Reaper (15 page)

“Why should you be used to it?”

I faced Ethan and raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like my parents were ever overly involved with Harry or me. They are more concerned with their careers than with their children. I guess I shouldn’t complain; it helped me get away with killing the demons last fall.”

“I did notice that,” Ethan agreed. “They seem like they turn a blind eye. I’m honestly surprised your brother gets away with what he does.”

I laughed. “You’re telling me.” I flipped my toast once more. “Sometimes I got the feeling Harry acted out on purpose, like he was trying to get their attention.”

“It would make sense,” Ethan agreed. He shook his head and smiled. “My dad would have ripped me a new one if he knew I smoked like your brother. I came home from a party drunk once when I was a senior in high school. My dad screamed at me; not because I was drinking underage but because I wasn’t able to defend myself. I never got drunk again.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “What if I had to defend myself—or someone else—and failed because I was too intoxicated to put up a fight. I still drink; I just know when to cut myself off.”

I turned the burner off and put my breakfast on a plate. “That’s actually really smart.”

“There seems to be a correlation with being a hunter and being an alcoholic. My grandpa drinks like a fish; I think that is part of the reason my dad was so hard on me about it.”

“The grandpa you’re named after?” I asked and sat down next to Ethan. He nodded and bit into his food. I had taken a bite as well when I remembered I had left my glass of milk next to the stove. I got up to get it, the stool scrapping on the tile floor as I moved. I had just extended my hand when I felt it; the cold, damp finger that slid across my face.

Hunter shot up and raced over to me. His alarm caused Ethan to jump up and he got there just in time for me to stumble into his arms. The cold finger turned into a hand that grabbed at my spine, pulling me backward into a harrowing, dark place.

“Annie?” Ethan asked. Hunter whined and pressed his nose into my palm. His mind connected with mine and he pulled me back into the here and now. I could feel the hard tile under my feet, Ethan’s arms around me, and Hunter’s warm breath on my skin.

“I’m ok,” I mumbled and straightened up against. He kept a tight grip on my hand as if he was afraid I might pass out. I took a deep breath and pulled my hand out of his, not wanting to feel coddled.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice uneven.

“I don’t know. I-I think something touched me. And then my brain went into this…this place.” I didn’t think I would be able to describe it to Ethan; I knew how crazy it sounded. “It was like someone teleported me into a black hole.”

“The spirit world,” he speculated.

I pressed my lips together and shook my head, my dark brown hair falling into my eyes. I didn’t realize that I was shaking until I reached up to push my bangs behind my ear. I took another breath and opened up the cabinet that housed my herbs. I quickly rooted around for a glass jar of vervain.
 
My fingers trembled from something other than fear. Not giving myself the chance to diagnose the source of my weakness, I unscrewed the lid and dumped a few chunks of the herb onto the counter.

“Get the mortar and pestle?” I asked Ethan. I heard him open the cabinet behind me as I reached up to get another jar. I extracted a pinch of basil and put it in the mortar as soon as Ethan set it down.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Uh, matches. And a cauldron.”

“Will this work?” He held up a pot.

“Yeah, perfect.” I added a few small vervain pieces to the mortar and started grinding. Once the dried plants were a powder consistency, I dumped them into the pot. I rushed back to the cabinet to add mugwort and rosemary. In my haste, I knocked a jar of sandalwood from the shelf. I flicked my eyes to it as it sailed to the floor and mentally stopped it an inch before it hit the tile. I mentally set it down gently; the jar rolled and stopped at Ethan’s feet.

“Nice catch,” he complimented and picked up the jar.

“Thanks,” I said and whirled around to add more herbs. I took the matches from Ethan, lit one and dropped it into the pot. Normally, the flame would have sizzled out, but this was no ordinary pot full of ordinary herbs. I held my hands over it, filling the small space with magical energy. The fire sparked and ignited; within seconds the herbs were burning.

“That’s better,” I sighed when the smoke wafted in my face.

Ethan smiled and nodded as if that made him relax, but his rigid stance told me otherwise. “Where did you learn that combination?” he asked, looking at the smoldering pot.

