by J. L. Weil
Crash didn’t seem the least bit intimated, a testament to either his bravado or his stupidity. “Who am I to stand in the way of true love? If you had been here two minutes earlier, Death Scythe, you would have heard me tell her that I had no interest in marriage. Not even to the White Raven.”
Zane had gone quiet, but anger rolled off him. He didn’t look altogether convinced at Crash’s admission. “Then why precisely were your lips anywhere near hers?”
There was a tinged ribbon of guilt roaming inside me. I hadn’t immediately shoved Crash away, and I had no logical answer for as to why. The only solace was I could sense Zane’s anger was entirely pointed at Crash. He would have felt through our soul connection that I held nothing but neutral feelings toward Heath’s heir.
“Curiosity,” Crash answered.
Challenge dripped from Zane. “Everything is a joke to you.”
“Zane,” I placed my hand on his chest, looking over my shoulder into the woods. The scent of death overpowered my nostrils, making them burn. “You better put on your superhero cape. We’re about to get some unwanted villains.”
He glanced down at me, eyes unfazed. “Piper, how many times do I have to tell you? I’m not the hero.”
My hands clutched his shirt. “You are to me.” Ice coated my insides. Hallows. They were approaching, fast.
The hardness in Zane’s expression softened. “Declan, I hope you’re ready to unleash your inner Chuck Norris.”
Declan cracked his knuckles. “I’m already game. Let’s use these assholes as dartboards.”
“Should I call—” …for backup, but it was too late. They were already here. A strange, almost prickling of anticipation twisted through me as the hallows emerged from the tree lines. Their eyes appeared first, breaking through the darkness like a dozen lanterns. They dipped and glided along the ground, coming straight for us.
I braced myself as the frightening hissing filled the air. The sight was jarring, and I was so glad to have Zane, Declan, and even Crash present.
The four of us were lined up in front of my car, the clearing quickly filling with the cold mist of the departed. “I love when people come back from the dead. Juices my zombie fetish,” Crash said dryly. “You up for this, cupcake?”
I remained in place, trying to control my inner turmoil and ignored Crash.
Zane, on the other hand, didn’t have my self-control. He pointed a finger in Crash’s face. “By God, if you try any funny business, I’ll kill you with my bare hands. And she’s not your cupcake.”
The sucky thing about being in the middle of nowhere…no streetlights. The only light we had was the measly bit of moonlight illuminating through the thick trees, hitting small sections of the clearing. I was going to have to rely heavily on my other senses and instinct.
A strip of darkness filled the center of the glade, and that was where the ghosts came from. Straight down the middle. As they drew closer, so did the scent of decay. It was a noticeable smell I’d never detected before, but as my banshee abilities strengthened, so did my other senses.
“Game on,” Crash said, and stepped out of his body, emerging a wolf. He let a howl, long and high.
Instantly, the air became degrees cooler, more so as Zane cloaked himself in his shadows and my veins flowed with a bright light. If things went haywire, Zane and I always had our secret weapon. No use going in all guns blazing, not until we knew how many we were dealing with.
The fight was on.
Three hallows descended. Being typical guys, Zane, Declan, and Crash engaged before I had a chance. Crash took a wide gash out of his target’s calf, an action that wasn’t a fatal wound, but would merely disable him until the final blow. Declan spun and delivered that hit to the screaming hallow.
Zane took a different approach, one clean swipe, removing the head. It rolled over the dirt before detonating into nothing. I wasn’t sure if it was on purpose, but the guys seem to take care of the hallows before they had a chance to reach me.
“Impressive,” said a voice to my left. It was a voice that haunted my dreams, one I wasn’t likely to forget. She was the first person I ever killed.
Estelle.
This bitch just keeps coming back.
I angled to the side to get a better look. Besides being abnormally pale and the glossy eyes, she looked like…Estelle. “I thought I killed you. For good,” I gritted.
She smirked. “You thought wrong. That’s the great thing about being dead. It’s full of surprises.”
