Reaping Havoc: Kiara Blake Book 1

by Kinsley Burke

  Glancing down, I studied the salt and pepper. My mind conjured up every scenario where salt could squeeze past pepper without notice. None. No scenarios. Nothing conjured. My mind remained frustratingly blank. Napkin may or may not have been aggressively thrown at Pepper as I pushed against the back of my seat. Hadley still stared. And nibbled.

  “What?” I asked.

  She tossed the remainder of her fry onto her plate. “What are you doing? You’ve been playing with the salt shaker since I arrived.”

  “Making strategic battle plans.”

  “Battle plans?”

  I nodded.

  “For what?”

  “For taking out Logan Bradley.” I swiped out a hand and knocked over the shaker. Salt poured across the table. “The salt is me, and in every scenario, I end up dead. Every single one of them. Dead.”

  We were seated in the diner two blocks off campus. The law library stood in its bulking glory three blocks east. The dumpy cafe, home to the greasiest fries in the state and pickled ice cream, was the furthest I could drag Hadley from the library’s legal allure. I’d never understood the attraction. For the law library, that was. I felt plenty of attraction for the greasy fries.

  Unfortunately, my days of keeping diner management from my secret that a homeless urchin had commandeered their corner booth were numbered. The old woman rocking the white apron from behind the front counter held a skeptical look every time her gaze fell my way. And her inspecting eyes landed on me a lot. Once per every full rotation of the rim of the glass she was wiping with a rag. The waitress had been wiping that same one for the past twenty minutes. But I couldn’t blame her. Lack of Sleep and me mixed like oil and water. A mirror wasn’t required to know my hair was stringy, and my red eyes were swollen. My new fashion statement. Twice in one week.

  “How exactly are you planning out a battle by using table condiments?” Hadley asked.

  The salt lay gutted on its side while its white speckled blood made a mess across the tabletop. Pepper stood tall, now proudly draped in a shawl of victory suspiciously resembling my napkin.

  “I can’t do it.” My voice caught, and I cleared my throat. Eyelids blinked back tears. “I can’t fight a ghost.”

  “Hey?”

  My hooded gazed focused up to concerned eyes. “He was in my apartment.”

  “Who?”

  “Sebastian.” I looked back down at the white speckled blood. It had become red, and mine. “Sebastian Balázs. He gave me one week, Hadley. One week.”

  She reached out and squeezed my hand. The warmth of her palm felt reassuring. But that encouragement was false hope. Nothing would make my life right again unless I somehow developed crazy ninja skills overnight. And even then… nothing guaranteed that a good ass kicking was a match against two irate ghosts determined to avoid Hell as much as Cookie Monster was determined to steal cookies.

  “I met a guy online,” Hadley said.

  “Huh? What happened to Devon?”

  “Oh—not like that, I mean.” She grimaced. “Devon and I broke up, but I’m not trying to date this online guy. I—”

  “Hold on. Back. Go back. Break up? When?”

  “Last month.”

  “And you didn’t tell me this, why?”

  “I… no reason. I didn’t want to talk about it. It’s over. No big deal.”

  “So the asshole dumped you?”

  “He said I was too busy with school. He said I never had time for him.”

  “That asshole.”

  Hadley grinned. “You already said that.”

  “I’ll say it again. Asshole. Devon’s loss. You’re too good for him.”

  “Well.” She cleared her throat and gave my hand another squeeze. “Some guy I met online—that I’m not dating—has had experience with Satan and his contracts. I’m meeting him for coffee Sunday morning.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Hadley, this could be some crazy person. How many humans do you think have actually interacted with Satan and continued breathing?”

  “I have to try. You said you have only one week. What happens after one week?”

  “I’m taken to Hell.”

  Her determined Hadley Look settled onto her face, and my words of protest whimpered back into submission. She was going to make a hell of a trial attorney.

  “Kiara, I’ve got to do this. I’ll be fine. It’s a public place, and I’ll be careful.”

  “I’ll kick your butt if you go missing.”

  “You’ll have to find it first.”

