Call Me Grim (30 page)

I scan the length of the bridge twice and look over both shoulders, but Max is not here. Panic wells in my throat. What if I’m too late?

No. We would know if Max was dead. My head would feel like it was about to explode.

“I’m going to find Max.” Aaron’s warm breath tickles my ear. “Humor him.”

“Where’s Max?” My voice shakes with the fear and anger currently at war in my gut. I can’t tell which emotion is winning the battle, but they’re beating my insides into pâté.

“Libbi?” Max’s quivering voice echoes around me, bouncing up from below. I peek through the breaks in the tracks at my feet. I suppose I only have the emotional capacity to be petrified of one thing at a time, because as I search the rolling water and jagged boulders far below, my fear of heights doesn’t paralyze me.

Then I see him. Blindfolded, tied to a chair, and dangling from a rope under the bridge, like a fly caught in a spider’s web. And now, I’m paralyzed.

Aaron slips around me, heading for Kyle. But the bridge is so long and Aaron is moving so slowly.

“Max is safe. For now.” Kyle tilts his head toward the thick girder he was leaning against and the hidden safety railing behind it. A taut rope wraps the steel girder and disappears over the edge of the bridge. Only a thin, nylon rope keeps my brother from plummeting to the sharp rocks and angry waters below.

Kyle holds his hunting knife to the rope.

My feet finally unfreeze and I leap forward.

“Stay where you are, Libs,” Kyle says. “Any closer and I’ll cut.”

I stop on demand. He’s too far away. Even if I used the speed power, it takes time for it to build up. And by then, Max would be gone.

“Where’s Aaron?” Kyle turns his faceless head from side to side, his one visible eye searching the expanse between us. “I know you’re here, Aaron. I can feel that creepy vibe you give off. If you don’t show yourself, I’ll cut it. Right now.” He plucks the rope like it’s a guitar string and Max yelps.

Aaron has only crossed a quarter of the distance between us, not close enough to grab the rope if Kyle decides to cut it. He stops and sways on the balls of his feet, like he can’t decide if he should keep invisibly moving forward or allow Kyle to see him. I psychically beg him not to take the risk and only breathe again when I hear the crackle I’ve come to expect when he becomes visible.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Aaron says. “I’m right here.”

Kyle jumps back when he sees him and jerks the rope. Max whimpers from the end and the sound strikes a shattering blow to the anger inside me. Fear has won the war.

“Pull him up, Kyle!” I sound hysterical, probably because I am. “This has nothing to do with Max.”

“You’re right. It has nothing to do with him.” Sweat drips from Kyle’s hair, and the hand holding the knife trembles. “It has to do with you. Both of you. I don’t want to hurt him, Libbi, but I will if I have to.” Tears pool in Kyle’s visible eye as he points at Aaron. “Now, you, get up against that railing.”

Aaron doesn’t move. The muscles in his calves twitch, but he doesn’t go to the railing.

“Now!” Kyle shouts.

“I don’t know what you have planned, but it’s probably not going to work.” Aaron’s quiet voice drifts back to me on the breeze, but he does as he’s told. He slowly moves to the railing.

“Why are you doing this?” I say, trying to buy time as I inch forward. Tears obscure my vision and I let them spill over my lids.

“Ask
him
,” Kyle says. “We both want the same thing. Don’t we, Aaron?”

“I never wanted you to hurt Max,” Aaron says.

“But it’s working, isn’t it? You want to die,” Kyle jabs a finger at Aaron, as if to reiterate his point. “I don’t want her to die. We both want Libbi to take over for you. You said the only way she can do that is if she kills you. You said you wanted her to push you off this bridge. And I don’t care if that means I’ll never see her again. At least I’ll know she’s here. Safe.” His voice cracks. “And not with that thing you showed me in that Gateway.”

“You showed Kyle the Blackness?” I say. “Are you crazy?” Aaron’s stupidity is reaching epic proportions now. No wonder Kyle is stooping this low. He must be terrified.

“I had to. He didn’t believe me.” Aaron looks to me for forgiveness, or understanding, or both. “I had to tell him everything—that you have to kill me and how you refused—everything.”

“How?” My eyes dance between the two of them. “I mean, I thought you couldn’t use my abilities unless I was with you.”

“You were knocked out,” Aaron says. “I sat you in the front seat of your car and we drove there.”

