by J. L. Weil
“Thinking about ditching?” A deep voice murmured in my ear behind me.
Ignoring the goose bumps skating down my neck, I gradually spun around. “At least I know you can’t read my mind.”
A slow, wry smile teased Zane’s lips. “I’ll only come after you.”
I stared up at him, the sunlight highlighting his striking features. “That won’t be necessary. So, is there like a secret underground lair?”
Zane’s lips pursed. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
“Lead the way.” I pivoted on my heel, following Zane. Inside, rustic beams were exposed across the vaulted ceilings. The place had a sort of beachy southern charm to it—rustic chic as my mom would have said. We walked past the bar area toward the back of the club where the employee offices were located. Although the Black Crow had plenty of history to see, I couldn’t take my eyes off Zane.
His dark locks were windblown as if he’d been out working on the docks. The sleeves of the Black Crow T-shirt he was wearing were cut off, emphasizing the strength in his arms. Just as my thoughts started to stray to less than friendly thoughts about Zane, we came to a door with a keypad on the wall. The buttons lit up in neon red as he punched in a five-digit code. A series of clicks followed right before the door swung open to a narrow hallway.
He held the door open for me. “There’s no need to be nervous,” he said as I passed by, brushing his arm.
A thrill went through me. “I just don’t want to make a complete jackass of myself.”
His usual smugness oozed from his half smile. “Princess, that’s inevitable.”
In a jerk reaction, I punched him the arm. “Thanks a lot. I feel so much better.”
Unfazed, his grin only widened. “Save it for the ring, Rocky.”
The hall led to a circular steel room, with a set of stairs that led to what I guessed was a combat floor. A computer hub lined the wall to my left. Around the upper level was a sequence of large arched doorways, opening up to other areas of…I had no idea what went on in those other areas. “What is this, the Batcave?”
“Something like that.”
My gaze roamed to the other occupants in the room. I recognized only a handful, excluding my arrogant instructor. Aspyn was stretching her long legs on the mat. She caught my eye and winked.
Venus, the ginger skank, was whispering to a group of girls huddled below in a corner. We’d never officially been introduced, but I didn’t need an introduction to know that Venus and I would never been friends. We both wanted to the same guy. Her eyes went straight to Zane, glimmering with elation, only to turn to disdain when they landed on me.
Wonderful.
Another enemy. Just add her to the long list of reapers who wanted me dead.
I felt everyone’s eyes on me the moment Zane and I proceeded into the room. We hadn’t started and my head was already beginning to throb.
As we eased down the stairs, I let my hand trail along the metal railing. The lower level was cool and smelled slightly of my school gym. Not what I would consider a pleasant scent. And the memories associated with gym class were ones I’d rather never relive. Cushioned blue floor mats covered most of the floor and squished under my tennis shoes. We wove in and around reapers, careful to not disturb their routine or get accidently popped in the mouth by a flying fist. If anyone were going to get hurt, it would be me. And it was going to be something as simple and stupid as tripping over my own feet.
I should have been paying more attention to where I was going. As we passed Venus and her rotten groupies, I stepped on my shoelace, tangling my feet, and came inches from face-planting the mats. A sharp pain shot over my ankle, and I winced. “Dammit.” As first impressions went, I’d knocked it out of the park. Was it possible for me to start this day over?
Zane’s struggled and failed to keep the amusement off his lips. He extended a hand. “You okay?”
I burned him with a scowl and ignored the help, pushing myself up. “There was an invisible bump or something on the mat. I swear.”
“Uh-huh,” he stated, finally stopping at an empty spot in the corner. “You ready?”
I snorted. Did I look ready? My heart was jumping out of my chest. Securing my hair into a ponytail, I cleared my throat. “So, um, what do I do?”
Zane smiled smugly. “First”—he tweaked the end of my nose—“we need to teach you the basics. Lesson number one: Never lose sight of your target.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly. “I’ll try to remember that.”
