White Raven (19 page)

“Is it safe?” I whispered.

Nodding, he peered down at me. “Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair. “They’re gone.”

Frustration whipped through me. “What the hell was that?”

He seemed to be wrestling with just how much to tell me, and I knew I wasn’t going to like it. “I thought it was pretty obvious. Your grandma is going to do whatever she can to ensure we don’t cross the friend boundary.”

Too late. “That’s not what I meant. How were you in my head? How was I in your head? Is it a reaper thing?”

A dabble of moonlight lit the side of his angled face. “Yes and no.”

“Huh? Specifics.”

“I wasn’t finished.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, are you going to get on with it, or just torture me?”

“You are so—”

I pinched him.

He couldn’t hide his amusement at my knee-jerk reaction. “You really are a pain in my ass.”

“Zane,” I growled, wading out of the water to the shore. I’d lost my flip-flops in the waves and couldn’t care less. Sand sticking to my feet, I wasn’t surprised to see Zane had beaten me.

“It’s called soul symmetry,” he told me.

“Is that like one of your super powers?” I was feeling prickly.

His lips twitched. “Funny. The fact that you can associate what I do as super powers shows how much you don’t know about me. Or how seriously dangerous you don’t find me.”

I shrugged, pretending I was freaked out. “You are just the lesser of two evils.”

The bottom of his frayed jeans were soaked, but he didn’t seemed to mind. “I might not understand your logic, but you’re probably right. And before you ask, soul symmetry is the converging of two compatible souls.”

“Our souls mesh?” Sweet. Baby. Jesus.

“More or less. It synchronizes the wavelengths of our souls, allowing me to extend or share my abilities with you. But it only works when two souls are a match.”

“Our souls are a match?” I asked in disbelief.

He tilted his face to the side. “Did you hit your head?”

My eyes shrunk, giving him a dirty glare. “Give me a second to process. This is a lot to take in. How did you know our souls were a match?”

“What does it matter?” he shot back. “I took a risk, and luckily, it paid off.”

A risk?
That had an appalling ring to it. “And if we weren’t a match?”

If I hadn’t spent hours studying his face in my head, drawing it on paper, I wouldn’t have seen it, the smallest infliction of concern in his eyes. “I would have forced the symmetry. It would have been very uncomfortable. Painful even.”

“Peachy. Sounds enjoyable.”

He wasn’t daunted by my response. “You and I might not always see eye to eye, but apparently our souls are in tune.”

I brushed my hair back. “I’m not sure how I feel about you taking that gamble without my consent. Actually, it pisses me off.”

The corners of his lips twitched. “No need to get your panties in a wad, Princess. It worked, didn’t it? No permanent damage done. Not to be a killjoy, but we have bigger problems anyway.”

Yeah, I couldn’t get the sound of his voice out of my head. That was a problem. It left a mark, and I was certain it would linger for days. Weeks. Months. He had the kind of voice that wasn’t easily forgotten. Cursed accent.

Focus, Piper.

“I don’t understand why I’m a target. Why would anyone what to hurt me? Hurt my mom?”

A fierce glow filled his eyes. “No one is going to lay a hand on you,” he swore, half growl, half oath.

“You can’t be with me 24-7. Why do you care, anyway?”

“I don’t know. I just do,” he replied flatly.

My hands went to my hips. “That’s not even an answer.”

A muscle ticked under his eye.

“Okay, fine,” I said, accepting he wasn’t going to expand. “But won’t you be putting yourself in danger then?” Why would he do that?

“I’m a badass. There’s no other way to say it. I’m the best at what I do. Too good, maybe.” He wasn’t bragging, just stating a fact. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

There was that arrogance again. “A badass, huh?” I stated, using my foot to brush the drying sand from my toes.

“Oh, you know it. I’m
the
badass. It’s just—”

My lashes fluttered. “It’s just what?”

His eyes flashed as he took a step toward me. “For the first time in my life, I wish I was something else.”

Gulp.

Why did I get the feeling that his desire to be someone else had everything to do with me? “Why do you keep doing that?”

