White Raven (13 page)

Chapter 13

The next two days it stormed a torrential downpour. Thunder roared over the turbulent waters, lightning cracked in the murky sky, winds howled like a sad wolf, and the constant patter of raindrops pelted the windowpanes.

I was going stir-crazy.

Being cooped up in this room and alone in this house, I was going to lose my mind. I pulled out my art stuff, hoping to occupy my mind. It was my usual escape. Not today. Every face, every pair of eyes, every set of lips all resembled one pompous ass. Zane.

Chewing at the end of my pencil, I stared down at the paper with its heavy drawn lines. In some spots, I had gone over the lines so intently, it wore away the paper, causing a thin rip. And it was all
his
fault. My strange date with Zander hadn’t helped. As soon as my mind began to drift, images of Zane plagued me. It was simple to blame my confused state on the trauma of losing my mom, but that wasn’t the truth. The truth was…I didn’t know what the truth was.

That had to change.

If my life was in danger, I had a right to know why, and it made me wonder what kind of trouble my mom had been mixed up in. Had it followed me here? Was I safe? Where was my father in all of this? Gallivanting around Europe, while I dodged bullets.

Frustrated with this place, with my dad, with Zane, and with myself, I tossed the pencil in my hand across the room in a moment of rage. It hit the glass doors with a
whack
. The tiny tantrum did absolutely nothing to alleviate my exasperation and confusion.

But that was all about to change, because there was a figure staring at me through the glass.

Soaking wet, Zane stood outside on the terrace, peering in at me through a blurry curtain of water droplets. There was an amused smirk on his lips at witnessing my pencil toss. His cockiness almost made me leave him on the balcony, getting plummeted by the storm. I might have if I wasn’t bored to tears. Setting aside my pad of paper, I pushed off the bed and padded to the double doors.

I flipped the lock. “What are you doing here?” I demanded, tugging him inside my room by the front of his water logged T-shirt.

He shook his hair, spraying me with beads of water. “You want the truth, don’t you?”

Frowning, I swallowed. He was offering me the very thing I’d been complaining about moments ago. Then why was I suddenly scared? “I think you owe me that much.”

He let out a half laugh. “I did just stand in the rain trying to get your attention. That has to count for something.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, doing my damnedest not to be swept away by his dimples. “But first, let me get you a towel. You are making a mess of my floors.” And then maybe my mind would stop having impure thoughts about Zane wet, and how his shirt was so plastered against his chest that I could make out the lines of his abs.

Yum.

I scurried off to the bathroom before I started to lick the water off his neck and grabbed one of the white towels. Reemerging into the room, I tossed it at Zane who was flipping through the pages of my discarded sketchpad. “Hey!”

“Are these of me?”

“Do you always go through people’s personal stuff?” I snatched the pad from under his grasp, tossing it facedown on the bed.

His grin grew. “Usually.”

I felt infinitely red. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because you think you’ve got me all figured out, but you’re about to find out how wrong you are.” Something flickered over his face. Anger? Regret? Sadness? “I just hope when I’m finished, you won’t be drawing me in a different light.”

It was hard for me to believe he was worried I would look at him differently. “I doubt it can be worse than what I already think.”

He worked his hand over his jawline, day old stubble shadowing his face. “Remember, you asked for it.” Taking a step forward, he invaded my personal bubble.

My head tilted back, keeping my gaze latched on the most astonishing shade of blue. Our faces were perfectly lined up, and the glint in his eyes made it difficult to remember what we had been talking about. His hand slid to my lower back. “I have something to admit.”

I pulled back a little, fighting a grin. “That you’re an assmunch?”

He chuckled. “Do you remember when I said I didn’t like you?”

“How could I forget?”

He regained the tiny space I’d put between us, his hand following up the line of my spine. “I lied.”

The muscles low in my stomach tightened.

His lips brushed against the curve of my cheek. “I think you are beautiful,” he whispered, the coolness of his breath teasing my skin.

I bit back a gasp. That was not what I’d expected.

I forced my tongue to work. “Thank you?”

He lowered his head, our mouths a mere centimeter apart, and I thought for sure he was going to kiss me. His nose rubbed against the tip of mine, and my heart thundered out of excitement. There was also a different kind of emotion I couldn’t identify. Whatever it was, it came out of nowhere—raw and potent.

“Piper?”

I shook my glossy eyes. “Did you say something?”

There was an intense, searing look in his expression. “You should probably have a seat,” he said, dropping the hand from the small of my back.

“Uh, what?”

“Trust me. What I’m about to tell you, will knock you off your feet.”

Oookay. Now I was starting to get nervous. I sat on the edge of my bed, tucking my feet underneath me as he sat on the other side, putting distance between us. Good thing my senses were on overdrive from the almost kiss. It occurred to me that we were alone in my room, and my hands automatically went to my hair, smoothing the flyaways. I was rocking some serious second day hair. “What made you change your mind?” I asked, getting back to business. He had been very obstinate in his resistance to tell me anything.

He didn’t smile or frown, only watched me with intense eyes. “I decided to stop giving a damn. It’s becoming difficult to hide what I am, and you are in more danger not knowing.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to scare me? It’s not going to work, you know. I have seen too many horrors to be frightened easily.”

Lightning slashed wildly, illuminating the room. “Good, because what I am about to tell you not only puts me in danger, I am breaking a sacred oath. But before there is another attempt on your life—”

“Another?” I interrupted.

His blue eyes hit mine. “I’ll admit, at first I thought you were playing with me, pretending not to know.”

My heart trembled. “Know what?”

“I’m getting to it. This is just the beginning, Princess. There is no going back.”