“You have an overabundance of enemies now, and learning to fight and use your inherited gifts will be crucial,” he continued. “Even though I’ve taken an oath to protect you, I might not always get to you in time.”
I nodded. I fully understood the danger I was in, and I could admit there was a sense of security and empowerment in the idea of being able to handle myself with more than snappy words.
He took a breath and backed up. “Now hit me.”
“With pleasure.” I took advantage of the moment and plunged forward, curling my fist and then hurling it into Zane’s gut. God that felt good. At least it did for about two seconds before the pain started radiating down my hand, but I kept a stiff lip.
“You hit like a girl, princess.”
I angled my head to one side. “How about that? I am a girl, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I noticed,” he said low enough for just my ears.
I felt myself blush and irritation flared deep inside me. “I need a few moments to warm up.”
Zane chuckled, and he stalked forward, his face losing all amusement. “Warm-ups aren’t a luxury in the real world.” He slipped into predator mode and circled around me like a wolf. In the space of a blink, he was completely shrouded in darkness, and I broke the first rule: Never lose sight of your target.
I failed.
A shadow licked out, morphing—at Zane’s command—into a thin, sleek blade and slapping at my ribs. I shrieked, glaring as I felt the sting of absolute coldness thrash my skin. It was worse than frostbite. “Dammit, Zane, that hurt!”
He reappeared from the darkness with a humorless smile. “A piece of advice. Don’t get hit, princess.”
Glaring, I stabbed him with a series of daggers. How was this going to make me a fighter? For a moment, I was tempted to tell him to bite me and stalk right out the door, but I swallowed my pride and faced him. Regardless of the welts I would have in the morning, I could take a few cuts and bruises if it meant saving someone I loved or myself.
“Stop thinking and let your natural instincts react. Thinking, even for only a moment, can get you killed.” He crooked two fingers. “Again.”
Bunching my muscles, I gave a feeble yell and lunged. He struck out with a sword formed from the shadows he manipulated. It cleaved through the air between us. I felt the burn on my forearm before I realized I’d been hit—a bolt of ice searing across my right arm.
I hissed, cradling my hand against my chest. “You asshole. I can’t believe you cut me.”
“I warned you.”
For two and half-hours we practiced, and I’d only been able to hit Zane a handful of times and lost count how many swats I took with his shadowy weapons. I got hit a lot. The sting went through my clothes, but my butt wasn’t as bruised as my pride. Disaster came to mind.
Anger came and went, flaring up each time Zane managed to smack me, leaving behind the icy marks of failure. I tried switching from defense mode to offense and back to defense in hopes of giving my skin a break. But it didn’t matter. Zane adjusted, only attacking more.
“You’re not playing fair,” I said, finally snapping.
He folded his arms, the shadows humming behind him. “Fair? I thought I was clear. This is a lesson, not a game. Hallows don’t play fair. They play to kill.”
Fine. Point taken. Tired and cranky, I was ready to call it a day. I pinched the bridge of my nose, my ribs throbbing. “So far, all I’ve learned is how to take a beating…and that I�
��m probably going to die.”
Zane’s lip curled into a snarl. “That’s not going to happen.”
I wished I had his self-assurance. “Not even you, the dreaded Death Scythe, can predict my future.”
He grabbed the tip of my chin between his fingers, examining my face. “You need to eat, gain your strength and then sleep. We can pick it up tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I snapped. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you enjoy zapping me with your darkness.”
“You’re not quitting on me, are you?” he baited.
That was it. Buckle up, buttercup. You just flipped my bitch switch. Nails extended, I flew at Zane, intending to smack the calm expression off his face.
He snatched my wrist with one hand, midair, before it cracked across his cheek. The rage that had ignited inside me simmered at the surface as I stared him down. With a flick of his wrist, he tugged me closer, but I didn’t go willingly. I struggled and cursed like a bloody rock star.
“What took so long?” He folded his muscular arms, stretching across his Under Armor shirt.
