Ruin's Lot (Reaper's Hollow Book 1)

by ID Johnson

  The welcoming committee met them on the porch. Rider and Cutter were both out the door before they even reached the steps. “Hey, there!” Rider called. “Long time no see.” He spread his arms, and Ru dutifully stepped into a hug, not exactly sure why they would normally be so friendly. They’d only met each other once. Of course, in his mind, she was the Holy Grail.

  “Nice to see you,” she said as he released her.

  Cutter was not quite as enthusiastic, timidly hanging back a bit. “Hi, Ru,” he said, a cautious smile on his face. He didn’t hug her, but he did pat her on the shoulder. “Doin’ all right?”

  “Just great,” she said, trying to be as friendly as possible.

  “That’s good to hear.” He walked alongside her until they reached the door and then he pushed it open for her to go through before allowing Lyric in and following, Rider in the rear. “Ivy is cooking dinner. It should be just about done.”

  Whatever she was making, it smelled delicious, and Ru felt her stomach rumble. She hadn’t eaten too much that day; she’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of Kyle. “Great. I’m starving,” she said, smiling politely. She began to twist her hands, not sure what to do or what to say.

  “You’re here!” Ivy entered the room half running, half sliding. “Hi, Ru!” She stretched her arms open as she collided with Ru, who had little choice but to hug her back. Since she couldn’t remember anyone ever seeming so happy to see her, she couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm.

  “It’s nice to see you, Ivy.” Regardless of what she thought about this group’s mission as a whole, Ivy really did seem like a genuinely nice person.

  “I hope you like lasagna because that’s what I’m making. It’s a secret family recipe, and it is so good!”

  “I love lasagna,” Ru nodded.

  “Perfect! It’ll be done in a few minutes. Of course, it’ll need to cool…”

  “How long until food, Ivy?” Rider demanded.

  With a school-girl giggle, she said, “Let’s say fifteen minutes.”

  Rider nodded like he might be able to stand a rumbling tummy until then, and Ivy skittered back off toward the kitchen.

  “What can I get you to drink, Ru?” Cutter asked, taking a few steps toward the kitchen.

  “Oh, uh, water’s fine.”

  “Ice?”

  “Sure.” She forced a smile, but she knew he could see right through it.

  “Well, have a seat,” Rider insisted, gesturing toward a nearby plush, beige sofa.

  This was not the room they’d chatted in before, and Ru was pretty sure it had been empty the last time she was here. Sitting down on the couch, she looked up at the ceiling and could see all the crown molding was new. “Did you do that?” she asked, pointing with her head.

  “Sure did,” Rider replied, a proud look on his face. “And painted. And refinished the floors.”

  The walls were a soft gray-blue that complimented the furniture nicely, which was all deep beige in a shade slightly darker than the flooring. “It looks really great,” she nodded.

  “Thankya,” Rider said, beaming. “I figure I ain’t got much else to do.”

  Lyric growled and rolled her eyes. “Don’t. The word is don’t. Why do you talk like that?”

  “Sorry. Guess we can’t all be as good with words as you are, Lyric.”

  Ru couldn’t help but laugh at the terrible pun, which made Rider wink at her.

  “Don’t encourage him,” Lyric insisted, taking a seat in a chair near the sofa where Ru was perched.

  “I think you mean ‘ain’t’ encourage him.”

  Once again, Ru found herself laughing, despite her situation. Before the two could continue their antics, Cutter returned with her water. “Sorry. Got sidetracked.”

  “Ivy ask you to baste something or butter something?” Rider asked, picking up a beer bottle off of the table next to him and taking a drink.

  “Butter and garlic,” Cutter nodded.

  “Well, when we are enjoying that deliciousness in a bit, we will all thank you for your contribution.” Lyric’s comment filled an otherwise quiet void. The room shifted from somewhat playful to uncomfortable the second Cutter sat down on the couch a full cushion away from Ru.

  After a painfully long silence, Ru cleared her throat and timidly asked, “So… angels drink beer?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Rider replied. “Show me in the New Testament where it says you can’t.”

