The Spider Catcher (Redemption by A.L. Tyler Book 1) (11 page)

Next to them, there was a large pile of what looked like drowned rats. As Ember got closer, the small dead eyes of twenty dead rabbits stared back at her, and she took a sharp breath in.

“Jesus. Finally.” Kaylee said, standing up and thrusting something slimy at Ember. “Make her do it—it’s boring when they’re already dead.”

When the dead ruin of a rabbit slapped wetly against the front of her jacket, Ember starting walking backwards.

“No, no, no, no…”

Isaac’s dreamy smile quickly sank into a frown as Kaylee snorted, turning around and tossing the corpse into the fire before wiping her hands off on her shirt. Isaac snatched the rabbit from the flames as she stalked off into the forest, grumbling about Acton’s fetishes.

Ember looked to Asher, who rolled his eyes before looking to Acton. As his eyes settled on her, and he gave her a calm, confident smile, Ember felt the weight of the situation settle on her.

There was a pile of cold, dead rabbits sitting next to the fire; Isaac was slowly stroking one of the skinned corpses.

“No, no, no—“

Ember looked down sharply when she felt Asher’s hand close like a vice around her upper arm, and felt her stomach sink when she looked up into the cold, cynical expression on his face.

Without knowing what she was doing, or even meaning to do it, she wrenched her arm free from Asher’s grasp and darted into the forest. Behind her, she heard Acton barking an order for Isaac to bring back Joseph before the loud buzz of adrenaline and a racing heartbeat filled her ears. She took ten long strides into the dark, and then turned, hoping that she was going back in the direction of her mother’s house, but she wasn’t sure—she couldn’t remember leaving the house, or which direction they had come from to begin with.

She had just hurdled a fallen tree and ducked between two bushes, and was almost sure that she had gotten away, when a tree branch sprung out in front of her at the level of her chest. She didn’t even feel the impact until she was lying on her back on the forest floor, staring at the stars, and sucking in air as her chest and back throbbed.

“Ash, if that jacket is damaged, I’m making a new one out of your hide.”

Ember felt a pair of hands grab her and lift her up from under her armpits, the way someone would lift a small child. She was staring into Acton’s face, wondering how he could look so studiously calm and annoyed when she could hardly breathe after her sprint.

“She ran into me. Make it out of her hide.” Asher laughed.

Acton’s brow furrowed as he gently squeezed Ember’s ribcage.  When she tried to push him away, he gave her a long, icy stare, and she didn’t dare move again. Even when he set her down, all she could do was stand there. If she ran, he would catch her.

“Ash,” Acton said, turning toward his companion. “If you had damaged this jacket, you would be less some skin. But if you had damaged Gina’s daughter, you would be less a life.”

“I’m not your size.” Asher said with exasperation. “And the girl and the jacket are fine! What would you have me do, Acton? She could just as easily hurt herself struggling if I had tried to tackle her.”

Ember was already eyeing the next break in the bushes, and wondering if she would be able to slip her arm out of the jacket fast enough if he tried to grab her. The woods were suddenly dark and cold, and the sharp shadows cast by the moon made everything black or white and feral. The air was sharp and wet, and Ember was suddenly so aware of her surroundings that she couldn’t stop staring at the glimmering light on every fog-dripping trunk that loomed ahead of her; she turned her gaze back to Acton.

He was staring at her with a small frown.  He knew what she was thinking, and he wanted her to run. And as the stars behind him started to glitter like sequins, so bright that it was blinding, somehow, she knew he was making it happen.

She clenched her fists as she stared at him, gritting her teeth until pain shot through her jaw and she could see his face again.

She heard Asher laugh, and it broke her concentration, making her shut her eyes and shake her head at the ground as her knuckles turned white. “Oh, my god, is she actually—“

“Go help Isaac.” Acton said curtly. “Get Joseph back to the beach, and wait for me.”

“You’re sure—“

“
Yes.
” He snapped, his eyes resting heavily on Asher for a second.

Ember was slowly sinking to her knees, her hands still clenched in on themselves and her eyes shut, shaking her head as she whispered nonsense to herself. Asher took off through the brush, and Acton stared down at the girl on the ground.

