Death (14 page)

Hanna

I watch her leave through my eyelashes and continue to pretend
to be asleep. The whole thing is freaking me out. My body won't react but my brain
is.

The dark haired man I am left with turns to face me. His face
softens when he sees me. He walks over and scoops me up. Instantly I smell it.
I smell the thing Aimee was talking about.

The man carries me down the hallway. He stops and turns at a
door. He closes the door when we're inside of a room. I can't see it through my
lashes but I feel the bed when he lays me down in it. It's soft with thick
blankets and pillows.

His breath is over my face, driving me crazy, "Pretending
to sleep won't stop what I'm about to do to you."

My eyes are open and I'm scooting away from him instantly.

He chuckles, "Oh Hanna. I've missed you."

I frown, "Who are you?"

He shrugs, "Friend of your father's." His smile
turns wicked, "And I guess your mother's as well."

My heart skips a beat. "You knew her?" he looks too
young to have known them well. He's not much older than I am.

He lays on his side and smiles, "I did. How are you
feeling? Still scared?"

I nod slowly, "I just don’t understand any of this."

He pats the pillow beside him, "I won't bite you. I
swear." His eyes sparkle with delight and promises. And not the one's he
is saying out loud.

I lie on the bed too, facing him but not close. Luckily the
bed is massive.

"Are you afraid of me?"

I almost shake my head, but I nod.

"Why?"

"I don’t know you at all. The ghosts in the other room
and the people who are there one minute and gone the next. The man bowler hat
killed is still dead on the carpet. The list is pretty long." I can't
fight the smile at the end of it.

He looks disinterested in my fears, "But me, are you
afraid of me?"

I almost nod but something in his eyes is so familiar I can't.
I shake my head, "No. I know you from somewhere."

He grins, "Excellent." He leans toward me, "Are
you hungry?"

I think for a second, "Yes. I guess I am." I don’t
know what to think or say. I feel lost inside of myself.

He climbs off the bed, "Be right back."

He leaves the room, which gives me a chance to look around at
it all. It's huge. Dark blue walls and huge fabric curtains made the room
eerie. The limited light coming in seems odd. Like Marcus is hiding in the
dark. I noticed it about the front room. It's the size of a basketball court
but the light is limited.

I climb off the bed and walk to the window. The glass is old,
the home must be hundreds of years old.

"I brought you some root beer and cook is making you
waffles."

I look back and laugh, "So do you run this as an inn or
house hundreds of orphans?"

He sighs, "Look, we've had this conversation many a time.
I know you think I'm ostentatious and live beyond my means."

I'm lost, "What?" I have to admit I think that but I
never said it.

He sits on the bed after he puts the root beer on the table,
"We have met before. It was a different world maybe or just a different
time and I don’t want to explain it."

I cross my arms, "Are you supposed to be taking some kind
of meds? I have this friend who is supposed to be on some kind of antipsychotic
medicine and when she feels really good on the meds, she stops taking
them."

He laughs bitterly, "You make me psychotic, trust
me."

I frown.

He lies back on the bed again and the look in his eyes pulls
me across the room. I sit on the bed, I can't break the stare. He has me
trapped in it. I see it suddenly and whisper, "What are you?"

He grabs my hand and pulls me to him, "The man who loves
you very much."

I believe him. I don’t know why. His eyes have me bewitched.
He lowers his face and brushes his lips against mine. It's soft and sweet but I
can sense the kiss is about to explode into something else. His lips brush mine
so softly, I shiver from the gentle touches. He drags a hand up into my long
hair. He reaches around the back and grabs a fist full of it. He jerks my face.
I moan, loudly. I pull away from him, mouth breathing and all. My face is on
fire.
I shake my head, "That hurt." I don’t know what else to say.

His eyes flash at me seductively. He bites his lip and shakes
his head slowly, "No it didn’t. I know for fact you liked it."

I climb of the other side of the bed slowly, as if backing
away from an animal, "This is too weird. Too weird." He crawls across
the bed and then he's against me. My back slams into the wall across the room,
I moan again. I can't stop myself. I'm moan-laughing. A sound I've never made
before. He licks my neck, pressing his body against mine.
"My sweet Hanna. I've missed you so." He spins me hard and fast,
pressing my face into the dark wall. He lifts my hair and kisses softly along
the back of my neck. My skin is shivering and going crazy. My brain is trying
desperately to argue giving in to the seduction, but the pleasure is more than
I ever imagined. I spin myself around and feel a growl creep out of my throat.
An excited grin crosses his face. I shove him hard. He stumbles back towards
the bed. I shove him again, knocking him onto the bed. He scrambles up the
bedding. I crawl up after him.