Stretching out his arms, he asked, “What exactly am I doing that is pissing you off so much?”

“Everything!” I exclaimed, my heel digging into the ground.

He wore a menacing grin. “You know you like me. Just admit it.”

Humph
. I would do no such thing. “I like you about as much as I like sardines.”

Zane tipped forward, closing the space between us. “Don’t make me make a liar out of you.”

What could I say? If he kissed me right now, I wouldn’t stop him, and I probably would have thoroughly enjoyed myself. “You suck.”

He laughed. “Piper, we are suffering from the same affliction. I like you, but I don’t
want
to like you. There’s a difference.”

Chapter 19

It was dark when I tiptoed into the kitchen. The huge house took some maneuvering, but I managed to get there without waking the dead or the sleeping staff.

My stomach rumbled, as if I needed a reminder that I was hungry.

Starved, actually.

Soul sharing evidently did that to me, not a pleasant side effect for my figure, especially when it was junk I was craving.

My taste buds sung when I spotted a box of Lucky Charms in the pantry. Score. The cereal pieces clunked in the bowl as I poured. Splashing on the milk, I grabbed a spoon and took a seat at one of the stools.

The first bite, filled of marshmallow goodness, was halfway to my mouth when Estelle walked in.

“Did you save me a bowl?”

I stuck the spoon in my mouth, grinning. “Maybe,” I said, chomping.

She took a seat next to me, and I slid her the half-empty box. “So you’re still sneaking out with reaper boy?”

My spoon clattered into my bowl. “What did you say?”

She bumped my shoulder with hers. “I thought he… As much time the two of you seem to spend together, I just assumed he told you.”

I shook my head, clearing the shock from my brain cells. “No, he did. I just can’t believe that you know. Gawd, does everyone on this island know?”

Sneaking a marshmallow from my bowl, she said, “Pretty much.”

“Even Rose?”

Swallowing, she confirmed, “Definitely Rose.”

I couldn’t believe it. But really, after what I’d overheard today, I shouldn’t have been surprised. The bigger question was why hadn’t she told me? Why did she insist we stay with her? Why? Why? Why? “I think she is trying to drive me insane,” I mumbled, pushing my spoon around in the cereal.

“Believe it or not, Raven Hallow is probably the safest place for you.”

“Why, because if I die, there will be a reaper close by?” I replied testily.

She grinned. “Morbid, but true.”

Learning that Estelle and most of the island knew about the wonders of the world, I immediately thought about TJ. “What about my brother? Does he know?”

She stuck her hand into the box, forgoing a bowl and milk. “Nope, I don’t believe so. He is way too absorbed with his Xbox, playing Diablo.”

Amen to that.

I exhaled. “Good. Let’s hope it stays that way.” I turned in my chair now that she had my undivided attention. “Have you always known there were reapers?”

She popped a handful of cereal into her mouth. “I was born and raised here. There are many who never talk about it and think it’s better to sweep it all under the rug. Then there are the elders like my Nana.” Swallowing, she continued. “She explained the inner workings of life and death, educating me on the rules of the island.”

“God, this is so surreal.”

Tucking a foot underneath her leg, she shook a small pile of cereal on the counter and nibbled on a pink heart-shaped marshmallow. “Raven Hallow is like the hub for reapers. They are free to travel where they please, go where the souls call them, but it is this island that they all come back to. Especially, if they are summoned.”

“Summoned?” I was on the edge of my seat.

She lined up the little pieces of cereal, grouping them by color. “Yeah. Now that is a trip. If you ever get the chance, you have got to see it. Imagine this tiny island crowded with the most lethal soul eaters.”

“Nah. I’d rather pass. Does a summoning happen often?” Because surely, this was one convention I wanted to skip.

Her shoulders shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s only happened once in my Nana’s lifetime.”

My appetite vanished, and I pushed away my half-eaten bowl. “So you haven’t actually seen one?”

“Nope, but the stories are pretty frightening.”

This conversation was like watching a slasher flick before bed. Disturbing and fretful. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep a wink tonight.

