White Raven

by J. L. Weil

  Get a grip, Piper.

  In silence we walked, heading toward the echo of lapping waters. The breeze frolicked through my hair, and beyond in the distance, I could barely make out the sound of voices. We made sure to keep enough space between us so we didn’t accidently touch.

  The sand squished under my feet as we crossed onto the beach. It was a good thing he didn’t expect conversation, because my mind was a million miles away. Conflicted. All because of him and his life-altering lips. One minute he was as cold as ice and the next as hot as the surface of the sun. It would make anyone’s head spin.

  “Hello, gorgeous.” A gravelly voice interrupted behind me.

  I turned around. Zane already had his eyes pinned on a guy coming out from under the docks. Light from the lamppost streamed down on his pale-colored hair, the wind kicking up, blowing the long strands across his forehead. I guessed his age to be in his late twenties.

  And, I knew just by looking at him that he was a ghost, a spirit, or whatever they wanted to be called. For a split second, I panicked, not knowing if what I was seeing was real. Confusion scrambled my brain. Zane had clearly seen him, which, if I took a moment to process, would make sense, if he was indeed dead.

  Shit.

  Zane stiffened, and my eyes immediately went to the stranger’s wrists. If there was one thing I’d learned, it was that those little birdy tattoos separated the reapers from the rest of us. Sure as shit, a little blue sparrow donned his left wrist. My brain just barely registered what that meant when I felt tendrils of fear burrowing through my stomach.

  He was a dead reaper.

  The guy beamed at me. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? I heard you keep lethal company.”

  Zane snarled, a ghastly, primitive warning.

  He nodded at Zane. “Reaper.”

  It was like a come-kick-my-ass invitation. “Zane?” I whispered hesitantly.

  “It’s okay,” he assured me under his breath. “He’s dead. A hallow.”

  If that was supposed to make me feel better, it failed. My first face time with a hallow, I was uncertain how I should be feeling or what I was supposed to do. Was Zane going to destroy this guy’s soul? Technically, he wasn’t human, the mark on his wrist saying otherwise, so did that mean he had a soul to take?

  A sudden rush of brisk air stirred at the back of my neck, and my eyes turned to Zane. I gasped. Cloaked in shadows, he disappeared, only to materialize seconds later behind the ghost of a restless reaper. Zane was going to collect a soul tonight, and I was going to witness the whole thing.

  Crap on a stick.

  I wasn’t sure I was prepared to witness Death’s weapon in action.

  What if I looked at Zane differently?

  What if he grew an extra set of pointy teeth and ate the soul like a ravenous beast?

  Wow. I needed to lay off the Supernatural episodes. This whole night was turning into a page out of a Dean R. Koontz novel. Unreal. Terrifying. Intriguing.

  The ghost-spirit thing spun, but not before I caught a glimpse of panic as he realized he was about to lose his soul, the last grip he had to keep him here on Earth. “You’re not the only one with tricks,” he sneered.

  Zap. He was gone.

  I rubbed my eyes, determined they were deceiving me and what I was seeing wasn’t real. Inhuman or not, people did not just vanish in thin air. But Zane could move within the shadows, my subconscious reminded me. That I accepted, but a dead person bending space didn’t make sense. I might need to rethink how the world worked.

  When he didn’t immediately reemerge, I began to think I’d dodged a bullet. Of course, I was never that lucky. Fate had it out for me. What a bitch.

  A slight twitch of Zane’s brow was the only warning he gave.

  I never saw him, but the moment his fingers wrapped around my throat, I knew I was in deep poo, the torrential life-threatening kind. I couldn’t breathe. Literally, the oxygen was cut from my lungs as I gasped, struggling to fight for glorious air. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t call for help.

  No. No. God no.

  I wasn’t ready to die, if it was possible to die at the hands of someone who’d already kicked the bucket, but by the feel of the hands squeezing my esophagus, I assumed it was very feasible. This idiot didn’t know who he was messing with. I wasn’t going to make it easy. Twisting and bucking, I went wild, trying to loosen his hold on me. All I managed to do was send us both tumbling to the ground.