“You should listen to your mother,” he started, his voice flat. “She must have told you by now that I’m nothing but trouble, but you don’t care, do you? Ember, I believe you’re the only person I’ve ever met who wants to prove her wrong more than I do. Is that why you keep coming out here?”

Ember was silent, her arms wrapped around her knees, and Acton’s coat so large on her that the hem was dragging on the forest floor. Acton slowly lowered himself down to her level, staring at the top of her head as she buried her face in her knees.

“You break the spell every night. You know what we’re doing, but you keep coming out here.” He raised a hand to feel a stray lock of her hair. “You came out here once, and when I didn’t come for you, you screamed my name, over and over and over—it was very flattering. But Ember, I’ll give you the courtesy of a warning, because I don’t play gently with my toys. You should go home.”

When she heard him rise and move away, she counted to one hundred before she slowly lifted her head. He was gone. The world was quiet and dark again; the only sounds were her breathing, and the slow pulse of blood in her ears.

“You want me to run, don’t you?” She whispered.

The seconds slowly ticked on. Ember was counting her heartbeats in her head, knowing that she wouldn’t stop for days now that she had started. Counting things was something she did when the anxiety started, although usually, it was her footfalls that she counted as she walked, and that fact made her legs ache beneath even more.

When the cold, damp hand laid against the back of her neck, snaking around to her collar bone and raising chicken flesh on her arms and down her back, she knew she had been right.

“And what do you want, Ember?” He whispered, his breath colder than the night air on the back of her ear. “You seek me out every night, and you follow me. You make me babysit you, and keep Asher’s hands and Isaac’s teeth off of you. If Gina didn’t hate the thought of you out here so much, I could swear that you were some trick of hers. Is that what you are? A Trojan horse? Does she intend for me to split you open and find my death inside?”

Despite the bravery she thought she felt, Ember was shaking. She didn’t know what to say. “She burned your books.”

“Yes, you told me yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that,” he sighed.

Ember furrowed her brow; he had only given her the books two days ago…or was it three? She shook her head, and felt his hand snap away from her. “How long have I been here?”

“Long enough.” Acton said, walking back in front of her. “Stand up.”

Ember peered up at him, and when she didn’t rise fast enough, he grabbed her by the neck of her shirt to force her up.

“Tell me why you came back,” he demanded.

Ember stared at him, trying to swallow the dry knot in her throat. When the light caught Acton’s eyes right, they flashed, like animals’ eyes. “You’re…not normal.”

“Neither are you,” he said answered. “Answer the question. Why did you come back here? Why are you chasing me?”

“I’m not!” Ember insisted.

“I went for a walk in the forest, in the dead of night, and you followed me. I went in the water, and you followed me,” he said, circling her. “One night, when I wasn’t up to babysitting you, Asher told you that I had climbed a tree, and you went up the tree after me. Why?”

Ember was shaking her head, trying to comprehend what he was saying; the water was too cold. No one could swim in it without going in to shock, and she had never climbed a tree in her life. “I don’t…I don’t remember.”

“Does she want me to kill you?” Acton said, stopping in front of her. “So that she has a reason to burn me?”

Ember was still shaking her head.  She felt like Alice, fallen into Wonderland, but one where all of the rabbits were dead. She stopped, looking Acton in the eyes for the first time since he had tried to hypnotize her. “What are you, Acton? Are you a ghost? A monster?”

“I’m everyone.” Acton spat.  For the first time since she had met him, his slow, cool smile went all the way to his eyes, and it terrified her. “But that doesn’t matter. You’re not going to remember any of this, anyway.”

Chapter 9

As Ember wavered, standing over the toilet, she knew the nausea was coming again. It was the middle of the day, and she was exhausted.  Days had become her nights, and for the last three, she had been too sick to even sleep. She couldn’t remember what she had eaten to make her so sick, but doubtless, the alcohol was contributing to the situation.

It came up in clots; sometimes, there was blood. Once, she thought that there was fur, and for one horrifying moment, she could have sworn that she had vomited up a small family of white mice.
Impossible
, her brain had said,
impossible, impossible…

And she flushed. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world; her eyes were swollen and tired, and she was probably still drunk, anyways.

