Reaper's Novice (Soul Collector #1) (27 page)

“You’ve changed.” She jabs a finger at me. “Whatever. Don’t come asking about my personal life when you obviously don’t want to discuss yours.”

I chew the inside of my cheek. What am I supposed to tell her? That Rolf is acting strange? Having some sort of personality issue?

Lea sighs, a tiny sound between exhaustion and exasperation. “Anyone with eyes can see you two adore each other, so that cancels out boredom. Is it sex? Does he want to have sex and you don’t? Do you want it and he doesn’t? What?”

“No! Not… sex.” My face heats up. I sigh. “Sometimes I just want to get it over with, and other times I want my first time to be special, you know? But when I’m with him, I seem to forget myself.”

Her fingers fiddle with the fringe of the silk scarf draped around her neck. “You asked me if I ever wondered what’s out there. I’m excited about getting done with high school, that I’m moving on. But I’m scared. What if we move on and forget about each other? What if Rein decides that because high school is over, he and I are done? In the car, it was all that.”

“He won’t.” My voice is confident. “Remember when we were kids, how he kept trailing behind you, did everything you asked him to?” I chuckle. “How he’d walk around, his huge brown eyes practically begging you to notice him?”

Lea laughs. “Yeah. He was adorable, wasn’t he?” She tucks a strip of hair behind her ear. “We haven’t done it yet. Sex, I mean. But I really want to.” Her eyes are wide, fearful, excited. She hooks her arm with mine. “I should apologise to Rein. Let’s go. Tonight might just be the night, you know.” She skips beside me. My best friend is back.

We pass a poster of a woman tobogganing on needle-thin rails, grinning wide. As soon as we go through the door, Rolf looks up from where he stands near the reception. Reiner glances at me, then at Lea warily. She covers the distance between them and grabs his hand. They move to a deserted corner. It doesn’t take long before they’re performing the Romeo and Juliet kiss.

“Do they have to do that here?” Rolf scratches his head, head turned away from our friends.

“Nauseating,” I say, turning away from them, secretly glad they made up. If I was to kiss Rolf like that, I’d prefer someplace where the audience is just him and me. “Thank you. Coming here was a wonderful idea.”

His eyes light up, and his lips curl up into a smile that has me sighing. “You’re welcome.”

We’re blocking the queue, so Rolf slips his arm around my waist and walks us to a less busy spot to wait for Lea and Reiner.

He grins. “You want to sit with me on my sled?”

“Tempting. But I’ll survive.” My stomach turns as I picture my sled tilting and swaying down the rail. I want to do this. What’s the worst than can happen? Other than breaking a leg maybe? I haven’t tested Zig’s “can’t die” theory.

Up on the hill, people sled down the track, some at cautious speeds, others at recklessly high speeds.

Rolf cups my face with both hands and tilts it up, his thumbs tracing my jaw. I forget Lea and Reiner in the corner, forget the sweaty guy breathing heavily on my right, the children screaming as they careen down the track. The world falls away.

“Sometimes you just have to leap, Engel,” Rolf says. “You can ski, so that’s good. I could go up first.”

I shake my head, combing my fingers through his hair. It’s so soft and smells of lavender and mint shampoo. “I’ll take the leap.”

He pulls me close, burying his face in the crook of my neck, his lips warm against my skin, and breathes me in. Shivers, tingles, and heat skate along the surface of my skin. This is how it feels to burst into flames.

Cool air brushes my skin when he says, “Good.”

Lea and Reiner join us, looking extremely mellowed. Rolf insists on paying, and we join the queue.

Ten minutes later, while seated inside a toboggan, my phone vibrates. I swipe the screen to answer.

“Ana…” A muffled voice, followed by a groan.

“Hello?” Another groan. Heavy breathing. Whimper. “Who’s this?” A sob bursts through the line.

The guy helping me with the safety belt tugs to secure it around my waist, his eyebrows crinkled like the process is complicated. My heart whacks inside my chest. I motion for him to stop and leap out of the sled, ignoring his confused look. Rolf takes one look at my face and trots after me, with Lea and Reiner in tow.

