Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (Dead Things Series Book 1)

by Martina McAtee

  She picked her bag up off the floor, backing towards the door.

  “Ember, why did you come to see me?”

  She shrugged, numb, voice dead. “I needed something to heal my dead dog’s foot.”

  “Ah, yes. Romero, isn’t it? Allister is very impressed with your progress. He talks about you at great length.”

  She said nothing, watching dully as he went back to the cabinet. She found it strange that Allister thought about her at all. She’d only seen him a handful of times and, most often, not for long.

  He took a small jar from the back. “It’s comfrey and lavender and a few other things. Wrap it tight for 48 hours. If he lives that long, this should fix him.”

  She tucked the jar in her backpack and walked away. She went home. She didn’t know what else to do.

  46

  KAI

  This was probably a horrible idea. This was definitely probably a horrible idea. They left the house as the sun started to dip low, painting the sky an eerie blood red. They were almost to the car when Quinn appeared, hands stuffed in his pockets and giving the two of them an appraising look, “Just where are you two going?”

  Kai blinked rapidly, cursing the fact he hadn’t thought of a lie ahead of time. “Uh, we are just going for a drive,” Kai said with a stilted shrug.

  “Dude, you are so lying.” To Mace he said, “He always does that blinky stammering thing when he lies.”

  “Okay, we are going to meet some of Mace’s friends.”

  Quinn snorted, “Mace has friends?”

  The soul eater rolled his eyes giving Kai a look that screamed ‘could you hurry this along’.

  “Just please don’t tell Isa,” Kai begged.

  Quinn adjusted his glasses and stared at him with mock innocence, “I can’t tell Isa if I’m with you.”

  “No. No way,” Mace told him, mouth puckered as if he’d tasted something bad. “Absolutely under no circumstances are we bringing the human.”

  Quinn grinned.

  They left ten minutes later, Quinn in the backseat beaming at the two of them. An hour in, the trip was going smoother than Kai thought it would. The only harrowing moment happened when Quinn called their excursion a ‘guy’s night’ and Mace looked like he might actually rip Quinn’s soul out of his body.

  Kai was trying to have the same enthusiasm as Quinn but he lost his nerve sometime around the Florida/Georgia line. Things hadn’t exactly gone to plan the last time they’d gone over state lines.

  The further they traveled north, the more Kai felt the need to fill the silence. Quinn was always eager to talk but Kai was shocked when Mace chimed in here and there. They talked about anything that crossed their minds from the latest video games to the likelihood of The Hunger Games ever really happening. They unanimously agreed Tristin would be the only one cutthroat enough to surviving without their supernatural gifts.

  Kai was grateful nobody wanted to talk about what happened in New Orleans. It seemed there was an unspoken pact to avoid discussing anything too deep or painful. Which left only the most ridiculous subjects up for grabs, often veering them way off topic.

  “I mean, really what’s the difference between superheroes and the supernatural, really?” Kai asked.

  “Spandex, mostly,” Quinn reasoned.

  Mace nodded, wincing at the idea. “Yeah, I’m not wearing spandex. It looks like it might be…binding.”

  “I don’t know, I wouldn’t mind Batman’s costume,” Kai told him.

  “Or his toys,” Quinn added wistfully.

  They fell silent after that. Kai thought about Tristin at work tonight, which led to thinking about Rhys which led to him wanting to punch something. “So where is this place anyway?” he asked by way of distraction.

  “Not far, barely over the state line,” Mace supplied vaguely. Quinn and Kai exchanged nervous glances. “Oh and if you want to say any last words to anybody, you might want to call or text now.”

  They both looked at him, startled.

  “No cell service out there,” he grinned.

  “Oh,” Kai said.

  Isa was going to murder all of them when she found out. She had let him borrow the jeep. She never let anybody borrow the jeep. She loved the jeep. He’d told her he wanted to go for a drive. She’d never even questioned him, which meant somebody had already filled her in on what happened with Rhys. She’d let him drive the jeep out of pity. Even Isa thought his feelings for her brother were worthy of pity. Sympathy may not get you everywhere but it could apparently get you a night of exotic dining with a soul eater in the backwoods of Georgia.