Sometimes, Gina would stand by the bathroom door and just watch her; she had stopped talking to her for the most part. Once, when Ember had coughed and screamed in horror at the red mess sliding back up her throat, Gina had rushed in and held her as they both sat on the cold tile floor.

Stroking her hair like she was a small child again, and using wads of toilet paper to clean her face, her voice had been incredibly steady. “It’s not yours, baby, it’s not your blood. Just get it all out, and you’ll feel better.”

Afterwards, she would crawl back to her room, and under a stack of blankets nearly as thick as her mattress. She could feel the sun beating down on her, through the roof, the boarded up window, and all of her blankets.  It made her head throb, and the thought that the mice were inside her, scratching against her skull to get out, wouldn’t let her sleep.

Even in fits and naps, the sleep always came, and as her headaches burned away into darkness, night always came. Sometimes, she was too sick to go out, but it only took time to heal. When she was sick, Gina would sit with her, and sometimes Thalia would stare at her from the open door, her eyes wide with wonder at the living corpse that her sister had become.

When Gina was cooking the meals, she would sneak in to see her sister, perching at the foot of the bed like a nervous sparrow.

“Ember?” She whispered, leaning over the mountain of blankets. “Are you awake?”

Her voice was barely loud enough to make it through all of the insulation. “Hm.”

“Can I get you anything?” She asked. “Anything to make you feel better?”

Ember rolled on to her back, staring at the spider that had moved into her room sometime in the last week. He had built a web in the corner above her bed, and occasionally hung within the distance of her breath, dangling from a gossamer thread. She would press her lips close together and breathe out slowly, creating a little wind for the spider, and he would sail through the air with his legs twirling like a ballerina.

Spiders kept the nightmares away, and she was appreciative for her little friend. When she looked at him, she felt peaceful; but when Thalia asked questions about what would make her happy again, it brought her thoughts crashing down again.

“Nothing.” She would whisper back at her. “I don’t need anything, ‘Lia.”

And Thalia would look at the floor and nod, and get up and leave. As night drew nearer, and the headache broke, Ember felt strong enough to be out of bed. She would go down to the kitchen, have a glass of water, heat up some soup, and then dress for the night. But on this night, when she went up to put her jeans on, she found a piece of paper tucked into her pocket.

She stared at it, scrawled in her own handwriting on what looked like an old bar napkin. She remembered being at the bar the night before, but couldn’t say when this had happened.

You came back for your family.

He made you eat a rabbit.

Don’t trust Acton Knox.

Chapter 10

Later that night, Ember stood in a dark corner at The Garden, staring around at all of the regulars. She remembered their faces, but she didn’t know why.  She didn’t know many of them, but even standing alone and inconspicuous in a corner, they seemed to know her. She crossed her arms, watching as the eyes diverted away from her just as she looked over, the people whispering to each other and snickering nervously.

Once, it would have bothered her. Now, it annoyed her.

A half hour went by, and then another. When two hours had gone by, and Acton hadn’t made an appearance, she went up to the bar. Zinnia Knox was there, as she usually was, wearing a metallic blue corset and peacock feathers in her hair. She smiled as Ember approached.

“Ember, sweetie! How nice to see you!” She said, her darkly colored lips spreading into a broad smile as she winked. “You’re here alone tonight?”

“Acton.” Ember replied with a frown. “Where is he?”

Zinny leaned on the bar to rest her chin on her hand, batting her eyes. “He’s out with friends tonight, but you can hang around and help me, if you want.”

Ember shook her head. “I need to find Acton. Something’s going on.”

Though her gaze remained fixed and her lips never budged from their smile, the mask fled from her eyes. “What do you mean, Em?”

Getting up close to the bar, and leaning in to lower her voice, she watched Zinny’s face as she spoke. “Did Acton make me eat a rabbit?”

Zinny’s smile sank like melting wax. As she slowly stepped back from Ember, her feet crunching on the peanut shells on the floor behind the bar, her expression transformed into a dark-eyed snarl.

“My son would never.” She said in a low, deadly tone. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. You should be grateful.”

“Where is he?” Ember demanded.

Zinny crossed her arms. “Have a seat.”

Pursing her lips, Ember crossed her arms to match Zinny’s stance. She continued to stand.

