Chapter Eight
"Least I don't need to beg or borrow. Yes I'm living at a pace that kills." Running with the Devil. Van Halen.
Getting wasted on the first day back had not been part of his plans. Caleb put the lid firmly back on the sleek Tiffany hip-flask he'd borrowed from Sophie.
Pull it the fuck together Reaves! Hunter's handbook 101 – scared patsies make easy targets for spirits and possession… I am so not giving that spiteful little Bitch that pleasure!
Firming up his resolve through sheer stubbornness, the teenage Psychic pulled himself up off the floor. This was a whole new layer of shit Cecile seemed to be trying to pull him through – dredging up and using what she remembered of his Psychotic great-grandfather, was crossing a line she would sorely regret.
For a second he reconsidered trying to talk to Mac or Jim or even Johnny, because facing the disgust or judgment in their eyes, could not feel as cold and ashen as the weight of fear lining the pit of his stomach. That voice, that memory… had to be courtesy of Cecile's mind tricks. The alternative was that he was finally loosing the plot.
"Like Dad" he whispered hoarsely, scared to allow his fears to leak into the light of day.
He dragged a hand across his face as if he could scrub away the surge of panic that went along with that thought. Slowly he opened his eyes and glanced at the rail. Resting his hands on the bar he pushed forward, tipping his weight heavily on both hands. As his feet began to lift off the cement floor his forearms shook, protesting the weight of his six foot then some form. He watched the muscles under his tanned skin flex and contract, strain and pull – he welcomed the uncomfortable sensation of their trial and the near lightheaded sensation his mind was slipping into as he inched further forward.
As a hunter he would have to have amazing discipline. Because – of course he was not going to be just any hunter – he would be the tainted one, the demon offspring, whose loyalties would always be in question.
His palms had long ago begun to sweat with the exertion of balancing his weight and keeping himself the right side of the four storey drop.
Mac and the others would forever be defending him to other hunters – hadn't that shithead Fisher showed him that? Fisher, Hastings and even fucking Sawyer didn't look at him like he was new meat, when they threw him that hazing party… they stared at him like he was rancid… rotten, filthy… No matter how well trained he was, how many hunts he took on – he would never be accepted. Hell even Deuce was beginning to look a little frayed round the edges – he was probably looking down the road to the time when he and Caleb would be hunting together, like they'd always planned, and wondering if Caleb really was someone who could be counted on.
He frowned as his left wrist buckled and he toppled awkwardly, catching his shoulder on the bar and shouting the kind of oath Johnny would have been proud to loose.
"Well fuck them!" he growled. "Fuck all of them! I never asked for a babysitter or the Nanny Job!" he rubbed absently at his shoulder.
"Caleb?" the soft voice called as if unsure weather this was the best course of action.
Caleb spun quickly to face the person his reeling mind had already begun to comprehend from the accent. The fact that a civilian had gotten the drop on him was just plain embarrassing – more so than having been caught cussing at the wind.
"Sophie …" he faltered.
"Are you alright?" her voice was genuinely concerned and even as he lowered his shields a little to get a read on her he could feel her emotions reaching out to him.
He stayed still, feeling a little guilty as she walked over to him and tentatively put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Your not … your usual self…" she gave him a quick cautious look, checking to see if she'd crossed a line.
When he gave no response except to drop her gaze she went on.
"I know my brother and I have not given you any reason to … well lets face it we behaved like dicks!" she conceded drawing a rare smile from him. "But no matter what type of person you think I am Caleb, I owe you."
She said the last sentence as if she was working to convince herself. Reaves was tempted to save himself the threatening Emo moment by reading her, but something in the determined look on her face told him that, this was costing her privileged Prada wearing conscience severely – and who the hell was he to judge anyone?
"Why don't you tell me what's on your mind Soph? Then we can both spare ourselves the trauma of being in each other's company …"
"Stop that!" she ordered solemnly "I didn't come back to argue… I am trying to help you…"
"'M fine." He rolled off easily, even though he knew his face didn't match his tone.
