My Tethered Soul: Volume 2 (Reaper's Rite) (31 page)

I sorted my things and packed them away. The staff had washed my clothes. They must have had some product—store-bought or home-made—that helped get blood out, because the jeans I’d worn the night Helene died were completely blood free. They’d even patched up the hole the wineglass had cut into them.

I rubbed my hand over the wound from that night. It was still sore, but the healing ointment Paxton had put on it worked wonders. I was sure it was the same concoction he’d just used on Gavin’s arm. Though the cut on my arm was still bandaged and healing, it was comforting to know we wouldn’t be going home completely broken.

After getting everything packed, I rolled my suitcase next to the door. I pulled my crossbow and quiver out from under the bed and leaned them against the suitcase.

Glad I was one step closer to leaving, I wandered over to the window. I pushed the curtain aside and took a last look at the Poulters’ garden. The fog had rolled in again. The woods at the back of the property were dark and foreboding, the dark statues like cloaked figures keeping watch.

Movement caught my eye. Someone walked past the gazebo.

I pressed my nose against the glass and strained my eyes to see who it was.

Gavin?
What was he doing out there?

I opened the window and called his name. He didn’t react, but kept walking out toward the lake. Maybe I was too far for him to hear. Then again, maybe this had something to do with a Reaper. Fear seized my heart. I turned and rushed out my door, glad I still had my shoes on.

Hunter and Paxton were talking near the back door when I opened it. I didn’t stop when they asked where I was going. Had they not seen Gavin go outside?

Fog swirled around my ankles as I ran past the gazebo. He couldn’t have been far. He wasn’t walking that fast. He must have been nearby.

His silhouette finally appeared in front of me.

“Gavin, wait.”

I sprinted up to him and placed my hand on his shoulder. He stopped but didn’t turn around. He quietly hummed a tune, almost like a lullaby.

“Gavin, what are you doing?”

Slowly, he twisted to face me, still humming.

In a flash, the tune suddenly became familiar to me. It was the same thing Mara hummed, huddled in her room, back when her Reaper was stalking her. It was the same song as the tinny melody from the music box Dad gave me. The music box that was exactly the same as one I had when I was young.

My mind played back a quick memory that had been buried in my subconscious: Mom walking into my room when I was twelve and in bed, her face pale, her eyes vacant. Her grip on my music box as she flipped it open. The way she screamed as she hurled it across the room, smashing it into the wall. Dad bursting in and grabbing her, dragging her away. The way I cried myself to sleep, wondering what was wrong with her.

I gasped, gaping at Gavin. Why was he humming that tune? His eyes were not his usual blue. They were black and unblinking, his brows drawn down in a menacing glare.

I backed away from him.

Oh, God!

Gavin’s hand clamped around my neck. I tried to scream, but it was cut off from lack of air. I scratched at his fingers and flailed, trying to push him away. He shoved me backward until I was pressed up against a tree. I reached for his face, hoping I could break the spell. He smirked. Then he pulled my neck toward him and smashed my head against the tree trunk.

I fell to the ground, woozy and unable to move. To my surprise, Gavin fell too, his eyes rolling back into his head just before he crumpled beside me. A shadow floated out of his body and morphed. The Reaper’s hands and cloak materialized, then his skeletal face and hollow eyes. He swooped down, fingers traveling over my body until he had a complete hold on me. He lifted me into his arms, his gray and ashen face twisted into an evil grin. I moaned, but he hushed me, placing his bony fingers over my eyes to close them.

I forced my eyes open. My lids were heavy, but at least I could see what was happening. The sky was red, the clouds like swirling balls of fire. The forest around me was made up of black trees and fog. Icy hands held my aching body. The Reaper, dark and silent and looming, carried me through the In-Between.

Above me, large crows circled. I thought I would be bobbing up and down with every step the Reaper took, but instead we glided through the dark forest. The full, orange moon slid out from behind the clouds of fire, shining a radiant glow on the red sky.

This was it. The Reaper was taking me to his Haunt to eat my soul.

My mind flashed back to when Mara was taken to the In-Between. She had been unconscious. Shouldn’t I have been unconscious too? Maybe, because Chase’s potion was still in my system, it kept me awake. Aware. Afraid.