“Your timing sucks, as usual.” My eyes slide sideways to Crash. I needed to know that he was with me. This was his sister, she was the very thing reapers trained to fight, but could he send her back to the other side? Could he do what must be done? He harbored some not-so-friendly feelings about how she died. Would seeing her ghost instill his flame for revenge?
I knew what it was like to have to face someone you cared about. What it felt like to stick a blade through their heart, to siphon their soul dry, and I didn’t wish it on anyone, not even Crash.
He stood, no longer a wolf, but as Crash, his eyes roaming over the figure who was his sister, but at the same time wasn’t. “Estelle?” his voice cracked.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she greeted. “With her, nonetheless.”
Obviously there was no love lost between Estelle and I. “How many times am I going to have to kill you?” I snapped, before I thought how Crash might feel about me killing his sister again. He had to know it must be done.
She grinned. “You still don’t get it do you? Priceless.”
“Estelle, you don’t have to do this,” Crash pleaded.
I could all too well imagine what was going on in Crash’s head. Seeing someone you loved turned into a vicious being was a knife to the heart.
Her movements were jerky as her eyes acknowledged her brother. “You know I do,” she hissed. “She deserves it after what she did to me.”
Snapping out of his daze, Crash sadly shook his head. “What Piper did? Correct me if I’m wrong, but it was our father who made you do it, not Piper.”
She gave a twisted laugh. “Nice play. Father would be proud.”
The corners of Crash’s eyes crinkled. “Have it your way, sis.”
If Estelle’s plan was to dig her own grave, it worked. “How do we know this isn’t a set-up?” Zane’s voice thundered over the chaos.
Crash reached in his back pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “You don’t. I guess you have to trust me.” His gaze slid sideways at me and for a second, I thought he might attack me. His hazel eyes flared crimson—his wolf eyes.
But nope. It wasn’t him that leapt forward, but the pack of hallows dying to get their pasty grubs on us.
Crash and Zane backpedaled, moving in opposite directions as they surrounded us from all sides. We each took a corner, making a square, protecting each other’s backs. The guys took on the mob of hallows led by Estelle, and that left me with crazypants herself. I leveled a hard glare at her, and my anger faded into determination.
She advanced on me. I stalked forward. We met in the middle, and I wasted no time. In the moment, I didn’t know anything but blind rage. I was sick of people thinking I was weak. I was tired of being disregarded. But mostly, I was done being attacked by the dead and seeing them kill innocent souls. No more.
I increased my speed and threw a punch laced with power, but she sidestepped, avoiding impact. Arcing back, I narrowly avoided having my eyes clawed out. She recovered in a rush, nails slicing and swinging, teeth snarling. Her almond-shaped eyes no longer twinkled. She had been the first friend I’d made on the island, or so I’d thought.
“Can’t you do better than that?” she taunted.
I grinned. “Oh, we’re just getting started.” I swiped my fist through the air again. Boom. Contact. Unfortunately, she returned the gesture, a tit for tat. She nailed me in the left temple. The force of her hit had me stumbling backwards, but I’d learned a few things since our last match
and was back on my feet. As I approached, I whipped out my glowing blades, the tips slashing into the sides of her arms.
Some people got off on drugs. Estelle got off on trying to kill me. She ignored the cuts that oozed black goo down her arms and threw an elbow toward me. I sliced downward, blocking her blow with my blade.
“Incoming,” Declan hollered behind me.
Zane was suddenly beside me, solid and formidable. A hallow had snuck in close, preparing to rip me to bits. Darkness ate the ground at my feet, wrapping me in a cape of shadows. Gloom sprung from the pores in his hand, quickly disposing of the ghost.
Zane eyes met mine. A thousand emotions and words transpired, our bond making it easy to decipher. Be careful. I love you. My eyes blinked and he shot forward, onto the next, leaving me with the queen of crazysauce.
Panting, I circled her. We parried. She went left. I went right. And vice versa. On a subconscious level I was aware of the fighting around me. Hallows. Hallows. Hallows. They were everywhere. Swarming and buzzing like killer bees. Crash, Zane, and Declan moved through them, one at a time.
