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Authors: Emily Goodwin

Reaper (16 page)

BOOK: Reaper
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I stood. “You’re right,” I told him. “It’s not me, I know it’s not.” I strode over to my bookshelf and carefully lifted the heavy BOS. I sat back down and flipped through the pages, looking for any sort of clue.

“Do your thing,” Ethan said when he came into the room. He set a pot full of the herbs and a match book on the bed. I nodded, held my hands over the pot and invoked the magical properties I wanted.

“Better,” I said when the smoke billowed up in front of me. “Ethan,” I started. “I don’t think this is me accidentally summoning something. Hunter brought up a good point a minute ago. If I was subconsciously coming up with this, he would probably know. Ya know, since he sees into my head and all.”

“That makes sense, in an incredibly crazy way,” he agreed. “It has to be a spirit of some kind then.” When I didn’t agree, he asked, “You don’t think so?”

“No. I’ve had spirits bugging me my whole life. This isn’t remotely ghost-like. When I was outside, I thought I saw a little boy. He even told me his name was Thomas. It has to be a demon.”

Ethan raised his eyebrows and sighed. “I guess. I can’t think of a demon that can do this though. You just said that Hunter can’t even see what you do.”

I bit my lip, feeling a flame of panic flicker to life in my heart. “Then what is it? Am I going crazy?”

“No,” Ethan assured me right away. “It’s
something
. And whatever it is, we will figure it out. I promise, Anora.”

“I know,” I agreed. “We will.”

~*~

 
I woke with a start at three-thirty AM. Drenched in a cold sweat, I shook the black shadowy holds of the nightmare away.
He’s not real
, I said sternly to myself. Seeing Thomas kill my family was only a dream. Unable to fall back asleep for fear of slipping into another blood covered nightmare, I sat up and ran my hands through my hair. I wished Thomas
was
a ghost. I could help him get over his unfinished business and we could be done with this crap…if that was what he wanted.

Maybe, I thought, the ghosts of children don’t play by the rules. “That’s it!” I whispered out loud. It had to be it. When I went to the astral plane last year, Hunter wasn’t there. I couldn’t see him anymore. Maybe Thomas was really a spirit and he was showing me bits of the spirit world.

Silently, I got out of bed, grabbed laptop and moved to the sitting area. I fired up Google and started my search. Only five minutes into it, I knew I didn’t have nearly enough info to find out who Thomas was. I wasted time searching through Paradise Valley obituaries and tried to narrow my search by age. Unable to do so, I snapped my computer shut and sighed.

If Thomas
was
dead, he would have had to have died within the last two decades or so to be searchable on the internet. If it was longer than that, I suppose I could look at the library. I shook my head at the thought; it could take days and it wasn’t a guarantee for answers.

I looked at Ethan; he was still sleeping peacefully. I knew he would probably advise against the plan I had suddenly come up with. Silently, I took my book, salt, and white candles into the spare room. Hunter jumped up on the bed, alert and prepared to save me if need be. I poured a circle of salt on the floor, lit the candles, and whispered a spell.

The room was gray. Invisible pressure weighted down on me. I smiled; I was in the spirit realm.

“Thomas?” I whispered. “Are you here?”

I closed my eyes and let my mental shields drop. And I didn’t feel anything.

“Is anyone here?” I asked. I waited, unmoving, for several minutes. There was absolutely nothing here. I pulled myself back to my world, blew out the candles, and cleaned up the salt. I sighed, disappointed that I came up empty handed again. Though, I was sure that ruled out any ghost theory Ethan had.
 
Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep anytime soon, I grabbed a book and read until I was tired.

~*~

When René called me the next morning and asked if I wanted to hang out with her at Keith’s, I didn’t know how to respond. I wanted to, but I was scared I might freak out in public. Since René kind of knew what was going on with me, she promised to anchor me to reality. Nervous I might run the car off the road and die, Ethan asked me to call once I got there.

Keith lived with his grandparents while attending school. They lived within walking distance of the University in a cute, two story brick house built in the 1920s. I was surprised at how young and spry his grandmother appeared when she answered the door. After a pouring me a glass of pink lemonade and offering me cookies, she left to go to her book club.

“She is the cutest old person ever,” René told Keith and bit into a peanut butter cookie.

“I love my Bubby,” he said with a smile. “Come upstairs, I have something I want to show you.” We followed him to his room. “These just came in today,” he told us and picked up a little velvet bag. “Runes!”

“Sweet!” René gushed and took the bag from him. “Can you read them?” she asked me.

“I should know how to,” I admitted. “I have to look up the meanings in the book still.”

“I’ve been going through them all day,” Keith said. “Let me try and read yours.”

René handed me the bag. I took it and slowly turned it around, mixing up the Runes. I closed my eyes and thought of Thomas. I reached my hand inside the bag and pulled out a smooth stone.

“Thurisaz,” Keith read. “I believe that translates into something like torturing women.”

“Of course it does,” I sighed.

“But in a reading it comes as a warning, so you can stop the bad thing.”

“I will stop it,” I said with too much determination. Keith raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure you will,” he affirmed. “René, you’re next.”

We played with the Runes for a while, moved onto reading Tarot cards, and then just sat around talking.
 
René and Keith both were very animated when they spoke, and they were both charismatic and funny. I liked being around them.

After using the bathroom, I noticed a family picture hanging on the wall in the hallway. Keith was standing with his parents and a younger boy who had to be his brother; they looked remarkably alike. I took a step further down the hall and looked at the next frame; this one held a photo of Keith and his grandmother at what I guess was the book club. Six elderly women and Keith held up a copy of the same book. I recognized it to be an infamous erotic novel. I smiled at the photograph. A decorative mirror was center in between the photographs. I fussed over my hair for a few seconds before heading back to Keith’s room.

