The Haunting (22 page)

“…fucked,” Joel finished for her.

“Yeah, thanks.” Phoebe made a face at him. “It was never mutual,” she said to me. “All those years I thought he liked me more than the other girls. I thought that was why he never dated blondes.”

Not once had I ever put those pieces together, but it made sense.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked her.

“Because he said someone else’s name.”

I glanced at both of them. Neither made eye contact with me. Joel seemed to catch it too. He started pointing at me and speaking to Phoebe.

“While you were fucking, he said whose name?”

Phoebe and Read both looked away.

“You’re kidding me,” I said.

“It was embarrassing,” Phoebe said. I tried to get either of them to look at me, but it wasn’t happening.

Phoebe said, “We agreed not to tell anyone about it.” Even as she said the words, I could see the regret.

“Then I found him with another girl.”

I decided to pretend I wasn’t there.

Claire looked up at Read and said, “You’re kind of a prick.”

“Yup,” he said, deflated. “I didn’t know she felt that way until, well…” He motioned to Phoebe below. “Until now. And for the record, Nora, I don’t think of you that way.”

“Uh huh,” Joel said, sounding calm. “Anyway, we should find a way to get him down.”

He was right. This was enough drama for now. I flipped the rough stone from hand to hand, thinking it over for a moment.

“What if you go down to the end of the hall here and see if you can see one?” I asked Joel specifically.

He glared. I smiled.

“Yeah,” Claire agreed. “I’ll go with you. We won’t be out of anyone’s sight and Read won’t be alone.”

Before he could argue, Claire hurried ahead.

Joel rumbled a curse as he quickened his step to catch up with her.

I watched them while Phoebe kept her head tilted up towards Read. “What happened to you?” she asked.

With his face still peering over the edge, he answered, “I was bit.”

I remembered fake-Read on the train. He had been bitten by one of the Reaper-children. Could it have somehow reflected what had happened to the real Read? “Was it a little girl?” I asked.

Catching on instantly, Phoebe called, “Did she have silver eyes?”

His face slackened. “How’d you know?”

Phoebe and I exchanged knowing looks before focusing back on Read.

Phoebe flashed a barbaric smile. “We’ve had the pleasure of meeting her.”

I glanced down the hallway of shelving and realized Claire and Joel were gone.

Cursing under my breath, I moved to go after them.

“Wait a second.” Phoebe touched my arm.

Phoebe must have seen her before I had. The familiar voice had the same effect as nails down a chalkboard.

“Hello, friends. My children grow restless. Shall we play?”

Gretchen stood a few feet behind us, tiny and lonely between towering industrial shelving. Her eyes glistened their metallic color, and her plastic grin was sewn in place.

She held her hand out, palm up. In it, the ring still sparkled. “Looking for me?” she asked sweetly.

Before I could answer, Phoebe snapped, “Not really.”

I tilted my chin up to look at Read.

He’d shrunk back and peeked over the edge.

“Did you know baring one’s throat is a sign of respect to my people?” Gretchen asked me, eyes glinting in the dim warehouse light.

I started to argue that I was looking up, not baring my throat, but realized that Gretchen hadn’t noticed Read.

Flexing my fingers around the rough stone in my fist, I tried to mentally prepare myself. The Reaper who had attacked fake-Read earlier had been fast, so fast that Gretchen could have stolen the cleaver and hit Cody. Everything was such a blur in my hazy memory, I couldn’t be sure.

“What do you want?” I asked.

Gretchen’s lips stretched in a smug smile, but she didn’t answer.

“You know what I think?” Phoebe said in her damaging, condescending tone. “I think that you’re a sad and lonely bitch who has nothing better to do than—”

Gretchen was on Phoebe before anyone could move.

The little Reaper had leapt into the air, slamming into Phoebe with enough force to throw her backwards.

Phoebe slid on the concrete floor a foot on her backside before Gretchen towered over her, still smiling. “Time for you to know who your betters are,” she said. Raising a fist, she plunged her weight down into the punch, colliding with Phoebe’s cheek.

I screamed, hoping to distract her, hoping one hit wouldn’t cave in Phoebe’s skull.

I didn’t even have time to run for Gretchen. It would have been too late.

As I screamed I felt the balled-up energy burst. It didn’t have time to heat up like it had with the Ona, but it was raw. Pain prickled through my fingertips and toes and arched through my skull. The power of the sharp stab dropped me. My knees cracked onto the concrete, and I felt only partially aware of what direction I faced.