“It doesn’t matter how I saw it. The point is, I saw it. I heard it growling. It’s hungry, Libs. And if this”—Kyle lifts the rope in his hands—“is what it takes to keep you from being eaten by that thing, I’ll do it. A thousand times, I’ll do it.”

“I don’t think you will though,” I say with as much confidence as I can muster. “What will you gain if you drop him? Because I can guarantee I won’t do what you want if Max dies.”

Kyle’s hands shake but his one visible eye is firm and focused on me and I can’t look away. “Do you really want to test that?” he says.

This can’t be happening. The Kyle I know would never do something like this. He’s kind, generous, and thoughtful. He’s not a murderer. But I can’t overlook the gaping hole in his soul or the black, evil gunk boiling inside of it.

He’s marked for a reason. And if it’s not suicide, then it’s murder. I don’t think he’d hurt Max on purpose, but what if he cuts the rope in an impulsive move to show me he means business. Would that count as murder in Abaddon’s book? Something tells me it would.

I’m not about to take the chance with Max’s life.

“Look, Kyle, there has to be a better way than this.” My whole body shakes. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“There isn’t. Aaron has to die.” Kyle’s voice is insistent. “Just walk over to him and give him a shove. I’m sure he won’t fight it.”

I glance over at Aaron. He stands at the safety railing with his arms crossed, staring down at the ancient railroad ties at his feet. His pained eyes slowly travel up to me.

“He’s right, Libbi. If you push me over, I won’t fight you.” Aaron’s jaw clenches with determination.

“See?” Kyle says. “He wants you to do it too. He told me last night.”

“I can’t,” I whisper.

“Do it!” Kyle’s voice bellows around me, shaking me with its force.

“Just push me, Libbi.” Aaron’s eyes fix on mine. “I’m ready. Please. It’s all in your hands. You can save Max’s life, heal Kyle’s mark, and save yourself from the Blackness and Abaddon if you just push me over.”

“There has to be a way to do all of that without killing you.”

“Look at his mark.” Aaron juts a finger at Kyle. “That crap is almost covering his face now. That’s what my stepfather’s mark looked like right before he murdered my mother. Kyle is going to cut that rope if you don’t push me over. Right now!”

As if to prove Aaron’s point, Kyle presses the knife into the rope.

“Kyle? Libbi?” I hear the tears in the high, quivering pitch of Max’s voice. “This game isn’t funny anymore. I’m really scared now. Pull me up.”

I can’t take it anymore. I care about Aaron and I don’t want him to die, but Max doesn’t deserve this torture. He’s just a little kid. Tears of anger mix with my tears of fear as I narrow my gaze on Kyle.

I hate him. I hate him for doing this to Max and for putting me in this situation.

And I hate Aaron for pushing him into it, whether he meant to or not.

“Okay. I’ll do it.” I swipe my tears away with my palm. “I’ll push him over. Just let Max up. Please, Kyle.”

“Not until Aaron goes over the railing.”

“Okay,” I whisper. “Fine.”

Kyle watches me take one step toward Aaron. Then another.

“Wait.” Aaron holds up a hand. “There’s one more thing.” He twists the Scythe around his thumb and winces as the ring slides off. “You’ll need this.”

He holds the silver ring out to me. It looks sharp as sunlight gleams across the metal. Something shifts, no,
recoils
below the surface.

A trick of the light
, I tell myself as I stretch my hand under his and he drops the Scythe onto my waiting palm. He grabs my hand and curls my fingers over the ring, squeezing me tight.

“Once you put this on, you will no longer be my apprentice. You will have all of my powers and you won’t need me to use them anymore.”

“I still need you.” I choke on the words. “I’m not ready.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be a great Reaper. Smart, kind, compassionate. I believe in you.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it softly. Then he turns his back to me.

Fine. It’s better if I don’t see his face when I shove him to his death. It won’t spoil my memories of him. His strong, stubbly jaw. The way he runs his fingers through his hair when he’s nervous. That stupid grin when he thinks he’s being funny. His soft, full lips pressed against mine. His deep eyes.

I’ve seen his living eyes for the last time. The next time I see them, they’ll be the eyes of his soul. Will they look the same? I doubt it.

I slip Aaron’s ring into my pocket—it doesn’t feel right to wear it while he’s still alive—and raise both hands in front of me, palms facing his broad back.

I can do this. For Max. It will only take one hard shove to knock him over the railing and then gravity will take over. Aaron’s not going to fight it.

It’s what he wants.