Sitting on my bed, surrounding by discarded wads of failed sketches and a rainbow of colored pencils, the creative juices weren’t flowing tonight. My mind was too busy, bouncing from one thought to the next, never settling.

I had not felt utter peace since I arrived in Raven Hallow. Coinkydink? Please. I didn’t think coincidences lived here.

Raven Hallow was filled with ghosts.

Raven Hallow was filled with secrets.

Raven Hallow was filled with death.

A text came through as I was gnawing on the end of my pencil. It was Parker. We’d been conversing back and forth for the last hour. It hadn’t helped. Parker was like my security blanket—my crutch. I leaned on him—depended on him, except I couldn’t share what was really on my mind. For the first time in our friendship, I wasn’t able to open up and be honest with Parker. No way was I willing to get him mixed up in my messy, sticky, gooey life here.

He would never have believed me anyway.

So I kept our texts to safe, boring topics, like the weather, my non-existent tan, and whether or not I’d survive the summer. But what he didn’t know was I meant that literally. It was always there, lurking in the back of my mind, that someone wanted me dead. My mom had been murdered, and I felt like nowhere was safe, but maybe being surround by reapers had its perks.

It was becoming more and more clear that my mom’s death hadn’t been a random shooting. Call it intuition, or the will of a determined daughter, but I knew there was something brewing and the reapers were involved.

A chill scurried over my skin, sending a wave of goose bumps down my spine. I shivered, and my pencil froze on paper.
What now?
Glancing up, eight beady eyes leveled with my nose. I let out a high-pitch shriek. From a thin web of string, dangled the worst kind of intruder. A spider. Charlotte and her web had to go.

Darting off the bed, I did an epic heebie-jeebies wiggled dance, which sadly did nothing to stop the skin crawling. If anything, eerie joined the tingles, and I knew Charlotte and I weren’t the only ones here. Fear became a tangible force inside me, and I couldn’t move a muscle. Once I turned around, that would be it. There would be no going back, and whatever was waiting for me, I would have to deal with. On the other hand, it could be Zane. Or it could be…

Crossing my fingers and my toes, I took a deep breath and turned.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

A month ago, I would have thought I was seeing a ghost or a spirit, but I would have also assumed that someone had drugged me, and what I was seeing was a figment of a bad trip. Now, I knew the world was full of shit I’d never fully comprehend, and that thing outside my bedroom window was a pissed-off dead girl, looking to steal my soul.

I was pretty partial to my soul. I wanted it to stay intact.

So why did I find myself walking toward the glass doors? Why wasn’t I running to find Rose? What was it about this girl that made me want to risk my life’s essence?

As I got closer, a silent scream stuck in my throat.

It couldn’t be.

Could it?

Staring through the glass, a full panic rushed through me. She wasn’t a girl at all. Long blonde hair billowed in the wind, surrounding a face I knew was well as my own. There was a ghostly glow to her skin, a paleness that was unearthly. It was her clothes that cinched it for me. The jeans and the purple turtleneck were stamped into my memory.

I pressed my hand to the glass. “Mom?”

Even as the word left my mouth, I knew she wasn’t really here, yet it still didn’t stop me from doing something reckless. She was dead. In my head, I knew she was dead, that she wasn’t really here, but seeing someone I had wished every freaking night to see again was a temptation I couldn’t resist.

Restless soul or ghost, it didn’t matter. I needed to talk to her.

My hand flipped the lock, ignoring that instinctual warning that was screaming at me not to open the door. She said something, but I couldn’t hear, so I threw open the door.

I should have exercised more caution.

I should have known that karma was going to kick me in the gut.

I should have trusted my instincts.

Maybe they hadn’t left me completely, because instead of throwing myself into her arms like I wanted to, I stepped out onto the terrace. “Mom, what are you doing here? How are you here?”

She said nothing, and the sad, concerned look in her eyes turned menacing. A dense fog blanketed at her feet, rising up our legs. It was cool against my bare skin.