Though I wasn’t able to push Gretchen away from Phoebe, I had stopped her.

She paused, silvery eyes rolling back to see me. “That must have hurt,” she said plainly. “You’re not very in control with all this, are you?” she stated as she stepped around Phoebe, aiming at me.

I recoiled. My skin prickled with sensitivities. It reminded me of a fever.

As Gretchen approached, I could feel heat radiating off of her, an intense heat that caused me to back away.

“Do you feel my power?”

Was that what that was?

“Neive felt it right away, but you didn’t. Had to wait until you were nearly burned out,” she noted, hardly masking her confusion. “Hm.” She gave a shrug. “Do you even know what you tried to do?”

I shook my head, which ricocheted pain inside my skull. The throbbing began to ebb, and my fingertips and toes felt numb to the touch.

“You tried to force me out of the Grave. That’s a big feat for one with so much human blood in their veins. Must be the witch’s influence. Unfortunately, you had no idea how to do it.” Gretchen clucked her tongue and raised her fist again. This time, Phoebe wouldn’t be the recipient. It would be me.

I swung my hand that clutched the enclosed stone up, but Gretchen easily stopped it and flung the stone out of my hand without even touching me.

I heard it clatter behind me on the concrete and felt my heart skip with it.

I closed my eyes, preparing for the worst.

Phoebe was still struggling to her feet. She wouldn’t make it in time.

My breath came slow. One, two, three breaths and I still waited.

“But I can.” Neive’s voice made me open my eyes.

Neive stood in the same dark clothing I had seen her in before. She didn’t glance at Phoebe, who hit the shelving behind her to back away.

Read stayed half hidden above.

Neive stepped closer, her expression remaining unreadable. “The rules were clear. You cannot touch her,” she said.

“
Your
rule. It isn’t in the big contract, I’ll have you know,” Gretchen retorted with a sneer.

Neive nodded. “True, but I could make it so.”

“Not before I beat this useless thing into a bloody pulp.”

Neive propped her hands onto her hips and said without pleasure, “Damien wouldn’t like that.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened, and she stared at me, her expression trying to tell me something that I wasn’t reading well. I shook my head at her, still dizzy, my ears ringing.

Gretchen clenched her jaw, muscles that shouldn’t have been there twitching in her face. “I could kill you both.”

For the first time, I noticed a shadow of a smile on my sister. “No, you couldn’t.”

I felt a force that I couldn’t see. It was as sharp as a blade, and it was slicing skin.

I scrambled to my feet, fighting the plaguing dizziness. I grabbed a shelf for support, trying to get away from the spinning.

The heat I felt between the two of them was scalding.

Phoebe yanked me to the side and further away, sending my head into a tailspin.

No longer able to keep my balance, I fell to the floor, my arm still in her grasp.

I heard Neive shout just as Gretchen dove at her.

Neive dodged, moving with an agile speed that wasn’t inhuman but was much faster than I could have ever moved.

Fingers outstretched, Gretchen clawed at her while in mid-air.

Neive was out of her reach by the time she landed, bare feet slapping on concrete.

“Stop slowing my movements,” Gretchen accused Neive.

Neive only smirked. “Stop being a baby.”

Somewhere further away, I heard a rumbling sound. Before I could listen, Gretchen’s child-like voice screeched wild, indistinguishable words. Speaking in a language that I couldn’t recognize, Gretchen and Neive yelled at each other.

To my surprise, Neive seemed quite fluent. She held her ground, her face twisting with some of the difficult-sounding words.

It was a gargling language, where it sounded as if Neive were trying to hock a loogie.

Gretchen said something, and Neive looked surprised. She snapped her teeth together, hard, and flung an arm out at Gretchen.

I felt the fiery energy that accompanied it and realized I should be building up the heaviness I felt in my stomach. Swallowing back bile, I tried to concentrate. I thought about the warmth I had felt and tried to imagine it rolling together, like an avalanche.

The energy Neive flung at Gretchen sent the Reaper sailing.

Her back hit one of the shelves behind her, arching her like a bow before she fell hard to the concrete. Sprawled on the floor, she shook her head, still alive and conscious but disoriented.

Phoebe released me, and I saw the rock she must have been holding streak through the air. It hit Gretchen’s kneecap with a thud, causing the Reaper to hiss and sit up.

The heat wasn’t building in my stomach as I’d hoped. I tried closing my eyes to concentrate. Maybe all the distractions were slowing me down. With my eyes closed, the world spun.

Nothing.