My body is on auto-slut.

I couldn't stop if I wanted to.

I pull my shirt off and crawl up to his face. He sits up and I
wrap my legs around him. We are grabbing and pulling at each other's clothing.
I shove him back and pull his shirt up over his face. He is blinded by it, with
only his mouth sticking out. I bend and press my bare chest against his and
suck his bottom lip hard, biting into it. I sit up and drag my nails down his
body, marking him. He inhales sharply. My body is convulsing and pulsating and
I can't get control of my breathing or get enough of him. I rip the pants from
him. He throws me on my back and kisses my stomach. He pulls my pants off.

There isn’t any foreplay. Neither of us have the patience. I
want him inside of me. He grabs his erection and kneels between my thighs. I'm
panting, waiting. The terror that should be there isn't. He rubs himself
against my opening and then in a giant thrust, he's inside of me. I scream,
expecting pain but there isn’t any. That doesn’t change the fact it isn’t the
romantic moment I had planned for my virginity. He screams out after about a
minute. He's pumping hard and crying out.

"Hanna, you're a virgin." His voice is weak. I have
no idea what he's talking about, but I'm lost in the heavy weight of the
disappointment. My body doesn’t release the way I need it to. He's just gone
completely rigid and collapsed onto my stomach.

He looks up at me, obviously embarrassed.

I frown, "What was that?" I ask. I don’t know a lot
about sex but I know it should be better than that. "All that build up,
for that?"

He swallows and breathes hard, "You forgot to mention you
were a virgin. That wasn’t how I planned for things to go either."

I tilt my head, "I think I need a shower and then I think
you owe me something."

He laughs and climbs off of me, "Yes. Right. Well, of
course I do. I dare say I might die from the horrors you put me through just
now. I wasn’t prepared for that."

I laugh and he laughs and I can't help but feel completely
comfortable, considering the circumstances. His blushed cheeks and horrified
look, are making it much better than an orgasm would have done.

I wrap myself in a sheet from the bed and drag it down the
hall.

"So what happened with that Jimmy Stratton fellow?"
He asks leading me down the hall.

I gasp, "How do you know that name?"

He arches an eyebrow, "Last time we did that for the
first time you weren’t a virgin. It was intense enough without it being the
blooming first time."

"What time? We've never done that before obviously."

"Well, it was the same time as this. It was now, but only
in a different version of now. Like an alternate world where we did it and you
weren’t a virgin."

My brain hurts. I put a hand up and shuffle along the cold
floor, "Dude. It's cool. You sucked. We don’t need to make excuses for
it."

He sniffs, "Well I was stupendous the other time in the
other world." I roll my eyes and grip the sheet. The effects of him and
the weird hunger I had are wearing off. Sanity makes an attempt at creeping
back into my mind. My fingers are numb from the clenching of the sheet. He
opens the door to a massive bathroom. It's marble and stunning. He closes the
door behind himself. Closing us in there together.

My face, that’s already bright crimson, heats up more.
"What are you doing?"

He grins, "I enjoy washing you." A devious smile
crosses his lips, "You enjoy it also."

I shake my head and grip the towel. "What? No. Out."
I point at the door. He chuckles and walks, still completely naked and slightly
hard, to the shower and turns it on. The shower is a huge walk-in. He holds his
hand under the stream of water, checking the temperature. I can't help but let
my eyes wander down him. His ass is incredible. I have the strangest urge to
bite it.

Something is horribly wrong with me.

He reaches back and grabs my hand, dragging me into the
shower. He rips the sheets from my hands and pulls me into him. He grins,
"No need to get shy now Hanna."

I cover my breasts and lower my face from his. "I'm not
shy. I'm just not, whatever happened in that room, that’s not me. I'm eighteen
years old and still a virgin. I don’t do that. You did something to me. Those
eyes and the blonde, Aimee and the ghost people. Bowler hat." My voice
fades with the last few words.

"You aren’t making sense."

I shake my head against his chest. "It's the frightening
experiences and my father making me come here and the overwhelming ness of it
all. It’s made me act crazy. And slutty."

"That's not a word. Actually, I don't believe slutty is
either."

I laugh, "This was a mistake. A fun one but a mistake
nonetheless."

He grabs my shoulders and pulls me back, "Hanna, I love
you. I have for years, several times, whatever the bloody hell Ari does. I
honestly am not going to try to explain that again. I have loved you through it
all. You make me the man I want to be."

