Reaper Academy: Semester One Page 2

  I’ve been able to see ghosts since I was twelve years old, and Dad always believed me. Demons, however…I think he’d tell me exactly what I’m thinking. I’m nineteen now, and if I haven’t run across a demon in a whole decade, chances are they don’t exist. At least not on this plane, anyway. Maybe this portent just wasn’t meant to be taken literally.

  An hour passes, then another, as I steadily work through my homework assignments. To my relief, my drawings behave themselves, and before I know it, I’m nearly done. I’m just finishing up the last question on my statistics homework when lightning flashes outside my window, and the power abruptly shuts off.

  “Dammit.” I grab my phone and turn on the flashlight. The little light is enough to illuminate the paper, and I quickly jot down the rest of the answer, then rise from my chair. I open the door and peer down the hall, seeing the lights are out. The power must be out in the whole building.

  “Cass,” I call to the empty room as I put my books away and prepare to settle down for the night. I know she’s not here, but I’m positive my voice carries through the ether somehow, as she often comes when I call her. “Can you come back, please? I’m about to head to bed.”

  There’s no answer, and Cass doesn’t materialize. I want to shrug it off and go brush my teeth—as a ghost, the storm can’t hurt her, so there’s no need to worry. But the foreboding feeling from earlier this afternoon is back, an itch between my shoulders I can’t scratch. My stomach starts to grow leaden again, and I know that if I go to bed like this, I’ll toss and turn all night, unable to sleep.

  “Fine,” I grumble to myself as I shrug a raincoat on over my pajamas. It’s dark outside and the streets are empty—there’s no need to change into real clothes. I shove my fuzzy socks into a pair of rainboots, grab my taser, then head downstairs.

  The moment I step outside, another bolt of lightning arcs across the sky. Thunder crashes overhead as I hurry up the street, clutching my weapon inside my pocket as the rain pelts my face. Why does Cass have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t she just pop back home for a second to reassure me she was all right?

  I make it to the end of the first block when I hear something that stops me in my tracks—a blood-curdling scream. The scream is followed by a loud roar that freezes my blood, and my galoshes root themselves to the spot, refusing to carry me any further.

  Turn back, a voice whispers in my head. Turn back now, before it’s too late!

  Another scream pierces the air, and this time I recognize the voice—Cassandra. The sound galvanizes me into action, and I race through the sheets of pouring rain, heading for the source. What’s happening? I think frantically. What could possibly be going on out there that would scare a ghost?

  Another bolt of lightning lights up the sky as I make it to the third block, illuminating the scene before me with stark clarity. Cassandra is backed against the front of the shop, her body frozen, mouth open in a silent scream. My world slides out from beneath my feet as I see what she’s staring at—a twenty-foot-tall monster with a skull head, curling ram’s horns, a bulging, muscular body, and furry legs that bend backwards into cloven hooves. The two vertical red stripes that slash across its bone-white face seal the deal for me. This is the creature I’ve been sketching.

  The demon.

  The creature takes a step forward, pulling his arm back as if he’s preparing to strike. I grab my taser and begin to run forward, hoping the electrical current will have some effect on it. I don’t know how, but I know it in my soul that this thing has the power to hurt Cassandra. It doesn’t matter that she’s already dead—I can’t stand by and do nothing.

  But before I can test out my taser, a dark figure leaps from the top of the building. The demon and I both turn our heads to the sky to watch as it comes down, swinging a long, curved blade through the air—was that a scythe? The blade connects with the demon’s shoulder, slicing diagonally. It makes it nearly halfway through the demon’s chest before the demon grabs the figure. The figure screams as the demon squeezes him in his fist, hard enough to pulverize every bone in his body, before sending him flying in my direction.