“I don’t see how I have much of a choice. I’m involved whether I want to be or not. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Pained concern showed in his expression. “I can’t. You are the heart of it all.”

A burst of fluttering panic tumbled in my belly. “Great,” I said drolly. “Why me?”

“I’m working up to it.”

I rolled my eyes. “That was a rhetorical question.”

His brows dropped as he stared over my shoulder, several silent moments passing. “I never claimed the truth was going to be easy. It is going to seem damn near impossible, and honestly, I’m not even sure you will believe me.”

Folding my hands in my lap, I replied, “Try me.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, damp strands of hair curling. “I don’t think I have a choice. Telling you feels right, no matter how wrong it is.”

“What are you?” I asked, confused. He looked uncomfortable, and I suppressed the urge to tuck the stray curl behind his ear.

Zane let out a heavy sigh. “I am a weapon, a death reaper. My father is
the
Grim Reaper,” he stated matter-of-factly, his eyes on me, watching for my grand reaction.

I gave him one. “Excuse me?” I shrieked. My hands no longer idle.

He combed his fingers through his storm-blown hair. “I didn’t stutter, Princess.”

I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, feeling irked by the stupid nickname he refused to drop. “Yeah, but I was hoping you were pulling my leg,” I said lamely. “
Really
? The freaking Grim Reaper? That is the best you could come up with?”

His expression hadn’t changed. Somber. Stagnant. Grim (pun intended). “I warned you.” His accent came through heavier the darker his voice got.

I lunged off the bed, unable to sit anymore. “Well, I actually thought you were going to tell me the truth and not feed me some bullshit story.”

He grabbed my wrist.

Wrong move.

I was feeling jazzed up. Now was not the time to lay a hand on me. Static bolted at his touch. I yanked back, expecting more of a struggle. Stumbling, I managed to keep on my feet without falling on my ass and looking like a dipshit, except I was closer to Zane. Much too close.

“Piper.” He turned me to face him, my leg bumping into his knee. “Look at me. Really look at me. Do you honestly think I would lie to you, especially about something like this?”

I cupped my elbows, trying to sort through the mountain of doubts. “No. I don’t know,” I retracted, my mind spinning. “I am not naïve or stupid, regardless of what you think of me.” He already jumped to all likes of wrong assumptions about me.

The heat from his thigh seared through the material of my jeans. Neither of us moved away. “The world is filled with impossibilities. Life itself is an impossibility, why is it such a stretch to believe there are other beings that live among the humans?”

Every logical part of me was screaming
no
. “Okay, I’ll play. What other beings are there?”

“How much time do you have?”

I shot him a dirty look.

“That was uncalled for,” he said in what I guessed was supposed to be a sorry excuse for an apology. “I just can’t seem to help myself around you. You tend to bring out the best in me.”

My lips lifted partially. “I think we have that effect on each other.”

Unknowingly, he twined our fingers together. “You’ve seen the proof. In your heart, you know that what I say is true.”

Understanding dawned. “The eyes.”

He rubbed the back of my hand. “There’s that.”

“What else?” I couldn’t hide the interest from my voice. Once I got over the shock, the denial, my mind opened, and answers to a few burning questions began to unravel. Yet, it was still dream-like, unreal.

He gave a one-shoulder shrug, nonchalantly. “I have superior ass-kicking skills.”

“Oh, so you’re like Dean Winchester,” I added, being a smartass.

His blue eyes were baffled. “Uh, who?”

I shook my head, thinking if any place could use the skills of the Winchesters, it was this island. “Never mind. Obviously, no one here watches TV,” I mumbled. “Are there others like you?”

“More than you can imagine. I have been trained to fight from the time I could walk, honing my skills.”

My mouth dropped open. Part of me was awed by what he was telling me. I was fascinated by him and had been from the first moment, but I was also leery. “I don’t understand. How can that be?” I plopped back down on the bed, dazed.

“How is the sky blue or the grass green? How is the earth round? It just is. Not everything in the universe makes sense. There is a Heaven. There is a Hell. And there are reapers. Life. Death. Chaos. Sometimes those lines get gray or even cross.”

“You referred to yourself as a weapon. Why?” My heart pounded inside my chest as violently as the rain.

His hands rubbed down his thighs as he took a seat. “We all have a purpose. The death reapers or Black Crows as many call us, are the only reapers that can destroy a soul. And when we take a soul, we absorb the essence of the soul. I told you from the get go I was trouble.”

“Black Crow? Like the mark on your wrist?” The dots started to connect.

He nodded. “Most humans can’t see spirits. They don’t allow their mind to be open to such possibilities, such evil. But you, you’ve seen the horrors of the world. It makes the veil thin, allowing you to see what we keep hidden. Our marks. Our eyes. The color of our blood. All the things that brand us as supernaturals. There are four sectors. Death. Soul. Phantom. Banshee. A banshee resonates the balance between sectors. Without the last, Earth would be nothing but pandemonium. Mankind would be extinct.”

“Holy shit. Let me get this straight. You’re saying there are ghosts running around? And you kill souls?”

“In a gist. If we didn’t do what we were trained to do, then the hallows would cause destruction this world has never seen. We keep the malevolent souls at bay, hunting them. There are souls who don’t leave this realm peacefully and need to be destroyed. They are called hallows.”

It was impossible to keep the doubt from my face. “You’re a r-reaper.” I couldn’t even say the word.

A wall went up, his eyes hardening. And just when I thought we were tearing them down. “I am. And not just any reaper.”

I could barely breathe. A reaper? Holy buckets. I almost preferred the world through my rose-colored glasses. Knowing there were
things
out there causing horror was giving me a panic attack.