My Tethered Soul: Volume 2 (Reaper's Rite) (21 page)

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Authors: Dorothy Dreyer

Tags: #reaper, #young adult, #teen fantasy, #death and dying, #teen paranormal, #teen horror

BOOK: My Tethered Soul: Volume 2 (Reaper's Rite)
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Helene giggled. “If you want my beauty secrets, all you have to do is ask. Goodness knows you need it.”

Mrs. Poulter took in a deep breath, but kept her expression complacent. She momentarily glanced at the rest of us, but then focused her attention back on the petite woman in front of her. “Is there a purpose for your darkening of my doorstep, Helene?”

“Please. You know this is the best your doorstep’s looked in years.” Helene flung a strand of her hair over her shoulder. “Or at least it was before you came into the room.”

Mrs. Poulter actually smirked for a second, then regained her composure, smoothing her hair back and checking the tight bun at the back of her head. “Out with it already. How can I help you?”

Helene lifted her chin. “We’re here to talk about breaking the Reaper’s Rite.”

Mrs. Poulter’s eyes narrowed at Helene. She then scrutinized the rest of us, her eyes like searing hot blades as they fell on me.

“And I suppose this is no ordinary posse, is it? What do we have here?”

Helene pointed a perfectly manicured nail at each of us. “Three Vila, an alchemist, a Cation, and—should we need to perform a sacrifice ritual—a human virgin.”

Naomi’s jaw dropped. “Hey!”

We all turned to her. She lowered her chin.

“Not that it’s not true. Just don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room.”

Lilura let out another round of coughs. She hunched over a bit more than usual. Chase supported her arm, as if she would fall if she didn’t have something to hold on to.

Mrs. Poulter raised a delicate hand in front of her. “As much as I’d love to indulge in what I’m sure is a hilarious attempt at performing some kind of magical spell, I cannot help you in regards to the Reaper’s Rite. There’s simply no way around it.”

Helene’s voice took on a serious tone. “You and I both know you’re lying, Morgan.”

“I have no reason to lie.”

“Yes, you do. You’re a direct descendant of the witch who originally made the pact. Seems to me that means you have plenty to lose.”

Mrs. Poulter took a deliberate step closer to Helene, eyes locked. “You’re a crazy old woman. You always have been, and you always will be. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. Please see yourselves out.”

Suddenly, Lilura moaned and slipped from Chase’s grasp, collapsing to the floor. I rushed to her side, crouching on the black-and-white tile. Lilura’s eyes were closed, and I couldn’t tell if she was breathing.

“What trickery is this, Helene?” Mrs. Poulter asked.

“No trickery, I promise.” Helene helped us prop Lilura up. “Now prove to me you’re not Satan’s daughter and help us bring her to a couch or something.”

Mrs. Poulter hesitated for a second, nostrils flaring on her otherwise perfectly put-together face, before stepping toward Lilura and helping us lift her.

“This way.”

She led us into a living room with a huge fireplace. Mrs. Poulter held her hand out in the direction of a fancy-looking couch. The old man who answered the door stepped into the room beside her. After the struggle to get her into the room, we set Lilura down on the couch and regarded each other. Chase knelt at her side and felt for her pulse. Her eyes popped open. She coughed and wheezed, all the while waving at him to get away from her.

“What’s wrong with her?” Mrs. Poulter asked.

“She’s dying.” Chase’s voice was low and soft.

My eyes widened. “What?”

He glanced at me only for a second. Then he stood and faced Mrs. Poulter. “We battled a Reaper last fall. The Reaper’s knife cut into Vila skin. A knife rooted in poison, as you know. The Reaper was defeated, the Vila brought to safety. And Lilura… sucked the poison out.”

I gasped and backed up. Gavin put his hands on my shoulders and Naomi grabbed my hand.

Chase lowered his voice when he turned to me. “She had to. You would have died otherwise.”

Tears stung my eyes. “And now
she’s
dying?”

My head spun. It was too much for my brain to handle. Too surreal. Lilura saved my life, risking her own? My heart felt like a vice squeezed it. Who else’s pain and suffering would I be responsible for?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said on a shuddered breath.

Chase averted his gaze. “She made me promise not to.”

I shook my head, unable to get a firm grasp on the situation.

Mrs. Poulter pressed her lips together. “If she’s dying, why did you bring her here?”

Chase’s face reddened and he clenched his jaw. “She’s the best Vila still alive. She knows more than anyone, witches included. We need her knowledge—and your witchcraft—to break the pact.”

