Reaping Willow

by D. N. Hoxa

  “Willow, hey!” Adrian called, knocking on the window like a mad man.

  “Is he coming with?” the driver asked, and only when I heard his voice did I realize who he was.

  Or what he was.

  The darkness that spread inside me was far worse than anything a demon could make me feel. It was like a living thing, sliding between my flesh and skin, making sure every single cell in my body knew it was there. The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror while I waited for the initial effect to fade. God, he looked like such an ordinary guy, the kind who lived next door and you greeted each other in the hallway every day.

  But what the eye couldn’t see, what my senses could pick up, was that he was naked. Stripped. Completely empty.

  I said before that there were worse things than demons in the world, at least things that made me feel worse, and this guy was it. He was a man, or he used to be one, right before he made a deal with the devil himself.

  Yes, I’m serious. He sold his soul for God knows what favor, and now he lived among us, ready to serve Satan, a minion to the hands of the demons I trapped.

  “I changed my mind,” I said through gritted teeth and stepped out of the car. I couldn’t for the life of me share such a tight space with a man who thought his soul wasn’t worth holding onto. If he knew what eternal damnation was like, would he have signed himself off to the devil? Not that I knew, of course, but it sounded bad enough to make me run the hell away from it. My father said to me once that it was the ultimate punishment, which makes you wonder why he agreed to it when he took his own life. A lot of things made me wonder, but Adrian still being there wasn’t one of them.

  The left side of his face had taken on a nasty purple color. The bruise was going to last for weeks, and that gave me some pleasure, at least.

  He smiled when I stepped out of the car, as if he thought I’d stopped for him. The headache behind my eyes worsened by the second. I turned around and walked as fast as I could. I was going to hate to have to take the bus, but it was better than walking all the way back to Midtown. It was already one a.m. Damn it, my mom was going to have my head.

  “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily,” Adrian said, following me like he couldn’t tell how much he pissed me off.

  I decided ignoring him until he went away was my best bet.

  “Look, I’m sorry I followed you, but I saw the address he wrote on that napkin earlier today, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” So fucking hilarious. He wanted to make sure I was okay! “And I thought I was helping you when I came into that alley. I had no idea you…that things were…the way they were.”

  I couldn’t make my legs move fast enough. My head was pounding, and panic was starting to settle in my chest. I had no idea what I was going to do now that Cirko had escaped. No fucking clue.

  “I should have known to expect something like that, though. Something was wrong with that guy. It’s why I followed you in the first place.”

  I stopped walking, making whoever was behind me bump into me.

  “Jesus, watch where you’re stopping,” the woman said, her eyes red enough to make you think she’d smoked all the weed in Harlem.

  I turned to Adrian, who was still shivering and sweating like he was going to drop on the ground any second.

  “What felt wrong?” I said despite my instincts telling me to just keep going. I couldn’t ignore something like this. A normal guy wasn’t going to keep following me after what happened. He wouldn’t have tried to put the blame on that demon after I told him that I’d intended to kill him. And a normal guy wouldn’t have felt anything about a demon.

  Adrian shrugged. “Something—I don’t know. He just looked…off.”

  He looked off. What the hell did that mean? “Describe it to me,” I urged him. “The feeling—describe it to me.”

  “What the hell does that have to do with—”

  “Just do it, Adrian!”

  He pursed his lips and just looked at me for a long second, like he could see all the secrets behind my eyes, and I could see none in his. I couldn’t help but wonder. Was there any chance at all that he was like me? Was that the reason why he gave off such a strange feeling to me? My father had used the word we instead of I too many times, but whenever I asked him about others, he shut down immediately. He told me that I was better off on my own, that I could trust people even less than demons when it came to secrets. He was right about that. I’d made the mistake of trusting him, hadn’t I?

  “Uncomfortable,” Adrian finally said. “Exposed. It was as if my body believed I was in danger, even though I couldn’t see it. I just felt it.”

