Reaper (36 page)

In reality I was wearing my favorite pair of Pumas, jeans that were easy to move in, and a long sleeved black shirt. My dark hair was in a messy French braid and my dagger hung from my waist. When Clarice opened her door, she would see me as the tall, platinum blonde model complete with her signature skimpy black dress and trashy heels. When I looked down at myself, I saw the jeans and sneakers. Catch my reflection in any remotely shiny surface…it shocked me every time.

Harrison gaped at me, his gaze glued to me. “I’ve seen a lot of weird things, but this has to be the weirdest.” He shook his head, as if trying to shake some sense into what he was seeing.

“Do I sound like myself?” I wondered.

“Yeah,” René answered, also starring in awe.

“Oh, dang it. Oh well I guess,” I said with a shrug. There was nothing I could do about it anyway. “Is Ethan still outside?”

Harrison turned to look out the sliding glass door. “Yeah, he said he was gonna fill up a water trough for something.”

“Ok,” I said and nodded. I carefully sat on the edge of a chair, feeling as if my fake appearance was dirty. I was curious as to how Ethan would react to me looking like someone else. I wasn’t sure if I should let him kiss me. Yes, it was really me, but I didn’t look like me. So therefore, in my mind at least, he shouldn’t
want
to touch me right now. I didn’t want his hands on someone else’s body, feeling the smoothness of Mindy’s long legs or the fakeness of her silicon breasts. When I really thought about it, I felt bad for the real Mindy. If only the model knew…

“Why didn’t you do the glamour?” Ethan questioned when he came inside.

I looked at Harrison, confused. “I did.”

“You look like Anora.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” Ethan insisted.

René gently poked my bare arm. “She looks totally different. You’re joking, right?”

Ethan circled me. “No.”

Well, that was puzzling. Did I do the spell wrong? “Harry, what am I wearing?”

Harrison blinked several times. “Uh, a black dress.”

“No, you’re wearing jeans and a black shirt,” Ethan said, shaking his head. Hunter nosed his hand.

“I look the same to Hunter too,” I told everyone, getting up. “And when I look at myself, I’m normal. But,” I dragged Ethan in front of a mirror, “when I look in a mirror, I see Mindy.”

Ethan stiffened. “Now you’re her.” He looked back and forth from me to the mirror five times.

“The Book said that sometimes glamours are hard to pull off in front of family or close friends because they know you too well to be fooled by magic.”

“But Harrison sees it,” Ethan voiced for me.

“Exactly. And he knows me pretty well.”

“I don’t know, Annie.” He shook his head and ran his hand over his hair. “I’m glad you look normal to me. I’m not a fan of blondes.”

I smiled. “Good.” We rejoined the group.
 
“What do you think I’ll look like in a picture?” I asked suddenly.

“Anora,” Ethan cut in. “We don’t have time for that.”

“You’re right.” I led the way outside.

Clarice got out of work five minutes early. Ethan must have followed people before, because I didn’t think the girl had the slightest clue she was being tracked. Like me, she drove a Prius, and she lived in a normal, well kept house downtown.

We parked across the street. After ten or so minutes of letting her get settled from work, I got out of the car. Ethan grabbed my wrist.

“Be careful.” His eyes pleaded. “I’ll be right outside. I’ll be able to hear if you need help.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assured him, though I didn’t believe it myself. “Hunter will be with me.” Now
that
was actually very reassuring. “And I have this.” I patted my pocked, which was full of black salt. “And this.” I motioned to the dagger. Ethan nodded. “I love you,” I told him.

“You too.” He let me go and I crossed the street, trepidation building at a rate I did not approve of.
Here goes nothing
, I thought and rang the doorbell. It took Clarice a minute to answer. She opened the door, looking annoyed before the visual set in. With a shriek, she slammed the door. I had expected that, and telekinetically jammed it. The line I’d rehearsed seemed stupid now. Without saying anything, I pushed the door back.

“Hello Clarice,” I said calmly and instantly wished I had gone with something else, since I just sounded like Hannibal Lecter.
 