“Who’s this?” My hand shakes so bad I almost drop the mobile.

“Big sis—” A rattling cough and winded breath. A sob.

I
’M HOT AND COLD AND NAUSEOUS.
“Anton
?
What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“Please… come…”

I double over, clutching my stomach. “Where are you?” My knees are having a hard time supporting my body. Rolf slips his arm on my waist, and I’m glad. People turn to look, but Reiner and Lea block me.

“I—blood… come.” His voice is fading.

I need to calm down.
“Stay with me, little bro. Tell me where you are.” My feet move, heading in the wrong direction. Rolf steers me towards his car.

Anton mumbles something under his breath. I’m panicking, and I can’t understand what he’s saying. The mobile slips from my clammy hands. Rolf snatches it before it hits the ground. He speaks into the phone, while opening the passenger side door for me. He shuts it when I’m settled and dashes to his side of the car. The leather seats squish as Reiner and Lea scramble in the backseat.

Anton. Blood and pain. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember how to breathe.

Something cool touches my palm. My eyes flip open to find Rolf pressing the mobile in my hand. “He’s at St. Francis of Assisi Church on Mexikoplatz. Keep talking to him.” His jaw is clenched as he peels out of the parking lot, tyres squealing on the tarmac.

“Talk to me, Anton, okay? I’m here.” Rolf swerves and whizzes past cars, running a red light in the process. I grab the edge of my seat with one hand and squeeze my eyes shut.

“Don’t… don’t tell Mom.” Heavy pause. Groan. Sniffle. “Please.”

“Shhh. It’s okay. I won’t. I promise.” His breathing sounds like it’s being sucked in a vacuum, like he’s choking on his own saliva.

Then he contradicts himself. “I want Mom.” He must be really bad off.

***

Twenty-five minutes later—which is a record considering the distance between the fourteenth and second district on a weekday at rush hour—we arrive in Mexikoplatz and park opposite St. Francis of Assisi Church. I’m out of the car before it stops, searching for Anton on the deserted street.

Someone yells my name. I turn to see Rolf crouching in front of a crumpled form hidden by low hanging tree limbs. I change directions and fly to Anton’s side. I stretch my hand to touch his face but end up pressing a fist on my lips to stop myself from screaming.

His face is already puffed-up in different places. Blood flows from gashes on his lip and nose.

He whimpers, and my body unfreezes. I dig for tissues in my pockets. Nothing. I turn to the sound of fabric tearing. Rolf’s hands—having ripped his grey polo T-shirt off—shred it into ribbons. Without a word, he hands me two small pieces. I press them on the gashes. Rolf presses the bunched-up shirt onto Anton’s ribs. Anton shudders like his whole body is about to blow apart.

I carefully cup his face with the other hand. “What happened?” He doesn’t open his eyes. Is he breathing? I shift to a crouch. “We need to get him to the hospital.”

Rolf’s fingers close on mine. “Don’t move him. The ambulance is on the way.” I frown. When did he call them? He squeezes my hand. “We don’t know how much damage has been done.”

I press my lips to Anton’s forehead before raising my head to see Lea, her face a reflection of what I’m feeling. She wipes her eyes and begins to talk to Anton about Italy and her horde of relatives. She promises him if he gets better, she’ll take him to a shop where they sell vintage Polaroid cameras like the one she saw from his collection of magazine articles. I think Anton’s lips twitch faintly.

Beside her, Reiner, with one arm on Lea’s shoulder, looks like he’s about to throw up. His face is alarmingly pale. His eyes keep darting to Anton, then away, as if the mere sight of him is torture.

I’m so close to breaking down. I can’t. No time to freak out. My throat feels swollen when I try to swallow. I lean on Rolf, absorbing the strength he offers me, and look at the church in its red roof tiled turret and Romanesque architecture splendour. So fairytale-like and cheery.

I hate it. I hate the fact that my brother lies dying on its grounds. Holy grounds for goodness sake! Isn’t there a law about this? This is the soul I’ve been fighting to get off Grim’s hands. What if it’s his time to go? I haven’t had enough time with Anton since Grim brought them back.