  Closing my eyes, I let go of my held breath. I wasn’t sure whether I was glad that what he described was nothing like what I felt, or disappointed. Which brought me back to Cirko. He’d called me a trapper. No demons used that word. And what had he said, Trappers, Inc.?

  Consider me a fool, but I took out my phone again, opened my browser and did a quick search on the Internet. All I got was a TV show, which wasn’t much help. So what the hell was that demon talking about?

  “Willow, I’m trying hard not to lose it, but you can see why I might after what I just saw,” he said, and suddenly, he swayed from one side to the other, like his legs refused to hold him. Instinct took over and I grabbed him by the arm to steady him.

  “Easy, easy,” I whispered, unsure of how to proceed. Did I leave him right there on the sidewalk and get out of there while he couldn’t follow me, or did I stick around for another minute?

  “I’m fine,” Adrian said, a bit angrily, and pushed my hand away. “But I need to sit down. My car’s right over there, and it looks to me like you need a ride.” He pointed back where we’d come from. A car. Did I really want to be in a car alone with him?

  What was the worst he could do?

  “So go to your car and get out of here,” I said, deciding that not risking it was my best bet. Too much had happened. I could be putting him in danger by riding in his car.

  He let out a sigh. “You’re not going to tell me.” It wasn’t even a question.

  “All you need to know is that that guy was a bad man, and that if you stalk me again, I’m going to put you in the hospital, okay?” Thought I’d make that clear.

  Adrian smiled. “There’s a lot more to you than meets the eye.” He had no idea just how right he was.

  “Goodbye, Adrian.” I turned around to leave.

  “Willow?” he called, but thankfully, he was no longer following me. “Just…be careful, okay?”

  I grinned. “Right back at ya.”

  He looked sick but not sick enough to fall just yet. I felt bad for leaving him like that, but I really needed to get home and figure out what I was going to do. A demon had seen me and he was on the loose. If Adrian really needed help, he was going to have to fend for himself.

  Chapter Five

  Sorry Cece but I won’t be able to come to work anymore.

  Straightforward. Kind of what she would have said, if our roles had been reversed.

  I deleted every letter.

  I’m very sorry Cece but I found a guy and he’s taking me away to Neverland. Tinkerbell says hi.

  Stupid text. Who knew quitting a job would be so hard? I’d only ever been fired before.

  I tried again: Cece, something happened and I can’t come to work tomorrow, or any other day. I’m very sorry.

  I pressed send before I could spend another minute agonizing over a stupid text. It was a cake shop, for God’s sake. Cece would find someone else in a heartbeat, plus she’d get to keep my last paycheck. That had to make her happy.

  I looked at my apartment building like it was about to catch fire. What the hell was I doing, coming back here? I could put my mother in danger. George as well. But there were things I needed in there, like money and clothes and my dad’s ledger, and his box full of the things he had with him when he died. And I had no car. Where was I going to go?

&nbs
p; It seemed I needed my laptop as well.

  Good thing I’d never told Cece I lived with Mom. I had given her a fake address, just to be on the safe side. Now, even if the demons searched her records, they wouldn’t be able to find Mom. Hopefully.

  Taking in a deep breath, I pushed the entrance door open and walked inside. The hallway was clear as it always was at this time. I tried to walk the stairs as silently as I could, praying that Mom hadn’t waited up for me. Turning the key to open the door must have been one of the most stressful things I’d ever done.

  Too bad it was a waste of effort because as soon as I closed the door, I heard her. Mom had waited up for me.

  Slamming my forehead against the door wasn’t going to solve any of my problems, but it was worth a try, don’t you think?

  “You said midnight,” she called from the living room. Her voice made me jump, though I’d been expecting it.

  Dragging my feet, I walked to her, all the while telling myself in my head to just get it together. This was my mother, not the Grim Reaper. Something tells me I’d have handled him better, though.