  I cry out as the dark figure slams into the ground, skidding to the asphalt right by my feet. Looking down, I see that he’s a young man, probably around my age, wearing a black cloak. His hair is plastered to his head by the rain, his eyes squeezed shut in agony. Beneath the cloak he’s got on a red vest over a white button-up shirt and a red-and-white striped tie, paired with black pants and shoes. Something about it reminds me of a prep school uniform…but this guy is too old to be in prep school. Who the hell is he?

  I don’t have time to figure that out, though. Ahead, the demon roars in pain as it pulls the scythe out and tosses it away. It clatters to the ground a few feet from Cass, who makes no move to take it. She’s still frozen with terror…and maybe something else, I wonder as I take a closer look. Is it a trick of the light, or does she seem more transparent than usual?

  “Cass!” I scream as I step over the guy’s body, trying to get her attention. There’s no way this good Samaritan survived such a crushing blow—his ghost will pop up any second now if he hasn’t gone to the afterlife already. “Cass, you need to run!”

  The demon swivels its head toward me with sudden interest, sending another wash of fear over me. At the same time, a cold hand clamps around my ankle. “You—” a voice croaks, and I look down to see the man staring up at me, his face contorted with pain. His eyes, a striking ocean blue, are wide with astonishment. “You can see me?”

  “Of course I can see you,” I snap. Why wouldn’t I be able to?

  “You need to run!” he shouts, struggling to push himself up. The rain has plastered his shirt to his skin, allowing me to see his bulging muscles as they strain with effort. It might have been hot if the situation hadn’t been so dire.

  “Not a chance.” I rip my gaze away and turn back to Cass. “I have to save my friend.”

  “S-she’s caught”—the man coughs painfully—“in the demon’s snare. Nothing you can do. Save—yourself—”

  But the demon has taken a step toward me, its red eyes firmly fixed on me. “Too late for that,” I growl, making a split-second decision. Whatever power the demon seems to have over Cass doesn’t affect me, so I wait until it gets close enough, then dart between its enormous legs and go for the weapon lying on the sidewalk.

  “Run away!” the man bellows over the pounding rain. “There’s no use—you can’t—”

  Ignoring him, I grab the scythe’s handle. The moment my hand makes contact with it, a golden light erupts from it, searing my eyes. Cassandra gasps—the first sound she’s made since being pinned in place by the demon—but I hardly register the sound as energy floods my body. I’ve never been much of a fighter, but suddenly I feel powerful, invincible, as if I can take on ten linebackers at once and win—

  “Addy!” Cassandra cries. “Look at the scythe in your hand!”

  I look—and my jaw drops. The blade has quadrupled in size, and is now the length and breadth of my entire body. It should be impossible to hold upright, much less swing, but for some reason the weapon doesn’t feel heavy at all. I give it an experimental swing, and it makes a whistling sound through the air as it cuts through the rain.

  “This is impossible,” the man on the ground croaks, and somehow I hear him over the rain and thunder. I turn to see him propped up on his elbow, staring at me with a look of disbelief—which he shouldn’t be able to do. How in the human realm does he have the strength to sit up, much less talk? “You shouldn’t be able to—what are you?”

  The demon, realizing its prey has escaped, turns on its hoof to face me. It lets out a bellow of rage as it charges me, but I dart out of the way, evading it easily. Cassandra, finally free of the demon’s hold, disappears just as the demon crashes into the storefront.

  “Go for the head!” the man on the ground screams as the demon struggles to free itself. “You have to sever the head from the body!”

/>   “Right,” I mutter as the demon pulls itself from the wreckage of the café. My palms grow sweaty against the scythe’s handle as the demon turns to face me once more, looking completely unscathed. You’d think there’d be a crack in its skull or something, but aside from the deep gouge in its torso, it looks unharmed.

  I guess that means the scythe is the only thing that can hurt it.

  The demon charges me again, but this time, I don’t run away. Following some instinct, I run toward it, then push off the ground and launch myself into the air. The laws of physics tell me that I should only be able to jump a few feet off the ground, but the power humming through my body tells me a different story as I rocket toward the demon’s head. I pull the scythe back like a baseball bat and swing it around, and the scythe slides through its massive neck as smooth as butter.