“Mom?” I said with hesitation, taking a step back. Prickles of unease and uncertainty tiptoed down my neck.

Then, like out of a bad science fiction movie, the figure that I desperately wanted to be my mom, dead or ghost, it didn’t matter, started to blur before me. The lines of her heart-shaped faced widened at the jaw, turning more round. Blonde hair turned a sassy red. She grew an inch or two taller and thinned out in the waist.

Bolting inside would have been a sane person’s immediate reaction. Not mine. I stood there gaping like an idiot, eyes bulging and mouth hanging open. As soon as I saw the blue sparrow, dreaded reality set in.

Reaper.

I screamed for real this time, the tangy taste of fear coating my insides.

For all the good it did me.

There was no one around, nothing but twilight.

“You gave in so easily.” She tilted her head. “I have to say I’m kind of disappointed.”

“What do you want?” I asked in a much braver voice than I was feeling. Inside, I was quaking. The last Blue Sparrow I had encountered tried to kill me. She must be a shifter. That was pretty f-ed up.

How could I be so dumb? So gullible? Why not give her my soul on a freaking silver platter for her to devour? I didn’t have time to berate myself—she was advancing on me.

“Not much. Just your soul, little Raven.” Her violet eyes flamed.

My window of escape was closing down on me, and then it slammed shut as my back hit the doorframe.
Shit
. All I could think was stall. “Why would you want
my
soul?”

An evil grin spread over her lips. “You have no idea, do you? That only makes this that much sweeter.” Faster than I anticipated, she reached out, jerking me by my ponytail and snapping my head back. It felt like every tiny hair follicle had been ripped from the scalp.

I refused to cry out. Tears stung my eyes, and I bit my lip until the worst of it subsided. “You bitch,” I cursed. Not exactly the smartest move when she still had my hair in a death grip.

She yanked again, leading me into the bedroom like a pooch. I swung out blindingly, hoping I would get lucky and sock this loco reaper.

Ugh. I needed to work on my aim.

My fist sailed through nothing but air, causing me to lose my balance, which in turn tugged a handful of hair. Fire burned at my scalp.

I was going to be bald and dead.

Joy.

“You’re pathetic,” she hissed, a massive bug up her butt. As if she had to drive home just how superior she was, she shoved me.

I stumbled, nearly toppling onto the bed. My eyes frantically looked for a weapon as she lunged toward me, and in my panicky state, I did the only thing that came to mind. I threw my half-full glass of Dr. Pepper at her face.

What a waste.

Glass shattered on the floor as she fumbled about, rubbing her eyes.

I bet that burned like a mofo.

She wiped at her sticky eyes, flinging dark liquid all over my lavender walls. Rose was going to pitch a fit. I scrambled around the bed, and she stalked me like a cracked-out panther, violet eyes glowing, accented by blue tendrils striking past her fake lashes.

She pounced, catching me in the back with the sole of her canvas sneakers. I guess I should’ve been thankful the bitch wasn’t wearing heels. I landed on my face with the grace of a drunk. Arms flailing, I went down hard, the floor scuffing my elbows and giving me a nasty burn on my cheek. Slivers of broken glass were embedded in my forearms and palms. Son. Of. A. Mother…

Lying flat on my stomach, I groaned, positive I couldn’t move. My body was screaming in agony. The older you were, the harder they fell. This was nothing like falling off my bike at five.

Piper, take a deep breath.

Where had my lady balls gone? I wasn’t going to let this vindictive hooker anywhere near my soul. My brother needed me. And I was far from ready to leave this world. Not yet. Not until I solved the truth about my family. About my mom.

And this skank, she might be my ticket.

She had known to use my mom to get to me, make me let my guard down. Now she was going to pay.

“And you underestimate me.” I swung my foot out, catching her at the back of her kneecap, and watched her go down to the ground.

There was a satisfactory
thwack
, and she let out a howl of pain. “You stupid—”

Ha. Take that reaper bitch, a taste of your own medicine.

There was, however, a flaw in my retaliation. Her recovery time was a thousand times faster than mine.
Can’t a girl catch a break?