  He was more diplomatic than defensive, but Ru was still surprised.

  “And where the hell in the Bible does it say you can’t say shit?” Rider continued. “I mean, it’s just stringing some letters together. The Bible wasn’t even written in English so how can we not say whatever the hell we want to?”

  “So long as you don’t take the Lord’s name in vain?”

  Rider shrugged. “Yeah, I know it says that. But that’s the Old Testament. I’m more of a New Testament kinda angel.” He winked at her again, and Ru began to feel a bit charmed in an older-brother, cool-uncle sort of way.

  “We do a lot of things the Bible says we’re not supposed to in one testament or another,” Cutter stated. “We aren’t perfect. But then, no one ever said we had to be.”

  “Hmmm,” Ru replied, mulling that over. This information went against everything Liddy Brown had ever pounded into her head growing up.

  “Ivy will kill us if we get too deep into anything without her out here,” Lyric reminded the gentlemen. “But we are dying to see your scars.”

  Ru’s eyes opened widely. “My scars?” she repeated. “Why would you need to see my scars?” She had been trying to hide them her whole life. Why would she intentionally show them to anyone.

  “To see if we can decipher them,” Lyric explained with a small shrug, like it was not a big deal.

  “What do you mean?”

  Lyric looked at Cutter, as if she was somehow asking permission to proceed, despite the fact that Ivy was in the kitchen. He nodded. “All of us are named for the shape of our scars. When we’re born, our parents look at our scars and determine what our name should be.”

  Once again, Ru was having trouble understanding what she was hearing. “So you all have them, too?”

  “Yes,” Cutter replied. “That’s how I knew you had them.”

  “Right.” She’d remembered him mentioning them once before, but she hadn’t realized literally all of the Keepers had them. “What are they from?”

  The three looked at each other for a second, as if they were silently debating who should tell her. “Wings,” Cutter finally responded.

  Ru turned to face him. “What’s that?”

  “They’re from where our wings would’ve been attached, if we were full-fledged angels instead of only half. We can’t have wings, so we have scars instead.” Cutter said it as if it should make perfect sense to anyone

  “But that implies that we once had wings,” Ru reasoned.

  “We don’t honestly know why we keep the scars.” Lyric leaned forward in her chair, as if to say she understood what a difficult concept it was to understand. “But all Keepers do.”

  “And so do Reapers,” Rider added.

  It took Ru a moment to digest that information. After a few moments, she nodded and said, “And all of your scars look like your names?” She was so confused.

  “To our parents,” Cutter nodded. “Obviously, they often have their own interpretation.”

  “So your parents thought it looked like someone had randomly cut you?” she asked, looking into Cutter’s eyes.

  Her question brought a snicker from Lyric and then an apology.

  “No,” Cutter replied. “My mom said my scars look like the blades of twin knives. So she was torn between Cutter and Blade.”

  “Thank God she didn’t name you Blade,” Rider said, also finding humor in a story he’d likely heard a million times before.

  “And what about you?” Ru asked, looking at the taller blond fellow. “Why Rider?”


  “Horses hoofs, I guess,” he shrugged. “My mother may have also had a drinking problem.” Seeing he was joking, Ru giggled. “You laugh, but you should see my sister Blotchy’s back.”

  That had the entire room erupting in laughter. Over the noise, Lyric shouted, “He doesn’t even have a sister,” and tossed a throw pillow at him, which he caught with one hand.

  Once she’d regained her composure, Ru turned to Lyric. “So yours is obvious, I guess. And so is Ivy’s.”

  “Yep. My mom said it looked like I had music carved into my back. And Ivy’s looks like… ivy.”

  Ru nodded. “And so mine is, what?”

  “Runes, I guess,” Cutter said with a shrug. “We won’t know until we look.”

  “And that’s… ancient writing of some sort?”

  “Yep,” Rider confirmed. “And we’re hoping it’s an important message that will give us some direction.”

  “But how is that possible? It’s not like my mom could’ve scratched her location into my back.”

