Hijinks & Misdemeanors (The Reaper Chronicles Book 2)

by Apryl Baker

  “I love roses.”

  He laughs. “I know. Gramps has been considering giving you some to start your own garden here.”

  “No, Dad’ll just move when he’s reassigned, and whoever moves in the house might not take care of them. I’ll just admire Gramps’.”

  “I’ll tell him. I’m gonna go sweet talk your mama into letting me taste that stuff. I’ve never heard of it, but it smells so good!”

  “I swear, all you think about is food.”

  He rubs his stomach. “Got to feed the beast for football. Coach puts us through it. We need protein to stay awake the rest of the day after weights, practice, and whatever else he decides to do.”

  “You worried about this year?”

  “Worried?”

  “Scouts, Eli…college scouts. You are gonna play for college, right?”

  “That’s the plan. I’m hoping to get into Alpha U. They have the best team around besides Tennessee and Texas. Alabama’s good too.”

  “Ol’ Miss doesn’t make the cut?”

  “Eh, they’re good, but I don’t think I could take the humidity or the heat.”

  “I’m not big on extreme cold or temps like Arizona gets. I do like it here. Even when it’s hot, the mountains always seem to have a cool breeze ready.”

  “Yeah. This place has grown on me.” He sets me down on my bed and tweaks my nose. “Pack a bag or three. Whatever you need. Gramps said he’s fine with you staying as long as you want.”

  “Thanks, Eli.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, go get a shower. You do stink.”

  I throw a pillow at him, which he easily dodges and laughs as he leaves me alone. He doesn’t close the door, and I hear his feet pounding down the stairs in his haste to get back to the kitchen and Mom’s cooking. The boy eats more than anyone I know.

  Why didn’t he want me to tell Mom why we’re here? Does he think people are listening? It wouldn’t be a stretch of the imagination. The Army, the military in general, can be shady sometimes. They have the tech, too.

  He’ll tell me when we leave. It takes me a minute to stand up and hobble over to the closet to pull out my big suitcase. It should hold enough clothes for a week and my shampoo and other bathroom stuff. Once I throw everything in, I limp my way to the bathroom. The bites are painful, the area pulsing, but my other leg, the one that was broken in the hit-and-run accident, is what’s hurting more than anything.

  I’m supposed to be walking, but with my cane. Not walking is making the muscles sore. Eli wants to carry me everywhere since both legs are hurt, but he needs to let me walk. I’m going to have to sit him down and explain it to him. He thinks he’s helping, but he’s not. I appreciate the sentiment, and I love the piggyback rides, but I need to walk too.

  The hall bathroom is still the mess it was yesterday. Cecily has makeup scattered all over the countertop, and the curling iron and hairdryer are both plugged in. My sister takes her appearance very seriously. Me, not so much. I’m happy in my comfy clothes, a ponytail or messy bun, and makeup-free pores.

  And that’s probably where the majority of my problems with guys comes into play. I don’t care what I look like. I don’t want to spend an hour every single day on hair and makeup like Cecily does. I’d rather spend five minutes and have time to actually eat breakfast. Especially when school starts back. She barely has time to grab toast on our way out the door. No, thank you. I get sick if I don’t eat.

  I’m diabetic, so eating on a schedule is important to keep my numbers under control. If I skip meals or eat too much sugar or carbs, then I get super sick. Only once did I give in and eat what I wanted when I was twelve. I binged on chocolate cake, pasta, Coke, and donuts. Oh, my God, I love donuts, but I can’t have them. Those twenty minutes of sheer bliss came at the whopping price of a three-day hospital stay. Nope, not happening again.

  Speaking of which, I make a mental note to grab my sugar meter and some extra insulin out of the fridge. I’m sure I have some at Eli’s, but better to be safe than sorry.

  The good thing about this house is it has a gas hot water heater. The water stays hot, no matter how long you might go without turning the hot water on. It’s divine. Eli’s house is not like that. I discovered this when Gramps started complaining about Eli using all the hot water.

