Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

XXXX - Halo

When I heard the familiar hum of engines from the driveway, I shoved my own Memory Tome inside my sling bag and hurried to my window. I had spent the last few hours recording my first entry on it, beginning from the day we moved to Ashland, up to this moment.

The Land Cruiser's driver's seat window rolled down and from the second floor, I could see Archie. After a quick unsuccessful attempt to flatten my damp hair in front of the mirror, I shrugged my jacket on and snatched the duffel bag sitting at the side of my door. I didn't really need lots of clothes to carry with me where I was going, but I would like Dad to believe that I was overenthusiastic about my first trip to Paris.

"I haven't seen Vincent for a while now," Dad said to Archie as they came in.

Archie's pitch black eyes furtively trailed on me as he replied, "He's been a little busy lately, Marcel. This trip is his idea after all, so I let him arrange everything for us."

"Impressive. Responsible for his age." Dad let out a soft chuckle. "I was starting to think he's having a hard time with my Aramis."

You have no idea. I thought bitterly, purposively clearing my throat as I reached the foot of the stairs to make them aware of my presence.

"I'm going," I said to Dad, reluctantly giving him a hug. When we let go of each other, I plastered a big smile on my face and said, "There's food in the fridge. Just reheat them in the microwave. And Dad, please remember to throw the leftovers away before they start to smell. Read the expiration on the can before you eat anything. Don't put your colored shirts in the washer with the whites. Hang—"

"You sound like you're not coming back," Dad laughed, knotting his brows a bit before pushing my bangs from my eyes. "I'll be fine. You take care, okay? Or else, your mom's probably going rise up from her grave to nag at me."

Morbid, but it actually made me smile. "I'd like to see that," I replied, heading for the door without any promise to call him.

Before getting in the Cruiser, I took a last look at Mom's old house—the Christmas wreath on the door, the twinkling lights Dad thoughtfully set-up—and at Marcel Rayne, taking him in and burning that moment in my memory. He was smiling as I waved at him, oblivious that it might be the last time he would see his only daughter.

Snow started to fall as we reached the road, decorations along the neighborhood screaming Christmas. Archie didn't try to make small talk and that was one thing I liked about him. Once we reached the mansion, the double doors opened, spewing Mei and Amyr who immediately helped me with my luggage. They towed me into the living room, their eyes sweeping on our surroundings as they did. Inside, Rosario waited for us, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

"I thought you'd be dead by now," she muttered nonchalantly eyeing at me. "I'm a little bit disappointed."

"So am I," I chided. "Want to do the honors?"

"What honor? Killing you?" Rosario leered, leaning on the arms of the couch as she rose ever so carefully. Her face twitched a bit as if in pain but she expertly hid it with a vicious smile. "Don't flatter yourself, Aramis."

"No one's killing anybody." Vincent emerged from the stairwell, glowering at the window.

Behind him came Vladimir, suited in gray and white Nysmic, his usually unruly wavy dark hair combed and plastered on the back of his head. A crimson band with elaborate golden embroidery of Roman numeral twelve was secured snugly around his left upper arm. The boy was flanked by Byron Flynn in a golden collar that chinked as he padded down the steps.