Reaper's Hollow: The Complete Series

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Cutter put his phone away and picked up the piece of paper Lyric had produced for him earlier that afternoon. It was a nice fall evening, and he sat on the porch swing, listening to the leaves rustling in the wind and the fading sounds of insects that would soon find their winter homes.

Rider walked out onto the porch, the sagging wood protesting and the door creaking behind him. He had a beer in his hand, and he took a swig as he crossed over. The porch swing seemed as unhappy at his presence as the porch. “So… now what?” he asked, leaning back as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

With a sigh, Cutter said, “I think… we give it another week or two, and then I figure out how to explain all of this to her.”

“Do you really think we have a week or two?” Rider asked, running a hand through his blond hair which was beginning to get a little shaggy around the edges.

“I hope so,” Cutter replied. “Otherwise, I’m not sure how we can handle it at all. I mean, I’ve only known her a week. She’s not going to trust me at this point.”

“But if you show her what you can do…”

“I’ll freak her the hell out, and we’ll lose her for sure.” Cutter didn’t know that for a fact, but the few times he thought he knew someone well enough to show them his gift, he’d lost them completely. He couldn’t afford that with Ru, especially not in light of the piece of paper he was holding in his hand.

“I just wish we’d been smart enough to look under the right name in the first place,” Rider went on.

“We didn’t have a first name,” Cutter reminded him. “And… we had no idea she’d be here, right under our noses.”

“Our old stomping grounds,” Rider mused.

“In fairness, this hasn’t been a hotbed for over a century.” Sure, Upstate New York had a history every Keeper was well-aware of, but not since the early nineteenth century had anything significant happened there, though the mansion had still been occupied for decades after the activity had died down.

“It’s called Reaper’s Hollow for a reason,” Rider reminded him, a fact Cutter was well-aware of.

“Right, but it’s not called Keeper’s Hollow. How would we have known she was here? Especially if there is something preventing us from seeing her, which there has to be.” He still hadn’t figured that one out, and even with the information Ivy had been able to collect they were no closer to unraveling that riddle.

“Well, it’s been a week or so since Nat reared his pretty little head, so maybe we need to go out tonight, try to trip him up a little bit.”

Cutter turned to eye his cousin directly. “Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“Not a clue,” Rider admitted. “But it wouldn’t hurt to let them know we’re around.”

“It would if he isn’t aware and thinks we are around for the same reason he is,” Cutter argued. “You’re always itching for a fight.”

“Damn right I am,” Rider nodded. “It’s in my DNA—literally.”

Smirking, Cutter shook his head. He was right, of course. He just wished his cousin could control his urges a little better like the rest of them tried to. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Rider. We need to lay low until we secure Ru. Then, we’ll have plenty of time to track him down and destroy him.”

“Destroy him?” Rider repeated. “Hell, we’ll be lucky if we can even send him back to where he came from. Destroying him is kinda out of the question, don’t you think?”

Cutter was aware that he had a point, but he felt like it might actually be possible once they had Ru. If she was as powerful as he suspected, she could accomplish a lot more than they’d been able to do in the past. “Maybe, but if we don’t at least aim for destruction, then we’ll never know.”

Rider seemed to be mulling over the remark in his head. “Okay, I’ll give you that,” he finally said. “But in the meantime, what do we do if he keeps claiming unmarked souls?”

“Then, once we catch up to him, he’ll have to pay for his crimes.”

“Great, but in the meantime, more people die.”

Cutter nodded. That was part of the job, an aspect he wasn’t a fan of, but in this instance, there was no easy answer, and he had to make sure they didn’t lose Ru, or worse, drive her right into Nat’s waiting arms. “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do. But if he knows we’re here, he’ll think he’s close.”

“Don’t you think he already knows?” Rider asked, his voice showing his exasperation.

“Surely not,” Cutter reasoned. “If he did, we’d know, I think.”

Rider was shaking his head. “I think we’re the reason he’s here.”

Cutter didn’t really have a response to that, at least not one he was willing to vocalize. “Just give me a few more days.”