“I just made it up,” I confessed. “All those herbs have magical properties that I pulled on. Maybe I should write it down,” I said with a smile. My heart stopped racing and I was suddenly aware of how hungry I was. I picked up my milk and sat back down. I noticed Ethan and Hunter exchanging worried glances out of the corner of my eye. After a second’s hesitation, Ethan rejoined me.

“I think I’ll work out at home today,” he said and picked up his half eaten piece of toast. “I got all that equipment and never use it.”

“I use it,” I added, knowing that his only reason for not going to the gym was because he didn’t want to leave me home alone.

“Not very often,” he teased. “You should work out with me. We’ve been slacking on your self-defense lessons,” he reminded me.

I wrinkled my nose at the thought of working out but agreed. “I suppose we should keep up with that, considering…”

“You can’t punch a ghost, Annie.”

“What if this isn’t a ghost?”

“Maybe it’s not,” he said with his mouth full. “It’s you.”

“Right. Maybe you should punch me then.”

“It’s not funny,” he nearly scolded. “You could get hurt.”

“By my own thoughts,” I sighed and shook my head. I finished my breakfast in silence, cooked an egg for Hunter, and helped Ethan unload the dishwasher. We spent the next hour cleaning the house and then retreated to the basement to work out.

After an hour of self defense practice, my muscles were sore and tired. Ethan wanted to run a few miles on the treadmill before ending his work out. Hunter and I went outside and into the barn; I wanted to clean stalls before I took a shower.

One of my favorite things about the barn that I used to board my horses at was the company. Though it was nice to peacefully brush my horses in the quiet of my own barn, I missed having riding buddies. I missed Laney’s horse, Abra, almost as much as I missed her, and I missed my riding instructor, Leslie. I missed the three of us going trail riding together, goofing around, and just having fun.

The sound of feet rustling through the overgrown, brown pasture grass snapped me out of my horse reverie. I looked out the Dutch doors just in time to see a child stumbling past the horses through the weeds. I rushed to the end of the barn wondering where the heck he came from. I slowly made my way over matted down grass.

“Hello?” I cautiously called. Startled by my voice, the boy fell. I quickened my pace when I heard soft sobs coming from him. “Are you alright?” I asked. The boy’s shoulders shook. Wearing faded jeans and a green and yellow striped shirt, the boy looked completely normal. Still, I was afraid that when he faced me, demonic red eyes would beat into my soul.

With more hesitance than I wanted, I tapped the boy on the shoulder. He whipped around.
Thank God
, I thought when his face was completely normal. Tears streaked down his cheeks. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” the boy whispered feebly.

“Oh.” I crouched down. “Well, want to come inside and call your mom?” He nodded and took my extended hand.
He must live around here
, I thought. “What’s your name?” I asked gently.

“Thomas,” he said with a sniffle.

“Well, Thomas,” I started. “Can you tell me how you got here?”

“I’m lost,” he whimpered.

“Lost?” I echoed. I was sure it was possible…but unlikely. Something wasn’t right. I shook my head and tired to figure it out. Thomas’s gait slowed when we neared the fence. I turned to look at him, expecting to see more tears. And then I noticed he wasn’t casting a shadow.

I yanked my hand from his and spun to face him, pulse quickening by the second. “Who are you?” My voice came out too shrill and scared for my liking.

Seeing that I had figured out he wasn’t real, Thomas lunged for me, sinking his teeth into my arm. I screamed in shock and stumbled back, pushing him off. His teeth clamped down and tore off a hunk of my skin. I shoved him hard, knocking him off balance. I squeezed a hand over my gushing wound. Thomas jumped for me again. I moved out of the way just in time, and Thomas sailed through the air. Right as he would have hit the ground, he disappeared. I gasped, and looked at my arm; it was fine. I whirled around three times, looking everywhere for the crazed boy.

