Death Collectors: Ember Part 19

My muscles tense as I take her hand. A thick, vile sensation blasts up my arm. Blood and a thousand petals scattered across the dirt. An angel stands in the center of a mob, stripped of its feathers, and beaten blue. Their face is curtained with a halo of black hair. She steps forward and raises a knife, but a black figure swoops down from the sky and s.n.a.t.c.hes her by the shoulders. She screams as they fly up, up, up and then drops her to the earth.

I jerk back at the X on her wrist. "Who are you?"

She tugs the sleeve of her jacket down and turns for the door. "I'd watch out, Ember," she says, opening the door. "They say insanity is pa.s.sed down through generations. And your dad was diagnosed with schizophrenia, which can surface at a young age." She slams the door behind her.

It takes every ounce of strength I own not to jump up from the chair, pick the lock on the door, and chase her down. Thirty minutes later they release me. They have no real evidence that I did anything wrong, besides not reporting that my car was missing. I go to collect my things at the window and the big-haired lady with bright blue eye shadow hands me a plastic bag containing my bracelets. She turns her back to the window and I bang on it.

She glances over her shoulder at me, annoyed. "May I help you?"

I hold up a bag and jiggle it in front of the window. "Yeah, I had a necklace in here."

She spins her chair around and stares at the bag skeptically. "One moment please." She rolls to the phone and takes her sweet time hanging up. "That's all that was collected."

Glancing at the bag, I shake my head. "No, I had a necklace with a big maroon jewel."

"Well then it sounds like you'll be able to find it easily when you get home." She huffs out of her chair and walks out the side door.

I dump the bracelets on the counter, fasten them on my wrists, and clasp my silver-winged earrings into my ears. "I know I was wearing my necklace."

Raven and her brother, Todd, are sitting in the waiting room, which only has one other person, an older man eating an egg Mcm.u.f.fin. Raven runs up to give me a hug, but quickly stops herself. She zips up the suede jacket that's over her thin silk pajama set.

Todd is twenty years old and is the spitting male version of Raven. He has spiky blue hair, a lip piercing, and tattoos all over his muscular arms.

"Hey troublemaker." He gives me a hug and I inhale through my nose until it's over. "What the h.e.l.l did you do this time?"

We push through the gla.s.s doors and I bask in my freedom. The sun is awake, the sky a clear blue. Elderly couples stroll up the sidewalk and eat breakfast out on the patios. Pink flyers with Kelsey's face on them are plastered all over the street posts, doors, and walls of the surrounding buildings.

"Well apparently it's a crime to crash your car into a lake and then not tell anyone." I slide into the backseat of his 1980 Pontiac Firebird with a large eagle painted on the hood.

"Wait? You wrecked your dad's Challenger?" He revs up the gas and the engine backfires. "Like it's gone?"

Raven exchanges a look with me and I shake my head. She wants to know what really happened, but I don't want to tell her in front of Todd. The first thing I need to do is talk to Asher. Because I think I'm ready to hear his answers now.

Todd takes us to breakfast at Sherry's Diner. It's a seventies themed restaurant where they still allow people to smoke. Our waitress is Betty Lou, a middle-aged woman with big beehive hair, oval gla.s.ses, and a white ap.r.o.n over her pink dress.

"Hi y'all," she drawls. "What can I get you?"

Raven and I are sitting side-by-side in the booth across from Todd, reading over the same menu. "Can we have just a second?" Raven asks.

Todd hands Betty Lou his menu and tells her, "I'll have eggs, scrambled, wheat toast, and a ham steak."

Betty Lou jots his order down. "I'll go put this order in and come back and get y'alls after."

Once she's gone, Todd gets up from the table. "I'm going to go use the men's room."

He struts toward the back area of the restaurant and Raven whispers in my ear, "He's s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the waitress."

I pull a face. "Betty Lou?"

She rolls her eyes and points her finger at a slender waitress with fiery red hair standing behind the serving counter. "That one... wait just a second and she'll walk back toward the bathrooms."

We pretend to stare at our menus, but really our attention is on the girl. Her nametag says Steph. She's pretty, maybe a few years older than Todd, but other than that she seems like his type. Sure enough, about a minute after Todd vanishes into the bathroom, Steph goes wandering back there.

