My Tethered Soul: Volume 2 (Reaper's Rite) (22 page)

Mara opened her mouth, but she kept silent. She snapped her lips shut and growled before she turned away from him.

“Hi, I’m Erina.” Walking over from the couch, Erina smiled.

Just as I introduced my sister and Hunter, a portly woman in a black servant’s uniform walked up behind Hunter.

The woman cleared her throat. “Excuse me. I’m Britta. The lady of the house wants me to inform you that dinner will be served shortly. If you follow me, I’ll show you to the dining room.”

“Perfect,” Hunter said. “I’m starving.”

“I’ll go get Diana.” Erina put a hand on my arm as she walked passed. “See you at dinner.”

Paxton continued to talk on his phone, seemingly oblivious to us.

Britta escorted us through the house, passing expensive-looking, wall-mounted art and oil paintings of who I assumed were family members. The dining room was massive; the long, dark walnut table in the center of the room sat on a beautiful Persian rug and was big enough to seat twelve people at least. On the far wall stood an intricately carved grandfather clock, its golden pendulum swinging to each second. Above it, mounted on the wall, was another huge samurai sword. The shiny blade looked razor sharp.

Two additional servants set the table with the finest china I’d ever seen. The silverware actually sparkled in the light. The dinner glasses had gold rims.

I suddenly felt extremely underdressed.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Britta gestured to the bar at the corner of the room.

“Got any scotch?” Hunter hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets.

Mrs. Poulter entered the room, Helene and Chase shuffling in behind her. “Please make yourselves at home. Lilura is resting, but said she’d be down later. The first course will be served presently.”

She motioned toward the table. I bee-lined it to the nearest chair and slid into it. The rest of the group assembled around the long table, with Mrs. Poulter at one end. Just as I wondered if there was a Mr. Poulter, a tall man in glasses and an anthracite-colored suit strode in. His hair grayed at the sides, and his sideways glances told me he didn’t trust us. He wouldn’t look anyone in the eye as he took his seat, but kept his chin up—probably to give the impression of how important he was.

“This is my husband.” Mrs. Poulter offered a small smile.

Gavin subtly gave me a wide-eyed look, as if telling me he found Mr. Poulter kind of creepy.

“If he seems quiet,” Diana said as she strolled in, Erina and Paxton in tow, “it’s because he doesn’t approve of fraternizing with Vila.”

Mara and I glanced at each other. So that explained what happened earlier, when Diana left the room laughing. No doubt she thought this would be an entertaining visit.

“Go on, Father. Tell them what you think.” Diana grinned and batted her lashes.

Mrs. Poulter cleared her throat as she placed a cloth napkin on her lap. “Diana, your manners, please.”

Diana rolled her eyes and dropped into a chair. “Whatever.”

“Your mother and I have an understanding, Diana.” Mr. Poulter’s voice was calm. “I trust that she knows how to handle her business. She has every right to carry on, as long as she does not include me.”

An awkward silence fogged the room as the first course—Thai pumpkin soup with coconut milk—was served. I’d never felt more uncomfortable; between not knowing which spoon to use and avoiding Mr. Poulter’s scrutiny, I wanted to flee from the table, to hell with my grumbling tummy. Of course, I changed my mind once I tasted the soup. It was the most delicious food that had ever passed my lips. Naomi obviously liked it as well, happily slurping until I gave her a swift kick under the table so she’d quiet down.

“Nice necklace,” Erina said to me between bites. “Agate, right?”

I put my hand on the stone. “Yes.”

“For protection. A good thing to have.” She smiled. “It’s pretty too.”

“Thank you.”

Lilura joined us just as the servants set the plates down for the main course. Hunter pulled her chair out for her, but Lilura swatted him away. I was so happy to see her. She had a little color back in her face, and she didn’t hunch so much.

“Lilura, darling.” Helene clasped her hands together. “How are you feeling?”

“Thanks to that tea Morgan had brewed up for me, much better.” Lilura sat in the spot across from me. Her expression was almost pleasant. What was in that tea?

“Grandma.” Chase’s voice was hushed. “Are you sure?”

She shifted in her chair, glancing at me before facing him. “It was just weariness from the car ride. My body’s not made for long trips.”