  For a moment, I’m suspended in the air, the demon’s gaze wide with shock. Then its head slides off its shoulders, and we both plummet to the ground with a crash.

  “Addy!” Cass rushes over to me as I lie face up, staring at the dark sky. She drops to the ground and leans over me, peering into my eyes. “Addy, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” I smile and clasp her hand. For some reason it feels warm, nothing like the usual icy sensation I get from touching ghosts. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

  “Right.” She pulls me to my feet, glancing nervously at the man on the ground, who seems to have fallen unconscious again. “Now let’s get you back into your body before—”

  “Wait, what?” I dig my heels in, forcing us both to a halt. “What do you mean, my body?”

  Cassandra jabs a finger toward a figure lying on the sidewalk. “That scythe is a spiritual object,” she explains. “When you touched it, it forced your spirit out of your body, which is all well and good, but now you need to get back into it—”

  “No, she doesn’t.”

  We both whirl around as the man gets to his feet. He still looks battered and unsteady, but much better than earlier, which seems crazy considering the amount of damage he’s taken. His ocean-blue eyes blaze with determination as he locks gazes with me. “You’re a reaper.”

  “A what now?” I say, nonplussed.

  “A reaper.” He gestures to himself, to the scythe he holds in his hand. He must have picked it up when I dropped it. “Soldiers of the angel of death. We help spirits—”

  “Addy,” Cassandra says in a hurried voice, tugging on my sleeve. “Get back in your body, now.”

  “—cross over to the afterlife, and kill demons like the one you killed tonight. No one else can kill a demon except for a reaper. No one.”

  I fold my arms across my chest, annoyed at his know-it-all tone. “Well I killed one,” I say, perhaps a little more snidely than I should have, “and I’m not a reaper.”

  “Again,” the man says, sounding exasperated now, “you have to be a reaper. I don’t know how you ended up in the human realm in a human body, but you can’t stay here. You have to come to the afterlife with me—I mean, to the academy,” he says hastily as a look of horror comes over my face.

  He begins to advance on me, and I take a step backward, my sense of self-preservation finally kicking in now that my friend’s soul isn’t in danger. “The afterlife?” I say nervously as Cass begins tugging me toward my body. “Er, isn’t that where people go when they’re dead?”

  “Yes,” the man says impatiently, “but you’re a reaper, so—”

  “She’s not a reaper,” Cass says furiously, letting go of me so she can chew the man out. “She’s a human girl, a college student with her whole life ahead of her, and I am not letting you take that away from her!”

  The man glowers at her. “It doesn’t matter what she wants—she has to go.” He raises his hand, and a blue glow fills his palm, taking the shape of a rune. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but if you won’t come willingly—”

  He lunges at me, grasping for my forearm, but before he can make contact, Cass jumps in front of me. “No!” he yells as his hand closes around her shoulder. I throw an arm over my face as a flash of light envelops them, then lower it once it fades away. My heart plummets as I stare at the empty space in front of me.

  They’re gone. Both of them.

  2

  “All right, class,” my history professor says as the bell rings, signaling the end to my last class of the day. “Your homework is in the back of Chapter 29, Page 304-312. We’ll be having a test on the material on Monday, so make sure to study hard over the weekend!”

  I raise my head blearily from the desk as the rest of the students hustle to pack up their bookbags. The usual Friday afternoon excitement buzzes in the air, but I can’t bring myself to get swept up in it. Ever since Cassandra disappeared with that strange man four nights ago, I’ve sunk into a depressed funk I can’t seem to claw my way out of. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got any fun plans. I’m working until close at the shop tonight, and I am so not looking forward to it.

  Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I force myself out of my chair and sling my messenger bag over my shoulder so I can head out. The sun is shining as I walk outside, the sky a blue so gorgeous it’s insulting. How can the day be so bright and wonderful when my best friend is dead and gone?