Sighing she swallowed like she had tasted something awful. "I don't know if this is how it works… I mean all I saw that last time was a shadow, and I freaked out, I only really have your word for what you say is happening to me… I mean…" she halted eyeing him like he was a wild animal on the wrong side of the cage. "There is someone… something, following you…"
Caleb looked at her for two heartbeats and broke into a sardonic laugh before adding an innocent. "You don't say?"
Sophie's eyes flashed dangerously. "You don't believe me? Read me- or whatever the hell it is you do! I'm serious damn it – it hangs round you like a fucking noose … when we were talking earlier, it was – well becoming more solid …less hazy looking … Caleb are you alright, you look ill?"
With a start Reaves found that his hand was firmly wrapped round his midsection trying to quell the acidic churning of his stomach. Could this rank amateur medium, really see what he had secretly begun to fear. The taste of bile was thick in his mouth. If she saw Seaver – it would confirm his worst fucking nightmare… it was his time. He was going down the same dark road that had led his Father to butcher his Mother. Air became harder to take in; he tightened his grip around himself, as if that could ward off what she seemed desperate to share with him.
He watched her step forward into his space laying the other hand on his shoulder with a panicked look on her face. He couldn't make out what she was saying the sound of his harsh breathing and his heart hammering against his ribcage was pounding out all other noise. His mind was alight, and running scared from what she had to tell him.
"Whoa, whoa there… breathe damn it …." Sophie's tone was frantic as she slammed the taller youth on the back. Silently she chided herself in frustration.
He hasn't swallowed a bloody M 'n' M – Sophie!!!! Oh God, Oh God – Oh GOD – please breathe – DAMN YOU!!!
Out loud she shrieked "Caleb!"
The piercing cry did two things. Firstly it served to break into whatever zone his mind had slipped into, and he slouched forward with a gasp his head barely touching her shoulder. He pulled air in by the lungful, panting and breathing heavily. Secondly it caused her brother to rush up the last few steps to the roof where he had been making his way to see her, spurred on by the alarm in her voice.
As Seb burst onto the roof he took in the scene before him. Reaves was all over his sister who looked scared out of her wits. Hard case or not – Reaves needed to be shown that there was a penalty to be suffered for tangling with the Craigs – besides he still owed the asshole for their last encounter.
"Lucas – go pry that leech off my sister and bring him here so we can dissect him." Seb commanded as his entourage began to join him on the roof.
To his utter amazement Sophie appeared to help Reaves into a more upright position and put herself between him and the advancing Lucas. It was a subtle move, but Sebastian saw it for what it was. He clicked his teeth together sharply, but made no other move waiting to see if his sister had in fact lost her waning senses. Every since Reaves' suspension she had danced very close to the line, when it came to questionable behavior. He had thrown their Father off the scent a couple of times now – once when she was stupid enough to get toasted before one of his work functions. Originally he'd thought to use it as a bargaining chip in the longstanding private war that he and his sibling had wagged amongst themselves for years, but now with this latest infraction; Seb was beginning to suspect a more serious dilemma. They were Craigs; they did not fraternize with Freaks!
"Call off your pit-bull Seb, just a tad overkill don't you think?" Sophie slung at him, drawing herself up to her most imperious.
"Well if you will insist on playing the role of drama queen – but did you have to pick the fairytale involving the amphibian romance?" Sebastian arched back.
Reaves remained strangely docile throughout the exchange, he looked straight at Sebastian with what could only be described as a checked out gaze. For his part Seb found the mute act a little unnerving, he had an inkling, of what Reaves was truly capable of, and you never knew what was ticking away in that head of his.
Tuning out the family drama in front of him, Caleb fought to centre himself. He had to know what Sophie had seen and if it meant taking a peaking without permission, he was willing to take the consequences. He had to know, he was done playing blind, and he was done being the whipping boy. Time to man up – if the worst was happening and the Seaver curse was straight ahead? Then Caleb would do what needed to be done. He half expected a cackle from the young dead stowaway in his head. But nothing came.
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Cecile enjoyed the over terrain route back to the Necromancer who had resurrected her spirit.
