Life Reader

by Shea, K. M.

It did not want to go near the McCellen household.

  Fox didn’t understand why. With the parental units out of the house, ‘Ray-Ray’ was the only potential threat. She was only a page turner. It was the eldest brother—the guardian—who had the most magic, and he was gone.

  Unless, of course, the McCellens, as Fox suspected, were really the Wishmores. Then the petite page turner was to be held in terror. Fox still wasn’t sure how she made the hound of Baskerville, something that should be an illusion, real.

  The skull/specter stopped directly in front of the McCellen house, its head bursting into a giant blue flame.

  Fox huddled closer to the house and stared at Ray McCellen. “Come on little page turner. Notice it,” he mockingly whispered.

  As if she could hear him, Ray briefly looked up from her textbook. She tucked a copper curl behind her ear and returned her attention to her homework.

  Fox grunted in disgust and motioned for the specter to move closer.

  The floating skull silently screamed at him, but bobbed over to the sidewalk. It didn’t dare pass the threshold of the McCellen lawn. Fox had already lost one specter to a defensive shield and two to the aggressive weeping willow tree.

  Fox stared at Ray with burning intensity for many minutes. So long, in fact, that he had to pause, shifting his leather jacket and plethora of buckles that were strapped across his chest before plopping on the ground to relieve his legs that had fallen asleep.

  In that instant Ray McCellen looked up and peered out the giant living room picture window. She put aside her books and disappeared from the front room.

  Several moments later the front door creaked open and Ray clomped down the porch steps in a parade of purple crocs.

  She stared at the leering skull for several moments. She did not scream when it chattered its teeth at her, or when it blew florescent blue flames from its mouth. Instead she calmly turned on her heels and yelled as she clomped back up the steps and into the house. “Kristy, where’s Adam’s weapons textbook from his beginning guardian classes?” she shouted after opening the door, slamming it behind her.

  Fox, who had popped back up into his crouching position when the teenage girl stood up, fell back to the ground. “That was anticlimactic. Stupid girl. Certainly not the one we’re looking for,” he muttered.

  Fox narrowed his eyes before casting them to the right, where a shapeless blob huddled behind a bush. “What,” he snarled. “Do you want?”

  “Hell is empty and all the devils are here,” the grinning blob said, straightening up. The shape was slumped with a black, charred chin and large, yellow-stained teeth. The creature grinned at the boy from under a black cloak. A decayor. Definitely one of Korbin’s servants. Korbin was the only one with enough power to grant speech, although Kraken had probably given the creature to her. He had scores of decayors at his beck and call.

  “What do you want, sniveling beast?” Fox hissed, his noise twitching when the decayor’s burning stench filled his nostrils.

  The decayor ruffled its ratty, muddy cloak—large spiders fell out of it. It laughed, pouncing on one of the escapee spiders. “Korbin is concerned you are losing interest in the black dog Kaden Wishmore.”

  Fox shrugged, shifting his fiery eyes to the dark, starless sky. “Remind Korbin I was assigned the task of following up on Roc’s information that the McCellens might be the Wishmores. For being our EC leak his information is certainly weak.”

  “Yes, yes, but you still haven’t found anything,” the decayor snickered, shifting its robe to pull out a squeaking mouse.

  “I haven’t been watching the McCellen parents. I find their children more interesting and newsworthy.”

  The decayor released a high pitched giggle. “You find the copper haired girl attractive?” the giggle turned into a shriek when the mouse bit the decayor. “Nasty, nasty little pet,” it screeched, tossing the mouse into the air.

  Fox squelched the desire to throttle the annoying creature. “What does Korbin want?” Fox impatiently asked.

  “Oh, oh yes. Korbin says that I might need to remind you why you are searching for the Wishmores,” the decayor said, inching away from its protective bush covering.

  Fox snapped his eyes back on the grinning creature.

  “Yes, yes. Korbin says to remind you of what will happen if you keep failing,” the decayor said with a sick smile. It nimbly leaped aside, screeching as four daggers pierced the ground where it had crouched moments ago. “Korbin said you might get nasty,” the creature added, its grin growing wider still.