  Turning the shower on, I throw my stinky clothes in the hamper then step under the spray. Mom has a thing about good showerheads, so we always change out the standard ones for these massive ones with a gazillion different settings. I don’t like the soft spray Cecily does, but I hate the hard spray Mom uses. I’m squarely in between and adjust it to where I want it. Cec will complain later, but I just feel like that super-soft spray can’t get you clean.

  The hot water feels great. I love a good soak in a tub, but sometimes a shower is just as good. I didn’t take a shower earlier because I didn’t have clean clothes, and there’s nothing I hate worse than getting clean and putting on dirty clothes. And underwear? Uh, no. Nasty. You don’t put on day-old underwear if you don’t have to.

  Closing my eyes, I let the water work its magic, and every tight muscle starts to loosen. Maybe I’ll grab a bath at Eli’s. His grandpa has the biggest soaker tub I’ve ever seen, and it has jets. I’m betting I can sweet talk my way into him letting me use it.

  Heck, I might bribe him with burgers from The Coffee Shoppe. Even though it’s bad for him, but that tub is so worth it.

  When the water starts to run warm instead of hot, I know it’s time to hurry up. Once my body is clean, I reach for my shampoo, but it’s not in the little holder. Cecily has a bad habit of setting mine on the back of the toilet if she brings all her beauty care stuff into the shower, and sure enough, all her stuff covers every surface. She and I are going to have to chat. Since she’s gone boy crazy, her beauty routine has gone off the rails.

  Shaking my head, I pull the curtain back to look for my shampoo but pause. Something’s not quite right. There’s nothing out of place, and the steam has made the bathroom warm as toast. It’s quiet, only the spray of the water hitting the tiles and the tub echoing around me.

  “Hello?” I whisper and glance around, including behind me. I’ve seen one too many horror movies where the person turns around to some killer. I’m not getting surprised.

  I used to think that just happened in movies, that it wasn’t reality. I’ve learned since becoming a living reaper, ghosts can pop up anywhere, especially where you least expect them, so I’m not taking chances on some creepy ghost scaring me to death.

  “Is someone here?” I whisper so low you’d have to be standing right beside me to hear. If it’s a ghost, they’ll hear me.

  Again, just silence.

  Maybe I’m freaking myself out here. Usually, when a ghost comes near, the whole place gets cold. And with all the steam, I’m sure it would cause ice crystals everywhere. I’m just being paranoid.

  Grabbing my shampoo and conditioner, I move out some of Cecily’s stuff and commence washing my hair. I might cut it. Dad would flip, but it’s a mess of long, thick hair. Sometimes it even gives me headaches. Cutting it even to just my shoulders might help not only with said headaches, but with managing the unruly mop that is my hair.

  Rinsing out the last of the conditioner, I turn the water off and attempt to wring out as much water from my hair as I can. It’ll be easier to towel dry that way. I hardly use a hair dryer because I end up with dry, damaged ends when I do.

  Tap…tap…tap.

  What was that?

  Tap…tap…tap.

  It sounds close, whatever it is. Part of me dreads pulling the shower curtain back, and the other part of me wants to rip it open and dare whatever is out there to try something. The part that hides my eyes during scary movies wins out, and I press as far back against the wall as I can.

  Screechhhhh…

  The shower curtain moves a little, and my breathing speeds up.

  The rings rattle as they move, the sound echoing in the silence of the bathroom
.

  But it’s not cold.

  Maybe what’s out there isn’t a ghost.

  But what could it be?

  I look up when the screeching sounds again, and three claw-like fingers are nestled around the curtain rod, one ring in between each finger. The fingers are covered in a black, sticky substance that’s dripping down onto the curtain and rolling until it splats onto the white tub bottom.

  No, no, no.

  “Ella?” Eli shouts from outside the door. He tries to open it, but I locked it in case Mom tried to come in to talk while I was trapped in the shower.

  And while that’s going through my head, I watch the fingers do their slow tap, tap, tap against the shower rod.

  Like it’s waiting for me to open the curtain.

  Anticipating it.

  No way. Nope, not doing it.

  A sound fills the void around me, low and shrill, like the screeching of a grinder against metal.

