Reaper's Novice (Soul Collector #1) (28 page)

Dad arrives home at eleven thirty p.m. According to the doctor’s diagnosis, Anton had a fractured rib, massive internal bleeding…

My mind shuts down after that. The surgery was successful.

What we don’t know is how he got his injuries.

***

At four fifteen p.m., Friday after the orientation, I walk out the Conservatory doors, leaving a part of my heart inside those rooms. Even after talking to Schulz about giving up my dream, I could not resist. I had to be
here
. Even though I might never realise my dream. I still haven’t spoken to Mom and Dad about cancelling my classes.

I stop on the sidewalk to turn my mobile back on. No calls from Rolf. He’s disappeared. Again. There’ve been no emails, and I couldn’t reach him by phone, either. Where is he? Working on that robot thing in his basement or in blackout mode?

My mobile rings. I glimpse the number and sigh.

“Hey, lovely Ana. Where are you?”

I’m in no mood to wrangle words with him, so I say, “Leaving the Conservatory.” The call disconnects.

Something drops to my right. I shriek and jump away. Not something.
Someone.

“Jesus, Zig! Are you insane? You could have hurt me, or anyone else.”

Zig shrugs. “But I didn’t. It’s called precision.” He looks up.

I follow his gaze, and my eyes widen. “
Four storeys
?”

He nods, grinning proudly. “Today’s lesson. Plus, you need to practise shifting and concealment.”

I shake my head and brush past him. “Not now. I’m visiting with Anton.”

Since the incident, Zig seems to appear at convenient times to tagalong for a visit. He just observes concealed, satisfied to hang around with the rest of my family.

Yesterday, Anton seemed slightly better. He could talk, but he wore out fast. Every time we quizzed him about what happened, he said he couldn’t remember. The police arrived to take his statement after the doctor called them. From their scowls when they left Anton’s room, they weren’t successful in prying any information. They said they’d return later. I sense Dad and Mom’s frustration as hours tick by.

Zig takes my elbow and steers me to the Kärntner Strasse pedestrian shopping street and down towards the Vienna State Opera House. “Come on. You’ve turned into a dead-girl-walking since Anton’s accident. I promise it will be fun. Much more fun than Herr Schulz news.”

I skirt around two opera tickets sellers dressed in Mozart costumes selling tickets to a group of elderly Chinese tourists. “Not today, Zig.” Two days ago, after I was done with freaking out about Herr Schulz announcement, I told Zig what went on in the library. The man wasn’t shocked. In fact, Zig seemed to find every opportunity to tease me about it.

“Ernest plans to send you out soon,” Zig says.

My stomach drops. I halt abruptly. “
What?
But I’m not ready!”

He gapes at me. “You’ve had two weeks of practise. I was barely a week into the job when he sent me off to collect doves’ and cats’ souls. Literally shoved me off the nest’s edge. You’ll survive.”

My mind rushes with options, excuses, but comes up with none. Maybe Grim would give me more time.

Since my last training with Zig, I’ve practised in my room and late evenings when the parks were deserted. At least I managed to shift three out of the ten times. And Grim might send me out there? To collect souls?

I pull Zig inside the Hotel Sacher Confectionery shop, famous for its traditional Sacher torte. Immediately, I’m blasted by the sight of dark chocolate cake and the scent of freshly brewed Viennese coffee, which reminds me of Sunday morning brunch at my house. My stomach grumbles mercilessly.

“Feed that beast in there before it devours us all.” Zig jabs a finger at my belly.

I laugh, and go back to ogling the cakes behind the glass display, picturing Anton smiling and gulping down the dark chocolate cake, apricot jam smeared on his lips. I dig out my savings, hand them to the lady behind the counter, and point at the smallest of the Sacher tortes. A few minutes later, Zig and I exit the shop and join the stream of pedestrians, strolling in and out of shops with bags in hand.

At the corner of Kärntner Strasse and Opernring, we stop to wait for the lights to change. A tram zips by. My gaze automatically drifts to the Vienna State Opera House. This is where magic happens.

When I was thirteen, our class visited the Opera House on an excursion. I remember walking through arched doorways and carpeted hallways, promising myself over and over that one day, this will be my dream.