  “Oh, trust me, I will.” I attempted a smile, but my chest burned. And not from the thought of my BFF meeting up with some potential homicidal psycho. I rubbed at the irritation as I thought about how much I sucked at finding Logan Bradley.

  “Where did you get that pendant?” Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward for a closer inspection. “Is that it?”

  “Yup.”

  “Why are you wearing it?”

  “Because the vampire told me it would enhance my demon powers.”

  “The vampire—what? They really exist?”

  “Shhhh.” My quick smile and nod got the few nosy patrons turning back to their own meals. Except for the guy two booths in front of ours. I wasn’t certain if he was checking out Hadley, or if he hoped she’d score him with some coveted info for becoming a member of the undead. He already looked the part, but the sunlight streaming through the pane glass windows informed me he didn’t yet hold a valid membership card. I turned back to Hadley. “Hey, hush, or people will think you’re a nut. Yes, they exist, and one named Tristan said he’d train me to take out the marked ghosts.”

  Hadley gaped at me while I relished in the only perk I had going for me in my crazy week: her stunned speechlessness. I wanted to snap a picture of this rare moment, prove its existence since Hadley unable to speak was up there with legends like aliens and Big Foot. Hadley always had a quick comment to everything.

  Her mouth closed. She gulped down half a glass of water, and she leaned forward. “What’s he like?”

  “Charming and sexy.”

  She grinned, and I knew she was envisioning Ian Somerhalder. Not too far off, actually.

  “And seriously dangerous,” I added. “Vampires really do hunt humans, Hadley. You’re a human.”

  “Does he look like Ian Somerhalder?”

  Ha! I knew it. “Vampires aren’t sexy, only dangerous. What part of they hunt humans are you not comprehending?”

  “But you said he’s sexy.”

  Crap, how had that slipped out? “Back to that feeding on humans thing? How can that be sexy?”

  “What about you? Are you worried he’ll feed on you?”

  “Well, I’m not completely human, am I? He said demon blood is acidic. I’m safe from all pointy fangs.”

  “Kiara.”

  Damn. “Yes, I’m worried. But I have to hunt these ghosts, and he’s the only one willing to explain the process.”

  “Not if he’s going to eat you.”

  “Hey, you’re the one meeting a crazy psycho who claims to have negotiated with Satan and lived to tell the tale.”

  “Touché. So if vampires and demons are real, what else is out there?”

  “Oh, crap. I hadn’t even thought about that. Does this mean Big Foot really exists?”

  Apologies would have to be made to my brother for the years of calling him a liar after standing outside his bedroom window at night with a flashlight and cutout until he ran screaming into my parents’ room. His cries that Big Foot was out to get him would always drown out my laughter as I snuck back into the house. Addie once came on a family camping trip my parents hadn’t realized she’d joined. To this day, I still hadn’t figured out how she accomplished such large footprints outside our tent while we slept. Good times.

  As I righted the salt shaker—Apron Woman standing behind the counter seemed to have taken exception to its untimely death—a shimmer caught the corner of my eye and tu
rned my head. Weird. Nothing there except a petite woman and her friend sitting at the table to my right. But my stare remained, and I knew a strong possibility of being called the nut I’d warned Hadley about existed. The petite woman’s animated face left me fascinated as she spoke to her friend, and her clear translucent skin shot sparks of jealousy zipping through my veins. My top of the line beauty products couldn’t compete with her flawless complexion. And then the shimmer thing happened again. Except it wasn’t a shimmer, it was more of a flutter.

  “Hadley,” I whispered. “I don’t think she’s human.”

  “Not human?” Hadley slid a peek to her left, then leaned forward and in a whisper asked, “What is she?”

  “Well, she has pointy ears.” How had that slipped past me until now? "And sometimes she projects a strange shimmer, or perhaps a flutter, but I can’t make out which.”

  Translucent wings from the woman’s back popped into view and fluttered high, shimmering for several seconds before evaporating into air. She paused in her conversation, turned to me with a smile and a wink and resumed speaking to her friend.

  “Oh, wow." Hadley breathed. "Fairy."

  “Yeah.”

  “Did Aunt Kate ever talk about fairies?”

  “Aunt Kate talks about lots of things. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize I was supposed to listen.”