I couldn’t bring the heavy ball into my stomach. I tried to form it again and again. Each attempt was as useless as the last. Gretchen had said I was nearly burned out. Could this be my peak?

I opened my eyes. If I couldn’t do it, then I needed to help Neive in other ways.

Gretchen was on her feet and flying in a blur.

Neive swept her arm to the side as if to knock Gretchen out of the air.

But the Reaper girl was too quick. She latched onto Neive’s arm, teeth sinking into soft flesh.

The overpowering heat forced me to squint. I tried to shield myself with my hand. With Phoebe’s help to stand, we simultaneously bolted for Gretchen.

I could hear Read shouting overhead but didn’t look up as I wrapped my arms around Gretchen’s waif-like waist. I could feel the protruding bones of her hips digging into my arms when I pulled.

Neive shrieked, high-pitched and agonized.

I could feel the heat building from Neive. It was hotter than Gretchen’s had been, but I ignored the burning sensation and squeezed Gretchen tighter.

Phoebe used a rock, probably the one I had dropped earlier, to club the grey Reaper on the top of her head. If Reapers bled, this one didn’t. Skin cracked and flaked away from white pristine bone, but there was no blood.

Despite the blow, Gretchen held on, though she didn’t appear as confident as before. Her teeth bit down hard, and she shook her head like a dog with a bone.

Neive screamed when I heard the distinctive
crack
. My stomach flexed at the sound when I realized it was Neive’s arm.

Upon the break, the hot energy erupted from Neive, disastrously hot.

It felt as if my skin were flaying back, exposing raw muscle.

My face, which was nearest, caught the brunt of her energy.

Just when I thought nothing new could surprise me, a body landed onto our group from above, taking Neive and Phoebe down.

Read had jumped. He had managed to elbow Gretchen in the shoulder, but also one wild hand caught me in the side of the head.

Tumbling back with the Reaper, my head spinning from the blow and my skin aflame from all the energies, I landed on my back with Gretchen on top of me. I hit the concrete floor and ducked my head, neck stiffening before it could crack back. The impact knocked air from my chest in a
whoosh
.

Opening my mouth for a breath, I realized I couldn’t get any. Panicked, I squeezed onto Gretchen harder.

Tiny, razor fingers scratched at my arms.

Ignoring the sting, I turned onto my side. I took Gretchen with me, rolling over her so that I pinned her onto the concrete floor.

That was when I heard the engine rumbling.

I looked up in time to see the forklift.

It was large enough that both Claire and Joel could fit in the cab. A cage and two long tines were the only thing separating them from us. It bore down on Gretchen and me at top speed.

Gasping, I stood up on rubbery legs and flung myself to the side.

I almost made it.

My right arm hit the steel edge of the cab, pain streaking up through my bones as I stumbled into the lowest shelf. Boxes on the shelf shifted instead of falling straight back, cushioning my impact.

I heard the thump and the churning of wheels as the forklift ran over the Reaper.

I turned around just as Joel stopped the machine over top of Gretchen, hiding her from view.

Neive gestured frantically at Joel to back up. Blood coated her arm like a second skin, dripping onto the concrete floor.

He hesitated, not quite certain what to do. He’d never seen Neive before. None of them had.

I realized Phoebe kept her distance from the dark-haired girl as well. She drew closer to me, Read at her heels. Phoebe’s green eyes hardly strayed from the newcomer, even as she asked if I was alright.

“Back up!” I shouted at Joel.

Joel’s dark eyes met mine, defiance dancing in them for a brief second.

Maybe part of him must have known he could trust me, but taking orders from me? Joel wasn’t very good at taking orders anyway—well, any orders that didn’t come from his football coach.

To my relief, he backed it up while Neive stalked toward the forklift as it wobbled back over the Reaper. She knelt beside the broken body, examining it closely.

I inched closer to her, hearing Phoebe growl a warning at me to stop.

“Neive?” I asked.

She didn’t lift her head to acknowledge me. Instead, she said, “Reapers can’t keep their heads on their bodies. They’ll be able to regenerate.” Kneeling next to Gretchen, I could see the body was torn and tattered, but there was still no blood.

Skin flopped back, revealing the skull, hair folded beneath the torn flap. Her left leg was twisted at an impossible angle. Gretchen didn’t move as Neive reached behind her and pulled a shiny silver dagger from a black sheath. It had blended right into her dark pants; I hadn’t noticed it there before.

Neive lowered it to Gretchen’s throat and proceeded to saw through the bloodless throat. At first I didn’t think I could watch, but for Cody, I would.