Reapers
Authors: Kim Richardson
Tags: #romance, #paranormal, #young adult, #action adventure, #teen fiction, #fantasy magic, #mythology and folklore
SOUL GUARDIANS
*
Book Seven *
REAPERS
KIM RICHARDSON
Reapers, Soul Guardians Book
7:
Copyright © 2013 by Kim
Richardson
Edited by Grenfell
Featherstone
All rights reserved by Kim
Richardson. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored
in a database or retrieval system without the written permission of
the author. The characters and events portrayed in this book are
fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is
coincidental and not intended by the author. Thank you for
respecting the author's work.
Fourth edition: April
2015
For Rosy,
Books by Kim
Richardson
SOUL GUARDIANS
SERIES
Marked Book # 1
Elemental Book # 2
Horizon Book # 3
Netherworld Book # 4
Seirs Book # 5
Mortal Book # 6
Reapers Book # 7
Seals Book # 8 —(Coming
soon)
MYSTICS SERIES
The Seventh Sense Book # 1
The Alpha Nation Book # 2
The Nexus Book # 3
Table of Contents
Chapter 21 -
Battle of the
Scythes
Chapter 23 -
An Unlikely
Alliance
Chapter 1
The Deception
T
he sky outside the
bookstore was blood-red. The hot air was thick with electricity,
the kind right before a thunderstorm, and yet there were no storm
clouds.
Kara moved from the window
and pushed off with one foot. The rolling library ladder sped
across the wood floors, which creaked and popped under her weight
like the rumbling of thunder. Using the ladder was her favorite
chore in the bookstore. She loved the way it made her feel like she
was almost flying. If only she had
wings.
She could fly up to the
highest bookshelf without a ladder and get her work done faster.
The sooner it was done, the sooner she could be with
David.
She missed him. She missed his voice,
his sense humor, and even his arrogance. Yes, he was insufferable
at times, but she could never stay angry with him for long. He
would always make her laugh in the end, no matter how much she
wanted to punch him in the face. It was in those moments in his
company that she came alive. When they were together, she could be
herself. It just felt right. They fit.
The ladder skidded gently to a stop
against a large bookshelf at the other end of the store.
“
I’ll never understand why
he puts the cinematography books so high,” she said,
exasperated.
With the book
It’s only a movie: Alfred Hitchcock, A Personal
Biography
between her teeth, she climbed
to the top. She leaned out from the side of the ladder, suspending
herself dangerously from one foot, stretched out as far as she
could, and squeezed the book between
The
Making of Psycho
and
The Stanley Kubrick Archives
.
“
One of these days you’re
going to fall and break your neck,” warned Mr. Patterson as he
polished a crystal ball the size of a grapefruit.
Instead of his usual colorful Hawaiian
shirt and Bermuda shorts, he wore a brown plaid suit with a red
bowtie that looked like it had been in the back of his closet since
the 1970s. Kara could smell the mothball stench from the top of the
ladder. She wrinkled her nose and tried hard to keep a straight
face. His thin white hair was combed over awkwardly, as though he
had dressed in the dark. The only things that were not so out of
place were his bare feet. They poked from under his pants as usual.
Her boss never wore any shoes.
Kara bit her lip and tried hard not to
laugh. He had obviously made an effort to make himself somewhat
presentable. But why?
Maybe Mr. Patterson had a
date later? Could there be a potential Mrs. Patterson in their
midst? But that didn’t make any sense. During all the months she’d
been helping him out at the bookstore, he had never mentioned any
female friends. Then again, he had never mentioned
any
friends. She always
thought of him as a loner, stuck in his old ways, like many older
folks. He kept to his shop.
“
Don’t worry,” said Kara
after a moment, “No one’s going to die today.”
“
You say it like you know
for sure, but you don’t.”
Mr. Patterson spit on his crystal and
rubbed it gently, eyeballing it like it was a large precious
diamond.
“
Mortals cannot foresee
the future. They don’t have the
acquired
skill and gift that
is
foresight
.
Only oracles—”
He caught himself and peered over at
Kara through his bushy white eyebrows. He watched her as though he
had said too much, as though he had revealed some great
secret.
Kara watched him with
increased interest. It wasn’t the first time she had heard Mr.
Patterson refer to himself as an
oracle
, whatever that was. She had
gotten used to the way he sometimes spoke in the third person. It
was almost as though he had a secret identity and lived two
different lives, like a spy.