Hunter, who had been having fun looking for mice in the hay barn, loped over, sensing my fear. I sank down on my knees and hugged him. The boy wasn’t real. He had never been there. If I would have used what little sense I have in my head, I would have realized that the horses didn’t notice him, and most of all, Hunter didn’t sense him. I had imagined the whole thing. I rocked back onto my butt. I ran a trembling hand through my hair.

“What is happening?” I asked Hunter, who responded by licking my neck. I cupped my face in my hands, breathing heavily. “He was real. I mean,
not
real, but
real.
I saw him and heard his voice. I even felt his skin when he held me hand!” I shook my head and looked up at Hunter with wide eyes. “Why would I make this up? What corner of my imagination is a zombie child in? If I was scared of anyone running through the pasture, it would be some big man that could throw me around,” I rambled. I raked my hands through my hair again, pulling on the ends. “None of it is real,” I stuttered. “But it is, it is real,” I breathed.
 
“I-I don’t know.”

I wasn’t sure how much time passed. I stared at the brown grass until my vision went blurry. Hunter leaned against me, reassuring me that he was real. I looked over the pasture long enough to convince myself that the horses would be alright, stood up on weak legs and went back into the barn to finish cleaning stalls.

I was still on edge when I retreated to the house. I walked past Ethan, he was lying in bed watching TV, without speaking. I was afraid if I opened my mouth my voice would come out shaky. I turned on the shower and closed the bathroom door. Suddenly, I didn’t want to take my clothes off. I could feel eyes on me; I knew I was being watched.

“No,” I told my reflection. Not wanting to be alone, I called Hunter in. I showered with impressive speed. Right as I turned the water off, I heard the door open and slam shut. Looking into Hunter’s mind, I knew the door never opened. I stuck my hand out of the shower to reach for my towel. Someone grabbed my wrist; their fingernails bit into my skin.

I jumped back and slipped. Ungracefully, I caught myself, knocking bottles of shampoo to the ground.
It’s here,
I thought to Hunter. He stood and looked around, trying to see what I was feeling. With a shaky breath, I tore back the curtain. Of course, there was no one there. I wrapped the towel around myself and stepped out.

I hadn’t turned the fan on; misty steam swirled around the bathroom. I was hit with a wave of dizziness; I leaned on the sink to keep from losing my balance.

Anora!

I quickly looked up and saw a black mass behind me.

“No,” I said aloud, looking at the shadow. Hunter was in here with me, and he wasn’t seeing what I was. “You’re not real.” I took a deep breath. “And I’m not scared of you.” With one hand holding my towel up, I turned around.

Anora!
the darkness spoke again.
 
Steam started to swirl. Hunter pressed his nose into my hand, able to sense my growing apprehension. “You’re not real,” I spoke through clenched teeth.
 
Distant, echoing laughter seeped from the mist. The light bulb above me suddenly exploded, sending shards of glass down on us. I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Go away!” I shouted. I could feel heat on my skin. I knew if I opened my eyes I would see the Burning Man. I squeezed my eyes shut so hard tears began to form.

The door opened.

“Annie?” Ethan asked.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. He rushed over and put his hands on my shoulders. Hunter leaned against me and I realized just how tense I had been. Little half moon indentations decorated my palms and I had been holding my breath.

Panting, I shook my head. “I’m ok,” I said before Ethan had the chance to ask me what was going on. “I was making myself see things again. That sounds weird to say out loud.”

“What happened?”

“Voices, shadows, feelings, the light bulb exploding…nothing too spectacular. You know, for as vivid as my imagination is, I’m kinda disappointed in the predictability of my hallucinations.”

He laughed and dropped his hands. “What was the combination of herbs you burned? I’ll mix some up and see if it helps again.”

“Uh,” I thought. “Vervain, mugwort, basil, and rosemary.”

“Ok, I’ll be right back.” He smiled weakly and rushed out of the room. I got dressed and sat on the floor in the middle of the sitting area of my room. Needing to do something, I started to rake my fingers through my wet, messy hair. “This doesn’t make sense,” I told Hunter. I could feel that he agreed with me, and he thought that if I was actually
creating
something, he’d be able to see it in my mind before it happened.