Kelley Armstrong: The Reckoning

I rapped on the door, lightly, not really wanting to wake anyone, but hoping Derek might notice.

“No one’s going to hear you,” the ghost said. “We’re all alone. Just the way I like it.”

I lifted my hand to bang on the door, then stopped. Dad always said the best way to deal with a bully was not to let him know you were frightened. At the thought of my father, my throat tightened. Was he still looking for me? Of course, he was, and there was nothing I could do.

Dad’s advice for bullies had worked with the kids who mocked my stutter-they gave up when they couldn’t get a reaction from me. So I took a deep breath and went on the offensive.

“You said you know about the Edison Group and their experiments,” I said. “Were you a subject?”

“Boring. Let’s talk about you. Got a boyfriend? I bet you do. Cute girl like you, hanging out with two guys. You’ve gotta have hooked up with one of them by now. So which one?” He laughed. “Dumb question. The cute girl would get the cute guy. The chink.”

He meant Simon, who was half Korean. He was baiting me, seeing if I’d leap to Simon’s defense and prove he was my boyfriend. He wasn’t. Well, not yet, though we seemed to be heading that way.

“If you want me to stay and talk, I need some answers first,” I said.

He laughed. “Yeah? Doesn’t look to me like you’re going anywhere.”

I grabbed the doorknob again. A bottle cap pinged off my cheek just below my eye. I glowered in his direction.

“That was only a warning shot, little necro.” A nasty tone edged his voice. “Around here, we play my game by my rules. Now, tell me about your boyfriend.”

“I don’t have one. If you know anything about the Genesis experiment, then you know we aren’t here for a vacation. Being on the run doesn’t leave much time for romance.”

“Don’t get snarky with me.”

I banged on the door. The next bottle cap hit my eye, stinging.

“You’re in danger, little girl. Don’t you care?” His voice lowered to my ear. “Right now, I’m your best friend, so you’d better treat me good. You’ve just been led into a trap and I’m the only one who can get you out.”

“Led? By who? The guy who brought us here-” I thought up a fake name fast. “Charles?”

“No, some total stranger, and Charles just happened to bring you here. What a coincidence.”

“But he said he doesn’t work for the Edison Group anymore. He used to be their doctor-”

“He still is.”

“H-he’s Dr. Fellows? The one they were talking about at the lab?”

“None other.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’d never forget that face.”

“Huh, well, that’s weird. First, his name isn’t Charles. Second, he’s not a doctor. Third, I know Dr. Fellows. She’s my aunt, and that guy downstairs looks nothing like her.”

The blow hit me from behind, striking hard against the back of my knees. My legs buckled and I fell on all fours.

“Don’t toy with me, little necro.”

When I tried to rise, he hit me with an old plank swung like a baseball bat. I tried to twist out of the way, but he got my shoulder and knocked me into the railing. A crack, and the railing gave way. I toppled, and for a second, all I could see was the concrete patio two stories down.

I caught another section of railing. It held and I was steadying myself when the plank swung straight for my hand. I let go and scrambled onto the walkway as the board hit the railing so hard that the top rail snapped and the plank snapped, too, splinters of rotting wood flying.

I ran toward the flat section of roof. He whipped the broken board at me. I stumbled back, bumping into the railing again.

I caught my balance and looked around. No sign of him. No sign of anything moving. But I knew he was there, watching to see what I’d do next.

I ran for the door, then feinted toward the flat part of the roof. A crash. Shards of glass exploded in front of me and the ghost appeared, lifting a broken bottle. I backpedaled.

Sure, that’s a great idea. Just keep backing into the railing, see how long it’ll hold.

I stopped. There was nowhere to run. I considered screaming. I’ve always hated that in movies-heroines who scream for help when cornered-but right now, caught between a broken-bottle-wielding poltergeist and a two-story fall, I could survive the humiliation of being rescued. Problem was, no one would get here in time.

So…what are you going to do? The superpowerful necromancer against the bullying poltergeist?

That was right. I did have a defense, at least against ghosts.

I touched my amulet. It’d been given to me by my mother. She’d said it would ward off the bogeymen I’d seen when I was little-ghosts, as I knew now. It didn’t seem to work that well, but clutching it helped me concentrate, focus on what I was.

I pictured giving the ghost a shove.

“Don’t you dare, little girl. You’ll only piss me off and-”

I squeezed my eyes shut and gave him a huge mental push.

Silence.

I waited, listening, sure that when I opened my eyes, he’d be right there. After a moment, I peeked and saw only the gray sky. Still, I gripped the railing tight, ready for a broken bottle to fly at my head.

“Chloe!”

My knees shook at the shout. Footsteps thudded across the roof. Ghosts don’t make footsteps.

“Don’t move.”

I looked over my shoulder to see Derek.

DEREK MADE HIS WAY across the flat section of the roof. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but his feet were bare.

“Watch out,” I called. “There’s broken glass.”

“I see it. Stay where you are.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just back up and-” The wood creaked under me. “Or maybe not.”

“Just stay there. The wood’s rotting. It’s holding your weight as long as you stand still.”

“But I walked out here, so it must be-”

“We’re not testing that theory, okay?”

There was none of the usual impatient snap in his voice, meaning he was really worried. And if Derek was worried, I’d better stay right where I was. I gripped the railing.

“No!” he said. “I mean, yes, hold on, but don’t put any weight on it. It’s rotted through at the base.”

Great.

Derek looked around, like he was searching for something to use. Then he stripped off his shirt. I tried not to look away. Not that he looked bad without his shirt. The opposite, actually, which is why…Let’s just say friends are really better when they’re fully dressed.

Derek got as close as he dared, then knotted a corner of the T-shirt and tossed it to me. I caught it on the second throw.

“I’m not going to pull you in,” he warned.

A good thing, because with his werewolf strength, he’d probably wrench it from my hands and I’d tumble off the roof backward.

“Pull yourself along-”

He stopped, seeing I was already doing that. I made it onto the flat part, wobbled a step, then felt my knees start to give way. Derek grabbed my arm-the one without stitches, bandages, and a bullet graze-and I lowered myself slowly.

“I-I’m just going to sit for a minute,” I said, my voice shakier than I liked.

Derek sat beside me, his shirt back on. I could feel him watching me, uncertain.

“I-I’ll be okay. Just give me a second. It’s safe to sit here, right?”

“Yeah, the slope’s only about twenty-five degrees, so-” Seeing my expression, he said, “It’s safe.”

The fog was lifting, and I could see trees stretching into the distance on all sides, a dirt road winding through them to the house.

“There was a ghost,” I said finally.

“Yeah, I figured that.”

“I-I knew I shouldn’t follow, but-” I paused, not ready for the full explanation, still shaky. “I stopped outside your door, hoping you’d hear me. I guess you did?”