I tried to move my arm, but I could only wiggle the tips of my fingers. My energy was drained. I was doomed to experience the Reaper sucking out my soul, draining me of life, possibly being conscious for every excruciating moment.

I didn’t want to die.

Gavin, Mara, please find me.

A low, echoing grown emanated from the Reaper’s chest. Had he heard my silent plea? A small ray of hope blossomed from my heart that my will still held magic. That because I willed Gavin and Mara to find me, my Vila blood could manipulate it to be. Which disturbed the Reaper.

I had nothing to lose by going with that theory. Though limp, I concentrated on my sister, Gavin, and the Blacks. We had set out to save Mara the year before; I had to believe they would set out to save me.

Come find me. He’s bringing me to his Haunt.

The Reaper’s steel-like fingers pressed into my skin, the icy flesh stinging me. No, he wasn’t happy about me using my powers. But I didn’t care. I would deal with the pain in order to save my life.

Hurry!

Pain surged through my veins. It was as if red-hot razor blades were slicing away at my insides. Everything in my vision swam before me. Bile rose in my throat. He was really pissed now. I cringed in agony, unable to muster up my magic, unable to chant, unable to do anything but ache.

I remained silent, inside and out, for what seemed like forever. The ache slowly diminished. Then something wonderful vibrated in my ears. Voices. They were coming for me.

The Reaper swiveled swiftly to look behind him, making my limp arms flail along with his movement. I strained my eyes to see if they were near, but could only see black tree trunks and rotted leaves. Still, I heard their approach, and I held on to hope.

The Reaper growled and dropped me to the ground. My shoulder burned as it twisted under me. Everything was sideways in my vision. Mara appeared, about thirty feet away, next to Chase.

Chase? But he’s still healing.

Mara held my crossbow in her hands, aiming at the Reaper.

The Reaper lifted his hand. His scythe protruded from his hand, extending until it reached its full length, the steel blade catching the orange light of the moon.

He swiped the scythe at the very moment Mara released an arrow. A shield of energy flew out from the Reaper’s scythe, the echoing wave blurring the air in front of it. The arrow hit the wave and exploded into a million pieces, and as the pieces ricocheted, they transformed into bats. Blocking out the view of the moon, the swarm of bats screeched as they dive-bombed Mara and Chase. The voices of Gavin and Hunter flowed out to me, telling everyone to take cover.

Gavin!
Was he all right?

I managed to lift my head two inches. Lilura stood in front of the crouching group. Her hands were held in the air, and her blue shield blocked the bats from touching them. The angry animals shrieked and flew off into the woods.

A thick wall of fog rose up between us and the others, climbing high to the treetops.

I gasped as the Reaper lifted me again. We swiftly moved through the trees, the cold air scraping against my skin. I longed to look past the Reaper’s cloak and past the fog to see my friends.

The cluster of trees grew denser. A creek rushed by below me. The Reaper sloshed through it, sweeping under low-hanging branches of foul-smelling trees.

I managed to turn my head in the direction we were going. Panic squeezed my heart. The dark entrance of a cave was up ahead. Could that be his Haunt?

As we approached, hissing sounds surrounded us. My mobility increased, and I was able to move my head enough to see the snakes slithering at the Reaper’s feet. Closer to the cave entrance, what appeared to be a black curtain opening turned out to be billions of spiders scampering to the sides of their web to allow the Reaper passage. He pushed through the sticky net, and some of the web clung to my face and hair.

We entered the darkness of the cave. Water—or something else—dripped onto the cave floor, echoing off the rock walls of the cavern. The air was damp and stale, almost suffocating.

Once again, I was dropped to the floor. I squeezed my eyes shut and folded myself into a ball, trying to force away the pain.

You can move, Zadie. Not a lot, but little by little. Stay positive; your friends are coming for you.

I tried to block out that little voice in my head that told me it was hard to find the cave we were in. That told me that even if they did find the cave, they would still have the Reaper to deal with. And that they might not make it before the Reaper began to feast.

I squinted when light appeared. The Reaper twisted in a slow circle, pointing his skeletal fingers at torches on the walls. Fire ignited in each torch, casting a red glow all around.