Funny how life changes, twisting and turning dreams inside out, wringing them dry.

My stomach twists at the memory. I need to get out of here. Fast. I blink quickly, averting my gaze from Zig. Him seeing my face right now is the last thing I want.

“So what do you say?” he asks, oblivious to my current state. The light changes, and we join the crowd of people crossing the street. “Join me?” I give him a sidelong glance. “Do you trust me?” he asks when I don’t answer his questions.

“Would a deer trust a leopard to a cuddle?” I say, eyebrows raised.

He narrows his eyes. “Which one am I? The leopard or the deer?”

“Do
you
trust me?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Completely.”

I miss two beats. “
Why?
You hardly know me.”

“I just do. Come on, an hour of pure fun won’t kill you.”

I sigh. “Maybe later.” His shoulders sag. “Would you like to join me?”

His eyes light up, giving him a boyish look. “Never thought you’d ask.” He takes my hand. In the next step, we shift to the hospital.

“You’re reckless, you know that?” I say, placing a hand on the door of room 112. “Don’t you care that people notice when you disappear right before their eyes?”

“They’ll have something to talk about.”

I shake my head. “You could at least let me practise my shifting skills.”

“Next time.”

“Be good.”

“Aren’t I always?” He grins.

“Do you even know the meaning of that word?”

He winks. “You’d be surprised.”

I roll my eyes and walk inside the room. “Hey, little bro.”

Anton’s head snaps up from the graphic novel on his lap. He blinks, eyes darting over my shoulder. I follow his gaze. No one is behind me. Zig is already perched on the windowsill. “Were you expecting someone else? A date maybe?” I place the cake on the bedside table and ruffle his dyed mohawk—hot red is the flavour of the week.

“No.” He clears his throat. “Just you.”

I nudge his legs aside and sit on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

He tosses the book aside. “I want to go home. Could you talk to Mom and Dad?”

“You scared us, Anton. I think you should stay a bit longer, just to make sure.”

“I miss my bed. And food.
Real
food.”

“Have they been feeding you stones?”

He pouts, folding his arms over his chest. He’s quiet for a while before saying, “Do you know if Rein will visit?”

“Not sure.” He bites his lip and shifts his weight on the bed. “Why?”

“Just… it’s nothing. Where are Lea and Rolf, anyway?”

“They’re busy.” Anton picks up his mobile beside his pillow, sighing. I watch him, my mind on Reiner. I haven’t seen much of Reiner, either. Even in class. Whenever I wanted to talk to him, he seemed in a hurry to leave. Maybe he’s already started his new job.

Zig gestures from the window and mouths “Soul collecting” before disappearing.

I turn back to Anton. “Looking forward to school, eh?”

“Not really.”

What’s wrong with the males in my life? My brother is sulking, Reiner is acting shifty, and Rolf, well, is spooking me out. I rub my face and chuckle quietly. If Rolf is spooky, what am I?

Anton frowns. “Why are you laughing? I look funny, don’t I?” His fingers flit across the dark bruises on his face.

“You look fine, grumpy.”

Anton takes a deep breath. He winces and clutches his right side. “And you’ve been acting strange, weirdo.”

I lick my lips and open my mouth to reply but stop at the sound of shuffling feet behind me. I turn around. “Oh hey, Rein. Grumps here has been asking for you.”

Reiner hovers at the doorway, shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and strolls inside the room. He smiles—or what looks like a smile. What’s with him?

I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. “If his grumpiness isn’t over by the time I come back, I’m calling the doctor. Crabbiness is infectious.” Anton glares at me.

I return ten minutes later to find Reiner pacing. He stops as soon as he sees me.

“Hey, I’m heading over to Lea’s.” He scoots around me as if I’m contagious.

“You okay, Rein?”

“Sure.” He twists to look over his shoulder. “See you later?”

I nod. Strange. Usually, he’d offer to give me a lift and tease me if I refuse to get onto his scooter.

I look at Anton. “Did anything happen between you two?”

He lifts his head from his twiddling fingers and blows out a breath. “He promised to bring over some photography stuff.”

“And you’re angry because…?”

