My Tethered Soul: Volume 2 (Reaper's Rite) (14 page)

Rudy threw his hands up in the air, shouting. He ran over to the destruction, and we used the opportunity to peel away from the curb and drive away.

We arrived at Lilura’s house a short time later, but in my head, what had just happened seemed like a dream. Gavin led me inside. As I sat in the dining room, I silently scolded myself for using my magic against Rudy. I was out of control, and there was no excuse for using my powers that way. But at least my head was starting to clear.

With a reassuring smile, Gavin sat next to me and hung his arm over the back of my chair.

As Hunter and Chase disappeared into the kitchen, Lilura came out of it, coughing and hacking. She wiped her mouth with a handkerchief and shoved it in the pocket of her old-lady pants before looking my way.

She planted herself in the seat across from me, the usual scowl displayed on her face. “You look like crap.”

I had to laugh. An outsider might find her comment blunt and mean, but I found comfort in it. Irony. The heavy weight on my shoulders lightened a bit.

Hunter came back to the dining room and saved me the trouble of repeating everything that happened. I filled in the parts only I had seen, like the moving shadows and the ice-cold air that fell upon me. How the shadow had lurched at me and almost knocked me out. We even told her about Rudy. After she had heard the whole story, Lilura nodded.

“Rudy, huh? I know him as Mr. Stapleton. Never liked that man. Always causing trouble and ‘telling on’ people. He’s the one who started the rumor that I was a witch. Don’t worry about him. He’s just a lonely, bitter, old man.”

I almost laughed at the fact that Lilura called someone else bitter.

“As for the Reaper, he’s definitely haunting that house. Your mother’s energy must still be hanging around in there. He’s looking for her, but you’re answering the call.”

I rubbed at my temple. “What do we do?”

“One good thing about finding out where he’s haunting is it’s the most likely place to get him to materialize. Maybe not all the way, but if we can lure him out enough to trap him….”

“Then what?”

She waved my question away. “Don’t rush me. I’m still working on it.”

Chase reemerged from the kitchen holding something in his hand. He placed a tobacco tin on the table in front of me.

I raised a brow at him. “Um, no, thank you?”

“It’s your anti-sleepwalking potion.” He tapped a finger on the lid of the tin. “Only I’ve dried it into a powder. If I had more time, I would have made water-soluble encasements so you could take them in pill form. But I figured you didn’t want to wait any longer.”

I nodded once. “You figured right.”

“Just half a teaspoon in a glass of water before you go to bed. Let it dissolve before drinking it. And drink it all in one go; don’t leave it sitting around or anything.”

I opened the tin carefully, so the contents wouldn’t spill out. The powder had a strange smell. Like lemon and rubbing alcohol. Wrinkling my nose, I closed the tin.

“Okay. Thanks.”

Chase leaned on the table. “You know you can call me if anything happens.”

“I know, Chase. Thank you.”

Gavin leaned closer to me. “I’ll make sure she takes it.”

“You do that.” Lilura stood, pulling out her handkerchief. “Meanwhile, I’ll come up with a plan for our Reaper. I need to sleep on it. Let it brew in my mind.”

We all eyed her hopefully. She waved a hand at us, clearly annoyed.

“I’ll think of something, don’t worry. Just get home and get some rest. You should leave before the storm gets worse. That’s all I need: a bunch of hyped up teenagers sleeping over at my house.”

***

Dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Still feeling antsy, I asked Gavin to come inside the house with Mara and me. No one was hungry, so we decided to take Lilura’s advice and get some rest. I grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen before heading upstairs.

The three of us stopped in the hall between Mara’s door and mine.

“This time, come get me if anything happens.” Mara looked pointedly at Gavin. “I’ll even keep my phone next to me if you feel you can’t shoot across the hall or something.”

The side of Gavin’s mouth inched upward. “All right.”

Mara gently grabbed my arm and pecked me on the cheek. “’Night, Zadie.”

Gavin flipped on my light, and I locked my door. Dad was used to us not waiting up for him all the time, so I didn’t feel guilty shutting him out. At least, not this time.