The cavern was bigger than I thought, the space about the size of a theater. Creatures crawled along the walls and floors, finding crevices in which to hide. The water I heard earlier turned out to be a leak from a mossy vine on the cavern ceiling. It dripped into a cauldron that sat in the middle of the floor.

The Reaper reached for me. I screamed in anguish as his bony hand squeezed tight around my arm and yanked me upward. Hot blood oozed from the cut in my arm, soaking my bandage.

Then suddenly a number of daggers and one arrow zoomed past. One of the daggers impaled the Reaper’s shoulder, pitching him back a foot. He dropped me and shrieked, grabbing at the stuck dagger and struggling to pull it out.

Chase, Hunter, Gavin, Mara, and Lilura charged into the Haunt.

They found me!

My first response was to sigh in relief at seeing them, but then the critters crawled out from their hiding places and crept toward them. Snakes slid quickly over the floor, darting their tongues out at my rescuers. The buzzing and humming and hissing filled the cavern, their deafening calls pushing in on my skull. I tried with all my might to move my hands to cover my ears. But every inch of my body ached.

Mara extended her hand toward the floor, and the insects were blown back by the control she had over the air element. The snakes coiled away from them, quickly seeking retreat. Beside me, the Reaper yanked the imbedded dagger from his shoulder. I prayed that Chase’s attempt to rig the weapons with syringes was successful. If we could flood the Reaper’s system with poison, we might stand a chance.

Then, to my surprise, Mrs. Poulter, Diana, Paxton, and Erina entered the cavern. The witches held hands, chanting the weakening spell. The Reaper growled and pointed at his cauldron. Fire erupted from it, lighting up the room in a flash. He made a tossing motion, and the fire leaped through the air at the Poulters. Mara and Lilura held their palms up, as if pushing the fire back. The fire curled up against an invisible shield and dissipated into black smoke.

Mara lined up an arrow and shot it. The Reaper howled as it hit him, shoving him back to fall on the floor of the Haunt. But he didn’t explode like I expected. The arrow didn’t pierce his heart. Still, he writhed in pain, clutching at the rod of the arrow. Chase’s poison had to be working its way into the Reaper’s body.

I rolled slowly to my knees, barely able to breathe when I made the movement. Mara and Gavin rushed toward me and helped me up, dragging me by my arms to Lilura, Chase, and Hunter. The Black brothers stepped forward to stand between the Reaper and me, weapons aimed.

Mrs. Poulter stepped closer to the cauldron and took out a knife. Cutting her palm, she dropped blood into the cauldron and raised her voice.

“Samael, I call upon thee, great Lord of Reapers. Hear me and make yourself present.”

The Reaper across the room yelped as he wrenched the arrow from his chest. He remained on the cavern floor, clutching his chest as black, tar-like blood oozed from his wound.

“Samael,” Mrs. Poulter shouted. “Hear me, great Lord of Reapers. Make yourself present to those who call upon you.”

A harsh wind tore through the cavern. It whipped at our hair and stung our eyes. I mustered all I had in me to raise my arm up and shield my face with my hand. The fire from the torches flared loudly. The space filled with billowing smoke, as if a bomb had gone off.

The smoke started to clear and seep out of the entrance, like it was being sucked into the night air. When the smoke was low to the ground, a figure appeared near the back of the cavern.

His tattered cloak was a dirty white, as if he’d dragged it through coal. Glowing red eyes glared at us from beneath his hood. He floated closer, appearing larger as he neared. Much larger than the Reaper who had brought me to the Haunt. Then, from behind him, enormous wings made of bones spread out, overshadowing everything in the cave.

Samael looked down at the injured Reaper. He lifted his hand, and from it, a huge sphere of fire appeared. The Reaper cried out, strings of flesh and bloody muscle stretched over the hole of its gaping mouth, as he tried to move backward along the floor. Samael hurled the ball of fire at the fallen Reaper in one fell swoop. The fireball exploded on impact, engulfing the Reaper. Flames danced around the Reaper’s writhing body, until he moved no more. He shriveled up as if he were made of black paper, eaten by the inferno.

Mara and I clung to each other.