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The Reckoning (Darkest Powers 3)

Page 37

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“Open that door,” Royce said.

“Why? So you can bring out some toys? I don’t think so. ”

Simon snorted another laugh.

A broom flew from the wall, coming straight at me like a javelin. An unwieldy javelin, I might add. I easily ducked out of the way, and Derek just as easily caught it in midflight.

“Good reflexes, big guy,” the ghost said.

He strolled over to a bunch of plastic bins stacked against the wall and flipped open the top one.

“Oh, look, Uncle Todd kept my old stuff. He’s so sweet, packing my things away after he murdered me. ”

“M-murdered you?” I said in spite of myself.

He rummaged through the box.

“Get ready to send him back,” Derek whispered, then to Simon, “Go upstairs. ”

Simon shook his head. “I-”

Royce spun like a shot-putter, whipping something at us. I dove out of the way. Derek caught it-a bowling ball-then snarled at Simon, “Upstairs!”

“Oooh, good reflexes, superhuman strength, and a very convincing snarl. I think we have ourselves a werewolf. ” He got right in Derek’s face. “How about a little one-on-one, wolf-boy? Battle of the superpowers?”

I shut my eyes and pictured Royce sailing backward. But he just kept taunting Derek.

“Maybe we should all go upstairs,” Simon said. “Get away from this creep. ”

“He’d follow us,” Derek said.

“Oh, don’t listen to him,” Royce said. “Sure. Go on upstairs. There are lots of fun things to play with up there. Razors. Scissors. Knives. ” He smiled and whispered in m

y ear. “I really like knives. There’s so much you can do with them. ”

I glanced at Derek. He looked anxious, shooting glances from me to Simon, like he couldn’t decide between letting me finish banishing Royce and getting us out before we were hurt.

“I’m trying,” I said. “I’m really-”

“I know. Take your time. ” He shot an arrogant look of his own in the ghost’s direction. “He’s not dangerous. Unless you can talk someone to death. ”

The ghost spun and whipped a barbell. It came at us, but awkwardly, like he’d fumbled the shot. Derek moved mockingly slow and caught it before it crashed to the floor. I continued banishing Royce.

Royce started rooting around the box again. “Where’s that other dumbbell?…Oh, that’s right. I used it already. ” He got in Derek’s face again. “To bash my brother’s brains in while he slept. Do you sleep, wolf-boy?”

My brain stuttered, flashing images of Austin ’s body, the blood, blood everywhere…

“Chloe?” Derek said.

“I-I’ve got it. ”

“She doesn’t have anything,” Royce said. “She pulled me through and I’m not going back. ”

“Simon?” Derek whispered. “Upstairs. Now. ”

I had to stay here to banish Royce and Derek had to stay to protect me, but Simon was a bystander, one Royce would eventually target.

Simon left. I heard him stop on the stairs, unwilling to go too far in case we needed him.

A crash. My eyes flew open to see Derek on his feet, Royce picking up a piece of a smashed plate from the concrete floor.

“Oh, look,” Royce said, running his finger along the broken edge. “Sharp. I like sharp. ”

Derek moved in front of me. I stared at his back and emptied my mind of everything except the image of Royce, sailing backward through the dimensions, through any dimensions. I concentrated until my temples throbbed. Still nothing.

You can’t do it. Stop trying and get someplace safe.

But there was no safe place. Not from this ghost. I had to get rid of him.

“How much do you know about werewolves?” Royce was saying, pacing as he turned the shard over in his hands. “We grew up on that crap, Austin and me. All part of our cultural training, my uncle said. ”

“What’s he saying?” Derek asked.

“I’m trying not to listen. ”

“Go ahead,” Derek said. “Tell me. ”

Royce lunged at Derek, swinging the shard like a blade. Derek sidestepped out of the way, then kept going, circling wide around Royce, luring him away from me, motioning for me to resume banishing.

Royce charged. The china shard came a little too close to Derek, giving my mental shove a little panicky oomph, and Royce’s half-materialized form wavered.

Again, Royce swung too hard. This time the shard sailed from his hand. He scrabbled after it. Derek got there first, stomping the piece under his sneaker.

Royce raced for the rest of the plate. Derek managed to step on the biggest piece, but Royce snatched up another. I gave him another big push. Again he wobbled.

Royce walked backward, eyeing Derek. Derek’s gaze stayed glued to the new shard-tracking Royce.

“You like science, don’t you?” Royce said. “Well, I’m going to try an experiment of my own. Like I was asking before, how much do you know about werewolf legends?”

Again, I repeated his words. Derek still said nothing, only backing up, keeping Royce’s focus on him, letting me work at banishing the ghost.

“I don’t remember many of them,” Royce went on. “It was pretty boring stuff, at least the ones Uncle Todd told us. But he had others-books he didn’t want us to read. There was this one about werewolf trials. Seemed every medieval serial killer tried to get off with the werewolf defense. There was this one cool story about a guy who told the court he was a werewolf. Only problem was, they’d seen him kill someone-and he looked human. So do you know what he said?”

Derek motioned for me to relay the message. I did, as best I could.

“He said, my fur is on the inside,” Derek replied.

Royce laughed. “Guess I’m not the only one who likes the gory old stories. All right then, tell the little necro how it ends. What did the court do?”

I hesitated to relay the question, but Derek insisted on getting the message, then said, “Cut off his arms and legs and dissected them to check for fur inside the skin. ”

Royce looked at me. “Sadly, there wasn’t any. But they’d saved themselves the fuss and bother of a trial. ”

He wheeled and ran at Derek. Derek’s hands flew up to shield himself. The shard sliced the back of his hand, blood spurting.

Royce danced back. “I don’t see any fur, do you? Guess we’ll just have to keep going, to conduct a thorough experiment. ”

I saw the blood dripping down Derek’s hand, shut my eyes, and gave one rage-filled shove. The shard clattered to the floor. Royce was still there, faint though, teeth gritted, tendons popping, struggling to hold on.

I walked toward him, mentally pushing, watching him fade until he was only a glimmer, and then-

“What have you done?” roared a voice behind me.

Twenty-seven

I SPUN, EXPECTING TO see Andrew, but no one was there.

A ghost popped out in front of me, so close I fell back.

Derek grabbed my arm to steady me.

“I think he’s gone,” Derek said. “Did you hear something?”



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