It was a ridiculous notion
of course. He was just old and a little confused. Most likely, his
identity crisis was the result of spending night and day reading
books about clairvoyants and the great beyond. He was obsessed with
anything
supernatural
. Maybe he perceived himself as a connoisseur of the
paranormal, a modern-day Ghostbuster.
Kara smiled. She cared deeply for the
man. He was like the grandfather she had never known, and he felt
like family to her.
But there was something different in
the way he had just looked at her, as if he had gone too far this
time and had said too much and wished he could take it
back.
Mr. Patterson frowned and avoided her
eyes. He mumbled angrily to himself as he buffed the crystal ball
so vigorously that he looked as if he were trying to light a
fire.
“
Keep her safe,” Kara
heard the old man say. “That’s all I have to do. Well, easier said
than done. Thank you very much. If only they knew…”
Kara laughed uncomfortably. “Don’t
worry, nothing will happen to me. I know what I’m doing. It’s just
a ladder, no harm done.”
“
You kids these days,”
said Mr. Patterson. Kara could see sweat on his forehead. “Always
living on the edge, always looking for new ways to hurt yourselves.
Tell me, why is that? Why are you all in such a hurry to kill
yourselves?”
“
I don’t know,” answered
Kara as she slid down the ladder and landed with a thud. “Guess we
feel our lives are
boring
. Maybe we’re looking for some
adventure to spice things up a bit. Weren’t you ever young? Don’t
you remember what it was like?”
“
You think your life
is
boring
?” Mr.
Patterson looked up from his crystal ball.
Kara shrugged. “I don’t
know…maybe.”
She looked into Mr. Patterson’s blue
eyes.
“
Didn’t you ever get the
feeling that something was missing in your life? That strange empty
feeling, like you’re supposed to be doing something, but you just
don’t know what it is? Sometimes, well actually all the time, I get
this weird feeling that I was
meant
for something greater—like I have a purpose in
life, but I just can’t figure out what it is. Not yet, I guess. You
know what I mean?”
Mr. Patterson stopped polishing his
crystal and watched Kara with his mouth slightly open. He looked
worried, like she had discovered some dark secret. He frowned and
watched her without blinking. Kara could see fear flicker in his
eyes, as if he knew that something bad was going to happen to
her.
Kara squirmed uncomfortably under his
stare.
“
Uh…so…what are you all
dressed up for?” she looked away, hoping to change the subject
quickly before Mr. Patterson burned a hole in her forehead with his
laser-beam eyes.
“
Do you have a date or
something?”
Mr. Patterson looked at Kara for a
while before he answered.
“
Of course not. Don’t be
ridiculous.” He waddled over behind the counter and placed his
crystal carefully inside a glass case. “It’s the annual Festival of
Spoken Word at The Couch café. I’ve been invited to read my
poetry—”
“
You write poetry?” Kara
smiled, glad not to be the center of attention anymore. “I never
knew that. That’s awesome. Something tells me that you’re a
fantastic writer. Can you read me some?”
“
No.”
“
Why not?”
“
Because.”
“
Because why?”
“
Because
I
said
so
, and don’t try to
change the subject.”
Mr. Patterson looked at Kara with such
intensity that it forced her to look away.
“
What did you mean by
saying you
feel
that you have some sort of greater purpose in life?” he
pressed. “What exactly is this
feeling
? Can you tell me more about
it? Can you describe it?”
Kara shrugged. She wasn’t sure why her
boss would be so interested in that. Didn’t everyone feel like
their lives were empty at some point? She was sure she’d read that
somewhere.
“
I don’t know how to
describe it. It’s just a feeling I get sometimes. It’s just like I
said.”
“
Humor me.”
Kara exhaled heavily, a little annoyed
by Mr. Patterson’s strange questions and peculiar behavior. She
pursed her lips and contemplated how best to explain her feelings
so that he would be satisfied once and for all.
“
It’s like,” began Kara,
“it feels like…like that feeling when you’ve forgotten something,
or someone’s name, and you just
can’t
remember what it is. It’s
kinda like that. Like I’m supposed to be doing something, and I
just can’t remember what - but I
know
it’s something
important
. And it’s
always there with me, in the back of my mind, and I just can’t
figure out what it is.”
