Dad lowers his tools on the table. “I could join you if you like.”
“Maybe next time?” I force myself to walk slowly out the front door, even though my feet want to run.
Outside, I dash under the low hanging branches of the walnut tree, glad for its leafy limbs, which hide me from sight.
Breathe. Concentrate. Conceal. Focus on my destination. Shift.
And smack straight into a wall. Rubbing my nose, I scan my surroundings and head for the hospital’s entrance while digging out the trench from my rucksack and putting it on. I shift to room 302 and freeze.
Eight people surround the bed obstructing my view, speaking in low voices. I scoot around them. On the bed lies a tiny woman, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. She says something, stops, and takes a jagged breath. The red of her soul flickers on her skin. Seconds later, she smiles, deep lines creasing her pale cheeks. A little girl with blond curly hair sitting on the bed next to my client whimpers. She wraps her small fingers around my client’s.
My number one mission: know the names. The souls deserve respect. I peek at the nametag stuck on the metal rail at the foot of her bed: Frau Elfriede Hofer.
I wait as Frau Hofer’s family pays their last respects. I shove my hands inside my pockets and shift my blurry gaze out the window. Once her family leaves, I wipe my face. Although I have collected souls with Grim the past weeks, it still gets to me every time.
Frau Hofer opens her eyes and smiles. I wrap my hands around hers, gazing into her green eyes. And our conversation begins.
She’s had a wonderful life. She met her husband at the beginning of the second World War and fell in love. At eighteen, he was drafted. It took her three years before she saw him again. They got married before he went back to war. I see images of him coming back when the war was over, and life after the war, struggling to make ends meet. Her six children were her dream and life. Her husband passed away fifteen years ago. She adores her three daughters-in-law and three grandchildren, but she’s worried what will happen when she leaves. From her memories, I see how she’s kept her family glued together. Nothing can break that bond.
I tell her exactly that. She nods, and I know she’s ready. She closes her eyes and, with a smile, she draws her last breath.
Once Elfriede’s soul dances its way inside the vial, I replace the cap, mark it, and slip it carefully inside the padded pockets of my trench.
Outside the room, I slump on the wall, cover my face with my hands, and take deep breaths. I did it. All I need are a few more steps to deliver the vial to the soul chamber. I climb to my feet and hurry down the bustling hallway. With my head low, I head for the stairwell. I could shift, but I need to savour this feeling. My first solo collection success. A male nurse dashes past me, pushing a patient on a stretcher. I brush past a group of nurses waiting at the elevator. As I’m about to push the door leading to the stairwell, a familiar scent swathes my senses, freezing me on the spot.
“Ana?”
ROLF’S EYES NARROW IN ON WHERE I AM, shift down the hallway to the right, then left. “Ana?” He tilts his head, sniffing the air, then inches closer.
Move your feet, Ana. Run.
I can’t. I’m frozen in place.
Rolf tentatively moves his hand along my body outline. I back up until I feel the wall against my shoulder blades. His fingers go through me, ticklish and uncomfortable. He stares at his hand, frowning. His usually lively grey eyes look washed out. A purple bruise blossoms on his cheek, and his perfectly contoured lower lip is tainted by an ugly red slash.
What happened to him? Did his father beat him? Was he in a fight?
I curl my fingers to stop them from touching his face. What are the chances of him being in the hospital? I scan him from head to toe. He doesn’t look too harmed.
Unless…
No. He couldn’t. I remember the smile the last time I saw him, and my stomach clenches. I whirl around, my feet propelling me the way Rolf came. The air splinters as someone pages a doctor on the PA system. I shift into a room, my eyes on the twitching figure on the bed. I breathe out in relief.
Not him. Not Rolf’s dad.
I rush out. I have to know. I have to make sure before I leave.
I shift in and out of rooms. On the fifth room, I stop and edge closer to the bed in the far corner of the room. I gasp, my eyes on Rolf’s dad. One eye is swollen shut, and his nose looks like it has undergone major pummelling. I scrutinize the curve of his face. I lean over, hoping my breathing or my thudding heart won’t disturb him. Is he unconscious? Sleeping? His one good eye flips open. I jerk back even though he cannot see me. He groans, trying to shift his bulk, then sobs a name. Rolf’s name.
