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Reaping Willow

Page 11

by D. N. Hoxa


  Part of me wanted that to happen. Part of me wished I’d mistaken the man in the picture for my father, that it was someone else who just happened to look like him. Because what the hell would my father be doing in a picture in Elton Maine’s office?

  Maine’s face broke into a huge smile. He didn’t throw us out of his office. On the contrary—he began to laugh.

  “So you know,” he said, so relieved we could smell it in the air. “That certainly makes this whole thing easier.”

  “That girl Emma said that I wouldn’t have been able to open the door if I wasn’t one of you. Care to explain what that means?” I said. I could feel Adrian’s eyes on my face, but I didn’t dare look at him for fear he’d read my secret in my eyes.

  “It means that we have a charm in place to prevent others from entering, that’s all.”

  “A charm?” Was I supposed to know what that was?

  “A charm,” Maine repeated with a nod. “An incantation. A spell, if you will.”

  For a second, thoughts of my father left my mind completely. “A spell.” Was he kidding? “As in, a magic spell?”

  “Exactly that,” Maine said without missing a beat. “We’ve got a creator among us. It comes in handy for these sorts of things.”

  “I’m sorry, are you kidding? Because I can’t tell.” Thought I’d put it out here. It was better than trying to figure it out myself. Less time-consuming.

  Maine pursed his lips. “So you don’t know about that part,” he concluded, kind of disappointed. “All right, I’ll start at the beginning.”

  Like Cirko once said, Hallelujah!

  “Trappers, Inc. was created thirty years ago with the intent to cleanse the world, so to speak, of evil. What we do here is we keep tabs on demons, isolate and take them out quickly and without attracting any attention. All of us here are gifted with powers most refer to as magic, but only a lucky few can actually use them.”

  “Like your creator,” said Adrian.

  “Like our creator,” Maine confirmed.

  “Why creator?” There was only one creator that I knew of—God.

  “Because he can create with his powers. We practitioners are divided into two main categories: the creators and the destroyers. The first can create things using the power of their minds and charms written long before our time, and the others…well, they can destroy things with a thought. I guess you can say that we’re all lucky that most destroyers are below average in terms of power, but they do make the best fighters.”

  He said it all like it made perfect sense. To him, maybe it did, but not to me. This was the first time I was hearing the words charm or spell or even magic, used in a serious conversation. Because this was a serious conversation, wasn’t it?

  “What you’re telling us is that you’re a magician. Is that it?” asked Adrian, who sounded much calmer than I felt.

  “If you want to use that term, yes, but we prefer practitioner,” Maine said. “I’m sorry, Alan, but I don’t understand your part in this.” He waved his fingers between the two of us. “Who are you to Cece?”

  Ah, shit. They weren’t going to throw Adrian out now, were they?

  “Boyfriend,” he said, and I almost choked on my own spit. “I’m her boyfriend.”

  A fake smile on Maine’s face. He wasn’t pleased. “And you know about demons because…?”

  “Because I told him.” I wasn’t sure what these people would do to Adrian if they knew about the deal. For now, I wanted to keep it a secret. “I told him everything.”

  “And who told you?”

  I felt the blood draining from my face. “A demon,” I said under my breath. “That’s how I found out about you. A demon told me.”

  Maine’s face mirrored mine. White as a sheet, he cleared his throat and leaned closer to us. “Are you sure about that, Cece?”

  “I am. A shape-shifter,” I said, just to reassure him.

  “Well, then, I…” His voice trailed off, and he laughed awkwardly. “I’m afraid if that’s the truth, we haven’t been doing our jobs properly.”

  “Meaning?” Adrian asked.

  “Demons don’t know about people like us; otherwise we wouldn’t be here. That’s why we track and isolate them before attacking—to make sure there are no witnesses.”

  So they’d screwed up. How on earth had Cirko known about them?

  “He actually thought I was one of you when I cornered him. That’s how I knew what to search for online.” It was the lie I’d told Emma—we’d found their number and address online.

