by Apryl Baker
“I’m sorry that happened to your family. It’s not right.”
“No, it’s not, and I’m afraid Ethan will try to rope Ella into helping him since she can see ghosts. He’ll want to talk to Shane if he’s still around.”
“He might not be.”
“True, but any person who dies violently, they tend to linger because they’re scared and confused.”
I arch a brow.
“My mom’s fascinated with ghosts, and ever since we found out we have a living reaper in town, ghosts are all she can talk about. We pick up on things.”
“Yeah, when she was put into my care, I had to learn a lot, too.”
“Can I ask what you are, Eli? You’ve never said, but we know you’re one of us. We can smell it on you.”
“My gramps and I are the same thing.” Well, sort of, but not really. He’s a Nephilim, born of an Angel and a human. I’m part Angel, but not because my family bred with Angels. We’re hunters, created by Angels. My family drank the blood willingly donated by Angels so we could see the evil in the world and fight it. Gramps says I have more Angelic blood in me than human, which he can’t understand. The blood should be diluted in me, but it’s stronger than my human blood. Probably because I’m a Guardian Angel, but I need to ask my own Angel contact about that. I just hate talking to Muriel. She’s always so cold and has her own agenda.
“He’s never told anyone what he is either.”
“Does it matter?” I’ve been asked not to reveal what I am, not only by Gramps, but by the Angels themselves. The only person whose confidence I care about breaking is Gramps, though.
“No, I guess not.”
“Is it going to affect you telling me the truth about what’s going on?”
He shakes his head. “No. Like I said, this is for Ella, but Eli, you need to think about telling people. It makes them trust you less, you and your grandfather. If he’d come clean, it might make the town accept him as one of us.”
“Would they, though?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t think they would, Raptor. You said it yourself. It’s too ingrained into the psyche of this town not to trust outsiders. Gramps has lived here for more than twenty years. If they don’t trust him by now, knowing what he is isn’t going to change that.”
“You’re probably right.” He leans back and closes his eyes. “If anyone finds out who you got this information from, I’m going to be in so much trouble.”
“You have my word no one will know.”
“There’s a legend about this town that you won’t find in any book or diary ever written. It’s passed down generation to generation, but with the express knowledge it’s never to be put to print.”
“That’s usually not how things are preserved.”
“I know, and I can’t tell you why this rule was created, as it’s not revealed when the story is told to us. It is what it is.”
Odd, but okay.
“There’s an area of the woods no one enters just north of the town, on the outskirts. We were warned away from it as children, our own boogeyman story, if you will. People who go past the fence line never return.”
“The fence line?”
“Deep in woods near the top of the mountain, there’s a fence line that ropes off an entire section of woods. No one knows who put it there, and it’s always maintained. I’ve seen it, so I know it’s real. Just because we don’t go past the fence line doesn’t mean we don’t go near it. It’s like a haunted house story—you just have to check it out.”
“Is there anything unusual about it aside from the old stories?”
“Yeah. There’s a meadow that’s pristine. The grass is always cut, and you don’t find that in the woods in these mountains, at least not in the local areas. There’s said to be old cabins just beyond the meadow as well, cabins that are small, like little kids’ playhouses. I don’t know about those, though. I’ve never had the courage to go past the fence line.”
“What lives there?”
“A monster that awakens once every thirty years for two weeks to feed, and then it goes back to sleep…unless you trespass into its territory. Then it gets a free meal. Your bones are left to rot out there for the beasts of the woods to consume.”
“And did you check that the story is true about it awakening once every thirty years?”
He nods. “Yeah. I’m curious like that. I’ve checked the newspaper archives at the library. I went back as far as the records went, and for two weeks every thirty years, disappearances are reported almost daily. Did you know this county has the highest number of reported disappearances than all fifty-five counties in the state? It’s brushed aside because of the university. Lots of people decide to come to school here and then drop out and leave. People get lost in the mountains, animal attacks, etcetera. Everything is explainable, but it’s really not. We shouldn’t have missing person’s reports ten times higher than anyone else.”
Well, dang. That is really high, and it shouldn’t be brushed off no matter what’s in the local area that can explain it. He’s right about that.
“Does anyone ever question the disappearances?”
“Sometimes, especially the families of missing people who aren’t from around here. They come to town asking all kinds of questions. They don’t understand the brutality of the mountains. They go away feeling helpless when they come to the realization they’re not going to find their loved one. It’s sad.”
“That’s…how did Gramps not know this?”
“Because unless you know what you’re looking for, it’s hard to find. I think this creature has woken up and has started feeding. That’s why I wanted Ella to know everything before she goes and gets herself involved in something she’s not prepared for. It could get her killed, Eli.”
Yeah, it could. “Is it a vampire, do you think?”
“That’s all I can think of. I don’t know of any other Supernatural that drains their victims dry of blood and leaves behind the body untouched otherwise.”
I don’t either, but Gramps might. It’s times like this I wish had access to the books Mom had at home. Dad kept really detailed notes on every creature he hunted as well. Gramps has some good books, but it’s nothing like the library my mother has collected.