I flee the room, fighting the bile surging up my throat, and spill into the hallway, zoning in on where I left Rolf. He’s gone.
My mobile vibrates in my pocket. I check to see who it is and press the answer button, swallowing repeatedly. “Hey, Anton.”
“You’ll come visit me tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah.” The effort to keep from throwing up has me sweating. I brush a hand against my forehead. “Is everything okay?”
“Um… sure. Just asking. I’m tired of lying around doing nothing.”
“You’ll be out soon.”
“Mmh.”
“Okay then, small bro. See you tomorrow.”
“Coolness.”
Once I deliver the vial to the soul chamber, I shift to visit Anton. Something’s making him more antsy than usual, and I don’t want to wait until tomorrow. He’s asleep, his long limbs sprawled on the bed, one hand wrapped on his bandaged chest. I pull the chair to sit beside him, intertwine my fingers with his, and study his profile. I’m still having a hard time accepting Schulz’s words. This is my brother, my blood.
He winces awake, wiggling his fingers from mine. He rubs his eyes, yawning. “What are you doing here?”
“You sounded like you missed me.”
He straightens, looking more awake. “I think Reiner’s in trouble.”
“Why do you think that?”
He lowers his head, fiddling with the covers. “Please don’t be angry with him.”
No promises. I lean forwards. “What do you mean?”
“I wish someone would help him. I didn’t want to say anything before—”
“Spit it out.”
He scowls. “You’re mean.” I wait, wanting to shake the details out of him. “I was just supposed to deliver an envelope to a post box. But these big men appeared out of nowhere, grabbed the envelope, and ripped it open. After counting the money inside, they said Rein had lied to them.” He takes a deep breath.
“Rein has been using you to deliver stuff to people? Do we know these people?”
He looks like he’s about to cry. “It was only this one time. Please don’t tell Mom and Dad.”
“Let me get this straight.” I inhale deeply to keep my voice from shaking. “You delivered something to someone for Reiner.” He nods, lip trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He jerks his chin forwards. “It wasn’t important. It was just a letter. And he’s like my big brother. Hey, where are you going?”
“To deal with an emergency.” I dash out of the room. Anton is fourteen for goodness sake. Why wouldn’t Reiner come to me if he had problems?
Why hadn’t I seen how much trouble Reiner was in? I could have helped him. Now, he used my brother for whatever shady business he’s been up to. My best friend who I trust—trusted—with my own blood.
I pull my mobile and dial his number. It goes to voicemail. I disconnect without leaving a message and redial again. Nothing. I shift and appear in a group of high-rise houses in the twenty-second district. I hover in front of his door, staring at the small plaque with the name “Wasserman” engraved in block letters, trying to bring my anger under control.
I press the doorbell. The door flings inward to reveal Trude, Reiner’s mother, a petite chestnut-haired woman. As usual, she extend
s her arms for a hug and pecks the air around my cheeks. “Ana, it’s so good to see you. Please, come in.”
I pull back and shake my head. “Thank you, but I’m in a hurry. Is Rein home?” Either my anger seeps through my voice or I didn’t school my expression well enough. Her eyebrows pull down, and she shakes her head. “Could you please tell him I asked after him?”
“Is everything okay?” She tilts her head and the yellow light from the hallway illuminates one side of her face. I suck in a breath. One side is caked with too much make-up. Beneath it is the tale-tell sign of a bruise.
“Is—is everything all right?”
Her mouth tightens around the corners. “I’ll let Reiner know you were here. Pass my regards to your family, Ana.”
I nod, as the door closes. I stumble my way towards the lift. Reiner’s dad did that? Why can’t they leave? No wonder Reiner is so messed up.
The anger momentarily flees. I shake my head. That isn’t an excuse for him to involve my brother in his dealings.
***
Everyone seems to be in a jovial mood during dinner. Anton’s coming home. Mom’s been fussing about what she’ll cook to celebrate. I check my mobile for any messages. Nothing. I push my plate aside and look at Mom and Dad. I’m not sure what to tell them first: that I won’t be attending the Conservatory or about Reiner. Either way, it will break their hearts.