  The shower curtain starts to slide open.

  My heartbeat begins to pound so loud it’s all I hear.

  An inch of the curtain slides back, and then another inch.

  A whimper escapes me.

  Two more inches.

  Eli’s shouting; something is ramming against the door.

  Another inch.

  An arm of sorts appears. It’s covered in oozing black slime, the fingers the same as the one gripping the top of the shower curtain.

  The screeching noise gets louder, drowning out even my whimpers.

  The side of a face appears, only it’s not a human face. It’s not an animal’s face. It’s just something completely foreign and the things nightmares are made of.

  Its face is a sticky mess of slime, but I see the black eyes staring steadily at me. There’s no expression on its face or in its eyes, and that makes it all the more terrifying.

  “Ella!”

  My voice is frozen. I can’t scream, can’t move. I’ve only felt this scared once, when I was trapped in the dark place during my coma. I remember it. Most of it, anyway.

  This thing makes me feel like I did when all those whispers slithered around me and I couldn’t see or move.

  Its hand comes up, and one finger slides across my cheek. It burns where it touched me.

  Eli, help me!

  I can’t shout the words, but I think them.

  There’s a splintering sound, and this warm blue glow bathes the room. It’s so bright it hurts my eyes.

  The thing screeches, and I hear this guttural growl and then a crunch.

  The tip of a sword stops barely an inch from my heart.

  “Ella?”

  “I…c..cc…aaa…”

  The shower curtain is ripped aside, and there’s a sticky puddle on the floor, like mud, but nastier.

  Eli’s standing there, only he seems a foot taller and he’s glowing, his eyes a pool of white light. He’s beautiful. Like an Angel.

  “Ella?”

  I blink, but I’m just frozen, unable to say anything.

  His glow diminishes just a bit when he seems to realize I’m standing here naked. He takes the fluffy towel and wraps me in it, picking me up and carrying me down the stairs to where Mom is standing at the foot of the stairs.

  “Ella, honey, what’s wrong?”

  “Spider,” Eli says loudly. “I never knew you were terrified of them.”

  “Spider,” I manage to get out.

  Mom frowns and starts to say something, but he shakes his head, the movement barely noticeable.

  “Thanks for letting Ella spend the week with me and Gramps. He’s not doing so well, and I’m worried about him being alone while I’m at practice. He had a heart attack a few years ago, and I’ve been trying to get him to eat better, but he doesn’t listen to me. Ella is making sure he does.”

  Mom looks like she wants to argue, but Eli stops her again.

  “I’m gonna grab her stuff. Oh, and Gramps wanted me to bring you over to the house for supper. Said it’s about time he meets you and Mr. B since Ella and Cecily talk about y’all so much. You mind riding with us?”

  “Of course.” Mom’s frown deepens.

  Eli deposits me on the couch and runs back upstairs, only to come back down with the clothes I had laid out in the bathroom.

  I take them but sit uselessly on the couch. Mom is the one who helps me into the clothes, not even bothering with a bra. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.

  But my cheek is on fire.

  “Honey?” Mom brushes my wet hair out of my face. “Are you okay?”

  I shake my head.

  Her fingers brush the goo on my face, and she jerks her hand back. “What in the…” She trails off and takes the tip of the towel to wipe it away.

  “All set.” Eli is back, sitting down next to me. He sees the towel and growls, taking it from Mom. He wads it up and tucks it into the bookbag he must have carried down with him.

  “Eli, I don’t know if tonight is a good night.”

  “It’s already set. Gramps is an old man, Mrs. B. You wouldn’t want to upset him with a bad heart and all, would you?” Eli smiles at my mom, the smile I’m sure melts the hearts of any girl he tosses it to. My mom is no different. Sort of gross, but she is a girl.

  “I guess tonight’s good. I’ll text Henry on the way. Is there anything I should bring?”

  “No, ma’am. We got it covered.” He squats down in front of me. “Hop on, Shortcake.”

  Only I don’t think I can. I can’t move.

  His forehead touches mine, and he whispers right beside my ear. “You have to do this. They could be watching.”

