But anxiety and shame had kept her away. What if he hated her for all of those years as her servant? What if he hated her for passing his slave bond to someone else? Although she couldn’t imagine that he’d hate belonging to Jillian. The human, immortal thanks to her bond with Reseph, was a gentle soul with a streak of kindness inside her a mile long.
Taking a deep, bracing breath, Harvester walked toward the barn, the cool, fresh Colorado mountain breeze bringing with it the sweet scent of wildflowers and the tang of coming rain. As she approached, the snort of a horse and the bleats of goats joined the sound of hay being moved around with a pitchfork. Did Tracker like his job?
No matter what, it had to be better than spending all his time in her old residence, where he’d cooked, cleaned, and tended to her needs… all of them.
Her stomach rolled, and she halted at the edge of the gravel drive that connected the barn to the main house. This was a bad idea. She shouldn’t be here. She had other things to do, like wash her hair. And the Grim Reaper himself, Azagoth, had, just days ago, called in a debt she owed him, which meant she had an angel to hunt down. Stamtiel was also on Heaven’s most-wanted list, so nailing him to the wall, literally, took priority over having a chat with her former slave.
Having talked herself into a new course of action, she ignited the spark of power she needed to flash out of there, and… let it snuff out.
Seeing Tracker again wasn’t for her benefit. It was for his. No doubt he had plenty to say to her, and he deserved a chance to say it. Besides, as Jillian’s mate’s Watcher, Harvester was bound to run into him sooner or later. Might as well get it over with.
Then there was the fact that she seemed to be weakening as Gethel’s pregnancy progressed, and she might not have many opportunities to see Tracker again. She could feel Lucifer growing stronger, and with every passing day, Harvester grew more tired and her powers were more difficult to summon. Only when she was in Heaven did she feel whole. How long would it be before she was forced to reside there permanently? She’d lose her job as Watcher, and she’d never again attend family functions with Reaver, which had, surprisingly, become one of her favorite things to do. The Horsemen and their mates had finally accepted her as part of the family, and she couldn’t give that up.
But would she have to if Lucifer kept sucking her energy like a dire leech?
Was it possible that she could even die?
She hadn’t told Reaver any of her fears, hadn’t told him the extent of the growing weakness, but he knew something was up. She could see it in his eyes, could feel it in the way he touched her as if she were made of crystal.
She hated being treated like an invalid.
Decision made, she rounded the corner to the front of the barn and stepped through the open door.
Instantly, Tracker wheeled around, pitchfork poised to attack. When he saw her, he froze solid, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Hello, Tracker,” she said softly.
The pitchfork began to tremble, and Harvester’s heart, still hardened by thousands of years of scar tissue, managed to crack wide open.
“You don’t have to say anything.” She took a step closer. He didn’t move, but his grip on the farm tool became white-knuckled. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“You… you’re an angel now.” His deep, smoky voice gave her a sense of comfort; he’d been the one constant in her life for decades.
“Who’d have thought, huh?” Certainly not her.
“Are you going to take me back?”
She couldn’t tell if his question was hopeful… or fearful. “Why? Do you want me to?”
Very slowly, the pitchfork lowered, and so did his head, until he was looking at his boots, his sandy hair concealing his expression. “No,” he whispered. “I like it here.”
Relief sang through her. “Good. I wanted that for you.”
His head came up, and the skepticism in his gaze pierced her right through the heart. “You wanted me to be happy?”
Oh, damn, this had been a mistake. He must have been so miserable with her, even though she’d tried to treat him well. As well as she could without drawing suspicions, anyway. Being nice to him would have set off alarm bells for anyone who witnessed it. She had been in hell as a spy for Heaven, and there was no way she could expose herself, not even by being nice to a slave.
“I know you don’t believe me, but yes, I wanted that for you.”
He looked down at his feet again. “Thank you for rescuing me from my former master. And thank you for giving me to Jillian.” He shuddered. “But you should go now.”
That was the first time Harvester had ever heard him be assertive, even if it was only tentative.