  “But he’s gone now, isn’t he? The demon?” Maine asked.

  I swallowed hard. “Yes.” Like hell was I going to tell him that Cirko had escaped.

  “Good, good,” he said with a nod.

  “How many of you are there?” I asked. How many more people were like me?

  “Thirteen, spread across the world,” Maine said. “Six here in the US, including myself, but we’re always searching for more.” Definitely not an impressive number. I thought there’d be hundreds, maybe even thousands. “So how do you do it? What’s your power?” Maine continued.

  What’s my power? I was going to say I don’t know. It would just be one more lie I told the man because I did know. When I lost it, I broke things. I’d broken entire rooms before. It didn’t take a genius to determine that I was a destroyer when there was only one other option. But Maine also said that most destroyers don’t really have any power. Where did that leave me?

  “I don’t have a power. I don’t think I do,” I said. What could one more lie hurt, anyway?

  “You do,” he said with a nod. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

  My eyes fell on the picture on his desk by accident. My father’s face, as young as I was now, consumed me completely. My heartbeat increased, and I couldn’t breathe fast enough to fill my lungs. All these things…how could he not tell me? How could he keep these things from me? I was his own daughter, damn it.

  “That’s me, if you can recognize me,” said Maine with a throaty laugh, pointing at the frame. I’d been staring at it for too long and he’d noticed.

  “And the other guy?” I heard myself say, my voice shaking.

  “Phillip Robinson, the co-founder of Trappers, Inc. My partner and dear friend, God rest his soul.”

  I jumped to my feet the next second.

  The co-founder, Dad? Really? The fucking co-founder?

  I wanted to scream so badly. My body was shaking, and it was only a matter of time before Maine’s office did the same. That would have been a hell of a way to tell him I’d lied through my teeth, and I couldn’t have that.

  “I need to…I just…” I turned to the door, but it seemed so far away.

  “Are you okay, Cece?” Maine’s hands were a couple inches from mine. I hadn’t even seen him move, but he was by my side.

  But so was Adrian. “It’s just a lot to process. She needs some air. Right, Cece?” he said, practically pushing Maine away from me. I nodded, unable to speak. “Right, so we’re going to go now and call you later?” He made it sound like a question, but he didn’t wait for an answer. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to the door. He had no idea how much I appreciated it.

  Maine was faster than us. In fact, he moved really fast for a guy his age. He must have been close to his sixties. He stepped in front of the door and looked at me with pleading eyes.

  “I know this is a lot to take in, but remember, you came to us. There’s a reason for that, and that reason is that we’re stronger together and weak apart. Honestly, it’s a miracle you’ve survived for so long on your own, and we could always use another trapper,” he said in a rush, as if he was afraid I’d stop him. Couldn’t he see that I could barely stand? “Think about it, Cece. We could help you. You could help us. We’re stronger together.”

  Exactly the opposite of what my father taught me: keep a low profile. Never trust anyone. Never turn to anyone for help.

  Well, as it turns out, my father
was a worse liar than I could have ever imagined, and I knew he kept things from me. Now, I just needed to figure out how to handle it.

  When Maine finally stepped away from the door, Adrian dragged me to the elevators and out in a blink of an eye, or so it felt to me. The fresh air that filled my nostrils also brought tears to my eyes. Adrian kept telling me that it was okay, but he had no idea. He had no clue. I looked up at the sky, hoping to see my father, to scream at him until there was no more voice left in me, to ask him why the hell he’d lied to me about everything!

  Instead, I saw an angel.

  Chapter Eleven

  What do you imagine when you hear the word angel?

  Otherworldly beauty, humanoid form, possibly glowing skin, and huge ass, white wings, right?

  Well, you’d be right on all counts, except for the glowing skin and the white wings. His were grey.

  “Oh, my God,” I whispered, my whole body numb.

  “Willow, what’s wrong?” Adrian said, calling my eyes to him for a second.