“Aren’t you gonna invite us in?” She whimpered, fighting with the door. “You’re not gonna win that one,” I said with a sigh, trying to come off as bored. I mentally pushed harder. Hunter leapt through the opening. Clarice recoiled and I took the chance to step in as well.

We were in a small foyer. The cloud covered sun filtered in little light. The dim living room ahead of us was messy and cluttered; I guessed that happens when you’re preoccupied with terrorizing someone. Behind that was a kitchen, with a staircase to the right. Her bedroom had to be up there. I wanted to smash her altar.

The door slammed behind me. I let the glamour go and breathed a breath of relief; it was like taking off a too small and itchy sweater.

“W-what do you want?” she stammered, cowering.

“I just want to talk,” I stated calmly. “What do you want with me?”

“Nothing!” she screamed, fearfully watching Hunter. Clarice was farouche and mousy, so unlike the fake persona she liked to portray. She took a few nervous steps back.

“Bull shit. And don’t even try to pretend anything, obviously I figured your little game out.”

“I don’t want anything with you,” she told me, confidence rising. “He does.”

The demon, yes, I already knew that. “Who is he?”

“Like hell I’d tell you!” she jeered. She sprung forward, extending her hand. Hunter lunged but it did little to stop her. Curtains suddenly whooshed closed, sealing out any sunlight. And sealing us in. I could feel the lines of magic being drawn; with borrowed black magic, we were stuck in the house.

I didn’t see the dark stone in her hand until she threw it. A flash of bright light blinded me. When my eyes finally readjusted, she was gone. The flash bothered Hunter as well, but he could track by scent.
Find her
, I thought to him. I tripped over a pair of shoes and crashed into an end table, sending a lamp and an expensive crystal vase crashing onto the hardwood floor. Oh well.
That’s karma for you, bitch
, I thought.

 
Where the hell had she gone? What the hell was she doing? Someone pounded on the front door. Ethan. He was shouting. His voice was muffled, as if he was behind ten doors instead of just one, thanks to the black magic. If I couldn’t hear him, then he couldn’t hear me. Feeling horrible for not responding, I followed Hunter into the kitchen.

Dirty dishes piled the sink and empty frozen dinner boxes spilled out of the garbage. Clarice had really let herself go. The smell of horrible decay wafted from the garbage. The return to sender spell must have driven Clare off the edge. I was glad I didn’t have Hunter’s nose…

 
Hunter led the way up the stairs, slinking cautiously.
 
We walked past a small bedroom. My eyes flitted over the pale pink bedspread and white dresser. Pink teddy bears were stenciled along its top, dancing and looking happy.
 
The mirror above it was shattered into a million pieces. The next door held back a bathroom. Even in the minimal light, I could tell it had been a while since the floor was swept and mopped. Mildew crusted towels molded in a corner. The stench was revolting. Shards of glass glittered the dirty floor; this mirror had also been smashed.

Clarice was in her room—the door was even open—bent over the baphomet. A freshly drawn inverted pentagram dripped on the mirror in front of her. I didn’t need Hunter’s amazing sense of smell to know it had been drawn with blood.

She was muttering Latin. Crap, she was invoking something. I didn’t know what to do. Hunter did, and he leapt forward, knocking Clarice to the ground. She struggled to push him off. I scanned the altar; it was the same as I’d seen it before, with no clue to the demon’s identity. There was a sharp
crack
. I spun around just in time to see Hunter fly off Clarice. He rolled onto his feet, unharmed.

Clarice sat up and flung her hand out. With the same sound of a cracking whip, I flew back, painfully hitting the wall. Two can play this game…
Move!
I thought to Hunter and threw a ball of energy into the mirror. The pentagram shattered, raining shards of glass on Clarice. She cried out and quickly retaliated, sending the chair she had been sitting on at my face. I stopped it a mere inch before it knocked my teeth out. I threw my hand to the side; the chair splintered into pieces when it hit the wall. I scrambled toward Hunter, wanting to protect him.

