Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

XIII - Familiar

13—Familiar

I woke up to the sound of a doorknob being twisted.

Hushed voices were coming from behind the carved wooden door.

I looked around, surprised to see myself lying in a four-poster bed in the middle of a big room. Little slivers of sunlight passed through the brick-red tapestries draping the tall windows. The dark wooden walls were empty except for a painting of a meadow with red flowers, a hazy red sky and red petals flitting everywhere. It looked strikingly similar to the paradise I had seen on the other side of the door of light that night I drowned.

Vincent sat in a bronze-framed cushioned chair at my bedside. He was fast asleep, his features gentle, innocent, almost angelic as he breathed regularly through his slightly open mouth.

Surprisingly, I found his hand holding mine. When I tried to discreetly pry his fingers one by one off my wrist, he just grunted and tightened his grip.

"Vincent," I whispered, gently poking a finger on his cheek like I would with a rat to check if it's dead.

"Hmm..." he sighed, then went right back to sleep.

Impulsively, I touched his closed eyes, pulled up one of his lids and leaned closer to him so I could see it closer. "Hey, are you there?"

He stirred abruptly, his metallic eyes widening in surprise before scrambling away from me. As he did, his chair tilted backwards and toppled down. Accidentally, he pulled me with him as he fell on his back, his head landing onto the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

I tumbled over him. My face bumped onto his neck. My shoulder ached a little as it slammed hard on his chest, but it wasn't as painful as it was last night.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he grumbled, wincing as his free hand shot up to the spot where his head hit the floor. "And get your hefty butt off me, will you?"

Few locks of my hair fell on his face as I lifted my head over him. His eyes narrowed when our gazes locked.

"The hand please," I said, reminding him that he was still holding my wrist.

Carefully, he let go of me one finger after the other. With the gap of his brows furrowing infinitesimally, he stared at his hand with a look on his face that said "Now why did I just do that?"

"Well, well..." a gruff male voice came from the door. I immediately recognized him as the middle-eastern man I saw with silver-eyed boy in front of Mrs. Thomas' house. "Don't you think it's too early for that?" he snickered, folding a pair of big arms across his wide chest.

"What?" I blurted out curiously, not having a clue what he was talking about.

The man was around six feet and well-built, with brown skin and shortly-cropped dark hair. He wore a black suit now just like when I first saw him.

"Is she awake?" another voice asked, this time from a girl.

The door opened again, then a girl with long raven hair and feline eyes enter the room. As she saw me and Vincent on the floor, she clasped a hand over her lips, gasping in surprise. I remembered Carter telling me that her name was Zhu Xi Mei—Vladimir's girlfriend.

"Oh my," she murmured with a gentle voice.

"I know, right?" the Arab said, nudging the girl lightly. His grin widened, his big brown eyes shifting meaningfully to my face then to Vincent who was lying on the floor under me.

That didn't look right.

Realizing how awkward our position was, I scrambled off Vincent, crawling on all fours in a frantic attempt to untangle myself from his limbs without much success. I felt my cheeks burn, but I tried my best to not show any sign of it.