by Lisa Medley
A commotion at the back door caught her attention, and she rose to see what was going on. The others were leaving the house in a group.
“Hey, Olivia,” Ruth said as she headed for the Lincoln.
“Where’s Kylen?” Deacon asked, holding the back door open for Ruth.
“He’s around the front of the house,” Olivia answered, keeping her answer purposely vague. She wasn’t at all sure they’d approve of her scythe lessons.
“How are you feeling today, Olivia?” Nate asked.
“Great. Better than I have in a long time.” She smiled at him as he slid behind the wheel.
Kylen walked around the side of the house, the pumpkins from the front porch stacked in his arms. Deacon gave him a puzzled look, but didn’t ask for an explanation. Kylen didn’t offer one.
“We’re taking Ruth to Meridian for a checkup. I have no idea when we’ll be back. You got this, Kylen?”
“Yes.”
Deacon looked from Kylen to Olivia. He shut Ruth’s door and walked around to the back passenger door. “We’ll see you later tonight?”
“I guess that depends on Olivia’s business.”
“Really?” He shook his head in obvious frustration. “Keep your head.”
Olivia watched as they drove off, leaving her alone with Kylen once again.
* * *
“Planning to make a pie?” Olivia asked, amused.
“You’re going to practice on these since we don’t have any demons handy.”
Olivia frowned at him. Demons. Kylen had saved her from one. She knew that now. He was a hunter, or at least that was what Ruth had told her. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea, and she had no clue how she’d recognize a demon if she saw one. Obviously, she hadn’t identified the one in the alley.
Kylen walked around the back of the garage and returned with an armful of logs. Taking meticulous care, he placed them upright around the fire pit, positioning a pumpkin on top of each of the ten perches.
Once he was satisfied with the setup, he walked to his trailer and returned with the scythe he’d shown her earlier. Kylen drew it from the scabbard and presented it to her. “Hold it. Carefully.”
Olivia took it with both hands. It was heavier than it looked. Her right hand grasped the smooth grip, just below the engravings, as her left cradled the folded blade. She held it before her like she would a lovely but poisonous snake.
“Not that carefully.” Kylen moved behind her, enclosing her scythe-hand in his. Blue sparks sizzled as skin touched skin.
He adjusted her grip on the blade, holding her tightly to his chest as he helped her find the correct balance with the weapon. “Loosen up,” he demanded.
Olivia laughed. “Maybe I would if you didn’t have me trapped in a bear hug.”
Kylen gave her a little more space, but he kept his right hand firmly wrapped over hers, helping her hold the blade with one hand. “To open the blade, flick your wrist. Hard. Like you mean it. When you hear the click, it’s locked in place, and you can swing it.”
“Show me,” Olivia said.
Kylen took the scythe from her and backed away. In one fluid motion, he flicked open the blade, brought it even with his shoulder, and then slashed the first pumpkin in half horizontally. The top half lifted slightly before falling back into place on the bottom half. Not even a seed spilled out, and a hairline cut sliced completely through the pumpkin.
Olivia clapped and laughed. “Amazing!”
Kylen rolled his eyes upward and folded the blade shut again. “Your turn.”
After taking hold of the blade, Olivia made an attempt to flick it open. The scythe flew from her grasp, hitting the ground behind her with a clatter. “Sorry! Let me try again.”
She picked up the blade and held it in her hand again. Flexing her wrist, she tried to determine the appropriate amount of force to exert. Satisfied with her calculations, she folded the weapon in against her chest. Using her elbow as a hinge, she extended the blade in a swift forward motion. Sure enough, the blade unfolded and locked into place.
Taking a step toward the next pumpkin, she swung the scythe back and then slashed through the pumpkin with such force that the scythe nearly sliced through her leg upon its exit. She spun with the momentum of the stroke.
The top half of the pumpkin glided off its bottom half in slow motion, sliding to the ground with a wet splat.
Olivia couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Well?”
“Adequate. Again. Try not to cut your leg off this time.”
Olivia closed the blade, advanced on the next pumpkin in the ring and repeated the process, this time without the ballerina moves on the follow-through. She glanced back at Kylen for approval.
“Next,” he instructed.
She narrowed her eyes at him before snapping the blade shut and shuffling to the next pumpkin. As she lined up to take on the fifth pumpkin, Kylen stayed her hand and took the blade from her. “Let’s try something a little more difficult.”
He took the volleyball-sized pumpkin from the log and backed away from her. Holding the pumpkin in his left hand and the scythe in his right, he tossed the gourd into the air, flicked open his blade, and sliced through it midair. It split in half—its entrails leaking out as it tumbled to the ground.
Cocking his head to the side, he handed her the blade and retrieved the next pumpkin. “I’ll toss. You slice.”
Nervous that she might lop off one of his appendages, she backed away from him. He tossed the pumpkin high into the air, giving her plenty of time to open the blade and bring it slashing back through the projectile before it smashed to the ground.
“Huh,” he said, a hint of a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
So close to a smile, yet so far from it!
She couldn’t slap the smile off her own face. She couldn’t believe she’d hit the pumpkin like that on the first go. It was very…satisfying.