Necromancer.
It was a term that she had picked up scanning through the archives at the stronghold she had first found the Reaves boy at. She had sensed the dark nature of her re-entry to the living world, the cold crawling feeling that had accompanied her, and then her less than friendly reception from Le Harve's demonic beasts. The woman herself had been welcoming, pleasant even – she obviously never needed to dirty her hands, but if she was seeking to pull the damned spirit of the Pastor across the void- she was taking on more than she was prepared for. Of this Cecile was certain. But more than that certainty was the fact that she would rather extinguish herself than assist LeHarve in reanimating that Monster.
Upon entering the barn that served as LeHarve's lodging, Cecile noted that the witch was deeply engaged in some dusty old tome. The guard dogs had been set loose it would appear
"Don't hover Cecile… didn't your Mother teach you that was rude?" the elder woman asked with the merest hint of a smile gracing her lips.
Putting down her reading she engaged the spirit fully with her eyes. Cecile knew that she was being closely scrutinized.
"I did not request your presence here girl, nor is your task complete as I still feel your tie to Caleb Reaves…. So why are you here?"
Despite herself Cecile swallowed, she may have underestimated her ambiguous benefactor. There was more steel in that skirt than satin.
"Reaves is still alive, that is so, but he is not intact – I go wherever he goes, serving as a constant reminder of his families crimes, just as you told me to. Only…" Dupree wavered.
"You're wondering about the other presence you probably sense now inhabiting the same space as you?" Verity surmised in an overly neutral tone.
"Seaver's descendant is gaining the courage to do the right thing by the hour; to rid the world of his abominable bloodline … was that not your wish? Am I not fulfilling it?"
"Child, you should know that you are merely the tool with which I am erasing Caleb Reaves, and instruments heed the crafters instructions… they do not concern themselves with the end result, only their specific task. I thought we had learned our lesson the last time you saw fit to question me?" LeHarve spoke as if delivering a classroom lecture, but took great satisfaction at the pained look that crossed the little girl's features. "Your concerns – and yes I can guess them from the impressions I sense from you – are not my concern. You are ignorant of my skills, the same source that brought you here, and your feeble worries about the Good Pastor are as dust to me… much as you are dust without me."
"There is nothing "Good" about that man." Cecile grated unable to help herself and from behind her she heard a familiar snarl.
"Oh come now cherub, do we really have to repeat that lesson? I am giving you the chance to settle old scores – why do you care what extra fail-safe's I throw at Reaves to ensure the outcome I require? I am the enemy of your enemy after all … did they cover that one in bible class?"
Cecile stiffened but knew that on this ground, this close to Leave she stood no chance. She had her answer. Now she needed some space ….
"What is that rattling through your mind Cecile?" Verity demanded dangerously. "Is that really a challenge I see forming in you pretty little head?"
Cecile worked quickly her mind racing for her salvation even as she felt one of the demonic guard's essence directly behind her.
"I despise Seaver – whichever generation I may have the opportunity to put to rights, you know I will take it…. You also know I can never exist alongside the butcher who murdered my family. But I know that the second Reaves is dead I will cease to exist – I accept this, to bring down that cursed name – I embrace this fate."
Le Harve looked genuinely bored now. "How noble… and utterly tedious! I believe you have a task to return to?"
Cecile nodded, forcing her mind to stillness and binding her thoughts firmly, she left.
Only when she was a considerable distance from the Necromancer did she dare to even begin to ponder her alternative course of action. She would put an end to Seaver, but not LeHarves way. Her mind wandered through the souls she had encountered through Caleb's eyes and settled on the one she thought most likely to be of use.