  The impact of the coarse sand knocked the air out of my chest, scorching my back in searing pain. Son. Of. A. Bitch. But at least his grubby hands were no longer grasping my neck. Greedily, I gulped air like it was an all-you-could-eat chocolate buffet and it was that time of the month. The taste was fresh and sweet, but didn’t diminish the stinging burn. I started to cough. If I lived to see tomorrow, I was going to be sporting some killer bruises.

  Thinking fast, I shoved the palm of my hand up his face full force. On impact, I heard a nasty crack. Good. I hoped I’d broken his nose. My reprieve was short-lived.

  Recovering far quicker than I anticipated, he pulled back his hand, bluish blood gushing from his nose. “You skan—”

  Suddenly, the weight of his repulsive body was gone, and the sound of flesh being plummeted overrode the rising and falling of the ocean’s tide. While I had been tangling with dead dude, I had forgotten about Zane. Vibrant, rare blue eyes met mine. A face so striking and so cold I knew I was safe.

  “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way. Keeps things interesting, and I’m looking forward to kicking your ass.” Zane held the ghost at arm’s length, those dark veins spreading down his neck and over his arms.

  Zane was wicked fast and deadly, his form flickering in and out, turning from shadow to human and back again. Blood pumped through my body so fast as the ground began to shake, trees and cars trembling. Zane threw his arms into the air, and a quick crack sounded, followed by a session of several more.

  Good God. I was going to think twice about pissing off Zane.

  “I’m going to enjoy ripping the essence from your body,” he growled.

  Fireworks exploded in the distance, lighting up the sky, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Zane.

  “Piss off,” the hallow hissed. “I’m not ready to let you strip me of my soul, Death Scythe.”

  “Well, that’s unfortunate, considering you’re dead,” Zane replied, cloaked in darkness. “You don’t think I can actually let you stick around, do you? Especially after that little stunt you pulled?”

  “Change is coming. Can you feel it?” He jerked against Zane’s binds like he was having a seizure and was more than a little coo-coo.

  Zane’s eyes took on an eerie glow, and his jaw was compressed. “The only thing I feel is your essence. It’s mine.”

  “Stick it up your ass, Hunter,” he spat.

  “Now there’s an idea,” Zane smiled coldly, grinding his knee into the hallow’s chest. “You hurt her. You spilled her blood. And now, you will know my wrath. I might have shown you mercy, but now, it won’t be quick or without pain.” He placed his open hand over his heart.

  And that was it. The hallow bellowed, unifying with the wailing winds and death.

  The air kicked up, sand swirling around us in a tornado, lashing and spinning. A bright light erupted at the center of the hallow’s chest, spreading until I felt the need to turn away, the brilliance blinding. Just at the moment when I didn’t think I could bear another second, Zane’s darkness enveloped the light.

  A part of my mind clicked off, and I was moving without thinking. It was a split-second decision. I wasn’t brave. I was intrigued. “Zane?” My hand went through the shadows.

  Oops.

  I had expected to meet resistance, an invisible barrier, but my fingers skimmed Zane’s arm. Touching him might not have been the smartest choice, not while he was severing a soul from a body. Electric tingles darted down my arm, and I felt something deep inside me. A tug. A temptation. The shadows were cool
and soft against my skin. Everything slowed down.

  My body felt like it was shimmering from the inside out, murmuring with energy. I snatched my hand away, but not before I felt the power of destroying a soul. Scrambling backward, I gasped, falling on my backside.

  When the light of his humanity finally flickered out completely, the body was gone as if he had been made of nothing but smoke and air. Not a trace left behind but the aftermath of bruises on my neck and cuts on my back.

  I had wanted the truth, but actually seeing it—totally different than hearing or imagining it. I knew Zane was dangerous. I knew what he did. Yet witnessing it, feeling it… All I could do was stare at him. “You really are a weapon.”

  Zane let out a strangled laugh. “That’s what I’ve been telling you.” Offering me a hand, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  He’d killed him. I mean, yes, he was technically already dead, but he had ripped out his soul without hesitation. And as I examined how that made me feel, I realized I was grateful. He’d saved my life. Again. I put my hand in his without hesitation. “Thank you.”