  “I’m sorry. I got busy and lost track of time.” I didn’t even try to make the lie sound honest. There was no point.

  “I’ve been worried sick, Willow,” she said, her eyes glossy. She’d probably cried. She always cried when she was alone, and George was still away on business. As if I didn’t have enough things to make me feel guilty as sin already.

  “Mom, you have to stop,” I said, completely defeated. “This isn’t a way to live your life. I’m twenty-one years old and you’re fifty! We can’t keep doing this to each other any longer.”

  Her hands pulled up in fists. That’s how I knew she was going to put up a fight.

  “I am your mother!” she shouted, making me shiver. “It’s my job to worry about you, whether you like it or not. It’s my job to take care of you!”

  “But it isn’t!” I shouted back. We’d been over this so many times, it felt like reading a fucking script. “That’s not your job anymore, and it wasn’t your job to take care of Dad!”

  Because that was her issue. It always had been. She somehow held herself responsible for what happened to him. For what he did. She thought it was her fault, that she didn’t see the signs, that she could have stopped it if she’d only looked closer.

  She couldn’t have, but no matter how many times I told her this, she never listened. It wasn’t her fault because it was mine.

  Her chin quivered, but she didn’t burst into tears like she had before.

  “I don’t want you to end up like that, baby. You know I couldn’t live with myself,” she said, her voice shaking. It broke my heart to see her like that, so full of the wrong things, so empty of the good.

  I walked over to her and grabbed her hands in mine. “Then stop! I’m not going to end up like Dad, but you have to let me go, Mom. We’re bad for each other living under the same roof. You have to see that.”

  “No, we’re not,” she said. “We can watch out for each other. We can take care of each other.”

  “We’re driving each other mad!” How could she not see it? “I love you to death, more than anything in the world, but I can’t keep doing this anymore.”

  I really couldn’t, and not only because I was miserable with this way of living, but because if I stayed, demons could come knocking on that door any second. The more time I spent with her, the more danger she was in. My mind had already been made up—I was leaving. Not only the apartment but New York. I was going to start somewhere new, find demons to kill and keep a low profile. A new beginning.

  Maybe Adrian Ward happened for a reason. Maybe this was exactly what I’d needed all along.

  “Willow, no,” Mom whispered, and deep down I was glad that the sight of her, so heartbroken and desperate, couldn’t make me stay again. I was glad I had no other choice but to leave, and I felt even shittier about it.

  “Mom, I’m sorry, but I’m leaving.”

  “No!” she said, even more terrified. “Where are you going to go? You don’t even know how to cook, Willow.”

  “So I’ll learn. It’s about time, don’t you think?” And cooking was the least of my worries right now. I tried to offer her a smile, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Or me. “It’s okay, Mom. I swear, it’s okay.”

  With a loud cry, she took me in her arms and cried on my shoulder while I pretended I didn’t. I repeated the same thing to myself, too, all along: it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. I lay with her on the couch until she calmed down and fell asleep. Everything was going to be okay.

  What a fucking liar.

  I was all packed and ready to go. My blue duffle bag, the one I’d bought the first time I wanted to leave my mom’s apartment, had everything I needed—clothes, my dad’s ledger, a couple kitchen knives in addition to the three bone knives I’d washed Cirko’s blood off, and the glass box with the things the police found on my father’s person the day he died: his wallet with a picture of me and Mom in it, his old cellphone, a small pad where he recorded random thoughts, mostly about his patients and some pennies. All the money I’d saved was in there, too. I’d saved it for this occasion. All my life was in that duffle bag, and I was never letting it go.

  It was four in the morning when I went back to the living room and put a blanket over my mom, who was sleeping so peacefully, you could never tell she’d been crying her eyes out just a few hours before. I considered waking her up, but I didn’t have the heart to do it. Instead, I left a note on the coffee table:

  I’ll call you later. I love you.