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He was so far off his game today; he should have exited the minute Craig senior showed up. Knowing this was cold comfort after the fact. How had things gone down hill so fast? One minute he was trying to get a read on the "noose" Sophie had seen and the next he was agreeing to some pissing contest laid out by short, blonde and petulant! He always knew the sweater set were a lethal combination of rich and bored. He'd found that out a little late just before he took the suspension. Because to explain himself would have involved selling out Sophie. If it had been just about the academic slap on the wrist; it could not have bothered him less. He owed her and her brother less than nothing, but at that point he had sensed what she had been hiding. She was terrified of her family finding out what she was capable of. There was just no way he could let her take that fall. In doing the right thing, however he had ended up tipping off Seb to his own unique talents, and now he was caught in the Craig's twisted cat and mouse sibling rivalry. Seb knew what he could do, and not just Seal training tricks. He had maneuvered the conversation in such a way that he had Caleb agreeing to a more "hands on wager" being that he could "think" of a million reasons why simply betting as the rest of them were, just wouldn't be sporting – seeing how he and Seb "thought so much alike" on these matters it was "uncanny".
"Stop it Seb, why the hell would Reaves get in the ring with one of those street rats?" Sophie demanded causing Caleb to grimace slightly.
"Oh I don't know Sis – he seems like a man with something to prove … especially to you?" Seb purred stroking Catherine's beaming face like she was already wearing his collar.
"Fuck off Sebastian – he's not…. my type." Sophie began to rage but slowed as she caught Caleb's incredulous look and swallowed hard.
"You don't exactly toast my crumpets either sweetheart." He growled haughtily in a low voice.
"Shut up" she urged quietly through barely moving lips masked by the roar of laughter Caleb's knee jerk comment raised.
Everyone continued to laugh but Seb; he was glaring at the two of them like he had just found a cockroach in his burger.
I know you hear me freak… I can see it on your face – I don't need to know what my whore of a Sister rewarded you with to motivate you to tell that pack of shit you laid down for the Principal, but weather she remembers it or not she is a Craig – and you're a castoff. Play along here or I let all the cats out … what do you think Sophie would make of your Shinning? And I'm pretty sure for every ten people who laugh it off; there will be that one devout good ole boy that will want to gut your black magic practicing ass… or at least they will when I'm done. You thought High school was tough when you were just the outsider; just wait till I paint a bulls eye on your hide. Take the bet, be there tonight – 9pm sharp… and take a trip in the third round. Am I making myself clear?
Reaves threw Sebastian Craig a stony stare and a barely there nod. He was not too bothered by the prospect of going bare knuckles with a street heavy; he'd faced off against worse before. He was not even fazed by the thought of taking a smack down in front of Seb and his cohorts. But he was worried about the conclusions the high bred jackass was jumping to, and the repercussions for Sophie and himself. If Seb thought he had something over Caleb, how else would he plan on using this to his advantage? And what would Sophie be put through if that cowardly snot every decided that she actually liked him? Or worse helped him?
Physically distancing himself from Sophie, he started to run the timeline for this evening through his head. It would be a thirty minute subway trip to the part of town the nightly street match was to be held at. The location always changed to throw off the cops, but it was usually in neighborhoods where taxi cabs never picked up. He'd have to plan in time afterwards to kick Seb's ass – more convincingly this time – and ensure that he behaved like a good boy till the end of term at least. But what the hell was he going to do about Sophie? Glancing at his watch he cursed out loud. He'd meant to meet with Dean twenty minutes ago!
He walked towards the exit and one of Seb's goons actually made to stop him.
"Back off Jack, Caleb will be there … I have every faith, we're so in tune, it's like I can read his mind."
Seb's smile was begging to be knocked off his face and Caleb fought every angry impulse his brain was franticly sending out. Sophie looked stricken realizing too late that Seb was pulling the strings and fearing, wrongly, that she might be tethered to one of them. Reaves played his last card for this round.
Fixing the blonde girl with his coldest, most disinterested look, he grated. "Don't forget to bring Daddies money tonight Princess; I'm really going to enjoy taking it from you and your brother's highly manicured hands. Craig's that stay together – pay together…."
"Our armistice does not stretch that far Reaves – watch your mouth round her…. Didn't you have someplace else to be?"
Sophie sent her thanks silently to him. With a huff he turned on his heel. Fat lot of good that was going to do him if Deuce figured out he was catching rays on the roof with the "It" crowd rather than meeting him as planned.