The Reaping (The Fahllen #1)(63)
Author: M. Leighton

“But which hall is it in?” I said to the empty room. It was no surprise when no answer came. Knowing time was quickly running out, I tried to imagine which direction the voice had come from. I decided it was definitely from my left so I chose the hall closest to me, on the left, and I took off down its dark length.

I stopped in front of the first door, straining to see the symbol etched onto its front. It was too triangular to be the right one so I moved on. The next one I came to was similar, but still not right. It had too many horizontal lines. Next.

I performed this same examination on every door down that hall. I was beginning to think I’d chosen the wrong hall when I was down to the last three doors. Door number three was all wrong. Its symbol was circular, not at all what I was searching for. Door number two looked close, but it was missing a vertical piece that I was pretty sure I’d seen. I was beginning to walk on to the last door when I saw another stroke appear.

It was as if the symbol was forming as I stood there. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I could see the vertical piece that it lacked, as well as the final horizontal line, come into view as I watched. When the last line was drawn, forming the symbol I sought, it shone brilliantly for about three seconds then started to blacken, as if it were tarnishing, fading right before my eyes.

Taking a deep breath and sending up a silent prayer to the God I was beginning to think really was up there, I twisted the door knob and stepped through.

And there I was, in the room with Nathan and the girl. And I wasn’t too late. I watched as the girl rose onto her feet in the center of the bed.

“You deserved that. And more!” The girl was shouting at Nathan and I knew her threats would come next. “Just wait until people find out what kind of a monster you really are. Only a total loser has to take what he wants because no one is willing to give it to him. And that’s what you are—a monster and a loser.”

It was like the scariest déjà vu ever. And just like in my vision, I watched Nathan’s face blanch and the girl become smug.

As the blood began to fill Nathan’s face, one thought rolled on a loop through my head because I knew what was coming. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?

I watched the surreal scene play out as if in slow motion. Nathan’s face turned beet red and he shook with rage. Then there was the cry, the one that proclaimed he was out of control and homicidal. It still sent chills down my arms, just like it had earlier.

I watched him jump up onto the bed and grab the girl by the throat. My mind scrambled for what to do. That’s when I saw Grey outside the window, watching. In reality, the look on her face was hunger. And pleasure. And that spurred me into action.

Distract him, I thought.

Concentrating on the curtains, I lit them on fire, hoping that would distract him long enough for the girl to escape. He didn’t even notice. I shook the ground, the bed trembling on its heavy frame. Nathan didn’t pause. He was intent on killing the girl.

I saw the fire burning higher and hotter and wondered if I’d acted too impulsively. Just then a vicious wind blew open the window and rain started peppering in on the curtains, quickly dousing the flames.

And my eyes met Grey’s. Her lips twisted in a dark, satisfied smile that enraged me.

I looked around frantically for something to use as a weapon, but I heard the girl’s choking sounds begin to fade. In desperation, I leapt up on the bed and kicked Nathan in the head as hard as I could.

Dazed, he sat up, releasing the girl’s throat, his body weaving dizzily. I took advantage of the opening, curled up my fingers and punched him as hard as I could in the jaw, knocking him back onto the bed.

I screamed at the girl, “Get up! Get up!” She didn’t move. I bent to look into her face. Her eyes were open and she was conscious.

“She can’t hear you,” Grey said, appearing on the other side of the bed.

I reached down to grab the girl by the shoulders and shake her when a mighty wind blew through the window and knocked me off the bed and into the wall across the room.

The gale force of the current pinned me against the wall. Helplessly, I looked back at Grey. She held one hand out toward me and with the other, she was flicking her fingers at Nathan’s face.

“Get up, loser,” she was saying.

I watched helplessly as Nathan sputtered and sat up. Disoriented at first, he looked down at the girl. I held my breath, hoping he would forget his deadly intentions. I was encouraged at first when he got off the bed. But then I heard Grey whispering something. She was chanting below her breath.

I watched Nathan go to the dresser and pick up a handheld mirror. He broke it against the wall then bent to pick up a long, jagged shard. I looked back to Grey. She was still chanting, nodding in approval as he walked slowly back to the bed.

“No,” I screamed, but no one seemed to notice. Was he hearing Grey or was she doing something else to him to get him to do her will, influencing him somehow?

I had to stop him. And I had to stop Grey—without killing her. I closed my eyes and pictured the black sweater and jeans she was wearing. Then I pictured them on fire.

I didn’t open my eyes until I heard her screams then I turned my attention to the boy. With Grey distracted with the flames, the wind died down and I slid to the floor. I sat back on my haunches and watched Nathan as he lofted the piece of mirror over his head, aiming roughly for the girl’s face and neck. And I pictured his hands on fire.

Suddenly, they burst into flame. He shook his fingers and jumped back as if he’d touched something hot. But there was no escaping the fire that was consuming his flesh. Not unless I willed it.

As he hopped around the room, squalling, shaking and swatting his hands in the air, I hurried to the bed. I put my hands on the girl’s shoulders and urged her into a sitting position. I grabbed her legs behind the knees and turned her around until her feet dangled off the edge of the bed.

Grabbing her hands, I pulled her off the bed and hurried her to a door on my side of the room. I opened it up. It was a closet, nearly empty, so I shoved her inside. I closed the door behind me and turned my attention back to the two people on fire.

The flames were working their way up Nathan’s arms. He was on the floor writhing in pain. In my mind, I doused the flames and they dwindled to nothing, leaving only charred and melted skin in their wake.

Grey was not in as bad a shape. She had walked to the window and let the rain blow in on her, effectively extinguishing most of her flames. Her eyes were on me. And they were murderous.