  With an angled brow, he pulled me to my feet. “I never thought I’d hear those two words from your mouth.”

  There was comfort in him razzing me like old times. “Have you killed before?” I winced. “Sorry, dumb question. Of course you have.”

  “I’ve lost count. And there will be more. Many more.” There was regret. He accepted what he did, but he didn’t enjoy it.

  Listening, there was only silence. No fireworks. “Guess we missed the show.”

  He glanced at his phone. “And you didn’t run.”

  Searching his face, I asked, “Was I supposed to?”

  Looking just a tad disheveled, he murmured, “You should be shaking in your boots, Princess.

  I dragged in a deep breath that still tasted of Zane’s kiss. “We’re all full of surprises. Like you. You are prone to moments of great dickdom, but then you go and do something unexpected.”

  He touched me; a whisper along my cheek, sending a charge through my body so strong it stole my breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.”

  Thousands of tiny molecules surged inside me, a mixture of pleasure and pain. I didn’t know what was happening, but it wasn’t normal. My belly started to roll, my vision turned fuzzy, and my lashes flickered in an effort to clear the haze. Pointless. Before I had the chance to question Zane, I tipped over the edge into the unknown abyss.

  He damn well better catch me. It was my last thought.

  Chapter 17

  More and more I’d been dreaming about the night my mother was murdered. I relived that moment as if I’d been there, watching her life being yanked away. The sounds of gunshots echoing down the street. The numbness that took over my body when I realized the wretched truth. And her blood staining my hands as she left me alone.

  I screamed, desperate for help. Her body motionless on the blacktop, twisted at an odd angle. Fear and panic had made me useless.

  But in my dreams, Mom blinked open her eyes, moaning in pain as she looked at me, a tear rolling down her cheek. She reached out a trembling hand, covering the side of my cheek. A river of warmth and love flowed through me. Weakened from the loss of blood, she couldn’t hold her arm up, so she let it rest on my shoulder.

  “Piper,” she said. “It will be okay. You are stronger than you realize, much stronger than I.”

  My head swung back and forth, not wanting to here this. She was wrong. So wrong. I was not strong.

  Her hand squeezed my arm. “There is so much I never got to tell you, but there isn’t time. Piper, wake up—”

  My eyes jolted open.

  Panting, beads of perspiration dotted my body, a fuzziness clouding my brain. Every limb felt leaden. I saw walls of purple and ivory, an antique dresser snuggled into the corner, and a furry white rug covering the floor beside the bed.

  Not my bedroom. Not home.

  I was in my room at Raven Manor, which meant my nightmare was still very real. My mom was gone.

  I forced the dream to the back of my mind. It was then I heard the heated voices just outside my door. I knew them well.

  Rose and Zane.

  Even dead, I would recognize that holier-than-thou voice of Zane and the commanding voice of Rose. Like slugging through murky water, fighting to break free, the memories of what happened tonight swam to the surface. There was no denying what I had seen. If I had been harboring any hope that Zane wasn’t what he claimed to be, tonight shattered that itty, bitty sliver of hope.

  Curiosity got the best of me. Listening, I zeroed in, attempting to hone my snooping skills. They weren’t that great to begin with, but luckily, Zane and Rose were making it easy, their voices rising.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Rose reprimanded.

  I cringed, feeling a tad bit sorry for Zane.

  “If I hadn’t been there, she might not be safely tucked into her bed,” replied Zane. “Someone has to look out for the brat.”

  Brat? I flung back the covers.

  He was going to pay for that later, after I finished eavesdropping.

  “What do you think I’ve been doing?” Rose countered. “I brought here her for that exact reason. To keep her alive, not for a meaningless fling.”

  Ouch. The hostility was evident; however, it was difficult for me to understand. That was more than a bee sting, and not in the least bit true. Whatever was going on between Zane and me, it was not meaningless.