Something bumped against the door behind me. I whipped around and saw a shadow move across the door frame.

“Hello?” I asked quietly. I took a tentative step toward the door and stretched my hand out to reach for the knob. A cat meowed and I laughed. “Silly kitty,” I whispered. “I thought you were a hallucination again.” I opened the door and a brown tabby cat shot into the hall and leapt down the stairs.
 
Before I turned to go back into Keith’s room, movement caught my eye. Without realizing what I was doing, I crossed the threshold and entered the room.

The sky was covered in thick, gray clouds, and a chilling wind blew the dead leaves around the small yard. A flash of blonde moved through a patch of overgrown hedges.

Thomas.

I didn’t remember going down the stairs, opening the door, or walking across the back yard. Cold mist powdered my face yet it didn’t make me shiver. Twigs snapped under my bare feet, and in my head I knew the uneven ground should have been painful. I pushed through the hedges and climbed over the rusting iron fence.
 
I crossed an alley, cut through someone’s yard, padded across a street, and wandered through a ditch and into a thin forest.

I pushed through low hanging branches and forced my way past prickly weeds. I came to a flat, circular clearing. Heaps of leaves covered bulky stones. I stopped in the center and felt a cold energy run through me. I closed my eyes and held out my hands. Not a single thought went through my mind. I just felt…peaceful.

“Anora!”

I jumped. When I opened my eyes, I had no idea where I was. Instantly shivering, I looked around.

“Anora!” someone called again.

I felt so drained. “René?” I answered.

“Thank God!” she replied. “Don’t move, we’re coming.”

“Ok,” I said weakly. I had no idea how I got here. Where was I? Something familiar hung in the air, something ancient and…powerful.
 
Gray sky was visible through the trees. Through the forest, I could see houses.

“Shit, I haven’t been here in years,” Keith swore once they emerged into the clearing. “Why in the world—” he cut off once he saw me.

The sight of my friends was reassuring. Fatigue rushed through me as well, making me oddly emotional.

“Anora, are you alright?” René asked and hurried to me.

“I-I’m not sure,” I answered.

She took my hand. “You’re freezing!”

After she said it, I felt it. And I realized that my socks were soaking wet.

“Ok,” Keith started and took off his jacket. “What the hell is going on?” He put his coat around my shoulders.

I shook my head, feeling out of breath. “I-I don’t know. You cat was trapped upstairs and when I opened the door, I saw…something through the window. I guess I followed it.”

“To the graveyard?” Keith asked incredulously.

“Graveyard?” I looked up at him.

“That’s what this is.” He moved aside and kicked at a pile of leaves. The writing had worn off through years of wind, rain, and snow, but there was no mistaking that the large rock was a head stone. “I used to play here when I was a kid. My mom was so mad and told me it was disrespectful.”

I didn’t know what to say. I pulled the edges of the coat around myself. “I’m glad you guys found me,” I dumbly stated.

“We thought you left,” René said. “Twenty minutes later we realized your car was still here.”

“Wait,
twenty
minutes?” I questioned.

“Twenty or thirty,” Keith affirmed.

“How far am I from your house?”

“We’re just across the street, really. Maybe three minutes, if that.”

I shook my head, as if that would shake away the confusion. “What was I doing out here for twenty minutes?”

René and Keith exchanged worried glances.

“I should go,” I blurted and stepped forward, only to put my foot down on a stick and wince in pain.

“Anora, no,” René said quickly. “Come back to the house first. Call Ethan. I don’t think you should drive.”

Keith eyed me, the confusion obvious on his face. “Yeah, I don’t think you should either.”

I nodded; they were right. “Ok.” I took a few more steps forward.

“Stop,” Keith said and moved in front of me. “There used to be broken glass all over. I think that was the real reason we weren’t allowed to play here.” He turned around and leaned forward. “Get on.”

It was the most awkward piggyback ride I’d ever had, but it saved my feet. Nothing was said between the three of us until we were back in the house. I stopped in the kitchen and removed my filthy socks.

“I have a feeling I’m missing something,” Keith said quietly.

“I’d tell you if I knew,” I admitted. René and I sat at the kitchen table while Keith poured us each glasses of lemonade. “I don’t know what’s going on,” I reiterated. I looked at René. “I should call Ethan, he’ll want to know.”

“Was it a ghost?” Keith asked excitedly and handed me the glass of lemonade. I took a drink before putting it on the table.

“Maybe,” I answered. “I’m honestly not sure. It would make sense, especially since it led me to a graveyard.” Keith joined us at the table. “Do you know who was buried there?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Not the names. I’m sure we can find out. Did you drive past a big white house on your way here?” I nodded and he continued. “It’s the grave site of the owners of that house. They were one of the first families in this town. It’s not a big cemetery; I think there are only six or seven graves.”

“How can we find out?” I asked and leaned forward.

“There’s a museum downtown. I know there are pictures of that family along with some of their personal items. If that doesn’t answer our questions, I can ask. Bubby used to babysit the woman who owns the house. She might be able to tell me something.”

“Is that house still family owned?” René asked.

Keith shook his head. “No. I remember my grandparents say it’s had a handful of owners. I guess the plumbing is bad and the foundation is crumbling. As cool as it looks from the outside, I don’t think anyone wants it unless they’re willing to pay a lot to fix it up. Every few years, it gets a new owner. I like to think ghosts scare people away,” he added with a shrug.

“Damn,” René said. “I was hoping we could go knock on the door and get some answers.” Her eyes fell on me. “Now what?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” I answered.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Keith said. “You saw something, followed it, and it took you to a graveyard.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

BOOK: Reaper
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