  “You’ve got to ask her.” Hadley picked up another fry from her plate. “Ask Aunt Kate about everything out there and pay attention this time. Now, explain to me this pendant. It gives you powers? Can it summon the ghost you’re after?”

  “Uh, I don’t think so.” I tucked my chin into my chest and tried looking down at the pendant. “Tristan said it enhances my existing powers, which sucks because I was hoping for telekinesis. From what he said, apparently a lot of cambions have that power, and if I have to accept being partially demon, can’t I have some cool powers to go with it?”

  “Have you noticed anything at all different since you put it on?”

  “Remember how my closet door is warped and it sticks?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I gave it a gentle tug this morning and took it off its hinges.”

  “Off?”

  “Completely.”

  “So you have super strength?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t like wearing this.” My hand touched the warm metal. “This pendant, it feels wrong. It’s hot and irritating on my skin. Nothing like my mother’s pendant. But I think hers gave me strength, too. Which is weird.”

  “How did your mom’s pendant make you feel?”

  “Complete.” I shook my head. “But that doesn’t matter. It’s gone.”

  Hadley turned away. “That was my fault.”

  “No, it wasn’t. Don’t ever think that.”

  Her chin tightened in stubbornness, but I clearly saw the chunk of vulnerability she worked hard to keep hidden with a rough exterior. Hadley had first put up a shield of armor eleven years ago during our sophomore year of high school. Toby had been dating Lacey for two weeks when his brilliant smile stopped me dead in my tracks one day in the school hallway somewhere between English and Phys Ed. There had been a lot of flirtation (him) and several speechless grunts (me). At the end of the three minutes of bliss, I’d scored a Friday night date with Toby, and Hadley a double date with his friend, Scott.

  Brain had conveniently forgotten about Lacey Briggs. Later that Lacey thing would bite me in the butt. It was Later when my fuzzy scattered on cloud nine brain recalled incoherent Toby and Lacey break-up comments. Toby had mentioned them during our hallway conversational delight. Then, Brain had a skipping problem of the hallway memory, and I hadn’t been made aware of it until Later. Much like an old DVD, all scratched up and jumping over the important parts, because Then Brain was all like Lacey who? Later it was Lacey, aw, crap. Trouble. Brain finally ran a diagnostic analysis on itself and concluded it had been replaying a badly jumbled movie inside my mind. Later, after Brain sorted out the facts and recalled one Lacey Briggs, Lacey had made certain to inform me that it was a break between her and Toby, and not a break-up. Who knew a difference existed? But that was Lacey’s justification senior year when she stole my prom date while I waited for him and the limo on prom night.

  “We shouldn’t have snuck out,” Hadley said, thinking back to that night.

  “But we did. How’s it your fault that I stole my mom’s pendant?”

  Hadley popped another French fry into her mouth and refused to meet my eye.

  The dates with Toby and Scott hadn’t exactly been legal. As in: both sets of parents had decreed no dating until the age of sixteen. Hadley and I were still fifteen, mere months away from our sixteenth birthdays. But to the parents, a couple of months might as well have been years. Toby and Scott were seventeen. We knew the parental units wouldn’t understand, so we did what any clever fifteen-year-olds did when faced with an unfair situation: we went to each other’s houses to work on homework.

  I had dressed in my best skirt and a brand new silk tank. Only one piece of jewelry could complement the fiery red of the silk: my mother’s pendant. It was a family heirloom, passed down through the oldest daughter for generations. For a couple of thousand years, if Aunt Kate were to be believed. My mother scoffed at Aunt Kate’s superstitious beliefs that the pendant contained magical Celtic powers gifted by a Celtic goddess of war, yet my mother had kept it protectively tucked away. But I had known of its secret hiding location. And as the cool metal nestled against my chest as if it belonged, confidence had welled inside of me. I sensed the power as I peered into the bathroom mirror and knew my very first date would be the best one ever.

  The evening air had smelled fresh. Didn’t even know what fresh was supposed to smell like, but that was how the air seemed to me as I walked the few short blocks to the convenience store where Hadley and I were meeting the guys. First dates for both of us, and we were going to a movie.