I actually flinched at the strength of Chase’s voice.

Mrs. Poulter narrowed her eyes at Chase. “What makes you think I would help you?”

Helene stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Mrs. Poulter’s arm. “Morgan, there’s good in you. There always has been. Look at this girl. Her mother was taken away to a psychiatric hospital. Her sister was in a coma last year. Her Reaper possessed her until this one took him down. And it’s not over. You need to help us stop the torment.”

Mrs. Poulter darted her eyes between us, brows lowered and mouth in a thin line. “I still don’t see why it’s any of my business.”

“Let’s just say this is as much your business as it was mine to save you from that angry mob that was out to get you years ago.”

Mrs. Poulter regarded Helene. She crossed her arms and tapped her fingernails against her elbow. “I can’t promise anything. There are no guarantees here. But I will help. We’ll at least do what we can.”

Helene smiled.

Mrs. Poulter gestured for us to take a seat on the many couches and chairs in the room. As I scooted in next to Gavin, my eyes immediately went to the giant samurai sword displayed above the bookcase. By the window, tall porcelain statues stood. The carpets were white and plush. It struck me again that this wasn’t at all what I imagined a witch’s house would look like.

Mrs. Poulter turned to the old man waiting by the door. “Jeffrey, please bring our guest a glass of water, and then call my children down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jeffrey nodded and left the room.

With a scowl on her face, Lilura tried to sit up. Chase stepped toward her, as if to help, but when she shot him a hostile look, he backed up and stuck his hands in his trench coat pockets.

Sable rushed into the room, hopping up on the couch next to Lilura. She meowed and gently pawed at her arm. Was she checking on her owner?

Lilura flung a chunk of hair out of her face. She eyed Mrs. Poulter, but couldn’t seem to hold her gaze. “With all due respect, I don’t need your pity.”

“I hardly consider a glass of water pity. And for all you know, I could have had it poisoned. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to trust a witch?”

The corner of Lilura’s mouth twitched upward for a split second.

“Your water, ma’am,” Jeffrey announced as he presented a silver tray holding a crystal glass.

“I’m no ‘ma’am.’ Call me Lilura.” She snatched the glass off the tray and pressed it to her wrinkled lips. Jeffrey kept a straight face as he bowed and left the room.

Mrs. Poulter cleared her throat. “I’ll have the guest rooms made ready, and you can all stay the night. We can discuss the Reaper’s Rite after dinner, once you’ve all rested from your trip.”

“There are two more of us coming,” Chase said. “My brother and another Vila.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Mrs. Poulter donned a sarcastic smile. “I hardly expected a full house, Helene. You could have given me some warning.”

“Warning to fly the coop?” Helene scoffed. “I’m not that stupid.”

Mrs. Poulter raised a brow. “That theory’s never been proven.”

“Neither has your age.”

“They should be here soon,” Chase cut in. “Thank you for letting us stay, Mrs. Poulter. I’m… sorry I raised my voice to you earlier.”

“Don’t be sorry, darling.” Helene took a compact out of her purse and checked her reflection. “She could use a good slap in the face once in a while. Puts some much-needed color in her cheeks.”

“You called, Mother?” A girl about my age appeared at the door. Her black hair was styled in a chin-length bob, the tips dyed baby blue. Her brown eyes flitted around the room, taking in the roomful of people, all the while keeping her full lips in a straight line. The piercing in her eyebrow glinted in the light. She wore a short-sleeved silk blouse above a black and pink plaid skirt and white knee-high socks. Heavy black Doc Martens completed the look.

To her right was another girl my age, but her look was softer. She had flowing auburn hair that fell smoothly to just below her shoulders. Her eyes were a shade of blue that matched a starlit sky when the moon was full. She wore a simple yellow and white summer dress and beige wedge shoes.

To the left, texting on his phone, stood a guy who looked between Mara’s and Hunter’s ages. He glanced up for a moment and gave us a curt nod. With the same brown eyes as the girl with the blue tips, his face was more defined and rugged. He was almost too handsome to be real. He stood almost a whole head taller than Blue Tips, even with his laid-back, almost-slouchy posture.

“Yes, Diana. We have company. They will be joining us for dinner and staying with us tonight.” Mrs. Poulter faced us again but gestured to the three people at the door. “This is my daughter Diana,” she said, her hand held out to indicate Blue Tips, “and my son Paxton. The lovely young lady next to Diana is my niece, Erina. Erina has been living with us for almost a year now.”