He turns his head slightly and I can see the curves of his cheek and brow.

“Go ahead, Libbi,” he says. “I’m ready.”

I don’t think I can do this.

But I have to.

What if I’m falling in love with him?

But it will be better for all of us this way.

Something flutters in my peripheral vision. My eyes follow the length of the safety railing to a pair of large, white wings spread in a fan. The blue heron I saw fishing at the river’s edge once before jumps from the bridge and glides in a slow circle down to the river.

I’m about to turn back to Aaron and the horrible task at hand when something else catches my attention. Something attached to the safety railing. Thick coils of red rope wrap a figure eight around the bottom rung of the safety railing and a support beam. Several sturdy, metal clasps hold the rope in place.

Professional gear. Bungee jumping gear.

I pull my eyes up from the bundle of bungee cords at the base of the bridge to the top of the railing. Kyle’s rope curves over the railing at a ninety-degree angle right above the bungee gear. His rope meets the gear and runs parallel to the bungee cord hanging off the bridge.

I let my breath out in a huge gust of relief. My fingers tingle with the release of tension. Max may be bound and blindfolded and dangling from a bridge, but he’s safe. Kyle has him hooked to a harness.

I knew he wouldn’t hurt Max. I knew it!

Well, maybe I didn’t know for sure, but still.

“Where did you get the bungee equipment?” I back away from Aaron and meet Kyle’s stare.

“What?” he says. His knife hand twitches.

Aaron leans over the railing, checking it out for himself. He nods, confirming my suspicions, but the look on his face is not joy at Max’s safety. He looks disappointed.

“The harness you have Max hooked to,” I explain, though the startled look in his eye tells me he knows what I’m talking about.

“I don’t have—”

“Yes, you do,” I say. “I saw it. Where did you get it?”

Kyle’s shoulders slump with defeat and he sighs. “Matt let me borrow it.”

“Matt? The lead singer of Red Motive Matt? He’s a bungee jumper?”

“Yeah.” Kyle shrugs. “Him and Tyler both. We’ve come out here every night this weekend, had a few beers, and they taught me how.”

“You ass! You complete and utter moron! How could you do that to him? To me? Why?”

“Because I know you, Libbi. Aaron wanted me to talk to you, but I knew that wouldn’t do anything but make you more sure of yourself. Once you decide something, you’re too stubborn to change your mind.”

Now that I’m not afraid Kyle will drop Max to his death, I run the length of the bridge, skipping the gaps in the wood as I do. I rush Kyle and shove him as hard as I can. He stumbles back and grabs the rope to stop himself from falling.

Max screams in terror with the sudden movement. He still doesn’t know he’s safe.

“It’s okay, Buckaroo. You’re safe. I’ll get you up,” I yell down to him, then I focus on Kyle. “Let him up, before I shove you over myself.”

Kyle shifts his weight and turns to the steel support beam where the rope curls over the safety rail. He angles his head and looks at me with one sad, hopeless eye.

His plan didn’t work. I didn’t kill Aaron. I’m still going to die today.

And he’s still marked.

Kyle bends his knees and yanks the rope. Hand over hand, he tugs the line, pulling Max up through the misty air. A flicker of red hair at the railing and I can’t wait anymore. I run to my baby brother. Aaron rushes over too, and the three of us wrestle Max and the fold-up lawn chair he’s tied to over the railing. We set him down on the wood ties.

The red safety harness loops around his arms, legs and waist. Kyle’s long coil of rope weaves through the spokes of the chair and across Max’s chest and belly, keeping Max and the chair in Kyle’s control. A hunter green cloth wraps Max’s head, covering his eyes.

“Oh God, Max!” I fall to my knees in front of him. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I tear off the blindfold as Aaron loosens the rope and harness.

“I-I’m okay,” Max stutters. His wide eyes find Kyle. “Did it work? Did you help Libbi?”

“No, buddy. But you did great, though.” Kyle shoves his hands in his pockets. “That was some superb acting.”

“Max was in on this?” Aaron and I say together.

“What?” Kyle’s visible eyebrow arches. “Did you think I’d kidnap an eight-year-old and dangle him from a bridge without his permission? What kind of a jerk do you think I am?”

“Actually, it was kinda fun!” Max grins, but then the smile melts away. “But it didn’t work.”

“No, it didn’t work.” Kyle frowns. “Libbi’s still refusing to take over for Aaron. Aren’t you, Libs?”