I glared. “For me to realize you’re a dick?”
There was a satisfying grin on his lips that made me immediately want to scratch his eyes out. “Nah. I think we both know you already figured that out. I was talking about the moment you let go and just reacted, allowing emotions to rule your actions.”
My senses were buzzing from the anger and because Zane was still touching me. I stepped back, breaking the connection.
“Feelings are powerful, but they can also be dangerous if you don’t know how to control them. There is knowing how serious this is and believing it. If I had wanted to, any of those hits could have ended your life. I could have taken your soul and absorbed your powers. In a fight like this, you can’t afford to lose.” The depths of his blue eyes said more than his words. He didn’t want to lose me.
I swallowed a lump of emotion. He was right. I had much to learn.
***
I wasn’t sure what woke me. The cawing of a crow, the howling of the wind from off the oceanfront, or the funny smell that tickled my nose, but as I blinked, my room was quiet. I rolled to my side, glancing out the windows. The curtains were drawn and moonlight streamed in, casting gleaming shadows over the dark wood floors. I’d learned that things, both living and dead, lurked in the shadows.
As I swept over the room, I came in contact with eyes the color of dew-covered moss. An eerie sense of familiarity joined the nausea that began to roll through me. I clutched the blanket to my chin, reminding myself to breathe. Yes, there was someone in my room. No, it wasn’t Zane. I was beginning to think my security system was fatally flawed. Two reaper break-ins this week.
Pushing the tangled hair out of my face, I sat up, squinting in the dark. The reddish glow glimmered in the darkness. “Crash?”
He took a long drag on his cigarette. “The one and only, doll.” He exhaled, a billow of smoke filling the air.
Glad we got that settled. As I stared at him, hip leaning against my dresser, I wondered if I was dreaming. This was the first time I’d seen Crash since that day in the parking lot when he offered me a smoke. “Um…did I summon you?” It was a bad habit I’d recently acquired.
“Not that I know of. I couldn’t sleep.”
I tried not to be creeped out and keep my calm, but it was too late. “So, you thought it would be a good idea to break into my bedroom?”
With a flick of his finger, he dropped ash from his cigarette on my floor. “I was bored.”
“Usually, when I’m bored, I don’t invade other people’s homes in the middle of the night. I mean it’s”—I glanced at the clock—“three o’clock in the morning.” I’d only been asleep for a few hours, being the night owl I was.
Everyone was wound up, waiting for a feud to break out between sectors, waiting for the restless spirits to descend upon us in a chain reaction the reapers couldn’t control, waiting for me to take command. Was that why he was here? If so, which side did Crash stand on? Mine? Or the rebellion’s? My mind started to go off in multiple tangents. Had something happened? Was Zane okay?
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He shook his head, wisps of his blond hair falling over his forehead. “Not what your pretty little head is thinking. Your boyfriend—or should I say boyfriends?—are just fine. Although, that’s more than I can say about myself once they find out I was here.”
I glanced sideways at my dresser, wondering how long it would take me to grab the blade I had hidden in the top drawer. I was pretty paranoid these days. “Okay, why exactly are you here?”
Crash’s eyes met mine with a wealth of concern I never expected to see on his scruffy face. “Have you seen Estelle?”
My curiosity was peaked. What on Earth would he want with Estelle? And now that he mentioned it, I hadn’t seen her in days, probably before Rose’s death. “I’m sorry. If you came all the way here, looking for Estelle, it was a waste of your time. As far as I know, she hasn’t been to the manor in days.”
Crash glanced out the window, letting out a weary sigh. “Damn.”
I loosened my grasp on the blanket, letting it fall to my waist. “Is she missing?” This was unexpected.
“She hasn’t been home in two weeks, which usually isn’t cause for alarm. Reapers are known to come and go wherever the spirits call. But it’s not like her to leave for so long without checking in.”