  “So what happens if you don’t eat? I mean, you are immortal, right? Or undead? Is it the same thing?” Kai asked.

  Quinn snickered at the look of incredulity on Mace shot him. “You’re a reaper and you don’t know the difference?”

  “Hey, I’m a reaper who learned reaping from werewolves and witches. I did the best I could. Don’t be so judgey.”

  “Fair point,” Mace conceded. “How many souls have you collected?”

  He wasn’t sure why he was embarrassed. “Well, I mean, I don’t come into my full magic for another year so they don’t really call on me too often.” He could have shown him the names but it would have involved slipping off his shirt and it was getting colder the further north they traveled. “Twenty,” he finally answered. “Ember would have been twenty one.”

  “Strange thing, that,” Mace said without clarifying. Quinn’s eyes snapped to Mace and they traded an odd look. Kai didn’t want to know what it meant so he didn’t press.

  The rest of the car ride passed with him flipping the channels on the Jeep’s radio as Quinn or Mace vetoed every single song with lengthy diatribes about why they sucked.

  Once they exited the interstate, his leg jittered double time. They traveled the back roads on a two-lane highway that gave way to a two-lane gravel road. After a few miles, the road merged into one hard to navigate, barely visible bumpy dirt road. Kai was suddenly very grateful for the four-wheel drive. He couldn’t help but notice how desolate the area was.

  The jeep bumped to a stop in front of what looked like an abandoned granary and Kai thought he should reevaluate his life choices. It wasn’t normal to frequent places only good for shady meetings and body dumps.

  An old sign clung to a falling down fence. He could make out only a few letters in chipped paint, the rest hidden behind layers of oxidized metal. The parking lot was a field of red clay dotted with patches of weeds and the occasional mud puddle. A singular corroded street light gave off a sickly yellow glow, making the building look sinister. At first glance it seemed like your average warehouse, all corrugated metal and a tin roof, but a heavy steel sliding door barred the entrance. It seemed overkill for an abandoned factory.

  “You’re going to feed here?” Kai asked, disbelief leaking into his tone.

  Mace squinted at him, the corner of his mouth tugging to the side in a face Kai had come to think of as Mace’s oops-I-may-have-lied face. “About that…”

  Kai tensed, pulse skipping. His hand floated to the knife tucked against his side almost of its own accord. Quinn watched Kai, waiting for an indication things were going bad.

  Mace put his hands up, all wide-eyed innocence. “Relax. I’m not going to kill you. I just didn’t come here to feed.”

  “Then what the hell are we doing here?”

  “I need to pick up a something for a friend of mine and I thought you’d prefer to get out of the house rather than mope at home on your front porch like a lovesick puppy. He invited himself.” He nodded his head in Quinn’s direction. “Besides, the alpha never would have allowed me to borrow the jeep.”

  Kai rolled his eyes, silently begging for strength. “I can’t believe people actually stay here, like, on purpose.”

  Mace pounded on the steel door. �
�You know what they say about judging books by covers?” Mace chided.

  The door opened and a shadowy figure stepped back, allowing them inside before floating back from whence they came. Four people peered at them from the right side of the room. Quinn scanned their surroundings and Kai was sure he was calculating the distance to every visible exit in the place. Kai skimmed over the new faces but couldn’t keep his eyes from looking upwards.

  A thousand glass jars dangled from the ceiling each with a single light bulb. Vines crawled along the rafters, making the entire roof look like some modern industrial garden. There was a large conference table in the middle of the space and just beyond that, a spiral staircase led to the bottom of what must be the grain silo. A large bar stretched along the wall to the right with a fully stocked shelf of expensive booze.

  It was the coolest space Kai had ever seen. He fought the urge to take a picture. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a girl uncoiled herself from her seat at the bar, slinking her way to Mace, face determined.

  Quinn’s brows ran towards his hairline, looking at Kai. Kai wasn’t even going to guess.