  George was going to be back from his trip soon, and he was going to make sure she stayed distracted until my mom got used to the idea that I was no longer living with her. And when I got to my destination, found a place and got comfortable, she could come pay me a visit, too. I was looking forward to it, in fact.

  I kissed her forehead as lightly as I could and fought the tears that wanted to spill from my eyes. With a deep breath, I left the keys of the apartment on the table and walked out.

  “Hello, Willow.”

  You know the first thing I did? I let go of my duffle bag. So much for that.

  I jumped around, heart in my throat, my hands reaching for the knives in my waistband. One thought rang clear in my head: they’d found me. Cirko and his demon friends had already found me.

  But when I looked at the man who’d called my name, I saw it was much worse than that.

  He was a few inches taller than me, dressed in a black shirt and jeans, nothing unusual about that. But his face…his picture-perfect face, his black hair sleeked back, and his black eyes. Unusual wasn’t the word for it. Freaky hit right at home.

  His eyes were two pits, completely void of light. A person’s eyes told a lot about him, but this guy’s didn’t. They didn’t say anything at all other than that nobody was home. I swear, even a dead man’s eyes spoke more.

  My back hit the door and I held my breath, hoping it was all just a dream, because no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t feel him. It wasn’t like with Adrian. Adrian felt strange, like confusion, like whoever made those auras that I could see hadn't decided whether he was good or bad, but this guy felt like nothingness. Like he wasn’t there at all, which was impossible because I could see him. He was standing right there!

  “Who the hell are you?” I asked, my voice shaking. He’d scared the shit out of me, I’d give him that. Who knew how long he’d been waiting for me there? That scared me even more.

  “There’s no need to be rude, Willow,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. His grin was something out of nightmares, and he looked like he knew it. “I’m merely a helper, that’s all.”

  A helper? I didn’t think so.

  “How do you know my name, or where I live?” I showed him my knives. If he was hoping for this to be easy, he was in for a surprise.

  But the truth was, he didn’t look all that impressed with the knives in my hand. In fact, h
e didn’t seem to care at all.

  “Oh, I know a lot more about you than that, Willow, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” His voice made me want to crawl right out of my skin. Hands down, this guy was the freakiest creature I’d ever encountered—and I killed demons on a regular basis. “My name’s Trip, if you must know. I’m here to chat with you for a bit.”

  “Chat?” Was he fucking with me? “Sorry to burst your bubble, buddy, but you and I are not going to chat.” I took a step closer to him to say that I meant it. I didn’t care who he was, but every instinct in my body agreed that the world was better off with him gone, and I was to carry out that very important task.

  “Sure we are,” he said, waving a hand at me. “Put those things away, will you? You’ll only hurt yourself.”

  Something pricked me on the back of my neck, and my entire body froze for a second. I didn’t want to put the knives away. I didn’t want to move anywhere but forward.

  So why the hell were my arms lowering to my sides?

  “Good girl,” he said with a pleased smile. My heart was about to soar out of my chest. My entire body was covered in sweat, and my mind was screaming at me to just do something!

  So I tried.

  I tried to raise my arms again, to attack him.

  I couldn’t.

  “Now, to get to the interesting part,” Trip said, leaning back on the door of our neighbor, Mrs. Herman. “You’ve been seeing a guy lately. About your age, a bit on the ugly side, I’m afraid.” He frowned like the word tasted bad in his mouth. “I don’t know what he’s been telling you, but I’m here to warn you to stay away from him.”

  “I haven’t been seeing anyone,” I said through gritted teeth, constantly trying to move my arms. “What are you doing to me, asshole?”

  His grin froze for just a second. “Didn’t I tell you not to be rude?”

  Another prick behind my neck. Oh, God. I thought demons were bad, but this guy? This guy was…something else, and I had no idea what. And my mother was right there in the apartment, sleeping, barely ten feet away from him. I couldn’t let him get close to her. I’d do whatever I needed to do.