  Ten minutes after Toby’s brand new pickup truck had pulled into the parking lot to collect us, we were out by the lake. The movie theater nowhere in sight. A picnic basket held plenty of food. Toby said he wanted our first dates to be romantic. Looking back, I realized, at least to particular seventeen-year-old boys, being romantic was equivalent to getting laid. But the getting laid part wasn’t even a speck of comprehension to my love-struck fifteen-year-old mind. As I chewed on a fudge brownie to calm the nervous churning inside my stomach, I stared at Toby’s lips and wondered what our first kiss would feel like. That’s all dates were supposed to be about, right? A movie, or dinner, a fabulous kiss and then a dreamy ride home to end the perfect evening. It was then followed by a sleepless night as you eagerly waited for school so you could let all the other kids know that you were officially a couple. Depending on the time of year, either Homecoming or Prom dress planning could commence. So naive.

  Hadley’s screams were the first to alert me about the lack of romance that night. Scott had taken her over to the pier to show her something out on the water. I found her with a torn blouse as she pushed against Scott with everything she had. Which her everything wasn’t much against a seventeen-year-old football jock. Her panicked cries of stop went unheeded.

  “Leave them alone. She’s enjoying it.” Toby’s breath had brushed against my ear. He had pulled my body close, tucking me into his. Heat radiated off his skin, begging for me to sink in closer, and he’d bent his head to give me the kiss I’d dreamt about for almost a year.

  My newfound strength broke the bastard’s embrace. And not only had I managed to push Toby away from me, but the force of my push also propelled him into the lake. The twenty steps it’d taken to reach Hadley had lasted a lifetime. Her continued screams chilled me, but at the same time, I’d become enraged. Scott joined Toby in the water, and a black eye had gone in with him. I helped a hysterical Hadley back into clothing that’d been torn halfway off her body.

  Toby and Scott were both sopping wet and furious at us when they stomped back to the truck. As if
it was our fault they were rat bastards? They’d left us stranded, the tires on Toby’s wheels kicking up dirt in their wake. The forty-five minute walk home meant trouble since both of our curfews were to start in thirty.

  “You know, you saved my life that night, right?” I asked Hadley. She was attacking her ketchup with another French fry. Her sandwich remained untouched. Her face was pale, and her already thin frame looked lean. Was it the stress of school? The break-up with her boyfriend of three years? Combination of both? Her planner remained packed, Asshole hadn’t been wrong there. But despite that, she’d found the time for me to assault her with my problems. I hadn’t even inquired about hers. I was a rotten friend, and the truth stung.

  “Hadley, are you okay?”

  “Listen, it was my fault we had to walk home that night.”

  “Stop it.” I bent forward until I caught her eye. “You know better than that. Nothing you did that night was your fault.”

  “But that is still the reason why we had to walk home, and if we weren’t walking, you never would have been attacked by—”

  “Red-Eyed Ghost.”

  He’d been standing on an old wooden bridge about a mile from my house. Ghosts never realized I could see them unless I acknowledged their presence first. One minute, I’d been walking next to Hadley, the next Red-Eye’s energy had knocked me off the side of the bridge. I’d caught the edge of the wooden planks on my way down, splinters slicing into my fingers. Red-Eyed Ghost had leered down at me, his energy prying at my tenuous grip on the wood. With my new strength, I fought against his unprovoked attack. I stared up into his red eyes. It was the first time I’d seen a ghost with that shade of eye color, and I hadn’t seen another until Logan.

  Somewhere between my cries for him to leave me alone and the tears streaming down my cheeks, he saw my chest and his energy assault on me stopped. The pendant was yanked from my neck. Its absence left me weak, and I began screaming in earnest as my grip loosened on the wood.

  I would have fallen except, it was no longer Red-Eyed Ghost leaning above me, but Hadley. She’d grabbed my wrists, hanging on tight and saving me from a plunging death. Strength wasn’t her forte, and she had none to use for pulling me back up. We stayed like that, her hanging onto me until a passing motorist stopped and helped. The police were called. Then our parents. My mother was furious. I confessed to the missing pendant. My mother stopped being furious and instead became cold.