Reaper

“Funny,” I muttered, more to myself than anyone, though I knew they could hear me. “I can’t say the same about you.”

I’m still not entirely sure where that came from. It certainly wasn’t something I would normally say. Normal Charlie would be too afraid to speak, nervous about all the people I didn’t know and were too intimidated to talk to. But slowly, I was realizing that I wasn’t that Charlie anymore. Against better judgment, I had been pulled out of my anxiety when it came to talking to other people. I didn’t feel like I needed to be afraid of them – if I could handle the supernatural, what was the worst that a human could do to me?

Granted, Isis wasn’t human, but still. She was a Reaper. But, if she couldn’t Feed from me, and her werewolves couldn’t affect me… well, that made her about as dangerous as a human, right?

Sawyer squeezed my arm as a warning. As he did so, my hands brushed over the pocket of my jeans, and I felt a small lump of plastic in there. I felt my heart beat just a little bit faster. The plan was going to work after all.

Isis raised an eyebrow. “Not what I expected, given what I’ve learned about you. I assumed you to be a little more… demure.” She smiled wickedly. “It’s nice to see a girl with some backbone.”

I didn’t say anything to that. I just pursed my lips.

“It would do you good, however, to remember something.” She held out a graceful hand toward Jesse, who was kneeling to my right. “While you may be immune to Reapers, Charlotte – and may I say what a marvelous gift that is – your friend here,” she nodded at him, “ isn’t.”

And with that the guard’s eyes illuminated, and I knew exactly what he was going to do.

“Stop!” I yelped before Sawyer stopped me from launching toward him. Jesse’s eyes were wide with fear, but he had tape over his mouth so that he couldn’t speak.

Isis held up her hand. The guard calmed down.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she mused, and she smirked.

I scowled. “What do you want, Isis? You’ve tracked me halfway across the country – I’m guessing it’s not for my personality,” I said dryly.

The guard snickered. Isis narrowed her giant eyes at him, but she didn’t otherwise acknowledge him. I heard Sawyer’s sharp intake of breath through his nose. I don’t think he appreciated my newfound confidence.

Isis looked less than pleased. “I’m sure you’re aware of the significance of your ability. Otherwise you’d be more careful about your tone when speaking to me.” She carefully took a step down from her platform, folding her hands calmly in front of her.

I eyed her passively, tilting my jaw away from her.

“What I want,” she continued, “Is to know how you do it. How you resist the Reaper’s hold... the Werewolf’s curse… the Vampire’s venom…” Her voice was soft, melodic, and hypnotizing. I could see how she got her way so often – it must be hard for anyone of the male gender to resist her.

Slowly, she walked up to me, extending one of those hands toward my face. Once she got closer, I realized that her hands weren’t as silky-looking up close as they had been at a distance. This close to my face, they looked claw-like and bony, and I felt a chill pass through my spine as she carefully placed her fingertips on my cheek, stroking softly.

It occurred to me then that I should be very, very afraid of her. I had been for so long, scared of a faceless power with a name that instilled fear in my heart. But here, in front of me, she looked less powerful than I imagined. She stared at me with evil eyes as she touched my cheek, a small smile playing on her pale lips, but for the life of me I couldn’t find the will to be afraid. I don’t know what it was – perhaps it was the anger for capturing Sawyer, or for chasing me down like a wanted criminal, or for using Jesse as a method of blackmail – but all I felt toward this woman was resentment, not fear.

Sawyer could Sense this. I’m sure they all could, but Sawyer in particular seemed to grow more and more uncomfortable as I thought about this. It was making his Hunger spike, and part of me felt a little guilty for that, but more of me was seeing red. I was angrier than I had ever been in my life.

“You’re very useful to me,” she purred, her hand still on my face, “With you, I could be invincible.”

“Am I?” I said sarcastically. “You’ve certainly gone through enough trouble.”

Suddenly, she brought back her hand and slapped me. Hard.

I cursed loudly as my head whipped to the side, my cheek stinging. I was disoriented for a moment, my ears ringing with pain, as I processed what had just happened. I blinked a few times, willing back the tears that had formed there because like hell was I going to cry in front of her. But she did have inhuman strength, and I had never been slapped like that before.

Sawyer stiffened. “Isis,” he hissed, yanking me backwards and closer to him.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you going to bite your tongue, or do I have to slap you again?”
I glared at her, but I didn’t say anything else. Not that I really could, because my entire face was hot and stinging.

“Good.” She took a few steps backwards, up to the foot of her chair – throne? – and clasped her hands behind her back. She tilted her head up towards the ceiling, as though she were watching the sunset through the massive windows above, thinking. Her long white gown trailed behind her, and I wondered if that was a fashion statement or a wedding dress. Either way, it made her look angelic, ethereal, supernatural.

“I want to know how it works,” she finally said bluntly, staring me down.

I made a face – ow. “Well, that makes two of us.” I pursed my lips. “Actually, more than two. You’re going to have to get in line, really, because no one really seems to get it, least of all me.”

I could tell she almost wanted to slap me again, but she didn’t. She froze as she was pacing, her face dropping for a millisecond in something that looked like shock. “You’ll do well not to lie to me, Charlotte,” she hissed, her eyebrows pulling together in the middle menacingly.

“You can ask Sawyer,” I retorted, raising an eyebrow. “Or Jesse. We have no idea. And I’m not lying to you – they also know I have a terrible poker face. My nostrils flare when I’m lying.” I glanced back at Sawyer, who was grinning stupidly. “Or so I’m told.”

