Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

XXII - Swarth

 

“Hold on tight!” Vincent growled. “We’ve wasted enough time.”

Hesitantly, I wrapped an arm around the back of his waist before we entered the Spirit Door that would supposedly transport us in an instant to Fountain Springs where Carter lived. As soon as we were inside, the door swung shut, creaking eerily until Vincent and I were completely engulfed in darkness.

I felt him wrap an arm around my nape before whispering “Hold your breath,” but it was too late. The floor under our feet suddenly collapsed like a trapdoor. I screamed my heart out as we plummeted freely into nothingness. My insides almost flipped and it took a lot of effort to hold down my lunch.

About ten seconds later, we were still falling.

I hang on tightly to Vincent.

Casually, he squinted at his watch.

The next thing I knew was the soft grass against the soles of my leather boots and the rustling of wind. I would’ve crashed face first onto the ground if Vincent hadn’t caught me.

“Breathe,” he said softly, propping me up, intently waiting for me to recover.

Clasping on my throat, I took a few lungfuls of air and blinked the yellow spots that danced around my eyes.

“Are we here?”

The world spun around me like a giant kaleidoscope.

No wraiths.

Awesome.

With a nod, he started toward the front porch and looked into the window.

The two-story house was mostly made of wood painted in white with clay tiled roof that was almost camouflaged by the thick barren branches of several trees lining the yard. From the neutral-themed living room, bright light passed through the window, seemingly inviting.

“What now? Aren’t we going in?” I mumbled, gritting my teeth to prevent them from rattling.

“No,” Vincent kept peering into the window. “Reapers are forbidden to enter abodes without summons from an expiring soul.”

“In English?”

“We can’t come in because no one’s about to die in there,” he whispered. “We need a Living to formally invite us in if we’re to turn the place upside down.”

“I thought that rule is for vampires?”

A smirk formed on Vincent’s lips. “What are you? Three? Vampires don’t exist.”

I faked a silent chuckle. “Right… And five days ago, Reapers and souls and wraiths don’t exist to me. But now, they do so I’m trying to keep an open mind.”

Beside me, Vincent just let out a buoyant laughter that made my stomach cringe a little. I hushed him for the fear that Carter’s parents would hear us.

“You’re wearing Nysmic,” he began, eyeing me from head to toe before giving a slight nod that said unremarkable but all right. “Mortals can’t hear or see us.”

Suddenly, I remembered that night right before I died when I saw Vincent standing in front of my dad’s doorstep, wondering if he knew that I would die on that day or if he deliberately didn’t wear Nysmic so I could see him.

Vincent sighed, fixing his metallic gaze at me. “Yes and no,” he said as if answering my unspoken questions.

When I answered with a bewildered look, he pointed at the tiny diamond stud earring piercing through his right earlobe, identical to the one he ordered me to wear.