I rise from my chair, rinse my plate, and place it inside the dishwasher. “I’m going to bed.”
“Are you doing all right, Silver?” Dad asks. “Everything ready for the concert on Tuesday?”
I nod. “The kids are very excited. I’m just a bit tired.”
Mom and Dad exchange a look. “Are you sure we don’t need to take you to the doctor? You seem really tired lately.”
“I’m fine. I promise.” I force a smile and turn to Lucy. “I could read you a story later, if you’d like.” Lucy flashes a smile and nods.
Upstairs, I head for the window. It’s seven forty-five p.m. Lucy won’t be going to bed for another hour. I conceal myself, fling the window open, and hop two storeys down. I have nowhere to go. I can’t face Rolf after the condition I saw his father in. And Reiner hasn’t called yet.
I need to shift someplace nice that will make me forget. The last time my family and I visited my grandmother in Kenya, we spent some time on Lamu Island on the Indian Ocean. I close my eyes and picture the calming white sandy beaches and blue waters. That’s where I’d like to go now. This would be my first international shift on my own. I chicken out and end up shifting to Prague. At least if I get stuck shifting back, I could get a bus home.
***
As I leave Lucy’s room, my phone rings. As soon as I answer the call, Reiner launches into a torrent of words.
“Reiner.” I cut him off. I’ve never been so furious. “You crossed a line. You used my brother for your own benefit. How—” I press my eyes with my fingers and inhale deeply. I thought I was ready to talk to him, but this is too hard. “How could you put my brother’s life in danger?” I choke out the words. “I can’t deal with this right now, with you.”
“Ana!” His voice shakes. “I didn’t mean to put An—”
“You did. He almost died.” If I don’t hang up, I’m going to cry. “I need time.”
We hang up. I collapse on the bed and bury my face in my pillow, scream into it. I can’t face Mom and Dad. They’ll know something’s wrong. I’m already feeling guilty about hiding so much from them.
If they know about Reiner, it’ll kill them. It’ll destroy Rein, too.
***
Monday weekly dinner at Grim’s bustles in its usual flair. But today, the air feels different, and so are the dinner costumes. I feel as if I’ve stepped through a portal and stumbled on revelry grounds: a cross between carnival, renaissance elegance, and some sort of gothic revival show. Glitter is in abundance as well. On the raised podium in front of the hall, a male creature dressed in green and brown plucks the strings of the Balalaika contrabass. The vines and leaves covering his white face flutter, his body swaying. At his side a Vila, dressed in a flowing white lace dress, croons softly.
I ease into the seat next to Zig. My lilac off-shoulder gown doesn’t fit in. “What’s the occasion?”
Zig smiles, looking breathtaking in a red vest, ruffled white cravat, dark trousers, and coat. “It’s almost summer solstice. June twenty-one.” He sighs. “You are in desperate need of a thorough ‘Introduction to Otherworld’ lesson.”
I scan the rows of tables crammed with the assortment of dinner guests. After the second dinner party, most of them stopped veiling themselves with Charms. Grim, dressed in a black suit—again—sits with his head tilted to a woman on his right. Her dark complexion, marked with glitter around her forest green eyes, glows under the chandelier, smiling flirtatiously. She touches Grim’s arm, her hand glittering with rings. A crown sits on a head full of red curly hair.
Schulz isn’t present today. Is he still coming?
Over the last week, I’ve been shifting the events from my last dinner in my head. The more I did, the more I drove myself insane with questions I couldn’t answer. Worse, I couldn’t tell anyone. Not after Schulz’s warning. Now, I’m eager, waiting. I want to know everything. And Schulz isn’t here.
Someone clears their throat on my right. I turn to find Axe, bearing his shark teeth in a smile. “Hi, Axe.”
“Good evening, my lady.” He bows. “You look exceptionally beautiful tonight.” My eyes dart to his ear. When did he get his ears pierced?
“Thank you.” I eye his grey suit. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He grins wider and leans closer. Too close. I pull back, but he’s still grinning. The next words confirm why he looks so blissful. “I’m your date for tonight.”
“My what?”