  I try, and when I do, my whole body starts to shake uncontrollably. He picks me up and settles down on the couch, basically wrapping himself around me like a human blanket.

  “It’s okay. I know the spider scared you, but I killed it. And I checked the bathroom for more. I even texted my buddy’s dad who’s an exterminator to come check the place out tomorrow. No spiders for you or Cecily.”

  His tone is soft and even, soothing. Slowly, the shaking starts to subside, but it doesn’t go away completely. I try to lift my arm again, and I feel weak and the limb shakes, but I do manage it.

  Eli helps me up, and he motions for Mom to help him. Together, the two of them situate me onto his back, and his hands pull my legs around him, gripping the calves tightly. “Hold on, Ella.”

  He stands up, and I almost lose my grip on him, but my fingers miraculously dig into his shoulders, and I don’t fall. Eli motions to the backpack, and Mom grabs it, and we head out to his Jeep. He puts me in the front seat and straps me in. Mom gets in the back after locking the door.

  Eli flips on the radio and turns it to a random channel. Turning around so only Mom and I can see him, he mouths, “We’ll talk at my house.”

  He then pulls out and sings along to the radio the entire ride back to his house.

  Chapter Ten

  Eli

  Rage.

  A rage so deep it’s all I can do not to shout my anger to the Heavens. A demon. A demon was in her house. How did a demon find her? Why was it there? Who sent it?

  These questions and a gazillion others swirl through my head as I sing, not only to keep Ella calm, but to try to cool this rage burning away inside of me.

  And God, but she’s scared. That causes my anger to flame even hotter. I’ve never seen her like this. I know the first time she saw a ghost, she was afraid, but nothing like this. I’m starting to worry she might be in shock. She’s staring at nothing, and she’s shaking.

  I wish I had something in here to give her, but it’s July, and I don’t normally carry a hoodie or anything warm with me. I’ve got a spare tank top and some basketball shorts in back, but that’s not going to help her. I need to remember to store a blanket for her. Gramps is always badgering me to remember during the winter months, but neither of us thinks about it during the summer.

  It doesn’t take us long to reach home. The sheriff’s car is parked out fron
t. Not his police vehicle, but his personal car. Or rather, his mate’s car. Shelly drives a new Buick.

  “Ella, honey, we’re here.” Her mom slips out of the back seat and is trying to get her to talk, but Ella’s all but mute. I get out and gently brush her mom aside before unbuckling Ella and carrying her into the house.

  Gramps looks up as we come in, and he’s instantly concerned. “What?”

  “A demon.” I sit down on the couch and wrap myself around her again. This seems to help. “I think she’s in shock. Maybe call Doc Adams and have him come over for dinner?”

  “A demon?” Mrs. Banks whispers, her eyes wide. “Why didn’t you say anything back at the house?”

  “Because I think your house is bugged.”

  “What?”

  “The reason I talked about spiders is I think Major Banks’ boss is listening in on you at the house. They could have hidden cameras there, for all I know. I couldn’t risk Ella’s safety.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because we put ghost proofing around your entire property, and yet Ella saw a ghost yesterday. Someone broke the protection line.”

  “It could be anything that did that…”

  “No, ma’am. We dug ten feet down in a circle around the house and poured two feet of salt into it. There is no accidentally breaking that. Someone had to dig it up and clean out the salt enough for spirits to pass through.”

  She sinks into the chair, her own hand shaking.

  “Why do you think it’s his boss and not more people in this town trying to hurt her?”

  “What happened at the end of school was two drunks being stupid. The majority of people in Jacob’s Fork would never harm another supernatural being. We may not particularly like your husband and his mission here, but Ella is one of us. We wouldn’t hurt her.”

  “Can you sweep my Jeep for bugs as well as their house for hidden cameras and listening devices?” I’m tired. Sleepy.

  “Eli, son, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, just tired.” I look over at Ella’s mom. “Can you text Cecily not to go home, to come straight here? I killed the demon there, but that doesn’t mean others won’t come. We need to demon-proof the house before you can go home safely.”