“More!”
Olivia sliced and diced the next five pumpkins midair. She didn’t miss once.
“Nice,” Kylen complimented.
Olivia felt her cheeks redden as the warmth of that small compliment filled her from head to toe. She was happy she’d pleased him and impressed with herself for accomplishing such a bizarre task. “Another one bites the dust. Number 56 is history!”
Kylen frowned and gathered up the pumpkin carnage, piling it into the center of the fire pit. The remains would probably be scavenged by raccoons—or perhaps the cats she’d seen in the woods—by nightfall.
It was only a quarter to ten but her stomach growled again loudly. Kylen heard it and whipped around to look at her. “You’re hungry?”
“Guess so! I’ve been eating way more over the past couple of days than I have in months.”
“Good. I know a place. We’ll eat first, and then…” He walked over to the spigot by the back of the house and starting cleaning his scythe.
“Then you’ll help me work on my list. Right?”
He dried and buffed the blade before folding it and sliding the weapon into the concealed scabbard on his back. “Right,” he mumbled unenthusiastically.
Olivia walked toward the Honda.
“Where are you going?” Kylen asked.
“Aren’t we ready to go?”
“Yes, but we aren’t traveling that way.”
Confused, she stopped. “What do you mean?”
“Come inside, we’re going the easy way…maybe.”
She followed him into the house, and then into the living room. When he was standing on the strange markings that were burned into the floor, he reached for her hand. A jolt flashed through her as she took it and allowed him to pull her in next to him.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and energy crackled up her spine where their bodies touched. Leaning in, he said, “If this works, we’ll be there in a few seconds. If not, I’ll come back to get you, and we’ll take the Honda.”
“If what works?” she asked,
as the room began to shimmer and spin around her. Her stomach lurched, and for a moment she thought she was going to be ill. It was like they were on a crazy amusement park ride, but everything was speeding by so fast it was a blur. Her head swam far worse than after the second glass of wine last night.
When her world stopped spinning, she found herself standing inside an elaborate stone crypt, still locked in the grip of Kylen’s arms. Her legs crumbled beneath her, and she was sure she was about to pass out when Kylen’s blue energy began to seep into her through his hands, which were clutching her back. The warm light raced through her, restoring her to her senses.
As her head swooned back, she drew in a gasping breath, making eye contact with Kylen. He pulled her to her feet again and took a step back, energy still flowing between them.
“How did you do that?” she asked, relieved by how much better she felt.
“The travel or the energy?”
“Both.”
“Let’s go eat, and I’ll tell you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
He took her hand and led her from the crypt into the most beautiful cemetery she’d ever seen. Century-old oak and maple trees created a shady canopy, and the grass was clipped low to the ground, edged to perfection around each marker. A variety of stones and markers were arranged in neat grids across the grounds. In fact, it really seemed much more like a park than a cemetery. Stone benches were scattered throughout, too, and there was even a picnic table under a gazebo in the center of the grounds.
They left the cemetery and walked in silence, Kylen leading her several blocks down the busy main street in Meridian. White-collar workers hustled across the sidewalks in their shiny shoes and crisp suits, in and out of office buildings surrounding the bustling historic town square.
Kylen pulled her down a narrow alley, darkened by the height of the buildings that surrounded it. He stopped at a heavy wooden door and pulled her into a tavern advertising Stag beer above it. As lunch destinations went, this would not have been her first choice. She’d visited several lovely bistros in the area for her “Food & Cuisine” column. Gilardis or The Aviary would have been delightful, although she had trouble picturing Kylen sitting at one of those tiny round tables eating a cannoli or crepe.
After surveying the bar, filled with just a few hardcore patrons scattered throughout, Kylen led her to a booth against the back wall. Motioning for her to sit across from him, he took a seat that put his back against the wall and gave him a full view of the one visible door. A busty waitress sashayed over with two glasses of water, ready to take their orders. Kylen ordered for them both without making eye contact with the waitress: two cheeseburgers, a basket of fries and a beer for himself.
“You got it, sugar,” she said. “You’re here awful early today. We usually don’t see you until the wee hours.”
Kylen ignored her, and she left to turn in their order.
“A friend of yours?” Olivia asked.
“No.”
“Well, I would hope not. You were very rude to her.”
Kylen grunted and leaned back in the booth, stretching out his legs under the table and crossing his arms over his chest in an I-am-relaxed-but-don’t-mess-with-me pose.
Unintimidated, Olivia continued, “I need some answers, Kylen. Ruth told me a lot, but it’s so different to have actually experienced it.… I still don’t get how you zapped us to the cemetery. And more importantly, why every time you touch me you shock the crap out of me…in a good kind of way,” she added shyly.
“We’re not human, Olivia. Not entirely. We can travel through the equivalent of a subway from consecrated ground to consecrated ground. Most supernatural entities can move this way. Some have more restrictions, some have less. Demons and the minions of Hell move through different portals. Deacon and Nate don’t even need to enter the subway through consecrated ground. They can access it from anywhere.”
“That’s amazing! How is it that no one knows about this? Humans, I mean. And how come you can take me with you?”