For the rest of dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Poulter kept their eyes on each other. I wondered if they were having some kind of secret, unspoken conversation. It certainly felt like it.

Finally, before dessert was served, Mr. Poulter stood. “I’m retiring to the den. Please, excuse me.”

“Sorry about him,” Paxton said once his father was out of the room. “He can be kind of an ass.”

“Paxton!” Mrs. Poulter chided.

Hunter stifled a laugh.

“You know it’s true, Mother.” Diana propped her elbows on the table. “Actually, I was hoping for more of a show. I’m amazed he made it this long without judging someone. And there are
four
Vila at the table!”

“Diana, that will be enough.” Mrs. Poulter patted her mouth with her napkin. “Now that my husband has left the room, we might touch upon the subject of the Reaper’s Rite.”

Helene checked her reflection in her fork. “All these years we’ve known each other, I should have known you were the ancestor of the witch who made the deal.”

“The subject never came up.” Mrs. Poulter lifted her wineglass. “Why would I offer that information? Besides, as you could clearly see by my husband’s behavior, my family isn’t exactly proud of its Vila connection.”

Lilura pushed her dessert plate away, leaving the pear and cinnamon tartlet untouched. “What can you tell us about the Rite?”

Mrs. Poulter joined her hands on the table’s edge. Everyone waited for her to speak. “The witch who made the pact was in the middle of a war. Witches and faeries alike were being slaughtered. She wanted it to end. The only way she knew to do this—to win the war by conquering the faeries— was for witches to massively increase their power. So she summoned a Reaper and made the deal.”

“Is there a way to break it?” Lilura asked.

Mrs. Poulter shook her head. “If there is, I’ve never heard of it. Besides, the war is still going on. Not as it did then, but in private battles humans never hear word of. Every witch knows about the deal that was made. If we break the pact of our ancestor, who’s to say another witch won’t summon another Reaper and make a new pact?”

Lilura and Helene exchanged a look. Lilura leaned forward. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, I suppose. Our main concern is to break this pact now and stop the Reaper attacks.”

“What do you propose we do?”

Helene swallowed a bite of her tartlet. “I say we have a word with your great, great, great grandmother. I’m sure there’s a few more ‘greats’ in there, but who can even keep track?”

“A séance?” Diana creased her brow, a bemused smile twisting her lips.

“Cool,” Naomi whispered.

“Oh, that’s right.” Mrs. Poulter leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “You’re a medium.”

“This just gets better and better,” Diana mumbled to Paxton.

“We should do it tomorrow. I’ll need a good night’s rest and a few hours beforehand to meditate. A clear mind helps open the pathways to the dead.”

“Creepy,” Paxton said.

“Super creepy,” Gavin added.

Mrs. Poulter regarded Helene for a long moment. Then she threw her hands up and shook her head. “All right. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

The servants cleared the dessert dishes and placed a shot glass in front of each of us. Naomi’s eyes went wide as her lips pushed into a small smile. My eyes shot to Mara.

“It’s a
digestif
,” Erina said, catching my look. “It’s supposed to help with digestion.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Poulter said. “It’s cognac.” She raised a brow at Lilura. “Seriously, dear woman, don’t you teach them anything?”

Lilura downed her cognac then slammed the glass on the table. “I teach them what needs to be taught.”

***

Naomi was shown her room first. She must have loved it, because she didn’t come back down after Jeffrey chaperoned her upstairs. Mara, Hunter, Gavin, and I waited in the living room with Paxton, Erina, and Diana while Chase and Helene helped Lilura to her room.

Mrs. Poulter told us we’d each be shown to our rooms as soon as they were ready. She assured us, before she announced she was going to bed, that her staff would take great care of us and bring us whatever we needed.

Paxton and Hunter sat in two leather chairs by the fireplace. Paxton sighed and pulled out a wooden box from a side table drawer. He opened the box, then pulled out a cigar and ran it under his nose. Dimples appeared when he smiled.

“You ever had one of these?” He offered it to Hunter.

Hunter took it and copied Paxton’s move of sniffing it. “No. I never actually had the time to sit back and give it a try.”

“You should totally try it.” Paxton reached in the drawer for a cigar cutter. “These are imported from Cuba. Very hard to get into the country.”