I frown and push on his chest, "Whoa. Isn't the virgin
supposed to get all needy and clingy? Stage four virgin clinger?"

He looks exasperated, "What?"

I pull out of his grip, "You know Wedding Crashers? Dude,
I get that you had a wicked orgasm and that’s cool for you. You got the V-card.
Congrats. But I sort of saw this as one of those 'it was nice to meet you'
encounters. You don’t have to like call or anything. I'm cool with it. I can
just leave when I shower up. I have friends. They'll come and get me. It's
cool." I'm still clutching my hands to my chest. My face is on fire.

His face drops, "Was any of that English? You did
graduate high school this time? Ari made you stupid. Dear god."

"Who? What? I gradded. Why are you being mean to me?
You're the one who finished back there."

His face is stoic. "Right. Excellent. I'll just wait
outside of the bathroom for you to finish." He runs his hands through his
dark thick hair and over his body, then steps out of the shower. He seems
annoyed. I turn my back to him.

My face is flushed and my stomach feels weird. I swear I can
still smell him when he leaves the bathroom.

Something is wrong with me.

Who is Ari?

A grin crosses my lips. I lost my virginity to the sexiest man
I have ever seen.

Aimee

The air is hot and sticky. It feels like it weighs a ton.

"Ready?"

I glance at Oliver and nod.

He takes my hand in his and pulls me through the bayou forest.

"Where are we?"

"Blackwater Bayou. It's in Louisiana. Just outside of
Baton Rouge." He is calm and quiet. I don’t think he will be the same as
he was until he finds the necromancer. Even then I'm worried.

His warm hand wrapped around mine is the only comfort I have.
The bayou stinks with blood and magic and stale air.

He pulls me to a cabin. It's a shack with a yard littered with
old jawbones and old logs in weird shapes and the skinned hides of dead
animals. The grass isn't grass but weeds and sticks with what looks like mini
mounds of dirt. I grip his hand tighter.

I don’t know what a necromancer does, beyond the obvious
translation.

"You know I had no choice right?" I ask.

He looks back, "It's all my fault Aimee. Not yours. She
pulled the darkness from me. She pulled Henry and Marcus's memory wipe. She
pulled it all. I'm free and clear again. Clean slate. Like a newborn and she is
dead because of it."

The guilt on his face hurts my heart. Mostly because he is
fallen and they make me feel funny.

"She died saving you."

He winces, "If it ever happens to you, let me know if it
makes you feel any better to be the one who's still alive."

"I'm sorry."

He squeezes, "I know. I know you wouldn’t have hurt her
if you didn’t have to." He looks at me but puts a hand up to the old
wooden door and knocks.

The door creaks open. I nervous giggle. "Holy snap, it's
the Blair Witch Project."

He pulls me inside the old cabin. The smells hit instantly. I
almost gag, but hold my nose.

A pair of white eyes greets us from the darkest far corner. I
jump when I see them. Her face is dark like the wood on the walls and the
shadow she sits in, but her eyes are bright and white. Like Aleks's did, they
glow like a light shines out of them.

"You know you no welcome. You know he no want me to
help." Her accent is thick and Cajun. Her white eyes look as if they don’t
see just us, like they see the things I can't. Which is saying a lot since I
can see the dead. Sometimes.

He drops to his knees, "I need you momma Holt. I need your
aid."

She is peeling something, a vegetable or a root of sorts.
Maybe. Maybe it's the arm of the last person who was here. I cringe. She points
her knife, "Momma Holt don’t eat no people. Don’t need skins from no
people."

Oliver looks back at me and mutters, "Try not to think.
Her kind are always readers. Among other things."

I blank my mind and think about science and Blake and how much
I miss him.

"Momma Holt don’t help, no you. No demons in my
house." She mutters it.

He puts a hand forward, "I am pure. No demon."

She stabs the blade into his hand, making him wince in pain.
She pulls it out and tastes the blood and spits it in the pot next to her,
"That be good, pure and good. Drip some in the pot demon."

He stands and holds his closed fist over her big black cooking
pot I can't help but think is a cauldron.

"Momma Holt ain't no bad juju conjurer, demon."

Oliver gives me a look.

"I meant no offense Momma Holt." I whisper. She
terrifies me. I don’t think I can kill her. I blank my mind quickly as she
chuckles and peels the thing in her hands.

"You need da witch back?"

Oliver nods once.