“Humans can’t see most aspects of Heaven or Hell. You can imagine the problems it would cause if they could. Reapers can see…everything.”
“And me? How is it I can travel with you? Can you take anyone? Anything?”
“We can take any physical objects that we can carry. As for you…Ruth thinks it’s because your aura is white.”
“The death aura.”
“Yes.” Kylen frowned at her. “Ruth explained what the colors mean?”
“Only the white. Is mine still white?”
Kylen drank from his water glass and stared toward the door like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. “Mostly.”
“What does that mean? Mostly?” She’d get answers from him if she had to pry each one out—which, at this rate, she’d probably have to.
He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose like he had a bad headache. “It seems to alternate between white and blue.”
“How?”
“Good God, do I look like Doctor Oz? I don’t know how all of this works. All I know is that every time we come into contact, you draw energy from me. And somehow that seems to be…prolonging your life.”
“You’re keeping me alive?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She searched his face, looking for…something. Something to explain why a reaper, this reaper, would want to keep her alive when it would be so much easier for him, for all of them, to let her die as nature intended.
“What happens to my soul when I die?”
The waitress brought their food, along with Kylen’s beer, and set it all down on the table. Kylen picked up the beer and took a long pull.
“Anything else, sugar?” she asked.
“Bring me two more of these,” Kylen said, tilting back the beer and finishing it.
“I will. But it’s awful early, sugar. Pace yourself.”
Kylen scowled as the waitress left and Olivia pressed on, “What will happen to me, Kylen?”
“After you die, a reaper will collect your soul and take it to Purgatory for processing. You’ll be sent to Heaven or Hell, and then you’ll begin the process of ascending or descending through the various levels of wherever you’re sent.”
“Who decides where I go?”
“An angel, Rashnu, does the initial sorting.”
“And the demons? What do they have to do with all of this?”
“The demons work for Camael. Camael is…was an angel. Now he’s classified as a fallen angel. He’s a duke of Hell, and he commands legions of demons on Lucifer’s behalf. The demons collect souls and take them straight to Hell. They don’t get sorted, and they can’t be retrieved. We think that the more souls he has, the stronger his demon army becomes. A war is coming. We’re trying to prevent it.”
“And if you can’t?”
“The term Hell on Earth will become a real thing.”
Olivia pushed her food around her plate, her appetite gone. Kylen’s studious appraisal of her made her self-conscious and uncomfortable. She knew she still didn’t understand the extent of what they were up against, but she was secretly grateful she wouldn’t be around to see it. She had her own battle to fight.
“Eat,” Kylen demanded, his own plate already empty.
“I’m not really hungry anymore.”
“We are not leaving here until you’ve eaten everything on your plate.”
She smiled at him. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“I am for today.”
Amused, she bit into the hamburger to placate him. It was delicious.
* * *
It was almost eleven when Kylen led them back to the crypt in the cemetery. He surveyed their surroundings. Things probably wouldn’t get too dicey until after dark, but that wasn’t a given. Imps, demons and worse things could move about in the daylight, but they preferred the darkness because of the protection and anonymity it offered. They would have eight hours of peace. If they were lucky.
&nbs
p; “Will you take me home now?” Olivia asked as she followed him through the door of the crypt.
“Where do you live?”
“An apartment in Maple Wood.”
“Is that near Maple Park Cemetery?”
“Yes, it’s a few blocks away.”
“Good,” he said. Sometimes a guy really could get lucky.
“Come.” He pulled her into his arms. His blue energy danced across her skin as they shimmered and spun toward Maple Park.
There was no crypt where they landed in Maple Park, but the cemetery was much smaller and, thanks to the almost unbroken canopy of old-growth maple trees, it was shady even in the midday sun. There were so many big trees that the stones were set at random around them instead of in a neat grid like in the downtown cemetery. The trees had probably been here long before the first corpses.
“Which way?” Kylen asked, glancing around the small expanse of the cemetery for any potential threats.
“Follow me,” Olivia said, taking his hand this time to lead the way.
They walked down a broken sidewalk through a quiet neighborhood of brick buildings and Victorian homes. It was Meridian’s historic district, and many of the houses were probably about as old as the maples.
“There.” Olivia pointed to the top floor of a renovated Victorian.
She keyed in a code on the security pad, and they walked through the shared entry door before winding up three sets of stairs to her small suite of rooms.
Kylen had noticed a shared kitchen and laundry room on the bottom level. “How many people live here?” he asked.
“There are four separate apartments. Mine’s the largest because it spans the entire top floor.”
When they reached the top of the stairs, Olivia unlocked her door and pulled him inside. Her entire apartment could be viewed from the doorway. It consisted of a spacious 20 by 24 living room, a small bathroom with a claw-foot tub and wraparound shower curtain, and another 20 by 24 bedroom with a small study and library arranged between the two dormers on the front-side of the house.
A Victorian gothic theme characterized the decor, from the rich burgundy walls to the heavy damask-striped curtains hanging from the side windows. The two dormered windows, which were surrounded by shelves and shelves of books, were paned with stained glass.