  One teeny, tiny second. And the angel was gone.

  The sky looked clear again, not a cloud in sight.

  “Where…where…” Where the hell did it go? I spun around and looked at the sky. He’d been right there!

  Adrian grabbed me by the hand and pulled me forward, but I couldn’t lower my head. I needed to see him again. Or maybe it had been a her? I couldn’t tell, he’d been too far to make out clearly.

  And now he was no longer there.

  “Sit down,” Adrian ordered, and I sat without looking. My ass hit hard concrete before I realized he’d sat us on the steps of a building not too far away from Trappers, Inc. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the sky, from the spot I’d seen that angel, but there was still nothing there.

  “Don’t move, okay? I’m going to get us something to drink. Just stay right here,” Adrian said. If he knew how numb I felt, he wouldn’t have wasted his breath to tell me that. I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Maybe it was my father. What were the odds that he’d lied about having wings, too?

  But no, I’d have seen them. I was with him almost all of the time when he was alive. Those wings were really hard to miss.

  Laughter bubbled from my throat, and it hurt my own ears. Had I finally lost my mind? I saw a freaking angel flying in the sky—that had to be a sign. Maybe I needed to save everyone the trouble and commit myself because I wasn’t as strong as I’d thought. I couldn’t handle all the lies, the betrayal. I’d finally gone insane.

  When Adrian came back, he put a bar and an energy drink in my hands and ordered me to eat. I did but I couldn’t even taste anything—I just chewed and swallowed like a robot.

  “Wanna tell me what happened?” Adrian asked, sitting next to me on the step.

  “I saw…” An angel. I couldn’t say it, so I laughed again.

  “You’re freaking me out here, just a bit,” he said, a dumbfounded smile on his face.

  “I’m freaking me out, too, if that makes you feel better.”

  “It does, actually,” he joked, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  I took in a deep breath and tried to get my shit together. It was always like this. I think it’s over, that I finally know all there was to know about my father, and then I discover something else that throws me off track completely. Except this time, I actually thought I saw an angel. A freaking angel, just flying around like nobody’s business.

  I needed to focus. There was no time for breaking down now. I would find a way to deal with all of this, just…not right away.

  “He was my father,” I said, my voice a stranger’s. At least I was no longer shaking.

  Adrian left his drink on the ground and turned to me, ready to listen to whatever I had to say. Possibly even believe me. Why wouldn’t he? He had no clue that I was seeing things now.

  “The guy in the picture,” he said, making me shiver.

  “How’d you know?” I asked before I realized the answer.

  “The last name.” He sounded sorry, but he didn’t have to be. It wasn’t his fault for what my father did. “I take it you didn’t know?”

  Was he kidding? “Of course I didn’t. I told you everything I knew.”

  He raised his brows. “Really?”

  “You didn’t believe me?” Of course he didn’t. We barely knew each other.

  “No, I did. I just didn’t think you told me everything.” Adrian dragged himself a little closer to me. “Willow, it wasn’t your fault.”

  Goddamn it.

  I jumped to my feet, unable to stay in one place. How dare he assume that I thought I was to blame for my dad’s secrets?

  How dare he know?

  “He made his choices, and you had nothing to do with it,” he continued. Now I regretted having told him about my father’s death.

  “Shut up,” I spit, so angry I could kick a building and knock it to the ground. Figuratively speaking.

  “Not gonna happen. You don’t get to feel responsible for this because you aren’t,” he continued calmly, like what we were talking about was no more important than the fucking weather.

  “How the hell do you know, huh?” He didn’t because he hadn’t been there. “Maybe I’d have held back on telling my daughter everything if she was weak.” As weak as I was. My dad just knew it before I did.

  “Except you’re not weak.” He stood up, too, and tried to grab my hand. I moved away.

  “Spare me, Adrian. You don’t know me. You have no idea who I am.” It was the truth. and he knew it.