  “How long are you going to keep doing this? Lying to her? Keeping her in the dark? She deserves to know the truth, for her own protection,” Zane argued. I could feel the increase of his anger.

  Calm and collective, Rose replied, “Don’t question my methods. I know what she needs, and right now she can’t handle the truth.”

  “Shows how little you actually know your granddaughter,” he scoffed.

  She clucked her tongue. “You let your feelings clog your judgment. Feelings you shouldn’t have, I remind you.”

  “It’s not necessary. I know where I stand, but I’m done lying. I won’t stand around and watch her suffer.”

  “And that’s why you are not the right choice for her.”

  I was on the edge of the bed, literally, afraid I might miss something imperative.

  Frigid air seeped under the door. The chill rang in his voice as he spoke. “That’s not what our souls say.”

  Huh? What did that mean?

  Rose was silent for a fraction of a minute, absorbing the comment about our souls. I didn’t understand what he meant, but it made my heart quicken. “That might be, but it doesn’t matter. It’s too late. The choice has been made.”

  “Bullshit,” Zane spat. “You have the power to alter or even dissolve the agreement.”

  Her voice dropped to a whisper, and I nearly fell out of the bed trying to hear what she said. Damn it. Just when things were starting to get good, she had to go and ruin it.

  The hinges on my door squeaked, and I scampered back on the bed, snapping my eyes closed. I pulled the covers swiftly back up to my chin just in time. Clunk. Clap. Clunk. The scuffle of shoes sauntered across the wood floors, followed by the mattress dipping, but it was the scent of a misty rainforest that aroused my senses. Why did he have to smell so stinking yummy?

  Soft lips brushed across my forehead. I kept as still as a corpse, forgetting to breathe.

  “Piper.” He rolled my name off his tongue. “I know you’re awake. Piper?” Concern stamped his voice.

  I opened just one eye, making sure the coast was clear. No Rose, but I didn’t delude myself into thinking she had gone far. After what I’d heard, I was actually shocked she let Zane in my room at all.

  A rush of air exuded from his slightly tilted lips. “I thought I was going to have to perform CPR.”

  I smirked. “I just bet you would have liked that.”

  “And you wouldn’t?”

  I scooted up, resting my back on a pile of fluffy pillows. �
�Guess you’ll never know,” I said with satisfaction.

  His lopsided grin spread an inch. “I could knock you out again if that would help.”

  A flutter took up residence deep in my belly and chest. “Just try it. You’re already on my shit list.”

  His brow did that irritating and charming arch. “How much did you hear?”

  My hand clutched the end of the blanket, twiddling with the knit. “Enough to know you owe me an explanation.”

  Ice blue eyes narrowed. “It would do well for you to learn to not stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  I was going to fly off the bed and kill him. “I heard her tell you—”

  He pressed a finger to my lips and leaned forward, murmuring in my ear, “Be careful what you say. The walls here are thin, and you are treading dangerous waters, fiery one.”

  The warmth from his breath made me shiver, sending a ripple of annoyance down my back. I wanted to argue, patience not being one of my virtues. “Fine,” I said reluctantly. “But I won’t be put off for long.”

  “Tomorrow. Meet me at the docks of the club after hours.” He flicked the end of my nose.

  Frowning, I hugged a pillow to my chest, glaring. “You better not blow me off, Zaney, because I promise I’ll hunt you down.”

  Standing up, a small grin pulled at his lips. “I might actually look forward to that.” He walked backward toward the double glass doors. “Either way, Princess, just remember…” his hand touched the doorframe “…I warned you.” Then he slipped out the door as quietly as he had slithered in.

  “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out,” I yelled.

  The sound of his damn laughter carried in the wind as he strutted down the terrace stairs.

  ~*~*~

  I peered out the large double doors, finding a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in a long time. Despite the picturesque view—a garden flourishing with bold flowers and lush greenery, thriving in the summer’s heat—my heart twisted.

  Now that I’d had a taste of Zane, it was all I could think about. I was a smart girl, most of the time. I should have known that even a simple kiss with Zane would be earth-shattering. I wanted more. I wanted him.