"You trade Momma Holt."

Oliver shivers, "What would you like?"

She glances at me, "Dem souls. Dem souls she gone and
ate."

Oliver looks back at me. He closes his eyes. "Done."

I panic inside, quietly. I don’t know what that means but I
can guess it's bad. Oliver looks desperate and his hands are clenched together.
Momma Holt even looks surprised at his agreeing.

When he opens his eyes he looks at me long and hard and then
whispers, "I'm sorry Aimee."

I'm about to die. I understand. She's going to take everything
from me. She is the thing that can kill me.

Fear and terror fill me.

Oliver looks back at Momma Holt, "You raise the witch
first."

She spits on her hand and puts it out to him. Oliver spits on
his hand and presses it into hers. They steam and sizzling.

She nods, "We raise dat witch den."

Oliver pulls his cell and sends a text. A second later a grin
crosses the old woman's face. She sniffs the air and mumbles to herself. My
insides are churning and twisting. I want to run and wink and free myself but I
can't. We need O. I thought we needed me too, but I realize Dorian can just
make another me. I'm replaceable.

A knock at the door startles me.

I jump and look back at the old wooden door as it opens.
Dorian walks in with Aleks behind him holding Ophelia's limp body.

Dorian stops mid step and looks at Oliver. "What have you
done?"

Oliver shakes his head, "It was her demand. Lorri said
whatever it took to get her back."

Dorian steps into his face and shouts, "WHAT HAVE YOU
DONE?"

Momma Holt grabs her walking stick and slams it to the hard
wooden floorboards. Her white eyes are gone. Replacing them are dark crimson
eyes.

Dorian bows his head, "Forgive me Momma Holt." He
says it through a clenched jaw.

Momma Holt walks to the table, "You put da witch on da
tableau."

Aleks lays her down on the wooden table amongst the jars and
herbs.

Momma Holt starts mixing and chanting.

I look away. I should want to watch. I should want to see it,
the greatest thing I will ever see, a necromancer raising the dead. A real act
of god. But I don’t. I'm frozen.
 

I let silent tears stream down my cheeks and stare at the
wall, away from everyone else. Knowing I'm about to die, horribly, is much
worse than just dying. I'm like a pig. The memory of my father and I watching
the show about how pigs can smell the day they're going to die, is rolling
through my mind like a dense fog. It eats up all the self-pity and sadness. My
father and mother and sister are there with me. Inside of me.

Aleks grabs my hand and pulls me into him, "What's going
on?" He whispers.

I shake my head. I know he'll take me away. I can't let him.
"Nothing. She just is asking a lot for payment."

"What is the payment, Aimee?" His voice is rough. I
wonder if he's scared like I am, even though he doesn’t know the things I do.
He doesn’t know what the payment is.

I look back at Momma Holt. Where her eyes are pressed shut,
there a white light is fighting to break through her sealed lids. She shakes
and chants softly.

She throws her arms into the air and screams and then slams
them down on Ophelia's limp body. Ophelia shoots up screaming. Oliver grabs her
instantly and is gone.

"Where is he going?" I ask panicked.

Dorian refuses to look at me. I can see it. He knows.
"She's being taken to a cell she can't escape from. A place where the
sisters will find her and release their magic to her." His words are dead
and they break my heart. He won't look. He can't. I glance at Aleks. He kisses
my head.

"Brother, go help him. He will need the help. I'll stay
here and help cover the bill."

Aleks grabs me and looks at me intensely, "Hurry home. We
need to talk."

I swallow hard and nod. I'm fighting the tears threatening me
and taking my voice.

Aleks is gone, making the air in the cabin swirl with his
warmth and her stink.

"Momma Holt, I have a better deal for you."

She shakes her head, "No. You no trick Momma Holt
demon." She holds out her hand that shows where she spit into her old
leathered brown palm. Where the burns are still.

He offers his hand to her, "I have taken more than her. I
have more to give. She is new. Few souls."

Momma Holt grabs his hand and licks it. She tastes and spit on
the floor nodding and muttering, "You go home demon."

My eyes widen. "No. Dorian, don’t do this." I don’t
know why but the idea of him dying is worse than anything I can imagine.
"No." The tears win over. My heart is breaking.

He looks back at me, "I'm glad you don’t remember the way
I acted towards you. I'm glad this is the way you remember me. I just wish it
could have been different. If I ever get the chance I will show you how much
Aimee. How much this cost me."

"Why were you such an ass? Everyone tells me I hated you.
I feel my disgust for you. It's old. Please tell me why?" I ask through
the tears and sobs.