  “Until Shelby told me about your deal, I thought for sure you were still in that dungeon being tortured,” she said. She had a faint accent. Irish maybe. She had a full figure and dark chestnut hair and she touched Mace as if she had a claim.

  “Hoped would be more like it, Bridget.”

  “You had it comin’,” she told him. “Don’t steal from the hyenas. They’re a nasty lot.”

  Mace gestured vaguely. “So I’ve learned,” he told her dismissively. “I’m looking for Tate.”

  “Then look no further, friend,” came a voice from the doorway.

  Kai turned and his jaw dropped. He couldn’t help it. A tall boy lazed against the doorframe. He wore low-slung leather pants, an unbuttoned shirt, a jacket and a large scarf. He was barefoot.

  Quinn’s expression said he thought he looked ridiculous; but not Kai. He looked amazing. Kai’s tongue shot out, licking parched lips, suddenly having no idea what to do with his hands. He shoved them in his pockets, dropping his head and covertly looking at Tate through his lashes. He had an olive complexion, messy black hair and abs like an Olympic swimmer.

  His eyes glinted solid yellow in the dim lighting, pupils barely visible. He was a shifter. Probably a feline, the way he moved, prowling towards them with a cat like grace and a calculating smile. He raised the bottle he had clutched in his right hand by way of greeting.

  Mace rolled his eyes at his friend. “Tate, meet Kai and Quinn. Kai, Quinn, meet Tate.”

  Tate raked his eyes over Kai, smirking at Mace. “I approve.”

  “Mmn, I thought you might,” Mace told him. “I trust you won’t mind entertaining my friend while I talk with Shelby.”

  A look passed between the two. “I’m sure I can handle that. Give her a few minutes though, she’s on a conference call. Oh, and be careful…she’s in a mood.”

  Mace grimaced, “When is she not?”

  “You.” Tate crooked his finger, “Come with me.”

  “Uh, no way. You are not ditching me to make out with Felix the cat,” Quinn said, looking back and forth between the two of them.

  Tate smiled at Quinn, measuring him up. “Audrey,” he called out in a singsong voice. “I have somebody I want you to meet.”

  A girl their age appeared from the back of the room. She was slight and dainty, blonde hair piled on her head in that messy style that girls wanted you to think was easy but Kai knew from Isa took forever. She wore a loose fitting dress and bare feet. “Audrey, meet Quinn. I think you should show him and Mace the library.”

  Her eyes lit up and she grasped Quinn’s hand, dragging him towards the back.

  “I see what you’re doing,” Quinn told him, letting himself be pulled along, “trying to lure me away with books. It’s working but only because I want to.” Quinn gave one last look over his shoulder at the two, telegraphing his disapproval with his eyebrows.

  Kai took a deep breath to calm his nerves, watching Mace follow his friend, “After you.”

  Tate steered Kai to the spiral staircase below the grain silo, pushing open a treehouse style door and climbing inside. He pulled Kai in after him. Kai stopped short. “I feel like I’m in Jeannie’s bottle.”

  He turned in a circle, taking it all in. Silk and fabric draped from every available surface. No furniture, just pillows. Hundreds of pillows in every shape, size and color. Tate smiled at him. “It is a bit decadent, I guess, but once you lay down you’ll understand the appeal.”

  Kai’s stomach turned a little at that. What the hell was he doing here? He didn’t want Tate to get the wrong impression. He may have come here to forget Rhys but not by sleeping with a stranger in a grain silo in nowhere Georgia. While he admitted it would be dramatic, it wasn’t quite the effect he was looking for. He was very far from home. He glanced at Tate, uneasy.

  “Relax, I can smell him all over you,” Tate told him with a wave of his hand, flopping into the pile of pillows and slugging straight from the bottle he still clutched. “I can keep my hands to myself. As irresistible as you might be.” He winked at him.

  Kai’s annoyance flashed to the surface, “I don’t belong to him. I don’t belong to anybody.”

  Tate cocked a brow at him, smiling widely. “You don’t have to convince me. I’ll make out with you if it means that much to you.”

