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Insidious(41)



“He goes to school with Adam and Kat,” confirmed Mr. Reynolds. “It’s Christine Blackburn’s son.”

The name drop didn’t improve the mood.

“Do we know what he is?” asked one of the men.

“No, but he was carrying quite the arsenal when we took him out,” remarked Adam, motioning to Reese’s jacket that was now slung over the back of the loveseat by the landing.

The men eyed the garment curiously, opening up the inside compartments.

“Holy shit,” muttered Russell, pulling out over half a dozen different blades and tactical tools. There was even a set of silver throwing stars. “He’s definitely packing.”

“What’re we thinking? Purebreed? Hellhound?”

“I don’t know,” huffed Mr. Reynolds. “But I don’t like it.”

Adam finally approached me, but it wasn’t without hesitation. “You might want to wait upstairs. This could get ugly.”

“Ugly? What are you planning to do to him?”

“He’s right, Kat. You won’t want to see this,” affirmed his father.

All eyes were on me, and the discomfiture was enough to get me to leave. But before I could move, I heard a low grumble. Everyone looked over at Reese as his head bobbed a couple times before he wearily peeled his eyes open.

“Motherf….” He wrenched his neck sorely, wincing at the pain I could only imagine was radiating from the back of his skull.

“Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence,” remarked Russell, walking over to Reese with a folding chair in hand. He propped it open and set it down backwards, so when he sat on it, he could rest his enormous arms across the backrest.

Reese finally gave a good look around the room, and of all things, he chuckled.

“You know who we are?” queried Russell.

“Let me take a guess…” The magician seemed to take deep consideration in the question as he scrutinized each of the brawny men. “An underground steroid coalition?”

No one appeared pleased by the remark, but that didn’t stop Reese from sharing in his own amusement.

“Shut him up,” growled one man, pulling out a blade from an ankle holster.

“No,” barked Mr. Reynolds. “There are other means of doing this.” He pulled out a flask and unscrewed the lid, heading over to Reese.

“What? You wanna become drinking buddies?” Reese scoffed.

“Depends. How do you feel about holy water?” Mr. Reynolds suddenly hurled the contents of the container right in Reese’s face. “

“Ah!” the young man howled, triggering everyone else to unsheathe a variety of different blades aimed at him.

Perturbed, Reese shook his head, causing the water dripping off the front strands of his hair to spray across the floor. “Right in the eyes.”

The men lowered their guard at last, apparently not getting the reaction they had anticipated.

“What? Were you expecting me to burst into flames?” Reese chortled. “Sorry to disappoint you all, but you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.”

Russell growled, getting up from his seat and walking behind Reese. The magician cringed, expecting some kind of blow to follow. Instead, Russell shoved his head forward, brushing away the hair covering the back of Reese’s neck. Unsatisfied, he grabbed the collar of Reese’s shirt, taking turns exposing each shoulder. “He’s clean.”

“Where did you get these?” asked Mr. Reynolds, stepping forward with one of Reese’s filigree knives in hand.

“eBay,” the magician retorted. “Or was it Craigslist? Door-to-door salesman, perhaps. Can’t really be sure. That hit to the head is making my memory a bit fuzzy.”

Still, no one else seemed amused.

“You a Purebred or Changeling?” asked one of the other men.

“What difference does that make?”

“Are you a part of a charter, or not?” growled Mr. Reynolds.

Reese sighed, fidgeting at the restraints around his wrists. “Is this really necessary? Or is this how you treat all your guests?”

“Just answer the question. Were you turned or not?”

The magician stole a sideways glance at me, a restrained grin tugging at his lips. “No good deed goes unpunished, aye?”

Russell grabbed a handful of his hair, wrenching Reese’s head back.

“No,” he confirmed.

“So your old man was a Reaper then, I take it? Is this his collection?” Mr. Reynolds didn’t really need him to answer, observing the knife in his hand. “Impressive steel. You know what happened to him?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Did he teach you how to use these?”