"How do you know about them?" I ask Raven.

She runs her finger down the menu. "He's been bringing me to either dinner or breakfast here almost every day for the last two weeks and it's like a freaking routine. So are you going to tell me what's up with the police?"

Betty Lou appears at the end of our table and we hurry and give her our orders. She collects the menu, walks behind the counter, and refills the gla.s.ses of water for the people at the bar.

"Before I tell you," I say in a hushed voice. "I need you to tell me about that X on your shoulder."

She frowns and unzips her jacket to show me her shoulder blade. "It was just a scratch I got when I was making out with Laden. His stupid car had a wire sticking out of it."

There isn't anything left of the scratch. "Okay, then why were you acting so... happy after he died?"

She puts her jacket back on and flips her bubblegum pink hair out of the collar. "Something really bad happened that night... Laden almost raped me."

My heart literally stops. "What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because he disappeared right after it happened and I worried I'd become a suspect." She peeks over her shoulder and then drops her voice. "Besides, you have your own stuff to deal with, like death and your mom and Ian."

"You could have told me," I whisper. "I wouldn't have told anyone. And I can handle more than you think."

"No, you think you can handle more." She takes a sip of her water. "But it's okay. I talked to Asher about it and he really helped me understand. And that whole psychotic episode I was having was just my need to deal with what happened."

"When did you talk to Asher?" My voice comes out sharp and I clear my throat. "I'm sorry, I just didn't know you two had been hanging out with each other."

"Calm down." She scoots the utensils out of the way and rests her elbow onto the table. "We're just friends. And I was talking to him about it because he was the one who saved me from getting raped."

"That's... that's not possible," I stammer. "He was saving me that night."

She thrums her finger on her lip. "Well, it was before or after he saved me then."

I shake my head. "There's no way he could have made it to both places in time."

"I'm not sure, Em... maybe you should ask him because all I know is that Laden is a rapist and I don't feel bad that he's gone. And Asher was basically my angel that day."

"Your angel? What do you mean by that?"

She quickly looks away. "It's a figure of speech, silly."

"And what about Garrick?" I ask. "Where does he come to play in all this?"

"Oh, he was there that night too," she says staring across the restaurant. "Garrick and Asher both showed up when it happened. Asher knocked Laden off me and then Garrick took me home. I'm not sure what Asher did with Laden, although I have a guess."

"Asher wouldn't kill someone." But I hardly know him, so there isn't much proof behind my statement. "And besides, whoever made Laden disappear also made my dad disappear. And Asher wasn't even around when that happened."

"Maybe it was just one of those freakish coincidences? Or a copycat? And would it matter if Asher did kill Laden?" She focuses her eyes on me. "He had me pinned down with a knife to my throat. I'm pretty sure he was going to kill me."

I speechlessly stutter for words that don't exist. Thankfully Todd drops down in our booth. He pulls a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and pops it between his lips.

"Okay, so what'd I miss?" He lights the cigarette and exhales. "Anything good?"

Raven and I let out a loud breath. "Nope," we both say.

Todd makes Raven go home with him to help clean the house, which gives me a little more time to figure out how much I want to tell her. Someone has painted "Murderer" in bright red across our front door. This happened a few times after my dad disappeared, only it was on my car window and it usually happened in the parking lot of the school.

I grab a can of paint remover from the garage. "It's like a freaking witch hunt," I say as I work to scrub it off. In the end, half the paint comes off the door, but it's better paint-less than labeled with hate.

As soon as I make it to my room, I find my cell and dial Asher's number. It sends me straight to his voicemail, so I text him.

Me: We need 2 talk.

Asher: Why? What's wrong? R U ok?

Me: I'm fine. I just have some questions.

Asher: Out with my mom running errands. Can I talk to u tomorrow at the dance?

Me: Dance???

Asher: Yeah. The Halloween dance. I thought we could go.

I complete forgot tomorrow was Halloween and that there was a dance at our school. But I'm not really the dancing type.

Me: I guess. But can I meet u there?

Just in case this goes bad, I'll have my own ride home. I need to know what the Anamotti is, if he knows anything about detective Crammer, and what he knows about Angels and Grim Reapers.

Asher: Sure... r u ok?