When she made her next move, I was ready. Forget honor. Estelle fought dirty, and so did I. Bending a knee, I kicked out with my other leg, catching her in the gut. As she doubled over, I elbowed her in the back of the head. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay down.”
Fighting had become ingrained into my blood. I couldn’t say when it happened. Maybe it had been there all this time and coming here, training with Zane, had unlocked some badass part of me I hadn’t known existed. It sounded good.
The last person I expected to see popped up on the other side of Estelle. Crash grabbed onto his sister’s arms and forced her to her feet. “Do it,” he roared painfully at me.
Estelle screamed, and in an oh-so-not pretty way.
No hesitation. I lunged, arms glowing brightly and lit her ass up. Her mouth dropped open in a silent cry. “Say hello to the other side,” I said, dryly. I hoped to never see her face again.
Her body didn’t explode in the usual burst of shattered light, but slowly shriveled up until the only thing left was the drab and tattered dress she’d been wearing.
Well, that was new.
I didn’t think much more of it, as my eyes drank in the scene around me. If I hadn’t witnessed the fight, I never would have known something horrible had occurred. Crash moved soundlessly to my side. “If we’re keeping score, that’s a point for me. I know you still don’t trust me, but I think my actions today say something.”
Zane frowned as he came to stand on the other side of me, gaze staring out over the field. He was troubled.
“What is it?” I asked, moving closer to him
His body was still tense and firm for battle. “I don’t know. Something’s not right.”
Joy.
I wasn’t about to stick around and find out. Tugging on the end of Zane’s sleeve, I let him know I was ready to skedaddle. It didn’t take a whole lot of convincing once he looked down at my face and saw the exhaustion. “Come on. I’ll drive,” he said.
No argument from me. I gladly handed him the keys and sunk into the Jeep, and I didn’t bother to ask why were we heading in the opposite direction of the manor. It didn’t matter as long as wherever he took me had a bed and him. All I needed was a couple of solid hours of sleep, but when we got back to Zane’s, my restlessness made it difficult. My body was spent, but my mind was swirling with questions, buzzing and persistent. With my hand resting on Zane’s steadily beating heart, I finally felt myself pulled under just as the sun was rising over the water.
Chapter 15
That night I dreamed.
I stood alone. The world surrounding me was barren, a wasteland. Dead bodies littered the grounds where trees, flowers, and grass once all grew and thrived. The air was dusty, stale and vile. It made my nostrils burn and my stomach pitch.
There was nothing to indicate I was in danger, yet my skin prickled with unease. I could have sworn a hundred pairs of eyes watched me, stalked me, hunted me. I was the prey, and the stampede was about to begin. Survival of the fittest.
My fight or flight response kicked in as I spun in a circle, eyes sharpening and taking in every detail, searching for any signs I wasn’t alone. Barefoot, my toes sunk into the burning sand. The unpleasant sensation brought my attention to my attire. Why am I barefoot, and what the heck am I wearing?
This had to be a dream, because I would never be caught dead wearing the one-shoulder white goddess dress that floated around me as the balmy breeze picked up. The flimsy material was like silk on my skin, such a stark contrast to the world around me. Bone fragments, sand, and dust swirled in the wind, embedding in the delicate fabric and tangling in my hair.
I shoved wisps out of my face, wishing for a hair tie, and began to walk. No matter how many steps I aimlessly took or how many minutes went by, the scenery never changed. It was like strolling in a loop. My frustration grew to anxiousness, turning to a bubble of panic inside that grew at an alarming rate. I closed my eyes and squeezed my fingers together, telling myself to wake from this nightmare.
When nothing happened and the sweat was still beading over my flushed skin, there was only one option. Unable to take the solitude a moment longer, I screamed.
The release was exhilarating, and with it went my edginess, my doubt, my uncertainty. I was calm. If something was out there. Let them come. I could handle it.
I opened my eyes.