Paxton clipped the end off Hunter’s cigar, then his own, and proceeded to light them.

“Ew.” Mara wrinkled her nose.

Hunter let out a puff of smoke. “What?”

“You smoke cigars now?”

Hunter smirked. “Let’s just say I’m not afraid to try things I’m not familiar with.”

Mara narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I’m talking about cigars. What are
you
talking about?”

Mara hesitated. “Cigars.”

Paxton let out a laugh.

“And you don’t like cigars?” Hunter asked.

Mara scrunched up her nose. “They’re disgusting.”

“So is decapitating Reapers. But you’re not going to stop me from doing that either.”

Mara scoffed and went to the other side of the room.

“She’s feisty,” Paxton said.

“Isn’t she, though?” Hunter kept his eyes on Mara, the corner of his mouth turned up.

Paxton’s phone chirped. He checked the number then held it to his ear. “Hey, baby, I was just about to call you.”

Jeffrey returned, clearing his throat, and announced that Mara’s room was ready. Mara sighed and squeezed my hand as she walked passed me. I gave her a reassuring smile.

Turning to Erina, I vocalized a thought that had been nagging me. “Is Mr. Poulter a witch too?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Full-blooded and genuine.” Diana held her chin high and cocked an eyebrow.

I regarded her then turned back to Erina. “Does the staff know that you’re witches?”

She nodded. “They know what we are.”

“How do you know they won’t go blabbing to anyone?” Gavin asked.

“I guess because my aunt and uncle pay them generously enough to keep it to themselves.”

Diana scoffed. “They’re more like family, actually. They’ve been loyal for years. And my parents treat them with respect. Which is more than I can say you’ll get. From my father, anyway.”

I shook my head. “What does he have against Vila?”

“He doesn’t trust Vila. Mostly because you’ve got faery blood in you, and he believes faeries are derived from demons. Actually, if I were you, I’d sleep with one eye open tonight.” With a short chuckle, she stood from the couch and stomped out of the room.

Erina shook her head and smirked at me. “Sorry about that. It’s best to take the things Diana says with a grain of salt.”

Paxton leaned forward. “A slice of lemon and a shot of tequila don’t hurt either.”

Diana, of all people, showed me to my room. I was shocked when she volunteered. But when I thought about it, I supposed she didn’t really treat me any differently than she treated everyone else, so I didn’t take her attitude or blunt words personally.

Diana flipped on the light. “This is where you’ll be staying. It’s got a great view of the gardens out back.”

She walked over to the nightstand and pulled a red sachet out of a white basket. I thought it was just decoration until she held it up with a serious look on her face.

“This is how witches protect themselves from ill forces. The pouch is filled with elderberries, rosemary, and tarragon. They were harvested with a
boline
—a white-handled knife that has been consecrated. Then they were ground with a mortar and pestle, which balances the energies of each ingredient. We grow all our ingredients ourselves.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

“I know, right?” She put the sachet back in its place and walked over to the window. “There are marks carved into the window and door frames which also offer protection. I don’t know if it will deter Reapers, though. Guess we’ll find out.”

I studied the window. If I hadn’t been looking for it, I probably wouldn’t have noticed the carvings. I wondered how many of the rooms in the house had similar marks.

“I hope the room’s okay.” Paxton leaned against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. “If there’s anything I can do for you, I’m two doors down.”

“Paxton, lay off.” Diana shoved him as she left the room. “She’s got a boyfriend.”

Paxton laughed, looking directly at me. “Never stopped me before.”

Chase suddenly appeared in the doorway, his hands full. “Heads up. Coming through.”

“Is that a crossbow?” Paxton’s brows rose in amusement.

Chase answered by holding it up for Paxton to see. He then slipped it under my bed.

“Nice,” Paxton said. “What’s in the bag?”

“Just your common, everyday weapons.” Chase set the bag on the bed and unzipped it.

Paxton stepped into the room and watched as Chase unrolled his sleeve of daggers. Bending down to inspect them better, Paxton whistled. “Awesome collection.”

“Thanks.” Chase removed one dagger, flipped it in the air, and caught it. “This one’s from Brazil. And you wouldn’t believe the story that comes with it.”