Insidious(85)

“Heavens.” Gawking at the mass of books still splayed across the floor, Mom tried heading inside, but I stepped in her way.

“I’ll take care of this,” I assured.

She looked down at me crossly as I blocked her second attempt to move around me.

“Don’t-”

She further examined me, and I was grateful to be wearing black pants so that she couldn’t see the blood running down my leg. That still didn’t stop her from noticing the dab of sweat on my forehead or my flushed cheeks as I struggled to conceal my pain. “What has gotten into you?”

“Nothing. It’s just…you’re not wearing any shoes,” I quickly countered, looking down at her feet. “There’s glass all over the place. I don’t want you to cut yourself.”

Voices echoed from downstairs as she noted the several shattered candle jars on the floor.

“Did you invite people over?” I asked wearily.

The question seemed to catch her off guard. “Oh, yes. Sophia and Ashley joined me for yoga, and they stopped by for a drink. Is that a problem?”

“No, I just ordered a pizza, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” I assured. “Go back down to them. I’ve got this.”

She hesitated, but Mom eventually agreed, leaving me. I closed the door and locked it once again, racing back over to check on Brittany. The girl was still unconscious, laying haphazardly on the small area rug surrounding the bed, so I grabbed my purse.

Yanking out my cell, I dialed his number. “We have a serious problem.”





I could hear the engine of the old beater rumbling from down the block, and I waved my hands frantically at the sight of Reese cutting through the Mandrakis’s backyard.

“Is it really that hard for you to stay out of trouble, or were you just inventing an excuse to see me again?” he mused with his cell to his ear.

“Ask that to the body lying on my floor,” I said, wielding an iron poker. Just in case Brittany came to, I was prepared to put her to sleep again. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t feel; a proper concussion still knocked you out.

Reese arrived within five minutes of my call, leaving me just enough time to stack my books in the corner and sweep up the remaining debris. He made his way under my windowsill, looking up at me expectantly.

“What do we do?” I whispered. “Should we call Nathan?”

He shook his head. “There’s really only one thing we can do.” Reese opened his coat and pulled out a sizeable blade.

I immediately shook my head. “No, you can’t kill her.”

“You said she was a Hellhound, yes?”

“Yeah, but I thought maybe… I don’t know. Maybe Mr. Reynolds can keep her prisoner or something, interrogate her…”

“She won’t tell him anything-”

“She’s only seventeen,” I snapped. “She has a family!”

His brows pinched together. “How do you know?”

“She’s one of the missing students from Hersey,” I muttered, feeling tears prickle the corners of my eyes. I’d seen her mother on the news begging for answers, pleading for her daughter’s safe return.

“I understand your hesitation, but you can’t do anything to save her. She’s lost.” The sympathy in his eyes confirmed his words. “And you won’t be doing her any favors by handing her over to Nathan. You saw what he and his men wanted to do to me when they thought I was one of her kind. Reapers want to see them suffer. He’ll brutalize her in every manner possible, prolonging the pain for as long as it takes until her body gives out. Do you really want that for her?”

I looked beside me to the unconscious girl. “Throw me a blade.”

“Come again?”

“It’s the only way to kill her, right? Silver?”

“Apart from removing her head,” Reese admitted. “Though I wouldn’t suggest the latter. It’s a bit messy, as you can imagine.”

“Exactly. Throw a blade up to me.”

“Yeah, there’s a saying about running with scissors that comes to mind. I’m pretty sure the same applies to chucking deadly knives,” he argued.

I stepped aside, hiding behind the wall. “Just do it.”

A moment later a sliver of silver came hurtling through the window, hitting the corner of my bed. The blade ricocheted off the mattress and bounced back at me. I howled as I scrambled away, only to realize the dagger was still encased in its holster. I gripped the handle, prying it out of its sheath. I hovered over Brittany with the blade tip primed at her, seeing her chest rise and fall. Sure, the girl had stabbed and strangled me, and my calf still hurt like a Mofo. But I’d already started to heal.