by Liz Long
I snorted, but promised to be back within the hour. I thought of Allison’s college campus and appeared near the fountain I’d deemed “my spot.” Coming around the building, I got lucky, spotting Allison with Brady. I headed their direction and tried to appear surprised when I passed them.
“Oh hey guys, what’s up?” I asked. They pulled apart to greet me — well, Allison did. Brady more or less stood there, a blank expression on his face. He was still doing that thing where he didn’t look at me, but the more I’d thought about it, the more I figured that was deliberate. Even if he didn’t suspect me, he couldn’t afford a flash of his purple eyes giving him away to anyone.
“Headed to the last class of the day, actually,” Allison said. “Big test today.”
“You’re ready for it, you’ve been studying your cute butt off for two weeks,” Brady said, giving her a pat on the rear.
I bit back the older-sister-comment that sprang to my lips, not wanting to embarrass Allison or weird them out.
Ally stood on her toes to kiss Brady goodbye. With a short wave to me, she went to class. That left me standing there with Brady. I began walking casually; he followed suit, apparently needing to head the same direction. I decided to stick with it and see if I could get anything out of him.
“What are you majoring in again?” he asked me. Even as he asked, his eyes went down to his phone to check the time.
I blanked, unsure of what I was supposed to be studying. “Uhh, I’m still undecided. Like we discussed the other night.”
“Oh ok,” Brady said, coming up short on conversation. “I didn’t choose my major until last year, you’re not alone.”
Brady slowed his pace, probably about to head to his own class. We paused near the entrance of the science building. I averted my eyes from the spot where Brittany Green had fallen to her death. Someone had worked hard to get the bloodstains out of the concrete.
Wandering students slipped through the door, rushing so as not to be counted tardy. Soon we were the only ones outside. Still Brady stuck around and I wondered what he was up to. I decided to jump right in; how else would I get his attention?
“Did you have fun the other night on our double date?” I tried to keep my voice light and teasing.
“Sure I did,” Brady said, his expression turning serious, “and you really made an impression on Matt.”
“He made one on me too,” I responded with a smile. “He’s great.”
“Sure he is,” Brady said, lowering his voice, “but I don’t think he’s really your type, Reaper.”
I recoiled, instinct screaming at me. I tried to sound though I hadn’t heard him. “Well, I think it’s time I get to class…”
“Which one is that? Saving Souls 101?”
The malicious grin that spread across his face put a ball of fear in my gut. He grabbed my arm; I spun away from him, thinking of somewhere safe near Tessa’s place and stepped forward. Brady’s grip tightened, however, and rather than appearing somewhere else, I went nowhere at all. He roughly pulled me back into him; we grappled, but Brady was too strong for me. I looked at him in astonishment and he smiled back. We were the only ones out here; no one could see his attack. The ball of fear grew.
“I’m sure you’re wondering,” he whispered as he grabbed my hair, “what sort of power I have over you.”
“It crossed my mind,” I said through gritted teeth, ignoring the uncomfortable pull on my scalp.
Brady’s lips came to my ear, his pronunciation precise. “When your mother is a witch, you learn all sorts of things that aren’t taught in school.”
The pressure on my head stopped as he held his free hand up so that I could see better. On the entirety of his pale palm was a terrible scar. How had I missed that at dinner? A symbol had been carved into his skin for what I guessed to be some sort of black magic. I’d never seen this symbol before, with its peculiar swirl and dotted interior. I took it in, memorizing every detail for Tessa.
Brady wrapped his arm around my torso. “You’re coming with me. And believe me when I say my magic is all over the room; there’s no escape for you.”
He squeezed hard, my ribs feeling as though they could crack. The world swam before my eyes; then we were standing in a damp, underground tunnel. I managed a look around, but only made out two dark hallways on either side of us. Enough yellow light flickered to see the paths, but gave no indication of where we were or more importantly, how to get out.
“Your witch will need more than luck to find you down here,” he said, breath still hot in my ear. I heard the smile in his voice.
“Get your damn hands off me!” I shouted. My plea bounced off the tunnels, mocked me as it echoed down the way.
He released his crushing grip on me, though kept his hand lightly on my arm. Despite my attempt to shrug it off, he kept it steady.
“Ah, ah,” he said knowingly, “my magic is good, but why risk such a great meal ticket? Stay in line and no one gets hurt.”
I wrinkled my nose, keeping count of how many steps we took as we walked. I’d seen the hero do it once in a movie and thought that might come in handy if I really couldn’t zap my way out of here. I took a deep breath as I began what could be the longest walk of my undead life.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
We turned left and right down various tunnels, so dark and maze-like that I had no idea where we were or how I’d escape. I lost count of the steps somewhere around 75. Brady had loose lips and I was keen to hear what he had to say.
“So then Allison told the drunk dude if he kept picking on the handicapped kid, he could answer to her. The guy called her a bitch and she broke her middle finger punching him in the nose,” Brady said.
“No way! That sounds exactly like something she’d do!” I exclaimed. A snicker escaped me before I could stop myself.