  “No, but it is possible that Raphael or someone else sent us a message that way,” Cutter said. “We won’t know until we look at it and see what we can decipher. It might not even be recognizable.”

  “Why would he do that?” Ru wondered aloud. “You said you can talk to him, right? Through visions or something? Why not just tell you whatever he needed to that way?”

  Once again, there was a collective shrug. “We’re not sure, but for your mother to name you that, there has to be something unusual about your scars.” Lyric’s eyes seemed gentle, but it didn’t stop Ru’s mind from running a million miles a minute.

  Before she could ask any more questions, Ivy hopped in and announced dinner was ready, and they all headed toward the formal dining room, which was set with the finest dishes Ru had ever seen. She was almost afraid to use the crystal for fear she’d find a way to break it. She took a seat next to Cutter, thankful that the tension seemed to have lessened a bit, but she was still anxious. Clearly, these people were about to tell her things she did not want to hear.

  Dinner was punctuated with lively conversation, mostly from Rider with the rest of them finding a way to add a word or two when he paused to shovel lasagna into his mouth. Ivy really was an excellent cook, and Ru finished the entire piece she’d been given, despite the fact that it was pretty large. She also had a couple of pieces of Cutter’s exceptionally buttered garlic bread.

  “I made tiramisu for dessert!” Ivy called, a large smile on her face.

  “That sounds delicious,” Ru said, setting her napkin aside, “but I might have to wait a while. I don’t think I have anywhere to put it.”

  “Why don’t we go chat for a little while, and then we’ll see about dessert?” Cutter offered.

  Ru wasn’t sure who “we” was, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to eat one more bite, so she nodded. He stood, and so did she, following him out of the room. When no one else got up, she realized they’d already planned it this way. He’d talk to her first, and then the rest of them would come in, if she made it through the entire conversation, which she hadn’t last time.

  Cutter led her back into the parlor where they’d been the time before, which was a bit cozier than the formal living room. She noticed the walls were painted a bright coral color and knew Rider had been working in here, though she still couldn’t recall what the wallpaper Cutter had mentioned before might’ve looked like. He sat down on the couch, and she took a spot a few feet away from him.

  “Man, that was good,” he said, rubbing his belly, which Ru was certain was still at least a six pack beneath his blue flannel shirt.

  “It was,” she agreed, straightening her black knee-length skirt. She was uncomfortable again, just sitting with him, but she was doing her best not to let him see it, though she was fairly certain he could.

  “How was your, uh, date?” he asked as if it was somehow painful for him to say.

  Surprised at the question and his tone, Ru wasn’t sure how to reply. “It was good. Thanks.” She hoped that was sufficient, but there was something in his eyes that caught her off guard. Just as he had seemed upset when she’d first told him she was busy and couldn’t come over the night before. Perhaps he just didn’t want her spending her time doing anything other than fighting evil.

  Cutter nodded and then cleared his throat. “Well, uh, I have something I want to show you. Someone back home sent it to me. It took a lot of searching, but I think it’ll be worth it.”

  Ru was extremely interested in whatever it was he had to show her. He reached over the arm of the couch and dug around in something she couldn’t see for a moment, a basket or bag perhaps, and pulled out a large manila envelope.

  “What’s this?” she asked, taking it from him hesitantly.

  “Open it,” he insisted.

  Ru took a deep breath and stared at the package for a moment. It was unsealed. She had no idea what it might be, but she needed to know, even though she had a feeling in her gut nothing would be the same after this, no matter how badly she wanted it to be.

  She reached inside and pulled out a photograph. It was a bit grainy and a little yellow, which told her it was aged, but the face staring up at her instantly filled her eyes with tears. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, her free hand covering her mouth.

  Bright blue eyes, a smile that radiated kindness, blonde, curly hair that framed her lovely face. The light was behind her, illuminating her crown so that she truly looked like an angel. Ru had seen this face before, a thousand times, in her dreams. All those years, whenever this image would conjure itself up in her mind’s eye, she had assumed it was only what she wanted to see. But she really did remember seeing the face of her mother.

