“Don’t say sexy things to me. I don’t deserve it.”
Mason stiffened, but then relaxed again. “You think that's sexy? I guess that’s good. I didn’t know what to make of it.” He thumbed my other cheek, melting me in his arms afresh. “We should get going. Danny’s worried about continuing the workday this late. Thinks we won’t meet the quota.”
“I can’t go on with life like what I did is no big deal.”
“Then pay your penance to Terraway by making sure they have enough to eat. Help Mariang build up the souls so we can get out of this hole of constant starvation.”
I mulled over his suggestion, and finally ruled that Mason’s way was the best route I would be able to punish myself and still be helpful. “Okay.” Mason made me blush when he kissed my cheek, pulling me up with him as he stood.
“You saved my life,” he said as his hand fell into mine. I jerked my hand out twice before letting it rest back in his grip. He was patient with the untamed side of me. I weighed the damage of how many germs Mason might have, and if he was a safe person who wouldn’t contaminate me. We both calmed a little at the contact that was foreign to me, but felt like the most natural thing in the world with Mason. I don’t know how he did that, but I suspected a fair amount of pulling was involved.
“Mason? Don’t let me kill anyone else, okay?”
He squeezed my fingers as we walked toward the stairs. “I’ll do my best, hani.”
3
His Lips, my Legs
I took Mason’s advice to heart and set my sights on making myself useful to Terraway. I reaped my way through nine people on the first floor, five on the second, and then four more on the third floor. Mariang reaped five people before she collapsed in Danny’s arms. He carried her to the car, but I still had some fight left in me after I’d turned my self-loathing into fuel. I knew that if I went back home, someone would make me talk about the Titus incident. I didn’t want that, and was ready to avoid the confrontation at all costs.
Mason’s hand on my shoulder was soothing. “October, you can be done for the day. Eight people is all you need between you and Mariang combined.” He gulped. “Well, seven, I guess, now that the entire nation of Goblins is dead.” He closed his eyes to scold himself when my posture slumped in shame. “Sorry. I meant that to be more of a positive thing.”
“Well, I’m at eighteen souls, so that should stock up some extra days for us. The trek through Terraway to deliver the sagrado stone might take more than a day, you know. The sooner…” I stared down the long hallway that seemed a mirage with its unending tunnel-like haze. “The sooner, the sooner,” I ruled, not caring if I made perfect sense. I gripped the wall and leaned on it, trying not to double over. I knew the second I did, the work day would be over.
“This isn’t healthy. You need to rest. The souls are poison, you know. You’re inhaling poison all day long, and more than you need to. When was the last time you ate anything?”
“One more,” I ruled, not answering his question. I felt too yicky to eat anything. Reaping makes you sick to your stomach, sure, but I’d just killed a man, and an entire nation. I didn’t deserve a meal, unless it was my last meal before I was taken off the planet for being a horrible person. I deserved to be behind bars with the inmates who grabbed my butt when I wasn’t looking.
“Okay. One more and you’re done. I mean it.” Mason offered his arm to me, and I took it, leaning heavily like a drunken sorority girl on him. I pointed vaguely to a room that the tug in my gut was guiding me toward. Mason reached over the nurse’s station and did a slight pull on the two sifting through endless paperwork behind the desk. That little consideration allowed us to move into rooms without anyone calling security on us.
When we reached the hospital room, my arm was so weighted that I could only manage two light bangs from my fist. Mason let us in, and I found a middle-aged balding man sitting next to his wife, who was sleeping in the hospital bed.
The man stood, but I had no preamble for conversation. I’d used up all my finesse long ago. The tug led me not to the woman, but to her husband. I trembled as I placed my hand on his shoulder, sucking his freezing soul out of him. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t room 306?”
“No. It’s 317. You’re almost there.” He gave me a good-natured smile, not knowing that while he was worried about his wife being in the hospital, the person he should really be worrying about was himself. He would die within twenty-four hours, and there was nothing to be done about it.