He shakes his head, "Because I couldn’t have you. I
couldn’t do that to him. He is the only real brother I've ever had. He saw you
first." His voice breaks and I heave slightly.

He grabs my face and presses his lips against mine. The salt
from the tears makes its way into my mouth.

Our kiss tightens as I hear the stabs of the knife into his
hand. I open one eye to see her put his black bloody hand up to her mouth. She
sucks and pulls.

"I love you forever." He whispers into my mouth and
then he jerks away from me and looks up at the ceiling. His jaw tightens, as
his eyes turn white like hers had been. He drops to the floor and slowly
becomes nothing more than a pile of black feathers. There is one white feather
sitting at the top of the pile.

"His love for you. You take dat one. He leave it for
you." She points at the white feather. I drop to my knees. My heart is
broken. "I never knew." I whisper. With trembling hands I pick the
single white feather from the pile. I hold it to my chest and rock back and
forth.

Momma Holt shuffles towards me. She places her hands on my
head and slowly, images of me fill my own mind. My smile, my eyes glowing
molten steel, my laugh, me running and fighting, me sitting reading a book in the
sunlight. There are more than I can count and I remember almost none of them.
The final image is me, lying in the forest, sleeping on a bed of moss. His hand
comes into sight and brushes my hair from my face. I recognize the ring and his
leather jacket. His hand lingers as he brushes his thumb across my lips.

"How he see you." She pulls back her hands but the
memories stay rolling around in my mind. I have no words.

I want to reach in and grab every feather. I want to hold them
to me tightly. "I never knew." I cry out, shaking.

I wink and I'm in the yard at Lydia's, on my knees in a
sobbing ball.

I'm grabbed and held.

"What happened? Where is he? WHERE IS HE AIMEE?"
Lorri rips me from the arms encircling me. She shakes me. Her face changes
slightly.

I shake. I have no answers. I hold up the single white
feather. She drops me to the ground. Tears fly from her eyes.

She screams, looking up at the sky and then shakes with each
sob and heave. She shakes her head, "No. No. Why would he do it?"

Oliver is there, beside her, holding her. His eyes meet mine
and I know how he felt. I don’t feel better with Dorian saving me. I would
trade places in a heartbeat. I am unworthy of the sacrifice that was made. Only
he knows the pain I'm in.

I clutch the feather.

Lorri spins looking at me with hatred, "You never even
loved him back. You never even cared for him."

Sam stands in front of me, "You know as well as I do, he
did it the way he wanted to. He never would have seen her dead. How was she to
know how he felt?"

Aleks walks out of the house. I feel sick when I see his face.
He looks around, "Where's Dorian?"

Lorri cries harder, angrier. She's gone.

Sam looks at Aleks and shakes his head, "He didn’t make
it."

Aleks stops, "He's fallen, he can't die. Not unless
Aimee…" He looks at me accusingly.

Sam steps towards him, "No. She didn’t."

Oliver grabs his arm, "This is my fault. I made the deal
trading her life for O's. Dorian saved Aimee and took her place."

Aleks looks confused, "Why? Oliver, why would you make
that deal? Why would trade my girl for yours?"

"Aleks, it wasn’t my girl for yours. It was the one witch
we need for the death dealer who could be replaced."

Aleks grabs his shirt and lifts him off the ground. His face
and arms are trembling. "HE LOVED HER. HE WOULD SAVE HER!"

Oliver looks savage, "YOU LOVE HER TOO! YOU SHOULD BE
GRATEFUL HE GAVE HIS LIFE FOR HER!"

Aleks drops him and looks back at me. Tears line his cheeks
but his look doesn’t soften. I don’t blame him. They have been together for
hundreds of years. He looks like he doesn’t know how to react.

I shake my head, "I never knew."

He nods, disconsolately, "I know."

Sam smiles softly, "No one knew, Aimes. He never told
anyone. We all just guessed."

Aleks's face reveals the truth of it. He knew. He knew all along.
He puts a hand up, "I can't do this right now." And he's gone too.

Oliver looks at me, "I'm sorry. It wasn’t personal."

Sam wraps himself around me again, "Fuck off
Oliver." He mutters.

"Did you get Ari back?" I ask softly.

"No. Lost the trail." He leans into my hair and
sniffs it, "What's that smell?"

"Old lady. We went to a cabin." I can't say anything
else. Not without dying inside. I never want to remember the cabin again.

"No, it smells like something else."