With a sigh, Rider clapped his hands down on his thighs. “Fine,” he acquiesced. “But I have a feeling he’ll be out tonight.” He stood and headed back toward the house, clearly disappointed that Cutter hadn’t agreed with his proposition.

“I hope not,” Cutter mumbled, although something told him Rider might be right. It had been almost a week, and Nat usually wasn’t that patient. He’d typically take a few days to find the best mark for his cause, and then he’d move in, so the fact that he’d taken this long made Cutter hopeful that he’d found other hunting grounds, although he didn’t think that was the case. He had a suspicion that Nat was not only aware that the Keepers were in the area but that the missing one was as well. Cutter had to avoid showing his hand until they had her.

Looking at the certificate he held, he was at least satisfied in knowing they’d found her at last. While he’d questioned the situation even a few days ago, there was no doubt now that Ru was exactly who he thought she was. What was most troubling of all, perhaps, was the fact that she was not who she thought she was—not in the least. The poor girl didn’t even know her own name.

Sandra Delvecchio heard a noise and stumbled out of bed, certain it was her cat, Tiger, wanting out. Without fully opening her eyes, she shuffled toward the back door, the backs of her heels sticking out of her house shoes.

She didn’t glance at the clock to see what time it was, but she felt like she’d been asleep for at least a few hours. Since she’d gone straight to bed after Bull, she figured it was close to midnight. Tiger usually wanted out about this time, and even though it was a pain in the a*s, he was her only companion, so she tried to keep him happy.

Opening the back door, she said, “Here you go, kitty,” expecting to feel him rub against her leg as he darted out into the fall evening, but there was nothing. “Tiger?” she called. Turning around and finally opening her eyes completely for the first time, she didn’t see him anywhere. “That’s odd,” she muttered, wondering what the noise might’ve been that woke her. She pushed the door closed, not bothering to lock it. No one ever broke into anyone’s house in Reaper’s Hollow, and shuffled back toward the bedroom, thinking she wasn’t getting up again if Tiger asked before the sun came up. Even though the next day was Saturday, she’d be up in enough time to watch Saturday Morning Q, and Tiger could wait until then to do his prowling.

Still half asleep, Sandra entered her bedroom, her eyes glued on the floor as she pushed the door closed behind her, leaving only a c***k for Tiger should he decide to make an appearance. Turning toward the bed, she looked up, and froze. In the center of the room, near her bed, a dark shadow loomed, towering well over six feet. At first, she thought she was seeing things, like a dark floater had caught in the center of her vision. It appeared as if all the light from the room was sucked into the inky blackness, and she couldn’t fathom there was actually anything there, but then, she noticed the hand, and her heart caught in her throat.

It was clear to her then, as he beckoned her forward, the paleness of his hand contrasting in the darkness of his cloak, who he was and what he wanted. The scythe he held in the other hand was also a giveaway—of the dead variety. “Who… who are you?” she said, quietly, though she didn’t need to ask.

His voice filled her mind, and if his lips moved, she couldn’t see as they were surrounded by the blackness of his hood. “It’s all right, Sandra. I’m here to take you home.” His voice was sweet, sincere, calm, reassuring.

At sixty-two, Sandra still felt young, despite her bad hip and the gray hairs. She was lonely, though, so very lonely. If it wasn’t for Tiger, she’d spend most days without speaking to anyone at all, except for herself. Even though the thought of passing on hadn’t been a consideration up until this moment, something in the tone of his voice made her believe now was as good a time as ever.

Yet, she hesitated. Who would take care of Tiger? What if they didn’t find her for days? What if she lay in a heap on the floor of her home for weeks and the rats got to her?

As if he sensed her conflict, he said quietly, directly into her wavering mind, “Come along, Sandra. Paradise awaits.” She didn’t move, still unsure of the situation. Slowly, with his free hand, the one that had beckoned to her, he reached up and pulled the hood off, revealing his face. Sandra gasped. It was not at all what she was expecting, and yet, she couldn’t help but smile. His green eyes, so deep, so kind, she couldn’t help but walk toward him, reaching for that hand, the same one that had gestured for her before. He reached for her, and her knees folded beneath her, falling to the floor, still entranced by the most beautiful face she’d ever seen.