The shield of energy came not a moment too soon because Clarice was magically throwing anything she could at us. I wrapped my arms around Hunter and waited for her reign of insanity to end. The telekinetic umbrella I held over us began to weigh on me. Clarice was standing close to us, her hands extended. She was trying to jam a hex of dizziness down my throat. I let go of Hunter and, with a move Ethan would approve of, I kicked her feet out from under her. She fell hard on her back. Drywall sprinkled from above. Hunter and I dove out of the way as Clarice yanked the ceiling fan down. Sparks flew, and one of the blades clipped my ankle. It hurt, but I’d live.

Reading my thoughts, Hunter grabbed the baphomet. I pulled myself forward, needing to get away from Clarice and come up with a plan. She grabbed my foot and pulled me back, my nails scraping the floor. She sat on my back and pulled my hair, trying to slam my head down. I pushed up, arching my back and kicked, hitting her hard enough to stun her and flip her over. She was fast, and her bloody hands tightened around my throat. My first instinct was to pull them off, but the bitch had a death grip. So I punched her, square in the mouth. She let go, and squirmed away. My fist throbbed. I sprang up, sliding on the broken glass and sprinted down the stairs. Hunter was pawing at the door, trying to figure out how to break the magical locks. He let me know the windows were sealed tight too.

I tried to telekinetically open the door. It didn’t budge a freaking inch.
 
Hunter heard Clarice try to sneak down the stairs. He asked if it was ok to attack a human.

“Be my guest,” I said aloud. Not wanting to be cornered in the foyer, we went back into the messy living room. I could sense Clarice lurking in the kitchen. I prepared myself to block anything she tried to throw, but I wasn’t expecting a black orb of energy to come whizzing at me. I ducked out of the way. The singeing ball missed my face but hit my left arm, burning my skin. I instantly grabbed it, not at all prepared for her to throw another. Hunter pushed me out of the way and the black orb crackled as it hit the wall, leaving glob of smoldering soot.

Using the couch for a barrier, I conjured my own energy orb and flung it at her. She held up her hand to stop it. It burst into a million tiny balls of white light and shocked her, sparking blue on impact. I was so impressed that it actually worked my reactions were delayed. As she fell, Clarice flung another black orb. I stripped my own energy quickly conjuring one of my own. I released it and ducked; the white orb collided with the black, and they exploded, sending sparks everywhere. Clarice wobbled. I knew that stance: she was running out of energy.

I held my hand in front of me, a brilliant bright ball of white light threatening to be released. Clarice tried to form her own and failed. Only a dark purple spark snapped out of her hands. Her face broke into horror. While she was distracted, Hunter moved with super sped to get the baphomet. He dropped it at my feet.

“NO!” Clarice cried and made a move for it. My orb glowed brighter. She stopped and crumpled to the ground. Her body shook as if going through withdrawal. The orb hovered in the air and I bent down to pick up the baphomet. My hair had been wrapped around it; I yanked it off and stuffed it into my pocket.
 
I dropped and kicked the statue; it was her demon fix.

“What does he want with me?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“I won’t ever tell you!” she yelled.

“Tell me his name and I’ll ask myself.”

“Like he would talk to you,” she began to sob.

“Why do I get the feeling that he can’t? Oh, maybe because he hasn’t.” I let the orb bob above her. I unsheathed the dagger. “You’ve spent a lot of time and energy making my life hell.” I pointed the dagger at her heart. “Don’t make it be for nothing.”

She stopped crying long enough to laugh. “You can’t win!” Great, she reminded me of her annoying creation, Thomas. I wanted to ask her why she decided to go with the image of a child. Did she think it would lure me in? I could ask about that later. “Just tell me the demon’s name, and this can all be over.”

Her head tipped back and she inhaled pleasurably, running her hands over her stomach. “You’re not worthy to speak his name!”

Hunter snarled, and she shrieked.
 
Her magical enforcement weakened. “If he’s so good, then why doesn’t he come and get me?” When Clarice didn’t answer I called, “HELLO! Mysterious demon-man. It’s me, Anora! Come and get me!” Nothing happened. “Wow, I’m so impressed.”