Nothing had changed, but it was as if I could see clearer. The sky was a weird orange, lacking any true sunlight, but the heat was insufferable. The windstorm waged on around me, but no longer hindering me.
“I wondered how long you would last,” a feminine voice spoke. From within the sandstorm materialized a woman with long, wavy flaxen hair. She was hard to see at first, her skin and hair blending with the sand, but as she emerged from the flurry, I was struck by her beauty. She pursed her rosebud lips. “You’re stronger than you appear.”
A goddess. It was the first thing that came to mind as I stared at the mystery woman. “I get that a lot,” I replied, sizing this newcomer up. Was she friend or foe?
Her laugh was sensual and inviting. “I’m glad to see the rapier wit hasn’t been diluted down the line.”
“Who are you?” I inquired. She chatted like we were old friends.
“Do you not recognize your own blood?” Her eyes studied my face. There was something very otherworldly about her, a glow to her skin, a familiarity I couldn’t explain. “Huh,” she commented in a way that made it sound as if she might have misjudged me at first glance.
The longer I stared at her, the better sense I got about her. There was an energy surrounding her I identified. “You’re a banshee,” I guessed.
Her facial expression changed, as if I had gravely offended her. “Not any banshee,” she said with an air of importance. “I’m the banshee. Celeste.”
I let her words soak in. “You’re the original banshee?”
She gave a small bow, her skirt flowing and rippling out behind her. “In the flesh, daughter of my daughters.”
I’d been able to converse with the dead before, Rose and Mom, but this was taking mediumship to a new level. “How is this possible?” I asked.
“Surely you know it’s part one of your gifts, to communicate with White Ravens of the past.”
I had known, but I assumed it was only banshees I knew in the world of the living, plus it never hurt to be over cautious. As far as I was concerned, anyone I didn’t know was a threat. However, I couldn’t deny a sense of kinship. “I only recently found out what I am. My abilities are just revealing themselves, but I knew it was possible to communicate with other banshees. I never expected to receive a visit from the original.”
“Ah yes, that’s right. You were brought up in the mortal world. No knowledge of who or what you are.” She brushed a piece of hair off my face, sympathy and regret shining in her emerald eyes. “And I thought I had it
bad. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“What happened?” I asked, my gaze returning to the barren state of Earth.
She took a step back, spreading out her arms. “This, my daughter, is a warning, a premonition, if you will, of things to come if you do not seal the wards between realms. Your world will fall prey to the dead, and in the process no longer exist. No mankind. No life. No reapers. Only death for all.”
Talk about a Debbie Downer. Celeste didn’t sugarcoat it; she laid it all out there. This was what we had to look forward to. Death. Destruction. Desolation. Doom. If there was even a sliver of a chance that this could be our future, I had to stop it. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. This couldn’t be the future outcome of my world. “How do I prevent this?” I mean, there had to be a reason she appeared to me in a dream. To help me, right?
In the back of my mind, a voice was telling me that would be too easy. Saving the world was rarely ever that simple. I wanted to tell that little annoying voice to jump off a bridge.
“If only I could tell you what must be done. It is forbidden by the laws of nature for the past to interfere. I can tell you restoring the veil will take a great sacrifice just as it does to remove it, but the sacrifice is different for each. Mine would not be the same as yours.”
What a relief. I wasn’t willing to turn Zane into a hallow, as I suspected Heath had done with his daughter. But what did I have to sacrifice if not love? I couldn’t believe that was all she had. Her information was basically useless. “There has to be a way,” I insisted, refusing to wake up without something tangible. “Tell me what I must sacrifice? My firstborn child? What does the universe want?”
Celeste was petite like me, but the fact that she floated gave her an inch two over me. “You know it is never that easy. Power doesn’t come without a price. It is your blood that makes you capable of this trying task.” Death knocked. But there was no one home. Earth was no longer a place for the living.
“I’ve given up my entire life. My mom. The father I grew up with. A friend. Rose. What did I have left? Nothing about being a banshee has been easy,” I grumbled. Didn’t I deserve a break before I cracked?