  It took her a moment to compose herself. Cutter handed her some tissue, which she used to swipe at the tears cascading down her cheeks. When they wouldn’t stop, he slid over and put his arm around her. He didn’t speak at all, only gave her as much time as she needed to get her emotions back under control. Once she began to be able to breathe again, the tears tapered off. She set the picture on top of the coffee table in front of her and continued to stare at it for several minutes. Eventually, her voice still trembling, she asked, “Where did you get it?”

  “From your grandmother,” Cutter replied, softly. His hand was still on her shoulder.

  She turned to look at him. “My… grandmother?”

  He nodded. “She didn’t think she had any of her as an adult. Things weren’t exactly good between the two of them. Sera was always a bit of a rebel. But she finally found it.”

  “I have a grandmother?”

  “Yes.”

  Ru could hardly believe it. Somewhere out there, a woman existed who had the same DNA as her. “Is she… human?”

  Cutter smiled. “She is. Your grandfather was not.”

  Though she nodded, a thousand questions clouded her mind. “He’s a Keeper?”

  “Was,” Cutter corrected, his voice filled with a hint of sadness. “He died when Sera was young.”

  Ru couldn’t help but be disappointed to hear that. She’d hoped to meet both of her grandparents on her mother’s side if it was possible. “So… even though he was only half-angel, and my grandmother was human, Sera was still a full Keeper. Not diluted or anything?”

  “No. Once you have angel blood in your system, there’s no diluting.”

  “Right.” She did her best to process that, but at the moment, everything seemed a bit hazy. She shifted her gaze from Cutter’s eyes back to Sera’s face, her mother’s face. “And… my father’s parents? His father is a Reaper, too? But his mother was human?”

  “Yes.”

  Again, she nodded. “Is she still alive?”

  Cutter took a deep breath. “Yes, but she’s in an institution. Larkin’s father is an incubus. Do you know what that is?”

  Her first answer was a rock band, but then Ru remembered what it actually was. “So he took advantage of her in her sleep? And my father
was a product of that?”

  Once again, his answer was a sympathetic, “Yes.”

  “That’s awful.” Ru couldn’t even imagine something like that could happen, particularly since she hadn’t even thought demons or angels were real until a few weeks ago, and even now there were times she wasn’t sure.

  “Ru, there’s a strong indication that Larkin revealed the location of the remaining three portals to your mother. We don’t know for sure, but we need to find out. If your mother can help us locate the portals, we can banish the Reapers who are traveling back and forth to Hell once and for all, and they won’t be able to get out or we can track them down and destroy them here, leaving only those who are claiming marked souls and are mandated by God.”

  Lost in thoughts of her poor grandmother, Ru hardly heard him. It took her a moment to process what he was saying. “And my father would be trapped down there forever?” She couldn’t help but wonder if somehow it had been a huge mistake. How could someone as lovely as Seraphina fall in love with a demon? Larkin couldn’t be all bad, could he? What was it Thanatos had said? “A villain is only a hero whose story is yet to be told.”

  “What’s that?” Cutter asked, leaning toward her.

  Ru hadn’t even realized she’d spoken aloud. “Nothing,” she replied. “Cutter, if I agree to help you find my mother—and that’s a big ‘if’—I haven’t decided anything yet—but if I do, you have to promise me you’ll let me meet him before we close up all of the portals.”

  “Ru, that would require you to travel to Hell, you realize?”

  “Is it possible?”

  “I don’t think you understand what you’d be getting yourself into…”

  “Is it possible?” Her question was more forceful this time.

  “Yes, it’s possible,” Cutter assured her.

  “And you’ll do it?”

  He held her gaze for a long moment before slowly nodding. “I will. I promise.”

  Ru inhaled deeply. It was easy to forget all of this when she was at school or at her own home. When she’d been with Kyle, she didn’t even think about being a Keeper or fighting to save souls. Talking to Thanatos had confused her, and Cutter’s explanations weren’t helping any. She ran a hand through her hair, wondering if any of it would ever make sense.