Even though Mason was holding onto me so the soul could have a straight shot into him, he didn’t reap it fast enough. The shock of the cold let the last of the air out of my tires. I collapsed in Mason’s arms, not caring where I landed, so long as I could sleep.
My sudden plunge into unconsciousness brought me to a dream that was set on a Caribbean beach. It looked exactly like the postcards and pictures I’d seen. The water was clear and so deeply blue, it looked like it had a bucket of dye dumped in, or like, a dozen blended up cookie monsters or something. The sand was pure white, and I dug my bare toe in, smiling at the sensation my mind worked overtime to make more powerful.
I wore a skimpy gold bikini to match Princess Leia’s. I would never have the nerve to wear something so revealing in reality, so I vanished the scar on my arm and the one on my thigh to make the picture complete. In real life, I was covered enough to conceal my more obvious curves. In my dreams, I could be a woman without the fear of an inmate grabbing at me, or that my guy friends would get stupid ideas in their heads.
I lay back in the sand, basking in the sunshine that chased away the cold so much reaping had immersed me in.
I frowned when a shadow crossed over my body, squinting up to find the same guy with white-blond hair and a killer body I’d enjoyed at the Eiffel Tower in my other dream. He was smiling down at me in nothing but red and white striped swim trunks that looked like they were from a style done about a hundred years ago. “Is this spot available?” he asked, making me chuckle at his “Is this seat taken?” line he flirted with.
“Pull up some sand and enjoy the view.”
“Oh, I intend to. The view from here is spectacular.” His eyes raked over my form, and because my imperfections had been erased, I felt no shyness or shame. My smile bloomed as he sat next to me, looking around at the scenery as if he’d never seen it before either. “This is pretty. Where are we?”
“I think it’s Cancun. I’ve never been. Needed a good escape.”
“Long day?”
“I’ll say. This reaping thing is no joke. I’m trying to be what they need, but I overdid it today.”
“Yeah? How many did you reap?”
I loved that I didn’t have to explain what reaping was to him. He was a figment of my imagination, the cutie. “Too many. Terraway will eat well, hopefully.”
“You’re a good person, giving yourself up for them. You sure it’s worth it?”
“I’m sure I can’t live with myself if a whole world goes starving and I could’ve done something about it.”
“This is going to be harder than I thought,” he murmured under his breath. He looked me over with obvious lust poking through his gentlemanly demeanor. “I’ve never seen a woman clothed in so little.”
“You’ve never seen a woman in a bathing suit before?”
“Not one like that, no. You’re stunning.”
“You’re not so bad yourself. You got a name to go with that smile?” I felt a little slutty that I’d made out with him in my dream before without bothering to give him a name. “If you’re going to be making reoccurring appearances in my dreams, you might as well have a name. Fair warning, you’ve got some steep competition. It’s usually Ian Somerhalder in my nighttime boy fantasies.”
The man pursed his lips that were just the right amount of plump. “I could tell you what my friends call me, but if you keep dressing like that, I don’t think we’ll be friends much longer.”
“Philip,” I breathed, dubbing hi
m the name of the prince in one of the fairytales that Allie used to read to me when I was little. The illustrated prince in the book had a chin dimple, just like my dream guy did. “Let’s call you Philip. And I’ll be Gracie. I always liked that nickname best.”
“Very pretty. It suits you. Too gracious for your own good.” We laid back on the sand, and I grinned when he touched his toes to mine. I loved my dreams because my OCD didn’t inhibit me here. I was free. Philip’s feet were large, his toes long in comparison with my smaller feet. “I like it here. What made you pick this place?”
I shrugged and adjusted my bikini strap, which made his gaze drift to my chest.
That’s right. I’ve got moves. I only use them in my dreams, but still.
“It’s far away from where I am in real life.”
“And where are you in real life?”