I turn down the street to Mark’s house. “I appreciate you telling me this. I won’t forget it.”
He grabs his bag when I stop in front of his house. “I figured no one else would tell you, so I’d already decided to before you asked. Take care of Ella. I’d hate to see something bad happen to her. She’s a good person, better than most of us.”
“She is, and thanks, Mark.”
“Don’t forget the curfew. Coach Bear will be pissed if you get hauled in for breaking it. He’s expecting to win the game on Friday, and that won’t happen if you’re not on the field.”
“Curfew?”
“Mom texted me before practice. We have a seven p.m. curfew, starting tonight. No one on the streets after dark unless they have a legit reason to be there.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Well, you do now, so don’t screw up our chances to win.”
“Sure, sure.” I give him a thumbs up.
Shaking his head, he waves and goes into his house. Making a U-turn, I head to my own house armed with information and even more questions. Something tells me Ella is gonna get thrown into the middle of all this, and it’s going to take everything I have to protect her.
I hope I’m wrong, but my gut feeling rarely is.
Chapter Six
Eli
Ella’s car is parked next to Gramps’ new Silverado. He bought it last week, when Bessie, as he’d called his old beat-up pickup, wheezed her last breath, and he’d all but cried when the tow truck took her to the junkyard. The new truck doesn’t have a name yet. Gramps said she hasn’t earned one. Ella asked him why his truck was a she instead of a he. Gramps gave her the stank eye and refused to answer. I laughed, and he’d sho
wn me the finger. Boys and their toys. Mom was right about that.
Hopefully, Ella cooked. She’s a really good cook, and she tends to do it when she’s here just so Gramps gets a few healthy meals a week. I should probably tell her he could eat a pack of bacon six times a day and he’d still be healthy as a horse because he’s part Angel, but I don’t. I like watching the two of them bicker. Gramps doesn’t tell her for the same reason, I think.
Cecily and Gramps are on the couch watching Gossip Girl when I come in, and Ella’s sitting at the kitchen island working on homework. Oh, my God. The homework I have this year is insane, and on the first day! Who knew senior year was going to be this demanding? Not me. With football, it’s going to be hard to keep up.
“Hey, guys, what’s for dinner?” I kick off my shoes and throw my bookbag down beside Cecily’s. I’m literally starving. “I could eat the back end out of a skunk right about now.”
“Eww!” Cecily gags. “You are so gross, Elijah McGreggor.”
My heart aches every time someone says my last name. No one can ever know I was Eli Malone, son of FBI agent James Malone. My dad is one of the best hunters alive, and I’d had every intention of following in the footsteps of the family business. The only good thing that came from not being able to tell my family I was alive is me being able to admit my own dreams of the NFL. My brother, Caleb, wanted to be a doctor, but he was pressured into being a hunter, into following Dad’s path.
I hate that for him. But it’s out of my control now.
“Your food’s in the oven on warm.” Ella motions in the general direction without looking up.
“What, you guys ate without me?” I head over and find a double bacon cheeseburger and fries on a warming plate in the oven. It has nothing on it but the meat and cheese. Ella would have gotten everything else on the side so it wouldn’t be soggy by the time I got home. She’s good about remembering things like that. I grab a drink out of the fridge along with the Ziploc baggie containing the lettuce, onions, and tomato. The pickles and mayo I get out of the door.
“We picked up food at the Coffee Shoppe. Cecily and I were hungry when we got out of school.”
“What are you working on?”
“AP Chem.”
I make a face and finish fixing my burger before sitting next to her. Whatever equations she’s working on looks more complicated than I want to try to comprehend.
“How did your day go? Any more episodes?”
“No, and thanks for moving my car for me. That helped a lot.”
“Philip showed up yet?”
“No.” Ella puts her notebook in her book and closes it. My sister Ava does the same thing. Always got on the teacher’s nerves. They said it damaged the books, but it didn’t. At least not enough to actually hurt. “Gramps says it’s a vampire, though.”
“Yeah, I got it confirmed, too.”
“Confirmed?” Gramps’ head pops up and swivels toward us, his eyes bright with curiosity. “How did you do that?”
“A friend of mine thinks Ella’s safety is more important than backwards, out-of-date traditions. Don’t ask who, ’cause I promised not to say.”
He makes a hmph and goes back to watching his show. Still boggles my mind the old man likes Gossip Girl. He even went back and watched every season of the original.
I repeat everything Raptor told me while I eat, knowing Gramps is paying as close attention to this as he is the show he’s watching.
“If this thing has been around this long, why has no one done anything about it before?” Ella taps her pencil on the countertop. “I mean, you’d think in a town full of Supernatural creatures, someone would have dealt with a stray vampire. How hard is it against those kinds of odds?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it, girl?” Gramps heaves himself up off the couch and joins us, leaving Cecily watching TV. He looks tired today, and that isn’t something he often is. The old man has more energy than me on most days.