  Fox glanced at the cheerfully lit McCellen house before thrusting his arm out. He extended his fingers before clenching them into a fist, his burning eyes branding the decayor.

  In a fiery blaze the decayor was pulled flat to the ground, gagging and clawing at chains of fire that crossed its throat.

  “Tell Korbin to rot with the others!” Fox hissed after several moments before releasing the creature when it was moments away from strangulation.

  The decayor popped upright, madly giggling. “Evil you are, Fox of Hades. Evil! But that is all the better for us!” the creature laughed wildly before skipping off into the night, disappearing from sight.

  Fox took a breath and turned back to the specter, about to call it back in before leaving his observation post. Instead he halted when he saw the slight form of Rachel McCellen walking confidently around the perimeter of her house, having exited out the back door. Held in her left hand and leaning against her left shoulder was a scythe so monstrous it was larger than the girl that carried it.

  The specter bobbed furiously on the sidewalk, struggling to break free of Fox’s magic of authority that held it in place.

  Ray confidently walked across the lawn, not even bothering to spare the thrashing weeping willow a glance. She stopped several feet away from the specter, which was now engulfed by teal colored flames. It was terrified.

  Ray lifted the scythe off her shoulder and supported it with both arms before twisting and swinging.

  The curved blade cleaved the silently screeching specter in half. Instantly the ghostly apparition faded, sputtering like a dying sparkler.

  Ray shouldered the weapon and surveyed her yard. Her copper hair swayed in the breeze, and the fluorescent street lights sputtered, casting two black shadows behind her.

  Never before had Fox seen such a warlike page turner.

  Ray wriggled the scythe and smiled before twisting and heading back to the house. Halfway to the front door she discarded her weapon, tossing it aside like a piece of trash.

  The scythe evaporated before it hit the lawn.

  Fox breathed in between his teeth as Ray—no, Raven Wishmore—climbed the steps of the porch and entered her house again. He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth to cover his smile and muffle the few peals of dark laughter that slipped past his self-control.

  “She must have read that monstrosity from a book,” he laughed. “Oh Raven, Raven, Raven. I’ve got you now!”

  Chapter 10

  When Raven exited her school Monday afternoon, Alison Morris was waiting outside the front doors.

  “Did you have a nice day, Sweet Cakes?” Alison said, flicking her sunglasses up.

  “…Yes,” Raven said, slowing down her pace while eyeing Alison.

  Alison jingled a set of car keys. “I’ve been dispatched by our derogatory library director to pick you up and bring you to the library.”

  Raven stopped moving all together. “What? Why?”

  “I think he’s afraid you won’t show, but it might be more than that,” Alison shrugged. “Come on, my car is parked in the visitor’s lot.”

  “I was going to come,” Raven said, dragging her heels.

  “Uh-huh, I’m sure you were, Cupcake,” Alison said, turning around to march back to Raven. “Look, think you could get that little rear of yours in gear? Director Eastgate wanted to speak to you before the rest of the page turners get there.”

  Dread filled Raven’s stom
ach like water, and she plunged after Alison, throwing herself in the older woman’s car before closing her eyes. She was going to be fired, that had to be the reason for the escort service.

  Director Eastgate was going to fire her and hustle her outside before she could complain to any of the other page turners. Her role in her father’s mission was going to end, she was a failure. To make things worse, she was going to be fired by a guy she hated.

  “This is not going to end well,” Raven muttered as Alison started the car and blazed out of the parking lot.

  “No kidding, driving in this area is always a zoo,” Alison snorted, beeping at a car before making a swerving turn.

  Raven pinched the bridge of her nose and started to give herself a mental pep talk. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t beg to keep her job. She had her pride as a page turner.

  The car ride was excruciating for Raven, not because Alison was unkind, but because of the death sentence that loomed in the horizon.