Anton’s red soul colour flickers, then glows along the edges of his body.
God, I need you now. Keep him safe.
I chant the words until the sounds of sirens pierce through my mind. It seems I’ve been praying a lot more lately than I have ever done in my life.

A tall man with spectacles leaps out of the ambulance and strides purposefully with a kit in his hand, with two attendants pushing a stretcher following in tow. They work in coordination. Only a few minutes pass while they hunch over Anton, but it feels like hours. Finally, Anton is strapped on a stretcher and taken inside the ambulance. Rolf and I ride with him. Reiner and Lea follow the ambulance in Rolf’s car.

“What happened? What was he doing there? He looks so… beat up. Who could have done this?” I shiver.

Rolf pulls me close. I burrow into him. “We’ll know soon enough.”

“Mom and Dad. I have to call them.”

Mom answers on the second ring, and she freaks out. She hangs up to call Dad.

***

The waiting room buzzes with voices and smells of vending machine coffee and cappuccino, mingled with antiseptic and antibiotics. The air is laden with desperate expectation. It feels as though Rolf and I have been sitting on the plastic chairs for centuries. Or maybe it’s just thirty minutes. Reiner and Lea left twenty minutes ago.

The glass doors slide open. Mom and Lucy hurry in. Lucy’s eyes dart around the waiting room. Mom’s face is drawn in sharp lines around her lips and eyes.

I dive into her open arms. Her breath trembles as she breathes out. “Where is he? What did the doctor say?” She looks calm, the complete opposite of how she sounded when I called her.

“We’re still waiting.” My voice cracks at the words. Lucy’s lips tremble. She shouldn’t see me like this. I ease back onto my chair and pull Lucy to my lap. She curls her slender body around mine.

Mom wanders off to look for someone to tell her about Anton’s situation.

We sit and wait. It’s killing me.

The glass doors swish open and closed. Someone screams from inside the doctor’s rooms ten feet away, making Lucy shudder in my arms. The speakers crackle, paging a Dr. Mahil. A nurse waddles by, pushing a cart filled with IV drips. Invisible tendrils of disinfectant and drugs drift up my nose.

Mom returns to let us know that Anton is still in the operating room. Dad arrives. A web of lines bracket his downturned mouth and forehead. Immediately, he loosens his tie as if it’s choking him. Then we’re all hugging each other. Lucy begins to cry.

Mom insists I take Lucy home, saying she and Dad will wait until Anton leaves the O.R. I don’t want to go. But Lucy’s shoulders are shaking so hard with sobs, and she’s sucking her thumb. That decides it for me.

On the way home, Rolf stops at the McDonald’s drive-thru and orders a Happy Meal for Lucy and two chicken burgers for us. Once Lucy receives her complimentary toy, she pulls her thumb out of her mouth and smiles slightly. And I love him so much for that. For the little things I never think about, but he does.

Dad calls to tell us the surgery went well. The weight in my chest lifts, and I want to dance and cry at the same time.

After eating our burgers and taking Lucy to bed, I switch on the TV, letting the pictures run with no volume, and join Rolf on the sofa. He slides his hands over my shoulder, pulls me close, and tucks my head under his chin.

His chest rises and falls steadily as he runs his fingers up and down my arm. “Talk to me.”

“I’m scared.” I burrow deeper into him. “I’ve never seen so much blood in my life. Did you see how badly he was hurt? I—I’m not sure what I’d have done if he—”

“Shh. He didn’t. He’s fine now.” His arms are bands of comfort and warmth around me.

I nod. “He is, thank God.” I breathe out the words. “You were like James Bond out there, Ro. My very own Double O Seven.”

He chuckles. “Glad you approve of my Bond skills.” We laugh, and it feels fantastic. After a few heartbeats, he says, “You were great out there.”
I was?
I tip my head up to look at him. “I’ve never seen anyone as strong as you. You handled yourself pretty incredibly. Amazing.”

The whole time I was freaking out, Rolf thought I was holding it together? That’s how he sees me. As strong. “Thank you.”

He combs his fingers through my hair. “That doesn’t mean you should hold back. It’s just the two of us here.” He presses his lips to my hair. I bury my face in his chest and let it all out.