I was lying. Sawyer knew I was lying - Simon had realized when we cured Jesse how my ability worked, through some sort of enzyme in my blood - but Isis didn't know that. Somewhere, I knew that my only tell was my nose, so I made a conscious effort to control it as I stared her down, willing her to believe me.

Her face got even paler, if that was possible. “You must be joking.” Her eyes had gone wide with fear, as if she had made a big, big mistake.

“I’m really not,” I replied, stretching my cheek the best I can to get some of the feeling back. Jesus, she can slap people like a pro. “I don’t know how to help you, to be honest. And from the looks of it, you really don’t have the personnel to help yourself, now, do you?” I raised my eyebrow again, nodding to the werewolves. One of them began scratching his head, as if to illustrate my point. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t go through the trouble of blackmailing me to do it. Which, by the way, I’m not a huge fan of.” Jesse shifted uncomfortably in his restraints.

Isis snarled at me. “I could kill you in an instant,” she hissed.

“You could,” I acquiesced, “But then you really wouldn’t know anything, and then you would have gone through all that for nothing.” She made a move to speak. “You could kill Jesse, sure, but then I really won’t tell you anything, and you’d have to kill me, too. So, either way, Isis, it seems like you don’t actually have the upper hand here, do you?”

Jesse’s eyes widened, and he made a loud groan from behind the duct tape in protest. The guard smacked him, and I winced.

Isis wasn’t facing me anymore. She was standing in front of her throne, her hands still clasped behind her back. Her tiny shoulders were tense as she stared away from me. She was obviously calculating something, something big, and I just prayed that she wasn’t about to snap and kill me. I knew I was pressing my luck, but at this point I felt like I had nothing left to lose.

“Your friends won’t be able to find you,” she said quietly, so softly that I almost thought I hadn’t heard her correctly.

“W-What?”

She turned to face me, her expression unreadable. “All traces of you and your friend will have been masked by my companions.” She nodded to the wolves. “Your tracker friend? Gone. The smelling one? No luck. The mind reader? Nothing.” She smiled again, sensing her impending victory.

Well, that changes things.

I looked around the room, searching for something, anything, that could give me hope.

A shadow. My heart nearly stopped as I saw a shadow appear at the windows above, the shape of a person. There were a few, and as I continued to look up, I realized that there were many, many shadows up there, not just three or four. They began to crowd until the windows were filled with nothing but silhouettes, poised at the windows.

They were here.

“That was good planning, on your part,” I told her, pulling the zip-ties up to my mouth so that I could pull it tighter. She stared at me like I was a lunatic. “Under most circumstances, you would have won because of that. My Reaper companions would be rendered useless, just like they had been when Sawyer disappeared.” I continued to tighten the plastic until it bit into my skin. “We were almost ready to give up hope looking for him.”

She raised an eyebrow, curious. “So?”

“Well, it seems like you’ve forgotten about one method of tracking, Isis, that will serve you well to remember in the future.”

Hastily, I raised my hands above my head. Sawyer relinquished his grip on my upper arm in surprise as I did so, his hand falling away in shock. I held my bound hands up as high as I could, and brought them down hard onto my hipbones. The plastic came apart with a satisfying snap, and I blinked in surprise – holy hell, it worked! Noah had taught me how to get out of a zip tie before, but never had I thought I would actually have to use it.

Isis continued to stare at me, dumbfounded. “What – What is that?”

I smiled, and took out the small lump in my pocket. “GPS.”

And with that, the windows high above us all began to shatter, showering the room with shards of glass.

The shadows hastily jumped down into the room, and the shouting and screaming began. Sawyer quickly jumped on top of me, shielding me from the glass, as hoards of figures descended from the higher floor. The guard who had been watching Jesse quickly abandoned him, choosing instead to protect Isis, who was looking panicked. Jesse followed my example with the zip ties and got himself freed, ripping the duct tape off of his mouth.

The room was chaos. The wolves sprung from their posts, ready for battle, as the figures descended into the room. I realized after my eyes adjusted that they were on ropes that had been thrown over the edge of the window sills. Wait – why would the Reapers do that? Had they not brought in backup with the vampires? Why would they need ropes? Surely they could survive the fall, couldn’t they?

Suddenly my heart was in my throat. These weren’t Reapers, I realized with a shock. They weren’t vampires, either.

They were humans. We were in the middle of a SWAT raid.

But, I realized vaguely, they weren’t wearing uniforms. They were protected with armor, but they were misshapen and mismatched, as though they had been thrown together by a ragtag militia. They weren’t government-issued, I knew that much from what Noah had told and shown me in years past. So, if they were people, who in the hell were they?

Gunshots rang out. I screamed as one of the werewolves nearby fell, wailing a horrible sound, as blood blossomed on its chest. These men were armed – armed! – and were picking off the wolves, one by one, before any of them were hurt.

Sawyer quickly grabbed my shoulders and hoisted me up, covering me with his arm. He grabbed Jesse by the bicep and quickly pulled us toward the door, away from the fray, shouting something in my ear that I couldn’t hear over the roar in the room.

Just as we approached the door, one of the men who had dropped from the ceiling stopped us, pointing a gun at Sawyer’s head.

I realized then who the man was, underneath a coat of camouflage paint on his face. How could I not – he and I had the same one.

It was my brother, and he was about to shoot Sawyer in the head.