Helene smiled at the trio. “My, how you’ve all grown. You probably don’t remember me, but at one point I changed each of your diapers.”

“Ew.” Diana wrinkled her nose.

“This is Helene,” Mrs. Poulter said.

“And these are my friends: Lilura, Chase, Zadie, Gavin, and Naomi.”

Erina smiled at us, but Diana scrutinized us as if she didn’t trust us. Paxton continued to text.

“I’m going to show Lilura to her room, as she’s not feeling well,” Mrs. Poulter told them. “Please entertain the rest of our guests until I return.”

“Sure, whatever.” Diana walked over and rested her hands on the back of one of the chairs. Her fingernails were baby blue to match her hair.

Chase took Lilura’s arm and helped her up from the couch. She looked like she was about to fight him off, but then her face twisted and her hand pressed up against her chest.

“I’ll help,” Helene said. She and Chase supported Lilura as Mrs. Poulter led them out of the room.

Sable meowed, almost following them. She whipped her head around to look at us, then trotted to Erina, rubbing up against her legs.

“Cute cat. Did you have a long trip?” Erina asked.

“My butt is permanently molded into the shape of the seat in the car.” Naomi smirked. “So, yeah.”

“What exactly are you doing here, anyway?” Diana cracked her knuckles.

Gavin and I exchanged a look.

“I don’t know where to begin,” I said.

Diana rolled her eyes. “Never mind. It’s probably boring anyway.”

The phone in Paxton’s hand played a quick tune. He held it to his ear, a charming smile appearing on his face. “Hey, babe. I was just thinking about you.” He wandered off to the corner of the room where we couldn’t hear him.

“The older woman—is she all right?” Erina sat down on the couch beside me. Sable jumped up on her lap.

“She’s…sick.”

“Sorry.” Erina grimaced.

“Is that why you came?” Diana narrowed her eyes at me. “To buy a remedy off my mom?”

“No. We’re here to talk about, well, the Reaper’s Rite.” I watched her expression to see if she knew what I was referring to.

Diana pursed her lips. “Are you a Vila?”

I rubbed my hands on my shorts and then nodded.

Diana let out a small laugh, then shook her head and left the room.

What was that about?

Paxton, who was finished with his phone call, sauntered over to us. “Don’t mind her. She hates everyone.”

He winked at Naomi. She grinned and averted her eyes, cheeks aflame.

“What about you?” Paxton asked Gavin.

Gavin slipped his arm around me. “I’m her Cation.”

Paxton leaned forward. “No way. That’s cool; I’ve never met a Cation before. You look normal.”

“You mean as normal as a witch?” Gavin asked.

Paxton laughed. “Touché.”

His phone sang again. He stood as he answered it. “Hey, babe. No, I swear I was just about to call you.”

He winked at Naomi again before he ambled back to the corner of the room.

Naomi leaned toward Erina. “So, what’s his deal?”

“Who? Paxton? He’s a dork.”

“No, really.”

“Okay. He’s a huge dork.”

Naomi lowered her voice. “He’s got a girlfriend?”

Erina laughed, shaking her head. “More like a harem.”

“I can see why. He’s cute.”

Erina shrugged, running her fingers along Sable’s back. “Sorry, I don’t see it. But maybe it’s the whole cousin thing.”

“Trust me, he is.”

“Don’t get sucked into that. Paxton is what people call a ‘player.’ Getting girls to like him is a game to him. He discards them as easily as he gets them.”

Naomi tilted her head. “Oh.”

“Yeah, you’ve been warned. Don’t blame me if you fall for his charms.”

From across the room, Paxton glanced at Naomi and smiled.

She waved back at him. “Okay, I won’t.”

Chapter Eighteen

 

The doorbell rang, the chimes echoing like church bells in the foyer. I sat up straight and craned my neck as Jeffrey answered the door. After an exchange of mumbled words, Mara and Hunter entered the living room.

I stood and hurried toward my sister. “What took you so long?”

Mara rolled her eyes. “Genius here decided to take the scenic route.”

“I’d say it was a genius move.” Hunter smirked and shrugged. “I got to spend more time with you holding on to me, didn’t I?”

Mara’s brow inched upward. “And I got to spend more time having to endure your stink.”

“You just don’t want to admit how much you enjoyed yourself.” He leaned close to her, his lips near her ear. “And my
stink
will have you tossing and turning all night. Mark my words.”

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