“It doesn’t make sense that it’s been allowed to go on for this long, that the kids are warned away from it, but no one’s done anything about it. We’re missing something.”
“I was told everything the guy knew, so whatever missing piece of the story we don’t have, our odds of finding it are slim.” I finish my food and put the plate in the dishwasher. Ella points to the pickles and mayo, and I put those away before coming back to the island. “You ever come across anything as bizarre as this, Gramps?”
“In relation to a vampire, no.”
I can’t even imagine what the old man has faced in his years. I’m not sure how old he is, exactly, but I’m guessing it’s a lot older than he looks. Nephilim have the ability to age themselves or to reverse their aging as young as they wish. Something he told me in my first few months here.
“Think you can get any more information?”
That same troubled look I’d seen on him the day Ella’s reaping abilities woke up returns, and it makes me uneasy. I’ve come to rely on him being confident. It gives me courage knowing he’s able to take on the world and survive, the same way Dad used to when I was little. Now, I’m really starting to worry.
“The only information that might have been withheld from the general population would have to come from the town council, and only the historian on the council can give us that information. Not even a member of the Historians’ Guild would know about it if it’s never before been written down.”
“What is the Historians’ Guild?” Cecily shuts off the TV and comes over to sit with the rest of us, pulling a stool so she’s facing us instead of beside us. Ever since her kidnapping, I’ve noticed she’s started to sit facing doorways, like she wants to see what’s coming at her. It’s a good trait to have, and one I’ve strongly encouraged in both girls. Dad taught Ava the same thing from the time she was big enough to understand.
“It’s an organization that chronicles the history of the paranormal world. They are always there, they observe, and record what happened. They aren’t allowed to get involved, just to record the situation.”
“But how do they know?”
“Same way a hunter does.” Gramps shrugs.
“Hunter?” Cecily cocks her head, even more curious. I’ve never told her about hunting, and I’m not sure I’ve told Ella or not. So much has happened since her reaping woke up that I’ve lost track.
“Hunters are people who police the Supernatural world. All except for shifters. They police themselves well enough that, for the most part, they’re left alone by the hunters.”
“Is there a Hunters’ Guild or something?”
“No. Hunters have never really tried to share information, but that might be changing soon. There’s a girl in New Orleans who’s trying to organize them, build a database, and make sure they have resources, but I’m not sure she’s going to manage it.”
“Why not?” Cecily cups her chin in her hand and leans forward.
“Because hunters have usually worked on their own, or sometimes with a few they trust if necessary. It’s been a mostly solitary role, and it’s hard to change.”
“How do you know so much about it?” Shortcake is the only one really looking at me. Her green eyes are serious, and I take a deep breath, knowing I can’t tell her all the truth, but I’ll tell her as much as possible without revealing my past. I hate lying to her.
“If you’re involved in the Supernatural world, you’re aware of hunters. They tend to shoot first, not caring if you did anything wrong or not. You’re a demon? Vampire? Angel? Kill on sight. No questions asked.”
“Even Angels?” Cecily’s eyes are wide.
“Angels are the worst of the worst. They’re cold, unfeeling monsters who have no conscience, and they always have a hidden agenda.”
“But they’re so nice in all the stories, and aren’t you and Gramps Angels?” Cecily is truly confused.
Gramps snorts. “Little girly, don’t you ever be calling me that. I’m a Nephilim.”
“
Nepha what?”
“Ne-fa-lim,” he enunciates. “My mother was human, and my father was an Angel. I’m a half-breed. I don’t associate with my father’s family if I don’t have to.”
“Can you do everything Angels can?”
“No, but I can do more than enough.”
Ella has gone scary quiet, and she’s pulled away from me. Her green eyes are blank. What happened? Why is she looking at me like that? It makes me nervous when I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Even Gramps seems to have noticed it.
Before we can question it, there’s a knock at the door. I get up, and sure enough, Philip Roberts is standing there, looking like I did when I woke up and found out for all intents and purposes my family was dead to me.
Whatever is going on in Shortcake’s head is going to have to wait. This guy’s grief comes first.
I stand back so he can come in.
Chapter Seven
Ella
Philip Roberts is as heartbroken as you can be. His grief at losing his brother is engraved on his face like a sculptor captures the essence of its model. He’s hunched in on himself, and his pallor is almost gray. My heart goes out to him, and I can tell by the somber expression on Eli’s face, his does, too. This has to be bringing back some seriously bad memories for him. He’s just starting to grieve the loss of his own family. I hope this isn’t too much for him.
Getting up, I take a seat beside him on the couch and wrap myself around him like he does me. He gives me an understanding smile and takes the support I’m offering. I’m glad he isn’t pushing me away and shutting down. He’s done it before when it comes to talking about the death of his family. This is just one more sign he’s starting to deal with his loss.
I’ll talk to him later about what Gramps said. Him being a Nephilim isn’t a problem that can be dealt with tonight. Getting Eli through this is more important than my confusion and upset.