“Sit down.” Zinny said, this time more forcefully. “And I’ll go find him for you. Don’t make me call your mother, Em—I’ll do it. And I’ll tell her everything that you’ve been doing here.”

Ember scoffed. “I’m a lost cause. She won’t care.”

Zinny slammed her palm down on the bar, making everyone sitting down the way jump and look over. “She’ll care about what I have to say, Ember Gillespie, because Acton would never do that thing you said. If you ate a rabbit, it was of your own volition, and your mother will know it.  Now,
sit down!
”

Ember swallowed, knowing that Gina wouldn’t bother herself to come and retrieve her.  However, the warning stood as a stark reminder of exactly how alone she was, and she sat. As Zinny stalked off, fidgeting with her hair in annoyance as she went, a cold chill ran down Ember’s spine.

“My, my…” Asher said, sliding in to the seat next to her. “You’re a clever girl. Who told you about the rabbit?”

“I did.” Ember snapped, shifting uneasily.

Asher had composed himself to face her, leaning on the bar and letting his knees rest wide. He grinned when she finally looked over.

“You didn’t win,” he shook his head. “So you couldn’t possibly remember. If you assuage my curiosity now, I might decide to return the favor and keep Kaylee from fishing it out of your head later. Who’s the traitor?”

When Ember turned back, staring across the bar with determination, Asher stood and launched himself over the bar like a skilled gymnast. He put a beer in front of her as she glared at him.

“Come on, what’s got you down today, little birdie?” Asher said, resting his elbows on the bar. “You’re usually so happy to see me.”

Ember eyed the beer suspiciously. He stood in front of her, refusing to move as he pouted at her, until she finally relented.

“How drunk was I when I ate it?”

Asher’s mouth dropped open a half-inch, but then he laughed, picking up the beer and taking a gulp. “You don’t remember a damn thing.”

“Which means you must have cheated.”

The sound of his voice so close behind her made Ember jump. She spun around on her seat, her eyes going wide, and nearly falling down as she tried to find the floor with her feet. Acton was standing so close that there wasn’t enough room, and she had to slip back onto the bar seat when she had only gotten halfway off.

“You’re getting annoying, Ember,” he said crossing his arms and frowning. Ember heard Asher’s feet land next to her as he vaulted back over the bar.

“You made me eat a rabbit,” she accused.

Acton looked at her for a moment; then, he shrugged it off. “I would never do something like that,” he said lightly.

“I can’t trust you,” Ember pressed.

Acton took a half step forward, closing what little distance was between them, and laying his hands on her shoulders. His lips twitched in amusement. “Em, this is the third time. I’m afraid I have to demand to know how you’re doing this.”

“Are you going to have Kaylee fish it out of my head?” She spat back at him.

Asher held up a finger. “That one, I gave her.”

Acton took his hands back, crossing his arms across his chest as he paced for a moment. He turned back to Ember, and smiled as her eyes continued to drive into him.

“I’ll tell you what…” he said finally. “You apparently like games, and you have a strong desire to prove yourself. Let’s play a game, Em. If I win, you’ll tell me how you did it this time.”

“If I win, I want to know how you did it,” she shook her head. “I want to know why you made me eat the rabbit, and what the hell is going on around here.”

Acton smiled. “I can accept those terms.”

Asher was already walking towards the door. When Acton held out his hand to her, Ember could only stare at him with incredulity. She got down from her bar stool and sullenly followed Asher out of the bar. Acton walked behind her, never more than two steps behind, but so quiet that Ember found herself constantly turning to see if he was still there. He always was.

Once they had left the bar, and walked to the end of Main and into the forest, Acton started talking. His voice was calm and conversational, and Ember was surprised to find nothing but a determined confidence in her mind.

“So tell me,” Acton began, taking a few steps to bring them even with each other. “Why are you walking in the forest with two men who obviously mean to do you harm? You’re smarter than that.”

Ember shook her head. “You won’t kill me. You would have done it already. I’ve been stone cold drunk too many times……you’ve had too many opportunities.”

Ember heard him breathe a smile, and looked over just in time to see him shaking his head.

“I can count the number of times you’ve been drunk on one hand, Em. The opportunities have been far fewer than you think.”

“It’s my mom, then.” Ember said. “You’re afraid of her. You won’t hurt me because of her.”