  Raven had turned so pale by the time Alison guided her through the library and into the kitchen, it caused the children’s librarian to pause. “Are you feeling OK, Sweet Pea? Do you need something? You’re lookin’ pretty ghostly.”

  “I’m fine,” Raven tightly said when they stopped outside the director’s office.

  “Are you sure? Eastgate won’t like it if you throw up on his carpet,” Alison said, placing her hands on her hips.

  “I’m fine, I just want to get this over with,” Raven repeated, squaring her shoulders and pulling herself up straight.

  Alison looked amused but reached out and smartly wrapped her knuckles on the closed door before opening it. “Director Eastgate, I brought Rachel just like you asked.”

  “Thank you, Alison,” a frosty voice said from the dim depths of the office. “Please, come in Rachel.”

  Raven clenched her fists to keep them from shaking before she slipped inside the office. Alison closed the door behind Raven, leaving the petite page turner alone with the director.

  There was certainly a familial resemblance between Daire and the library director. Director Eastgate sat in his chair with an even more imperial air than Daire. They shared the same distinct golden hair shade, but where Daire’s eyes were bars of gold, director Eastgate’s eyes were icy black. He reminded Raven of the fairy tale ice kings she used to read about as a kid: pale, graceful, and wretchedly cold.

  She doubted he was capable of a smile.

  Raven tried to speak twice before finally managing the feat. “I’m Rachel McCellen, you wanted to speak to me, sir?”

  Director Eastgate pressed his long fingers together and studied Raven with his deadly cold eyes. “I did. I am the Saint Cloud Library Director, Isaac Eastgate.”

  Raven nodded and clasped her hands behind her back, pinching her wrists to keep herself from cowering. “Yes sir.”

  “Rachel…,” he started.

  Raven winced and mentally braced herself.

  “Welcome to Saint Cloud. I apologize for waiting so long to introduce myself,” he said, his voice steely cold.

  Raven blinked, shocked speechless by his welcome.

  “It has come to my attention that my ignorant, useless nephew has declared the book sections of the library off limit to you. You can ignore his insipid rules. You are welcome to explore all parts of the library.”

  Raven couldn’t help it, her jaw actually dropped.

  “I am aware that you are very nearly a fourth level page. Desk pages are given free rein to manage themselves, so I will be extending that opportunity to you since the prefect is apparently an inept dolt and unable to properly manage his subordinates.”

  “Sir, I…. I,” Raven said.

  “Is there anything you have need of, or want?” Isaac Eastgate asked in a steely tone. “New books, a computer, a room of your own?”

  Raven mutely shook her head.

  The director leaned back in his chair. “Very well, you may leave in that case. But before you go, understand this,” he started.

  Raven froze in her tracks, waiting for the death blow.

  “If any of the page turners give you grief, as the Montamos boys did about reading, please tell me immediately and I will deal with them. Is that clear?”

  “Yes sir,” Raven said before practically throwing herself outside his office. She shut his door and leaned against it, waiting for the sound of her thundering heart to soften.

  Jeremiah and Daire found her like that several minutes later.

  “The director met with you as planned?” Daire asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

  “….Yes,” Raven nodded.

  “He spoke with you about your conduct?” Daire asked, Raven could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

  “…Yes,” Raven nodded again.

  Daire leaned back, seemingly surprised. “Oh.”

  Jeremiah looked back and forth between Daire and Raven with great interest.

  “Daire… You don’t get along with your uncle, do you?” Raven said, her tone pensive and thoughtful.

  “Nope! Not at all! Hahahah!” Jeremiah’s smug laughter was choked off when Daire hit him in the stomach.

  “What makes you think that?” Daire said, nonchalantly tipping his head back.

  Raven tapped her lip in mock thoughtfulness. “I don’t know. Maybe it was the fact that he called you an ignorant dolt.”

  Daire’s right eye twitched, and Jeremiah started laughing again.

  “He yelled at you I expect?” Daire said, snapping his jaw shut.

  “No, he didn’t,” Raven said, shivering slightly.

