REAPING INNOCENCE ◦ STILINSKI [3]

xxii.

"What kind of sacrifice?" Rae asked. "A blood sacrifice, to the Gods?"

"I'm not sure," Atohi said, her face troubled. "That's all I can tell you at this time." She stuck the candle back into its holder.

"Whew," Jolon released a breath as he got up to rebuild the fire. Rae stood, too.

She was in a strange mood tonight, after spending the day alone in her recently deceased brother's room. "Atohi, before I go, would you look into my palm? I want you to tell me my future, my personal future."

"All right, I'll try," Atohi relented. "There'd just better be no more dark forces on the way, that's all. You've already got all you can handle." She said as she took Rae's outstretched hand. "Don't act so surprised. I can hear the pained screams you try to muffle—the cries from wounds that aren't your own."

Rae swallowed thickly. "Just...read my palm, will you?"

"Fine, this is your life-line—" Atohi's stream of patter broke off almost before it was started. She stared at Rae's hand, fear and apprehension in her face. "It should go all the way down to here," she said. "But it's cut off so short..."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that your life will not be a long one," Atohi murmured. She let go of Rae's hand and Rae slowly drew back. "You will die young and healthy." She continued, leaning forward to look deep into her eyes. "I see a darkness in you, Rae Echo Hale. And in that darkness, eyes staring back at me. Brown eyes, blue eyes...eyes you'll shut forever."

→

Dear Dairy...or whatever,

It is now April—I don't know what day, or time, probably afternoon.

It's been almost a month since my car went off Dead Man's Bridge.

Almost a month since I died.

Malakai got me out of the attic I had woken up in. He said he didn't want me going there again. This is Malakai's pen I'm using. I don't own anything anymore. I'm sitting right now in an abandoned building behind the house we're staying in. I can't go where people know my face, you know, because I'm still technically dead. I'm just glad that the animals around me don't know my face or my name.

I'm trying very hard not to have hysterics.

I thought writing might help. Something normal—except that nothing in my life is normal anymore.

Malakai says I'll get used to it faster if I throw my old life away and embrace the new one. He has been itching to get out of Beacon Hills since the moment he pulled my body out of the water. He keeps telling me that it's not safe here anymore, not safe being so close to my friends when the Dread Doctors are lurking around.

But, I hunted a deer last night. A stag, because it was making the most noise, clashing its antlers against tree branches, challenging other males. I snapped its neck and left its body for the other predators. And I know what you're thinking: why didn't I drink its blood? Well, that's because I'm not like Raeven, at least...not yet.

When I look over this journal—the same one I found lying in the attic when I came back to life—all I can see is what I was searching for something, for someplace to belong. But this isn't it. This new life isn't it. I'm afraid of what I'll become if I do start to belong.

Oh, God, I'm frightened.

I could hear an owl hooting above me. It is almost pure white, especially when it spreads it wings so you can see its underbelly. But from the back it looks more gold and it has just a little gold around the face. It's staring at me now because I'm making noise, trying not to cry.