“Estelle’s a hawk.” I racked my brain, trying to recall if I’d seen the mark on her wrist.
Pulling another long drag from his cigarette, he nodded. “She’s my sister.”
This was one of the strangest conversations I’d ever had in my PJs, and lately, that was saying something. “Why come see me?” I had my suspicions…dark and disreputable just like Crash.
One of his bushy brows arched. “You’re a banshee.”
I glimpsed down at my hands. “Uh, right. You want me to like summon her or something?” Wow, that sounded extremely lame. Time to shove my head under the covers and pretend this whole conversation never happened.
A nefarious grin started to spread on his lips, as if he knew what was going on inside my head. “Or something,” he said.
I felt the need to be honest. “Sorry to have wasted your time, but you totally picked the wrong banshee. I have yet to master the whole beckoning of reapers.” I could probably summon Zane in my sleep, but anyone else, not so much.
“You have power, Piper—a hell of a lot of power. Seeking one reaper should be a piece of cake. I suggest you start figuring out how to use your abilities before you find yourself in another unsavory situation. Rumors travel faster than truth.”
I tilted my head to the side, watching him. Did I sense an undertone of a threat in his words?
He flicked his cigarette, crushing it into the floor with his boot and extinguishing the stick. “I’ll give you a few days to sharpen your skills, and if Estelle hasn’t popped up, your goons won’t be able to stop me from finding you. We all have our special abilities.”
Goodie gumdrops. A threat and an ultimatum.
Before I could tell Crash to go suck a lemon, the veins around his eyes turned scarlet, cascading over his face. This was nothing new, a trait I was beginning to expect from reapers, but then his form began to ripple, liquefying and becoming transparent. I mean, I could literally see through him. Gawking, I edged forward on the bed, watching as Crash’s body morphed into…a snake?
Disgusting.
Stupefied, I blinked, suppressing the urge to squeal and run around the room like a chicken with its head cut off. My body shuddered.
I guess that explained how Crash was able to get inside.
So much for Zane’s vow of duty. I thought he was supposed to get some kind of homing signal when I was in trouble. Or was it just only when someone had a blade to my throat?
I doubted I was going to be getting much beauty sleep after that. Since I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go b
ack to sleep, I shot out of bed and padded across the room. I checked every window and door, securing the locks. Even then, I was frazzled, so I did the one thing that calmed me at the wee hours of morning. I drew.
I flipped through my sketchbook, looking at how my drawings had changed. What used to be kickass anime girls with colorful hair and wicked blades had transformed into fifty shades of Zane.
I sighed.
Chapter 9
“You look tired” were the first words out of Zane’s mouth the following day.
Gah. I wanted to throttle him. Today was not the day to mess with me. Not only was I sleep-deprived and cranky—waking up at the butt crack of dawn did that to me—today was also the last day TJ was going to be on the island. I kind of wanted to throw up. “I didn’t sleep well.”
Zane stretched, like a panther. “Too busy thinking about me?”
My short laugh came out louder and crazier than I’d intended. “Not quite. I had a visitor last night.”
“You never told me you were having a slumber party. And I wasn’t invited.” He put his best “put out” face on, but he looked ridiculous.
I pursed my lips. “If I was going to have a sleepover, I’d rather it be you than Crash.”
That got his full attention. About time. His gaze sharpened, the hue of blue in his irises darkening. “Crash was in your room last night?”
“Uninvited, I might add, just so we’re clear.” I scuffed my foot on the mat, lifting my lashes to meet his sinister gaze. “And what the heck? Where were you? Didn’t you get my damsel in distress signal?”
“I was working,” he stated flatly, steely eyes circling the room. “And I never sensed that your life was in danger.”
It was easy to forget sometimes that when he said working, he wasn’t talking about down by the docks. He had been reaping souls. “Who kicked the bucket?”
“A guy on the main island,” he answered before his eyes found mine. “And stop trying to distract me. I’m going to kill him,” he growled, more to himself.