“Someplace I don’t want to be.” I watched the gentle waves come in and wondered if I would someday learn how to swim. My smile died on my lips as I pondered all the choices that had led me to work for Ezra and permit complete strangers into my space. In the span of a couple days, our little group had grown closer – close enough to lean on. Most of my friends I’d known a decade now weren’t close enough for me to want to lean on. I wasn’t sure what it was about this group that made them the exception.
Philip leaned his shoulder to mine. “But where? Where’s your home?”
“Here,” I said, pointing to the ocean. “I live here now. I was thinking of putting a sofa over by the shore so I can watch the ocean like it’s a TV.”
Philip smiled at me through his note of irritation that I didn’t want to talk about reality. “You’re a stubborn one. It plays in your favor that you’re a pretty little thing.”
I’d never loved the idea of being called a thing, but I went with it, since he looked at me like I was beautiful when he said it. “Then why’d you come back?” I realized I’d probably brought him here, wanting another taste of his lips.
“I wanted to see you again. Get to know you.”
I shook my head. “Not much to know. Gracie Reese. 5’5”, nurse, and imagination surf champ.” I shook my head. “I came here to forget reality for a while.”
Philip moved his body to cover mine and leaned over me, his taut muscles looking almost photo-shopped. “I think I can help with that.”
When his lips touched mine, all talk about home stopped. There was nothing but his lips, my legs, his hands and the beach.
4
Bygones and Bully
I was warm and comfortable when I slowly came back to myself. Passing out from too much reaping was an ordeal I was unfamiliar with, so I was grateful I slept through the bulk of it with such a pleasant dream. The whole nightmare of Titus and his head crumbling beneath my hands felt like a distant Dali-esque hallucination tinged with surrealism that was all too real. The world was wreathed in a fuzzy white hue as I tried to grasp onto the reality I was certain had a fair amount of “oh crap” to it.
The crap sandwich grew more unavoidable when I finally opened my eyes and saw Von in a chair next to the bed.
Not my bed.
Not my house.
I sat up, my body moving slower than I would’ve liked. The sheets weren’t mine. I couldn’t be sure they were clean. I tried to extract myself from the stranger germs that were no doubt crawling all over me by now, but only managed to twist myself in the bedding more, until I was swimming in a sea of pea green fabric and no doubt dangerous amoebas.
“Whoa, calm down. I’ve got you.” Von ripped the comforter off me, and instantly I could breathe easier.
“Where am I?” I swung my feet over the side of the bed, but they were clumsy and flopped against the bedframe like rubber. “Stupid useless feet. Come on. Get it together, guys.”
“Take it easy, love. You’re in no condition to run a marathon just yet.”
“I’m fine.” In the back of my mind, I knew it was a dumb idea to stand up, but I was too stubborn to listen to Von or my brain. Determination. That was the only language I spoke. My attempt at standing on my own was short-lived. My knees buckled, and I collapsed on the floor, banging my elbow hard on the ground. “Ow! Oh, that stings.”
Von stood back, hands on his hips as he surveyed the mess that I was, sprawled out on the light beige carpeted floor. “Well, I told you to calm down. You were flopping around like a manatee out of water.” He reached down and lifted me gently, ushering me back to the bed. I loved how Von said “water”. Such a simple word, but his British accent did wonders with it.
I sat up with my feet over the side, a mix of frustrated and embarrassed. “Thanks. I guess I’m not firing on all cylinders.”
Von whipped out his phone and said into it, “She’s awake, but you were right. Her body’s not cooperating just yet.” He paused, studying my face as if looking for something to report back. “Yeah. Come on up.” He hung up and shot me a reassuring half-smile. “Better now that you’re not on the floor?”
“Much. Where am I?”
“Ezra’s house.”
“Seriously? Again?” I looked sideways up at him. “You alright?” I asked of his absence that morning.