“He saw you first. At the U-Bahn,” Zig says, and I swing on my seat to face him. “Guarantees him the first spot on your list of evening escorts.”
Evening escorts? “Explain.”
“‘Spread the love.’ That’s Ernest’s motto. Remember when I told you he likes his guests to mingle at his parties?”
It hits me. “He set me up for a date?” Zig smiles. “Why would he do that?”
“Everyone needs love. His words, not mine.” Zig shifts on his seat. An extremely beautiful, pale-skinned woman sits at his side. He follows my gaze. “Oh. Sorry. Sylvie, this is Ana. Ana, Sylvie’s my date for the evening.”
Two white fangs peek at the corners of Sylvie’s lips. The gills on her slender neck flutter as she breathes. I have a sudden urge to duck under the table and hide. She extends a webbed hand to me. “Enchanté.”
I shake her hand. It’s cool, with a wettish feel to it. “Um, nice to meet you.”
Zig chuckles. “You can close your mouth now. You should take a look at your escort list in the library.” He jerks his thumb towards the hallway door. “You’re set up for the next fifty years or so.”
“Grim knows I have a boyfriend.” Exasperation seeps into my voice.
“And lover boy isn’t here, is he? Besides, it’s only dinner. He doesn’t expect you to make out with anyone. Unless you want to.” He winks. Beside me, Axe looks hopelessly pleased.
I really need to talk to Grim about this. “So, French, eh? Well done, Zig.”
“You wouldn’t believe what an exquisite kisser.”
How do they kiss around those fangs? “I’ll take your word for it.”
Sylvie traces her fingers along Zig’s, catching his attention, and brushes her lips against his, all while glaring at me. Sheesh! I didn’t mean to monopolize the guy. I shift to face my date.
***
Grim leaves the hall for the umpteenth time to collect souls. This is my chance. There’s only one place to get answers. I excuse myself and slip out of the room. No one’s loitering in the hallways. I shrug my feet out of the heels, sling them on my fingers, and slink towards the library.
Outside the doo
r, I press my ear on the cool heavy wood’s surface. No voices or movements. After a quick look up and down the hallway, I nudge the door open with my fingers and duck through it. I clutch my chest to keep my heart from exploding and glance around. What the hell was I thinking coming here?
I push away from the door and, with knees trembling, creep to the shelves on the far right. The books are arranged in no particular order: modern and ancient art from different cultures, steam engine building manuals, cooking recipes, classical music, architecture, castles. Down the line is a huge book: Afterworld History. It’s going to take me centuries to find anything in here. I grab the metal ladder and slide it to the other side of the room. I cringe, as it creaks, alerting the world of my presence in the room.
Sailing, Growing Tobacco, Origins of Living Things, Heaven and Hell. One shelf below the titles range from Solar Systems to Races of the Universe. Bingo. As I prepare to move a step lower, my eyes zoom in on a book—an exact replica of the ballads book Rolf gave me on my last birthday. I’m about to reach for it, when voices drift from outside the library door. I slide down the ladder, my knees trembling, and crumble to the floor. I leap to my feet and look for a place to hide. The only place is behind the floor-to-ceiling velvet curtains. I won’t make it to the other side of the room in time. The door swings open.
Hell’s crap!
I BACK UP, until I feel the sharp edge of a shelf digging into my lower back. I crouch, grab the books on the bottom shelf, and move them as quietly as I can. For once I’m grateful for my small build. I slide in, clutch the books in front of me to cover my feet, and pray no one will stroll this side of the shelves. I clench my jaw, hoping whoever it is will leave soon before my body curls up into itself, frozen for eternity.
“It is as arranged, Sinteler. You do not need to remind me every blasted time.” Grim sounds pissed. I’m sure I’ve heard that name before, but my pulse is thudding so loud in my ears I can hardly think.
“Just a friendly reminder,” the voice, which I assume is Sinteler, announces. “You either seem distracted by your new toy, or you have completely forgotten our deal. You do remember what is on the line.” The words are spoken in a deep, lazy drawl. It’s not the tone that’s frightening. It’s the words and the weight they seem to carry.
Reaper's Novice (Soul Collector #1) Page 22