  “Neither do you,” he said. “You have no idea who I am. You were raised to believe that people like me, who made deals with the Devil, were worse than demons, yet here we are. You trusted me with everything you know. You gave me a chance.” He smiled, and for a second, the city around us disappeared. “I might not know all of you yet, but that’s enough to make me want to.”

  Now would have been the perfect time to cry, to just sit down and bawl like a baby, but we were in the middle of the street and I didn’t want Adrian to see me break down like that for as long as I could help it.

  “Then you’re a fool,” I whispered, not half as angry as I was before. I wanted to believe him, God knows I did, I just…didn’t know how.

  “I’ll take it,” he said. He sat back down and patted the concrete next to him. With a sigh, I joined him. “So what happens now?”

  “No idea.” It was sad how true that was.

  “I think you should do it,” he said. “Go back in there and tell that guy the truth.”

  “Are you out of your mind?!”

  “Think about it, Willow. You’ve been alone all your life. Maybe it’s time that changed. You don’t have to carry the weight of knowing about demons all by yourself, and those guys looked like they could help.”

  “But you’re wrong. I’ve been alone all my life, and I don’t know how to work with other people. And telling them the truth? How do you think they’re going to take it?” What would Elton Maine think about my father if he knew he’d kept me away?

  And why the hell did I even care?

  “They’re going to be happy,” Adrian said. “He was right—you’re stronger together.”

  “And what about you?” Where did he see himself fitting in all of this? Because I didn’t want him to leave, not now. Not when I could finally just be myself around another person.

  “What about me?”

  “I can’t just let you be on your merry way! Not after everything I told you. You’re still the guy who made that deal, and I don’t trust you.” Lie. Such a pathetic lie.

  “If you want me to stick around so badly, all you have to do is ask. Who knows? Maybe I’ll say yes,” he said with a grin I could have slapped right off his face if I had any energy. Instead, I just rolled my eyes. “You’re not playing fair. You know how much I love your eye roll.”

  As impossible as it seems, I smiled. I wanted to hate him for it, but part of me just wante
d to lean my head on his shoulder and sleep. Sleep until the world became right again.

  “On a more serious note, I’ll be right here,” he said with a nod. The way he looked at me made me blush, so I turned away.

  “Right here? You want to spend the rest of your life sitting on these steps?”

  “Why not? These are very comfortable steps,” he said and lay back in his elbows. “Ah, the good life.”

  “Stop joking,” I said, pulling my lips in my mouth to keep from laughing.

  “Okay, joking aside, I’ll help you,” he said. “If you let me, I’ll help you with the demons to trap them or whatever it is you do.”

  “You would?” It was a dangerous job—the most dangerous job out there.

  “Of course,” he said, but that was just because the only demon he ever saw was Cirko, and he hadn’t been evil at all. Oh, and the Devil. Let’s not forget that Adrian saw the actual devil.

  I sighed. My life had become too complicated, too fast. I had choices to make, and I wasn’t very good at those, not to mention Trip and the angel I thought I saw.

  “I think I need a drink.” Just to help me focus.

  “It’s not even noon yet,” Adrian said.

  “We’re adults now. We can drink whenever we damn please.” It was a stupid rule not to drink during the day, and I couldn’t wait to break it.

  “In that case,” Adrian stood up and offered me his hand. I took it. “Let me buy you a drink, demon killer.”

  In those moments, that name sounded a thousand times better than trapper.

  Turns out, people had a good reason why they didn’t get drunk at noon. Who knew?

  I was in the toilet of a bar, throwing my guts up, wondering why the hell I’d thought it would be a good idea to drink three shots of tequila in a row on an almost empty stomach. That was it. I was swearing off alcohol forever.

  Or until I learned another of my father’s secrets.

  Adrian had been smart. He’d refused to drink anything but beer—and he’d drunk them slowly—so now he was sober, and I hated his guts for it. As soon as I was done throwing up, he took me by the arm and led me to his car, and…well, I don’t remember anything after that.

 

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