Me: Yep. I just really need 2 talk to u about something... the thing we talked about the other night. I think I'm ready for the answers. And I have other questions 4 you.

It takes him a second to text back.

Asher: I know. I'll c u at the dance at 7. I'll b the one dressed as the artist ;) I smile at the message, but then quickly erase it. Please, oh please don't let him be a serial killer. I like him too much. I toss the phone on my bed. It's early and I start to climb into bed to get some rest.

"Ian!" My mom's scream echoes through the house. I trip out of bed and stumble down the hall into her room. Her bed is unmade and her waitress uniform is discarded on the floor. The bathroom door is shut and the k.n.o.b is covered with blood.

I pad up to the door and ask tentatively, "Mom? Are you in there?"

She sobs from other side. "Go away... I want Ian."

I jiggle the doork.n.o.b. "Mom, unlock the door. Ian's not here right now, but I am."

"No!" She screams. "I don't want you here. You're a killer! You're a killer! You killed your grandma!"

I bang my fist on the door. "Mom, please just open the door up. You're scaring me."

Something bashes against the other side and gla.s.s shatters. I run into my room, grab my phone off the dresser, and call Ian on my way back to her bedroom.

He picks up after three rings. Music blares in the background. "Yo, yo, yo. What up?" He's drunk.

"You need to come home," I demand. "Now. Mom's having another one of her meltdowns and she only wants to talk to you."

"What?" His voice sobers up.

"She locked herself in..." I trail off. The bathroom door is open. "Ian, just get here now. And get someone sober to drive you."

"Okay," he says, frazzled. "I'll be there in ten."

I hang up, toss the phone on the bed, and check inside the bathroom. The white tile is obscured with fragments of gla.s.s and the sink and mirror are stained with blood. The shower curtain is torn from the rod and pills scatter the inside of the bathtub.

"Mom." I step back into the bedroom and glance under the bed. "Ian's on his way, and he told me to tell you that it was okay to talk to me." I pad over to the closet door and throw it open. "Mom?"

"I'm not in there." Her chillingly numb voice floats over my shoulder.

I spin around and press my hand against my heart. "You scared me."

She's just outside the doorway with a pair of scissors in her hand. An X on her forehead drips blood into her eyes and the entire front of her s.h.i.+rt is drenched in blood. "It's not okay to be around you at all." Her eyes are unemotional, as if she's detached from reality. Blood trickles from her wrists as she raises the scissors above her head. "You're a killer! The cops think so! And Grandma knew, even though she wasn't thinking rationally. But you did it anyway."

I surrender my hands in front of me and slowly back up, seeking the bed for my phone. "Mom, how many of those pills did you take?"

"Enough to numb the pain-he told me I had to." She skulks into the room, then pauses, slanting back as if someone is whispering in her ear. "Yes, I know, but she's not... Okay, I will try." Her soulless gaze locks on me. "Ember, my dear child, why did you ever have to be born? Ian was fine and your father and I were so happy his disorder did not pa.s.s along to him. But then you arrived and we could see it in your eyes. The way you talked to the air and whispered secrets to the plants while you drained their life away."

"I..." Does she know about me? "Mom, what are you talking about?" I reach over the bed for my phone. "And Dad didn't have schizophrenia, everyone just thought he did."

"I'm not talking about schizophrenia!" She shrieks, her face bright red. "I'm talking about a curse pa.s.sed along to you."

My fingers brush the edge of the phone. "Mom, just calm down-"

She rages forward with the scissors held out in front of her. I leap on the bed and bolt for the bathroom, but she cuts around the bed and sinks the scissors into my chest.

"Mom..." I stare at the scissors pierced deeply into my heart. A river of blood streams out and I gasp for air as I fall onto the bed.

She hovers over me, watching me with expectancy, like she is waiting for something miraculous to happen. "I'm sorry, my sweet baby, but he made me do it. Death is more powerful than the mind."

Blood gurgles up my throat as I yank out the scissors. "Mommy..."

She places her hand over my heart. "Go ahead, take it. I know you can. You did it with your grandma."

Blood seeps out the hole in my chest and runs a river over her hand. I look into her eyes, wondering if it's really her in there or if tonight her mind finally took the final flight.

Thump, thump, thump, thump. My heart sings a song as it dies.