  Yeah, okay, so she was already dead when I met her. But she was still with me all the time, still my cheerleader and confidante. With both of my parents dead as well, and no living friends to speak of, there is no one else to fall back on, no one else to hold me and support me through my grief.

  After Cassandra and the reaper guy had disappeared, it had taken me a while to figure out how to get back into my body. The demon had dissipated at some point, and aside from the damage it had done to the buildings, it was like it was never there. By the time I’d figured out how to get back into my body, the cops had arrived, and I’d been tied up for hours dealing with them before I was finally allowed to go back to my apartment. I’d called in sick and visited all our usual haunts, looking for Cass, then sat in my apartment all day, waiting for her to pop back in, to scold me for skipping class or not eating enough, to critique my sketches and tell each other about our day.

  It took me two days to accept that she was really gone. And that she wasn’t coming back.

  I drop by my apartment to drop off my bags, then head to the bodega on the corner for my shift. Mrs. Garcia is fussing with a magazine display, wearing a black glittering sequin dress that falls mid-calf. Her graying hair has been curled, and she’s wearing dark red lipstick.

  “Mija!” She spins on her heel when she realizes I’m there, her lined face lighting up with relief. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here. He’s picking me up in twenty minutes and I forgot to feed the kittens!”

  “Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Garcia.” I smile as I take the keys from her, then go behind the counter so I can hand my boss her purse. “Go have fun.”

  She kisses my cheek, then rushes out the door, her heels clicking behind her. Normally I get Friday nights off, but Mrs. Garcia has a date tonight—her first in ten years, since her husband died of a heart attack. Her granddaughter had introduced them, had begged her to go, and I’d stepped in and offered to take the shift before she could back out. The woman hasn’t taken a proper day off in the three years I’ve known her—it’s high time she has a little fun.

  The knowledge that I’m doing something good for someone makes me feel a little better, taking the edge off my loss. I’m also kept fairly busy by the steady stream of patrons coming in to buy beer and munchies, so I don’t have too much time to think about it. The traffic finally begins to thin out around midnight, and I yawn, leaning against the counter as I stare at the clock. It will be time to close up soon.

  Now that the shop is empty, I flit around the bodega and tidy up, sweeping the floors and rearranging the displays. I’m just about to start closing out the till when a chill rushes down my spine, making my skin tingle. Suddenly, I’m aware that the street outside is dea
thly quiet. There are no cars driving by, no talk or laughter, not even the sigh of the wind.

  Thump.

  My entire body freezes as the floor reverberates beneath my feet. What the hell was that? Chicago is tornado country—we don’t get earthquakes here.

  Thump. The sound is closer now. Thump. Almost like footsteps, but they would have to be massive—

  THUMP.

  That last one is right outside the door of the bodega. Heart hammering in my throat, I glance toward the window, and my mouth goes dry at the sight of a thick, furry leg. I know that if I press my face to the glass and follow the line down, I’ll see a cloven hoof at the bottom.

  But I’m not going to stick around to wait.

  I spin around and dash for the back alley exit, stopping only to grab the shotgun beneath the counter. Glass shatters behind me as I run, and I glance back to see the demon’s arm flailing through the shop window, grasping at the place I’d been just seconds ago. I burst through the back door and sprint down the alley, in the opposite direction of the bodega, but before I can make it to the street, another demon appears. This one’s horns are curled into twisting shapes, and it has four red slashes across its face rather that two.

  “Human,” it groans, teeth clacking together. It opens its mouth, tasting the air with a long, forked tongue. “Your spiritual energy…the finest I’ve ever tasted. Come, come to me…”

  It beckons me forward with a clawed hand, clearly expecting me to come hither. But whatever compulsion it wields has no effect on me, and I back away, lifting the shotgun. Remembering the reaper’s advice, I aim for the head and then fire, but the spray of buckshot passes right through his body, leaving him unharmed.

  “Human weapons won’t work on it, Miss Blake. You need a reaper’s scythe.”