  Kai rolled his eyes and flopped down next to the stranger, defeated. “What are you anyway?”

  “Shifter. Panther,” he said, offering him the bottle. “You?”

  “Reaper. Collector.” He drank deeply from the bottle before erupting into a coughing fit. “What is that?” he gasped.

  “Moonshine.”

  “Seriously?” Kai choked. “You have a house that looks like it belongs in Architecture Digest but you’re slugging back moonshine?”

  “You can take the boy out of Florida but you can’t take Florida…blah, blah, blah. Besides, this place isn’t mine.”

  “You’re from Florida?” Kai asked, nestling further down in the pillows.

  Tate was right. It was so very comfortable. He needed to talk to Isa about doing this to the living room. It would make pack night puppy piles much more fun. He tentatively took another sip from the bottle, wincing at the burn.

  “I was born in South America but I lived in Florida long enough to call it home. Not the panhandle, though. Further South, near the Everglades.”

  Kai pulled a face; he didn’t ever want to go back to the Everglades. It took him a minute to realize what he said. “How do you know I’m from the panhandle?”

  “Everybody knows who you are,” he told him. “The supernatural world gossips more than the tabloids.”

  Kai sat up on his elbow. “What do you mean?”

  “You are the boy who saved his charge instead of collecting her. Everybody is talking about what it means.”

  “What it means? Like how soon will the Grove come flay me alive?”

  Tate blinked at him, expression quizzical. “I guess. But just what it means in regards to the legend about the curse.”

  “Legend?”

  “Boy, they weren’t lying when they said they keep you cut off in that town. Is it true they control all information?”

  “Isn’t that what it’s like here?”

  He thought about it for a bit. “Not really. The Grove chooses who they bother and who they don’t. Information is available if you know where to look for it. I mean, if you choose to behave yourself then I guess you are limited in your sources but those of us with a slightly looser idea of right and wrong can usually find what we are looking for.”

  Kai chewed on that thought. He laid his head back down scooting closer to Tate. “So what’s the legend?”

  Tate hesitated before asking, “Did you know that
once upon a time your town was named Necromancy?”

  “Necromancy?” Kai repeated. “Catchy. Why the name change?”

  Tate smirked at him, “Ritual slaughter tends to leave a need for rebranding.”

  Kai gawked at him. “What?”

  47

  MACE

  Audrey led them down a long empty corridor until they reached a room at the end. She didn’t enter, just gestured to the doors. “He’s inside.”

  Mace pushed the door open, gearing himself up mentally to deal with the reaper. They had some unfinished business. He only hoped the Cael was willing to see reason. He heard Quinn’s gasp, loud in the quiet of the room, before he saw the reaper in the corner.

  Cael had that impression on people. He’d grown up collecting. He may look young, but his years of experience were written across his skin. Bands of black ink swirled along both arms from shoulder to fingertip. They crawled along his neck, across his bare head and disappearing underneath the black shirt he wore.

  Mace knew it was only the beginning. Cael’s collections were legendary as was his reputation for having no sympathy or remorse. He had just enough time to make eye contact before he found himself pulled off his feet by the collector, large hand squeezing his throat. It was a testament to the reapers physique. He didn’t possess any supernatural strength, just a dedication to violence and an overwhelming need for revenge. He slammed Mace hard against the wall, rattling the pictures residing there.

  “You,” the reaper growled. “You have the audacity to show your face to me?”

  Why was that always everybody’s first reaction to him? “Me, yes.” He managed to choke out. Cael shook him, forcing Mace to remind him, “You realize this is useless, I’m already dead.”

  “Let’s test the theory,” Cael told him, reaching for the blade he kept strapped between his shoulder blades.

  “You didn’t fare so well against me last time,” Mace reminded him. “None of you did.”

  The hand tightened. “Don’t,” Cael warned him. “Don’t you dare talk about that day.”

  Mace didn’t want this to escalate. He needed him cooperative and alive. “I’m not trying to start a fight. I just need some information.”