Blood of the Devil

Chapter 5 - A Grave Yard

The sound of laughter woke Letha, and she blinked furiously, raising a hand to block the sunset. A blue curl caught her eye.

“I am really getting tired of opening my eyes to find you standing over me.”

Mickey stopped laughing, still smiling though, “I’ve only done it twice.”

Dragging her hair out of her face, Letha glared at him, “Try it a third time and see what happens.”

“Oh, gosh,” Mickey said, eyes comically wide, “Will you pulverise me like that other poor person from your last school?”

Letha smiled viciously, yanking on her gloves. The material clutched the flesh of her palms and she hid a wince.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” he continued, “What possible…”

Letha raised a hand, interrupting him, “you’ve been ‘meaning to’? What? During one of our many interesting and lengthy chats?”

“Maybe we should try a third and see what happens?”

Shaking her head, Letha scrambled to her feet, walking away from the boy. Smiling brightly, Mickey chased after her, holding out his hand. He poked her in the shoulder with the books in his grasp, but his expression faded when she gasped.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” Letha said curtly, pressing a hand to her shoulder. It didn’t help her arm and just made her hand hurt, so she stopped.

Mickey raised an eyebrow, “Then what’s wrong with your shoulder?”

Ignoring him and desperate for a change of subject, Letha looked at the books, “What’s that?”

“These,” he said, reluctantly dragging his attention to his hand, “are your books.”

“I distinctly remember throwing them in the bin.”

Mickey smiled again, showing blindingly white teeth, “And were you the angel on my shoulder, you’d also distinctly remember me getting them out again, and now returning them to you.”

“I’d be the other shoulder,” Letha commented, turning away.

Rolling his eyes, Mickey caught her wrist. Her head jerked to face him, eyes narrowed. She wrenched her arm free, swinging her other hand at his face. He stepped back, his lips parted in surprise, and Letha took a deep breath, calming her racing heart. Her hand hadn’t connected.

“Sorry,” Letha said tersely, “I don’t like to be touched.”

“Noted.” Mickey offered the books, keeping himself at arms-length.

Grudgingly, Letha accepted the books, resting them on a headstone. Mickey’s surprised expression switched to the books.

“Should you do that?”

Letha shrugged, “Nobody has ever complained.”

“Oh,” Mickey nodded, following her as she walked off, “So you know the family?”

“Something like that.” She span, glaring at him again, “Can I help you with something?”

“Yes actually. First question; were you sleeping in a cemetery when I came across you? Propped up by a grave no less?”

“Nobody has ever complained about that either.”

Mickey smiled, “So you come here a lot?”

Letha ground her teeth, walking off again, “I guess.”

“Ok, so you could help my family find a grave we’re looking for?”