I pulled the tobacco tin out of my pocket and set it on my nightstand with my water. As carefully as I could, I pinched out some powder and dropped it into the glass. The tiny crystals dissolved in the water, turning it a cloudy yellow. It looked disgusting and didn’t smell all that great either. But Chase said it would help, so I downed the contents in one go.

After Gavin peeked out my window, he came over to me and pushed a strand of hair over my shoulder. I gazed into his eyes. At the moment, they were the only things to numb the dull ache in my head.

“You’re staying, right?”

“Of course I am.” He yawned into his hand as he sat on the bed.

I felt bad. Here I was, ready to pass out from exhaustion, and Gavin’s plan was to stay up as long as he could to watch over me. I was robbing him of his rest. “You’re tired.”

“No, I’m good. You get some sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

He smiled at me and reached for my hand. “Where else is more important for me to be than here?”

I let him pull me to the bed. What would I do without Gavin? I hoped I would never find out. Lying beside him, my head on his shoulder, I traced the band logo on his T-shirt. He kissed the top of my head, keeping his nose buried in my hair. I just wanted to lie like that for a while and shut everything else out.

***

“Zadie.”

I opened my eyes. I hadn’t heard my mother’s voice for so long, but I could have sworn it was her calling my name.

My room was dark. I sat up in bed, and my eyes adjusted to the lack of light. Gavin was asleep beside me on the bed, his breathing slow and heavy.

“Zadie.” The voice sounded like it was coming from the hall.

“Mom?” My voice was barely a whisper. I put a hand to my throat and swallowed. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I cleared my throat. It didn’t help; it was as if I’d swallowed a bucket of sand.

Maybe I was dreaming. Exhaustion and trauma from the day’s events were probably just messing with my mind. Still, I couldn’t let it go. I reached under my pillow and grabbed the switchblade, then stood and went to the door.

My hand rested on the knob. I blinked in the darkness, questioning what I was doing. It couldn’t be my mother calling me. She was in the psychiatric hospital. Unless she somehow got out. No. That couldn’t happen. Could it?

Gripping the switchblade tighter, I unlocked the door and poked my head into the hall. Silence and darkness met me. Nothing else. I walked down the hall and stood at the top of the stairs, searching for movement. I kept still for a full minute, waiting. Just as I was about to go back to my room, I heard the click of the front door opening.

Panic jump-started my heart. I tiptoed down the stairs. When I got halfway down, the front door was in sight. A dark figure stood by it, facing away from me. I held the switchblade out in front of me, but then I saw red hair. The figure, dressed in a black cape and long, black dress, turned. Mom’s face was stoic, her expressionless eyes finding me. Her long rosewood-red hair flowed down in waves, the curly ends nestled on her shoulders.

I opened my mouth to speak.
Mom?
But I couldn’t make a sound.

As if moving in slow motion, she turned and stepped out the open door. I shook my head. She couldn’t go out there. She shouldn’t even be here. I hurried down the stairs and followed her outside. By the time I reached the porch, she was already at the end of our front walk.

Mom, wait!

The cold night air hit me as I tried to catch up with her. Luckily, I had fallen asleep in my clothes, but I didn’t have any shoes on. The wet, chilly sidewalk shot blasts of ice into my socks. The earlier storm had settled down to a drizzle. But I didn’t mind the cold or the rain. I just wanted to catch up to Mom. Where was she going?

It seemed every time I was about to catch up with her, she suddenly appeared farther away, not facing me but continuing to walk. Every attempt I made to call out to her died in my throat. Still, I pushed forward, following the flow of her cape and her fiery hair.

When she finally stopped and turned to me, I was out of breath.

“Do you know this house, Zadie?” Shadow hid Mom’s face.

I looked around, realizing where we stood. My voice came back to me. “Yes. It’s Rudy’s house.”

Mom’s eyes glowed beneath the shadow of her hair. “He is a bad man, Zadie. Did he anger you today?”

“What? How did you know—?”

“A mother always knows.” She tilted her head in the darkness. “He upset you today, didn’t he?”

I swallowed. I wasn’t the type of person to hold a grudge. Especially toward a cranky, old man who probably just didn’t have anything better to do but yell at teenagers. But I felt compelled to tell her the truth. “Yes. He said some mean things about you. But that shouldn’t bother me. I don’t care what he thinks.”