“I am. I spent the day getting myself taken off your case, apparently.” He sighed, and that haunted look of too much weight on his shoulders dimmed the jokes his eyes and lips usually danced with. “It was fun while it lasted, yeah? The whole upstanding 9-5, or in your case 7-7, wasn’t for me. Not a huge surprise when Danny’s right, but he never tires of the confirmation.”
I nodded slowly, my brain taking longer than usual to digest the information. “I guess that makes sense. Fun night with Katrina?”
“Very fun night, though you were right about her trying to steal my knickers. Fun little fetish, but I and my underwear escaped.”
“Thanks for the report. So now what? Can I stop being a Death Omen?”
Von watched my face, taking a beat before answering. “No. You can’t get fired quite as easily. Mason can replace me on his own well enough.”
My shoulders slumped. I’d expected as much, but the verification sucked. “You need a letter of recommendation or something?”
Von let out a humorless chuckle. “No. I’ll go back to what I was doing before, though I don’t imagine Ezra will rehire me now. There’s plenty of work for Duwende outcasts who didn’t graduate the Academy, though not a lot for half-vampires.” He cleared his throat, not meeting my gaze. “I had an errand to run this morning, and it took longer than expected. That’s why I didn’t show up to the house at seven.”
I nodded, not wanting to get into a fight. I was still pretty pissed that I’d been attacked by Titus, and I didn’t want to hear excuses why a grown man couldn’t show up to work on time. “It’s fine,” I lied. I could feel evasiveness in his explanation, though I didn’t have the heart to investigate why.
Von sat back down in the chair near the bed, not looking at me. “What do you want me to say?”
My eyes narrowed as I heard people coming up the stairs toward the room. I made sure to keep my voice low so our conversation would be private. “I want you to say you didn’t give a crap about my life or what happened to me. I want you to be honest. I want you to admit that I’m being asked to sacrifice everything for your people, while you get to go screw my friend, sleep in and do whatever else you want, like it’s all a flipping vacation. I went through the crap of it today, and you were gone.” It wasn’t a challenge; I just wanted the truth. So many times had Bev told me how much she’d wanted to be there for this school event or that function, but something always came up. It was a lifetime of ‘running errands’, and I was tired of it.
Von exhaled. “You know that’s not true. I just didn’t manage my time well. Simple as that.”
My hands started to itch, so I gave the backs of them a clumsy scratch. “Alright. You had things to do. We can leave it at that. I’m alive. Bygones. It was good to meet you.”
He ran his hand over his face as th
e bedroom door opened. Danny’s eyebrows were pushed together, his expression that of a rhino gearing up for a battle of the horns. “What happened? I told you to follow me after we were done in the hospital when I took Mariang to the car. You can’t run yourself into the ground because it’ll make you useless the next day! Let me test your reflexes.” Danny was shouting as he planted himself directly in front of me. He tapped on my knees, but received no response. I debated between retracting from him and meeting his harsh advance with one of my own. “See? Now you’re useless!”
“You don’t have to yell at me,” I replied, trying to keep my indignation even-toned.
Ezra came in behind Danny with Mason and Mariang. “October Grace, are you hurt?” Ezra had kind aqua eyes that seemed genuinely concerned for my condition. I’d never had a parent worry if I was hurt, or talk to me like they cared. I knew Ezra’s agenda was to get me to like him so I didn’t cause problems for him and Bev, but every now and then I caught a note of sincerity I couldn’t explain away.
On instinct, I retracted from the compassion, afraid of trusting it and then getting bit. “I’m fine. Dazed, but fine. Who’s that?” I pointed to a man in a black suit who came in behind Ezra. He had a goatee, was in his late thirties, and looked about zero kinds of fun and nine kinds of serious.
Ezra turned to acknowledge the man. “This is Andy. He’ll be added to the security detail I’m assigning you until I can get a handle on things. He’s Duwende, so he can pull a little stress from you in a pinch, but he won’t be able to take souls from you, since Mason and Von are your Reapers.”
“I’m okay without the extra protection,” I insisted.
Tremble (Terraway Book 2) Page 2