I couldn’t help myself when he offered up information about my sister’s life. Sure, he was probably baiting me with distraction, but I wanted to know everything, to soak up every detail and know she was happy. I didn’t want my death to hold her back in any way. Brady had technically been dating her for a while, so he had some stories.
A smile flickered on Brady’s face. Sensing his human side, I took a shot in the dark.
“Where are we anyway?”
Brady smiled at that, though it was more sinister than I’d prefer. “You like it? This is where BAD used to hang out before they became a joke.”
I couldn’t let him know that Matt had revealed information. No way would I bring him into this, too. I feigned ignorance. “The secret society? What are they doing hiding in sewers? I thought they were a big deal on campus.”
“Used to be, back when they had balls,” Brady mumbled, sidestepping a puddle.
“Are you a member?”
“I’m bound by oath not to answer, but I suppose I’m breaking a lot of rules tonight,” he said, smirking.
I scoffed. “Riddle me not, frat boy. What’s so special about your undercover brothers?”
“Careful, that’s your new boyfriend Matt you’re talking about,” he said.
I froze at his words and he impatiently tugged me along. The question left my lips without my permission. I hated the fear in it.
“Is…is he a witch, too?”
“Boy, you’ve got it bad for the living, don’t you?” Brady said, smirking. He surprised me when he shook his head. “No, he’s a human. He doesn’t know the real history of BAD.”
“And if he did?”
“What’s it matter?” he asked, giving me a long look. He smiled a bit. “Oh, I see, you want him to be a decent guy? Well, congrats, he’s got a clean record. You know you can’t actually date him, though, right? On account of your being dead and all.”
I resisted the urge to stomp on his foot. “Why are you doing this?”
Discomfort flashed across his face, the first time I’d seen him hesitate. It was gone a split second later, replaced with his typical cocky attitude. “I’ve waited years to g
et what I want.”
“And what’s that?”
He shrugged. “Power. Fortune.”
“You’re going to all this trouble for cash?”
“It’s not about money,” he said, his upper lip curling into a snarl. “You have no idea what it’s like, being a half-anything. Half the power, half the respect. I deserve so much more.”
“You know what the term ‘deserve’ means, right? You have to earn that, both in the human and supe world.”
His grip tightened on my arm. “Oh, I will, once I get my full powers and they see what I can do.”
“How do you get that by killing me?” I asked skeptically.
“I don’t,” he said, dropping to a whisper, “but the guy I work for can give it to me, once I deliver you.”
I rolled my eyes. “That is so cliche.”
His grip on my arm tightened. “We’ll see if you’re singing the same tune once you see this guy’s magic weapon.”
His serious tone made me pause again. “Brady, what about Allison?”
“Don’t talk about her.”
He shook me and I stumbled, stubbing my toe on a stone step. I caught myself on the wall. Stone scraped my palm, full of earth and magic. More light glowed and I realized we were almost wherever he was taking me. Alarm bells went off in my head.
“Why would you involve Allison in this?”
“I do not care for Allison. She’s a human caught in the crossfire,” he said. The flat tone might’ve convinced another, but I’d seen the spark at her name. “Collateral damage.”
“I don’t believe you. Call it a big sister thing,” I said, hearing the desperation in my voice, “you can act tough all you want, but your human is showing.”
He snarled at me, grabbing me by the throat. “You have it all wrong, you stupid Made. You’re what we needed. It’s why I chose Alison. I’ve been waiting for you.”
I waited for him to choke me; rather than squeezing, however, he met my hard gaze and whispered through tight lips, “I won’t let anyone take her soul.”
He let go of my neck and grabbed my arm again, breaking into a fast walk. He half-dragged me, saying nothing more as we stepped into the main arena.
We went through the small arched doorway, stopping at the top of a staircase. It overlooked a large area where some seriously bad juju was going on.
Brady’s strange magical swirls covered the walls and floors. Presumably trapped, six Reapers were laid out three in a row, a good bit of space between them. I didn’t know any of them, but somewhere in there were Roslyn, Michael, and Samuel. In between and around those spaces were souls. Wispy and faint, they flickered where they stood, like corralled cattle waiting for slaughter. I gasped at the amount of lost souls, my very being begging me to go and help them.
Brady gave me a knowing smile. “Go ahead. See if you’re any different.”
He let go of my arm and I realized I couldn’t teleport down to them. Ignoring that major problem, I bolted down the stairs two at a time. I didn’t know what they were doing here, but they were all in imperative danger if there were demons around. Demons consumed souls and I didn’t even want to think about how awful that must be in someone’s last moments.
I ran down to the floor, ignoring my surroundings and instead going straight to the nearest soul. He had been a younger man, maybe in his early thirties, and the desperation in his face made me reach for him.
“Save me,” he hissed under his breath. “Please, I…I didn’t want any of this.”
“Give me your hand,” I said, ready to help these souls move on.
He held out his arm and I froze when I saw it: a Reaper’s mark. When we couldn’t immediately convince a soul to pass over, we branded them with our mark, a red handprint that looked like a nasty burn. It held us responsible for them. If they refused, we could move on to other souls who needed us. The mark worked as a tracking device to find the stubborn souls later and try to convince them to move on. After three tries, the Reaper’s mark faded and that soul would become a spirit; entwined with this earth, his destiny changed to instead wander a world they could no longer live in. The problem was, once a soul was claimed, it was that Reaper’s responsibility until it was too late.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered, “I can’t help you. It’s impossible.”
