the earthly plane in that form—no one would survive. The whole world would be destroyed.
"Look," said Rath. He pointed to a box that sat in front of the cage. The obsidian box was as big as a coffee table, and the marble sides gleamed in the dancing shadows of the fires rimming Set’s cage.
"Well, that’s not good," I said. I couldn't begin to calculate how many souls would fit into that container. Thousands. Maybe millions. Surely, Set's followers hadn't been able to fill that thing. It wouldn't be possible. Would it? I went completely still and cold. "How did they get souls for it?" I asked.
Rath glanced at me.
We heard creaking and cracking, and Set’s mournful cries turned to triumphant sounds.
The cage exploded.
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Michele Vail is the author of The Reaper Diaries, a young adult paranormal series set in the modern world with a zombie twist. The stories center on 16-year-old Molly Bartolucci, a reaper-in-training who's learning to deal with love, destiny, and death.
Michele Vail is the pen name of national bestselling paranormal romance author Michele Bardsley (who also writes thriller mysteries under Michele Freeman). The Reaper Diaries consist of three books: Undeadly, Unchosen, and Unbroken.
You can find Michele Vail here:
Website • Twitter • Goodreads
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