When Acton didn’t respond for a long while, she took her eyes off the ground to look at him again. His hand shot out to grab the back of her shirt and jacket just as she stepped into a sudden dip in the ground and lost her footing.  He hadn’t even looked before doing it, and he held her suspended until she found her footing again.

“Keep your eyes down. There’s a lot to trip you out here, and as you’ve kindly noted, I don’t get my deposit back if I return you damaged.” He looked slightly displeased with the prospect. “Ember, I’ve never believed in souls, but if I were to make the argument, it would be you. Your mind is a blank slate, but your soul…it knows. You were an innocent thing when we met, but even now, you know you’re not that person anymore. You don’t remember why, but you know that it’s true.”

Ember shook her head slowly, trying to count the number of times she had been out drinking and gone home sick, and lost count; it was far higher than five. “Was it drugs, then? Did you rufi me?”

“See—“ Acton suddenly threw his hands up. “That term. Rufi. Where did you learn that? It wasn’t back at school.”

“Around…” Ember shrugged; she had probably heard it from Asher, or maybe Isaac. She was almost sure it was Asher, though.

They walked on for another ten minutes. Acton stayed at her side, although he didn’t speak again. Asher and Acton stopped at the same time, and Ember stopped with them, staring at Acton expectantly. Nervousness suddenly rose in her chest when she realized that the time had come for whatever was about to happen.  A polite smile came to Acton’s lips as he looked to Asher.

“Ash, please excuse us,” he said. “Find Kaylee, Isaac—“

“Joseph, beach, yeah, I know.” Asher finished for him, looking at Ember with disappointment before disappearing into the dark.

When he was gone, the silence that surrounded them was so oppressive that Ember could hardly think. There weren’t any crickets or animals making noise, and they were too far from the ocean to hear the waves. Ember couldn’t even hear her heartbeat, but she could feel it, and tried to take comfort in the slow, steady rhythm.

Acton had turned his head at an odd angle, and after several minutes, Ember realized that he was listening to something. However, even as she strained, she couldn’t figure out what it was; the night was dead to her.

His eyes flashed when he finally looked back to her.
Flashed—
like a deer’s eyes in the headlights.

“Ember, why would you come back out here after I made you eat a rabbit?” He demanded, shaking his head. “By your own word, you shouldn’t trust me, and you came back for your family.”

Ember’s jaw fell open. “You knew I had the note.”

“I made you write it,” he said, frowning. “People have begun to question my sanity for the amount of time I’ve spent with you, novelty though you are.”

“Why would you make me write that?” Ember felt her nerves suddenly turn to panic, and clenched her fists, trying to hold on to reality. The edge she had thought she had on Acton was gone.

He chose a large stump a few feet away, and sat. “I don’t answer your questions, Em. That’s not how the game works.”

“Unless I win,” Ember mumbled.

Acton pointed at her as he smiled again, although he didn’t seem happy. “See? That’s what I mean about the memories of your soul.  You don’t remember, but somehow, you know.”  He sighed.  “What should we do tonight? Do you want to drink? Climb trees? Run? Or maybe you want to choke down more road kill?”

Ember shook her head. “Checkers?”

“Boring.” Acton waved his hand and stood to walk around her in a slow circle. “Cold water. Let’s go down to the waves—“

“No!” Ember said suddenly, falling to the ground and hugging it as though it might save her. As her heart raced, she didn’t know what she was afraid of, but she knew that the beach was a bad thing.

Acton only squatted down next to her, gently prying her hands from the roots and turf they clung to. “Not that beach…a different one. I’m far from done with you tonight.”

Ember felt tears streaming from her eyes, but blinked them away as she turned to look at him, and the world went soft around the edges. She shut them immediately.

Acton’s voice was annoyed. “Fine. You’ve said before you don’t like it, but you’d better make it quick. I don’t like coddling you.”

Ember nodded.  Deep down, she remembered that Acton had a sort of gift for gaining compliance that she didn’t understand. She also knew that he wasn’t a patient man where their nighttime adventures were concerned, and when he was angry, it wasn’t a good thing for anyone.

She pulled herself to her feet, and continuing to nod nervously. The world remained cold and dark around them, and he nodded back, offering his arm before leading her off.