This guy’s mark wasn’t the usual bright red, but more a pale pink. He would be a spirit soon, stuck down in this dank underground for the rest of eternity - unless a demon damned him. Panic showed in his eyes; maybe he didn’t know what would happen to him, but he seemed to know time was running out.
My head whipped to look at the other souls who stood with us, at the Reaper marks on their arms. With handprints on all their forearms, I couldn’t help any of them pass over. Most were newer, though I saw a few stricken expressions in the back. They didn’t even bother to show me their arms as they were spirits now. No hope lit from within; they knew their souls were damned. My heart broke for them. I turned on my heel to watch Brady chuckle as he walked down the stairs.
“They’re all claimed,” I said softly.
“Yep. Stuck in the in-between until their spirit is rooted or their Reaper helps them pass over,” he said, coming to a halt at the bottom of the steps. “Whichever comes first, but in this case, there are special circumstances.”
My eyes narrowed. “So what, you’ve got an abundance of demon snacks in your man cave?”
A few souls behind me gasped and shot worried looks at one another. I grimaced; maybe hinting at their death by dinner wasn’t a great idea.
Brady laughed as he walked over to me. “They’re not really what I’d call edible after about a week, and baby, these guys have been here longer than that.”
“Ew, stop that,” I said, my nose wrinkling. My sister’s boyfriend, never mind a crazed half-witch, was never allowed pet names. Then what he said clicked in my brain. “So what do you keep them around for?”
A voice above us caused me to turn and look up, to a shadow on the stairway. “They’re for my Ascension, you worthless Made.”
I gasped at the dark shape towering over us on the staircase. His face came into light and my stomach dropped. Alistair, Tully’s mentor and an elder Reaper, glared at me from above.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“What the hell, dude?” I blurted out.
“So eloquent,” Alistair replied. He glided down the stairs, golden eyes never leaving me.
“You—but why?” I stammered.
Brady placed his black-magic-covered hand back on my arm. Alistair walked over to us; when he neared, he gave the lost souls behind me a fond smile, like adopted kids he’d scooped up from the street. I could hardly believe the rather human expression. When he met my face, however, the pretense dropped, replaced with an ugly frown.
“I can’t believe Tully recruited you,” he said, disgusted.
Offended, I made a face at him. “Geez, what’d I do to you?”
He pointed a long finger at me. “There, that’s it.”
“My face?” My jaw dropped at the rudeness and he huffed.
“At the humanity, the emotions, those damned teenager expressions that infuriate parents and elders alike. The sarcasm that has befallen your culture in the last millennia is atrocious.”
I shrugged Brady’s hand off my arm. “You know, you sound like everybody’s grandpa. Maybe change is a good thing. Ever think of that?”
Alistair leaned over me, his overly large nose almost touching my forehead. “I happen to agree with you there.”
His rich baritone filled my ears and I swallowed a bark of laughter. I’d never met a villain, but this guy was as close to one as I ever saw in the movies. I blinked hard, willing myself to stay in the present threat.
“Meaning?”
Alistair snapped up, his posture stiff straight. “Meaning a change is just the thing I need for the rest of eternity.”
“Worst guessing game ever,” I muttered, “Jesus Christ—”
&nbs
p; “Don’t say his name!” Alistair yelled at me, so suddenly I almost bit my tongue in surprise.
“Is it like Bloody Mary where you say his name three times and he appears? You think he’d help me out of this bind?” I said.
Alistair backhanded me, a blow that left my ears ringing. Pain seared through my face and I wondered if he’d broken my jaw or cracked a cheekbone. I hadn’t felt such hurt since dying; the realization frightened me and his face lit up with understanding.
“You didn’t know,” he said, his smile growing bigger, “you didn’t know we could feel true pain. Tully failed to tell you that part, eh?”
“Tully never expected me to get Reaper-napped,” I mumbled, struggling to focus back on the jerk in front of me.
“He probably pretended you were his daughter and decided he was acting out of love,” Alistair said, sneering. “His human emotions always made him weak. All Mades are weak.”
“I highly doubt Tully would treat his daughter the way he demands of me,” I said. I shoved Brady’s hand away. “Could you stop touching me now? I’m clearly not going anywhere.”
Brady huffed but dropped his arm, rolling his weight to either foot to give me a little space. I turned back to Alistair and got down to business. Enough of his Family Feud mind games.
“This is how certain Mades were taken, isn’t it? You already know everything about us, our families. You practically had a shopping list of prime Mades who would be willing to do anything to save their living blood.”
He said nothing, but I knew I was right. Alistair had chosen us for a reason, knew it would be easy to convince us to fall under his spell if it meant keeping our mothers and sisters alive. I threw out another question.
“What’s the deal with all these souls? Why are you keeping them down here if you’ve got Reapers?”
“Every piece has its purpose,” Alistair said. “Now that you’re here, we can begin. The rest will fall into place.”