“He wasn’t very nice to me, Zadie. The names he called me. The way he looked at me.” Mom shook her head slowly. The shadow over her face darkened, but still her eyes glowed. “Someone should do something.”

I blinked at her. “Like…what?”

“Men like that are less than human, don’t you think?” Her voice was deeper now. The way it always got when she became serious. “Men like that infuriate me.”

I glanced at the house. “What exactly are we doing here, Mom?”

Her cape blew out behind her, changed in the wind. It wasn’t a cape at all, but a cloak. The tattered ends brushed the sidewalk. Mom’s hair became the Reaper’s hood. Her lovely cheeks stretched long and bones stabbed though gray skin. Her eyes went black as night. I gaped at Mom. No. Not Mom. The Reaper.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream. There was no controlling my actions, and my eyes were locked with the Reaper’s. He had me under his control.

Stretching his arm out to the side, the Reaper pointed at Rudy’s house with a long, boney finger. His voice came out like a growl. “He deserves to be punished, Zadie.”

For a second, everything went black. But I was still aware, was still trembling inside with fear. I simply had no control of my actions. The blackness disappeared as fast as it came, and before me lay the broken windmill in Rudy’s yard. I must have walked toward it—or the Reaper had moved me there.

I couldn’t keep track of my own movements. It was as if flashes of consciousness took over my brain. I saw my hand grabbing a wooden plank from Rudy’s windmill. Then my hand hovered over the front door handle. Without touching it, it clicked and the door opened. In the next instant, I stood inside the living room, staring at a snoring man on the couch. I lifted my switchblade.

No! No! Stop this!

“Listen to your mother, Zadie. Mother always knows best.”

The vision flashed again, as if someone was changing channels on a television set with every other channel blacked out. In the next instant, a scream filled the room. Blood dripped from the switchblade in my hand. Rudy sat up, rammed against the back of the couch, clutching his arm. My other hand lifted, and the wooden plank slammed against the side of his head. Blackness. Then a thump. Rudy was on the ground, face down. Blackness again.

In the next instant, I stood before the creek in our neighborhood. The wooden plank splashed into the creek, and rushing water carried it away. When I turned away from the creek, the Reaper’s shadow moved between the trees. My feet moved in his direction before the blackness returned.

Then I stood on my porch, the door to my house still open. I walked through the front door, still under the Reaper’s control. Inside I was screaming. Crying. But on the outside, I was silent, unable to speak or scream or cry.

After another flash of blackness, I stood at the foot of my bed, staring at Gavin.

No!

I willed myself not to move toward him.

No! No! No!

Gavin shifted in his sleep. The Reaper moved me to the side of the bed. My hand with the switchblade lifted.

My heart ached so badly I thought it would burst. Then an idea hit me. With every ounce of willpower I could summon, I concentrated on the chant Lilura taught Mara and me.

Oh spirits of good, heed this plea,

Let demons touch not mine nor me.

Expel the evil forces all,

Protect our bodies, mind, and soul.

No evil shall cross, no evil shall enter,

Keep pure the light…

Gavin’s eyes fluttered open. “Oh my God, Zadie!” He gasped and backed away from me.

I continued to chant in my head until I finally felt the tears that were trapped inside spill out over my lashes. I blinked. Under my own will. A hard breath escaped my mouth, as if a force of energy had suddenly left me. I dropped the switchblade to the floor, the mad beast of dizziness sinking its teeth into my skull. I wavered, and Gavin rushed toward me. I collapsed into his arms as the room spun around me.

“Zadie.”

Gavin ran a hand over my cheek. I strained to focus on him.

“You have blood all over your hand, Zadie. What have you done?”

I couldn’t stop the tears from coming, even in the morning, after I eventually got some sleep. Gavin snuck out my window before sunrise and rang the doorbell, pretending to pick me up for breakfast with the gang. I waved goodbye to Dad, glad that I’d stopped crying long enough for him not to notice I was upset—and especially glad he was a heavy sleeper and hadn’t woken up when Gavin found me covered in blood. Dad nodded curtly to Gavin, who stood on the front porch, hands buried deep in his pants pockets.