Page 18 of The Reveal
I sleep, but it’s not better. That dark bitch is waiting for me, her breath full of decay.
You will submit to me too,she tells me.It’s what you’re made for.
When I wake up in the morning, my throat feels raw, as if I was screaming. My skull feels like it might split open. I think I hear a telltale shuffling out in the woods. But if the zombies are circling when I heave myself out of bed, they don’t come near enough for me to see them, much less shoot them.
Maybe what Maddox told me is true. Maybe her being here offers protection after all.
The house is quiet all around me as I pad down the stairs, though I pause briefly when I reach the windows in the front room. I can hear a faint sound of chanting out in the yard. My first thought is it’s something evil, coming to try out some vile spells—but then I see the light from Savi’s windows. Meditation, I think then, because she has that overly yoga-ed look. Two things I should probably look into, but that sounds like the sort of stuff people do when they’re concerned about their longevity.
That’s not an issue of mine.
I go through the usual routine with Gran’s and my coffee, and even let her tell me a little too much about her cards, until I remind her that we both need to eat our breakfast.
I don’t like to stop her from talking about the things that interest her, but I’ve always had an aversion to those damned cards. There was never any telling her that when she was fully herself. Now that she’s not, why would I be so cruel?
I head for the kitchen to make us some food but stop short in the front hall.
There’s a piece of paper wedged beneath the flap of metal that covers the peephole. I drift closer, my adrenaline already sounding the alarm. Gingerly, I shift the peephole to one side, and whatever it is falls away. I can hear it flutter to the ground outside.
I wait there a moment, counting.One, one thousand. Two, one thousand.
Only then do I take the risk of putting my eye to the peephole, a quick look first to make sure nothing is standingright there. Then, when I see only the porch with nothing scary looming, I take a second, longer look.
When I’m reasonably sure that no one’s lurking about, I ease open the heavy inner door and frown down at the folded piece of paper that someone stuck on it. Deliberately.
I nudge it with my foot, but nothing blows up, turns into a snake, or does any of the other horrible things that I can imagine only too well.
I bend down to pick it up, but I don’t look at it. I look around instead, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Anything that might indicate someone is watching me pick this up, which will be a good indication that I shouldn’t.
But there’s nothing.
Just the usual sound of morning birds in the trees, that chanting that sometimes sounds like a song, and a little bit of clear daylight because it’s early morning and the smoke hasn’t settled in yet.
Back inside the house, I lock everything up and then unfold the paper, though I quickly realize it isn’t paper. It’s heavy card stock.
I have a message for you,the card reads, written out in a bold, thick hand.Please come to Archangel MMA at sunset.
And below that is a signature.Ariel Skinner.
A lot of things press into my head at once, making the headache I thought I’d gotten rid of threaten again, because everything I’m thinking is nuts. I know what Archangel MMA is. It’s the old mixed martial arts school that’s been there as long as anyone can remember, down where Main Street meets the river, where every kid I know took at least one martial arts class over the years. It was called Spartan Arts when I was a kid. It was a karate school before then.
As for Ariel Skinner ... I know that name too.
Everybody knows that name. I’ve never seen him in person, which is likely part of why I’m still alive, because Ariel Skinner is the king of the vampires.
Apparently of all the vampires, or so I’ve heard, but particularly the ones in this valley. Samuel has actually met him and claims that it was his negotiation tactics that brought the likes of Ty Ceridwen and Ariel Skinner to the table and got them to agree to let us humans live in relative peace in Jacksonville.
I can’t think of a single reason why the king of the fucking vampires would be sending me card-stock messages through my doorway.
I toss it aside when I get into the kitchen and set about making myself more coffee. Even more bitter than usual.
I’m not hungry, but I make Gran her eggs and toast and sit with her for a while, and when I come back into the kitchen with her dishes, Maddox is coming in the back door. We smile at each other, but as she crosses the threshold, she stops dead.
Like she’s slammed straight into a wall.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her, my gaze racing around the room. I press my back against the locked metal door behind me.
Then I look at Maddox and watch her eyes go gold.