“He didn’t!” He clenches his fists, panting. “He promised.” He looks like he’s about to cry.

 “Hey.” I take his hands in mine. He’s usually moody, but this is taking it to a whole new level. “I’m sure he’ll bring them when you get home.” He nods after a few moments. “I know just what you need. Be right back, okay?” He lifts his head and nods.

When I return with a plate and fork, Zig is already back on the windowsill. I slice a piece of the cake. For the first time since I entered the room, Anton’s eyes light up.

Minutes later, Anton yawns, his eyes glazing. I hug him and leave, with Zig on my heels.

“Why the frown?” Zig asks.

“I’m not frowning.” I stop to let a woman in a wheelchair pass.

“You look as if someone danced all over your toes.”

I push thoughts of Anton aside to digest later. “Have you learned anything about Rolf?”

He rubs his neck. “Yeah, about that…” He gives me a sidelong glance. “Nothing. It’s weird, you know?” He shakes his head. “His eyes. Well, don’t get me wrong, my eyes are much prettier than his—”

“Modesty, my friend.”

He laughs. “I’ve only seen one set of eyes that colour. Specifically.”

My heart flips inside my chest. “Whose?”

He shakes his head. “I might be wrong about this. I want to be certain before I tell you, all right?”

I bite the corner of my lower lip. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

“Chill. I’ll tell you as soon as I confirm, okay?” He holds his hand out. “Ready to go jumping?”

I stare at his hand. I should go check on Rolf first, but I want to practise in case Grim decides to “push me off the edge of the nest”. So far our nightly collections are going well. I nod.

Seconds later, we’re standing on top of a two-storey house, in unfamiliar surroundings. I turn to Zig, eyebrows raised.

“Some place in Upper Austria. Thought we’d start small.” He cocks his head. “No one is home.”

“It’s not right to just climb up people’s roofs.”

“Would you prefer landing on people’s heads?” He moves to the edge of the roof. “Ready to jump? We could shop around for a one-storey house. Toddler stuff.”

Lea’s words taunt me. I want to do something wonderfully shocking. This feels like it. Then why is my mouth so dry? “Let’s do it.”

Without warning, Zig extends his arms and throws himself off the ledge. I shriek and scramble to look. He’s on the ground, unharmed and grinning.

I want to strangle him.

He shifts back onto the tiled roof.

I whirl to face him. “It’s official. You’re trying to kill me.”

“Aw, stop being melodramatic. Come on. This is initiation.”

I tilt my head slightly. “Says who?”

“Me. I make up the rules. And you are my first initiate.”

I sidle back to the edge again, peek down, and straighten. I could sprain an ankle, break a leg…

I watch Zig drop on the ground effortlessly, then shift back repeatedly, grinning giddily.

Looks like fun. Looks dangerous. I spend another five minutes convincing myself. Without warning, Zig grabs my hand, and we jump. When we shift back on the roof, my throat is sore from screaming.

I’m trembling with adrenaline, and I’m on fire. I want to do this again. We repeat the process several times. When he lets me try on my own, I launch myself off the roof, hit the ground with my feet, lose balance, and fall flat on my face. I concentrate to shift and make it up to the roof before jumping again. I lose my balance every time. Zig drops on his knees with his arms clutched around his stomach, laughing so hard.

I clench my jaw. I’ll show him that I can be as good as him. I try five more times. On the last try, I land on my ankle, twisting it. The pain is like hell. Zig flies down, crouches beside me and places both hands on my foot. I bite my cheek to stop myself from screaming.

“This will go easier if you relax,” Zig says, moving his fingers on my ankle.

“Just help me and stop wasting time.” I blink back tears. How does one relax with a throbbing foot? I’m going to die. On asphalt. This is like the worst pain ever. His hands press on my ankle. Tingles run up my leg, like a tranquilizer. Minutes later, the pain vanishes. Zig helps me stand up, and I rest my foot gingerly on the ground.

“Want to try something … higher?” His tone is playful.

I’m about to say no, when I catch a flash of something in his eyes. His grin widens. He wants a challenge? “Take us to the highest point.”

“Thought you’d say that.” Zig smiles, takes my hand, and shifts.