  She was not at all reassured when Daire’s eyes practically popped out of his skull and Jeremiah cut his laughter short to look wide eyed and frightened.

  Raven shivered again before setting out for the kitchen, leaving the dumbstruck prefect and second behind.

  Asher and Aron found Raven sitting on the stairs that led the way to the second floor.

  “Hey,” Aron nodded.

  Asher frowned. “How did you get here? We didn’t see you walking ahead of us.”

  “Alison gave me a ride. Director Eastgate wanted to speak to me,” Raven said, leaning back on her elbows that were propped against the stairs.

  Aron blinked. “Alison Morris? The children’s librarian?”

  Raven nodded. “Yep.”

  Asher’s frown grew deeper as wrinkles appeared on his forehead. “What did the director want?”

  Raven licked her lips as she considered the question. “Truthfully? I don’t know. He introduced himself to me, that was about it.”

  Asher’s frown turned reflective as he shifted his gaze from Raven’s face to his feet. Aron was the one who spoke next. “So, what are you going to do this afternoon?”

  “I think I’ll help Royce for a bit for starters. What about you guys? You’ll play video games?” Raven guessed.

  “No, today we have plans to watch some TV,” Aron said, glancing at his watch. “Actually our show is about to start. Asher do you want to get the TV turned on?”

  Asher blinked. “Aren’t you coming with?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but I want to ask Raven about that kanji we were talking about earlier. I think the stroke order I’m using is the right one,” Aron said, narrowing his eyes as this twin.

  Asher scoffed and returned the gesture. “What, you’re still going on about that? It’s not that big of a deal. Fine, I’ll go. You’re such a perfectionistic freak sometimes,” Asher said, shaking his head in disgust at Aron. He gave Raven a half smile before abruptly turning and stalking towards the kitchen.

  “Aron, I doubt I can be any help when it comes to Japanese,” Raven started. “I’ve only taken it for a week, and I missed the whole first month of school.”

  Aron plopped down next to Raven. “I lied,” he cheerfully said after Asher disappeared through the kitchen door. “I don’t need confirmation. I know I’m right.”

  Raven stared at the twin with apprehension and considered scooting up to
a higher stair.

  “I just needed to get rid of him. Look, I know you’re still leery about us. And you’ve probably got a right to be like that,” Aron said, settling down on his stair so he could face Raven.

  “Probably?” Raven said, her breath coming out in a hiss. “You two openly mocked me and terrorized me! You told me—to my face—that you hate me! You were both still ticked at me after the whole decayor thing—”

  “You’re wrong,” Aron interrupted. “We were going to apologize.”

  Raven couldn’t help the scorn that belched up from her stomach. “Oh, that’s likely. You two were there when Daire had me on the cutting block, and you were more than willing to help him.”

  “No, you’re still wrong,” Aron said, his voice loud. He glanced around to make sure they hadn’t earned more than the odd look or two before he continued. “When you and Daire were screaming at each other you never let us speak. Asher was going to defend you.”

  “No way. I saw you before the fight and Asher practically hissed at me!”

  “He did not, you’re exaggerating it. Besides—we’re not the best around girls, we can’t help it! Do you realize how much social interaction we’ve had with females? It’s pretty much limited to the stupid twits who can’t tell us apart,” Aron said.

  Raven started at Aron, who earnestly returned her gaze. “Alright. I’ll bite. Please explain.”

  Aron nestled further into his stair, a supremely satisfied smile on his face before he grew serious. “Truthfully, we’ve been interested in you since the first day. There’s no way you could be the stupid flake you were pretending to be and have the reflexes and intelligence to impale a book with a stiletto heel.”

  Raven made a pained noise. She had screwed up that early in the game?! Furthermore, wasn’t it on the first day that Royce had warned Raven she shouldn’t catch the twins’ attention?

  “Plus you were too perfect for Jeremiah. You said the right things and looked perfect, all while being a third level page turner?” Aron said, shaking his head.

  “Yeah, but you shouldn’t have known about that until I mentioned it,” Raven reminded him. “You two looked shocked.”