Chapter Thirteen
Days passed, chickens crowed, and Laken and I stayed a comfortable distance from one another.
After his fun teasing me about feeding the animals, he showed me the “right” way to do it; that is, if he wasn’t purposely teaching me wrong to ensure I failed. At this point, it wouldn’t have surprised me. If he could double as an assassin, I wouldn’t put it past him to want the sanctuary, too.
Most of them were simple. My biggest mistake had been sleeping in too late, so I reluctantly became an I-rise-before-the-sun type of person.
That fixed my issues with the hellblazers.
Butters used a combination of hand signals and gestures.
Benedict really did like to play games; that aspect fell true.
Finneas and Finnigan simply took time to feel comfortable.
Then Phoebe and Archie remained calm as long as the rest of them did the same.
So in all, I’d totally mastered the skill of feeding these creatures.
I wish.
Aside from protecting them and keeping them safe with wards put up by Maeve, the town witch, there was more than I could wrap my head around.
Milking the goats in order to make our highly demanded lotion, collecting hellblazers’ eggs, learning how to store both, and wound care.
Only Phoebe and Indo needed care at the moment.
The porcupine’s quills were beginning to grow back in, but her skin remained raw and dry.
We used the healing cream for her. Indo, on the other hand, continued to be a work in progress.
Laken got the medicine to him two days ago.
That day, I crouched low to the ground, nearly lying on my stomach.
Twigs poked my ribs and snagged my skirt.
Dirt coated my hands, but I did as Laken instructed.
He’d left me there just moments before, insisting he continue alone.
Something about how I walked with a lead foot and snapped every branch I crossed.
Not minutes later he returned with an empty medicine bottle.
I raised my brows. “You did it?”
Laken nodded, offering a hand before lifting me to my feet. He helped pluck the sticks and strands of grass from my clothes as I straightened myself out.
“How’d you do it so fast? How did you get it in his mouth? Did he try to eat you?” My mind unraveled. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. His hair still appeared perfectly messy. His clothes were cleaner than mine.
Without answering me, he walked past. “There is a reason the Wraiths call me Ghost.” Not even a glance. “Let’s go, McCarthen.”
Now, sitting on the concrete under the porch, I waited for him again.
The creatures woke in the enclosures and made the world their own.
Benedict hid most of the time. A few chickens pecked the ground, most rested in their coop.
Finneas and Finnigan jumped, ran, climbed, and enjoyed themselves in the morning sun.
The blisters on my hands had grown over the days, the soreness of my limp arms tripled.
Caretaking wasn’t easy, not even close. In the first week or so, I’d lost clothes, shoes, socks, a few inches of hair, and every ounce of my pride.
Blaze and Gordon were the only ones who tolerated me, and I thanked the Gods for that.
The side gate opened, and Laken strolled through, but he’d brought something along with him.
I tilted my head. “Is that a wheelbarrow?”
He dragged it in, locking the gate behind him. “Yes,” he said, pushing it closer. “I figured you could use some help carrying the bigger loads of food.”
I could’ve wrapped my arms around his neck. I could’ve kissed him. But I didn’t. “You’re a genius,” I cheered and jumped up from my sulking spot.
Laken stopped moving, gawking at me. “I’ll have to write that down. The day Reece McCarthen complimented me.”
Funny. “I don’t see the need to feed your ego.”
He didn’t reply, just snickered as we scooped the hellblazers’ pellets. Laken and I’d been feeding together, but aside from that, he did his own thing and I did mine. Not that I expected him to spend every waking hour with me—or even wanted him to for that matter.
“You said the other day the Wraiths call you Ghost; do you all have nicknames?” I asked, desperate to escape the silence between us and itching to know more.
“They aren’t nicknames,” he corrected, cracking open the chickens’ gate. I’d grown more adjusted to the smell, but it remained gross. “They’re like aliases. I can’t go around chanting, ‘I’m Laken Augustus,’ can I?”
Entering their enclosure, I followed behind him, ready to use his body as a shield if needed. “Have you ever been recognized?”
We stepped around the pen, going around the coop to their feeders. Laken did it with ease, but I still didn’t trust the mother-cluckers.
“No,” he sneered, tossing a quick look at me. “We wear masks. Nobody has seen my face.”
Wrinkling my nose, I glared at him. “You know, you have a way of answering my questions that’s…”
“Informative?” he guessed.
“Infuriating,” I corrected.
He finished pouring his feed out; I was already checking for eggs. “You have a way of asking questions that’s…”
“Inquisitive?” I yelled, deep in the nest box.
“Insufferable.”
What? I banged my head on the edge. Unusually snappy for him. Pulling out with two more eggs, I watched him stand from the feeders. “What? You don’t like talking about your secret life?”
“Not particularly.”
Fine. “So what’ve you been up to? What do you do when you aren’t helping me?” I don’t know why I asked—or… okay, I did know, but I’d rather not acknowledge it.
“Nothing much,” he replied. “I’ve gone to Rabbit’s Foot a time or two, seeing old friends. Roman and Will still live here, did you know?” I shook my head. “Been at my parents’ place a bit as well, helping my mother with another school project. You know how she is.”
Oh. “So that’s it?”
Laken raised his brows over his shoulder.
“I meant, you’ve been back longer than I have, I didn’t know if you… you know, you spent your time with anyone specific or anything…” My voice trailed off. Spent your time with anyone specific? Who was I? A fifteen-year-old girl?
Laken faced me at the gate with his arms crossed over his chest. “Well, if I were spending time with anyone specific, I think they’d be pretty upset about how much time I spend with you.”
He straightened and narrowed his eyes. “Is there a reason you care?” he asked, his words clinging to his lips as he watched me. “About who I see and spend my time with?”
Scoffing, my cheeks heated more than I would’ve liked.
“No.” No, I said, and yet my mind spiraled at the mere discussion of him seeing someone.
I couldn’t remember how to act, I didn’t even remember I stood in a chicken coop.
With hellblazers. Smoke started to rise in front of me and my feet got really, really hot—“I’m on fire!
” The trim of my dress—which I’d stopped wearing for this reason, but it was laundry day—burned. “I’m on fire!”
I’d never seen Laken move so fast. “Sit still, Reece.” He grabbed my arm and I listened because those flames crawled up my skirt. He stomped the bottom layers, and the fire began to die out, but they were seared.
Heat poured onto my legs, the back crease of my knees grew soaked with smothering sweat. Until water poured onto me.
Drenched, roasted, and shocked, my jaw dropped open as I dragged my eyes from my extinguished skirt up Laken’s body to see him soaked as well.
His dirty-blond hair hung there a shade or two darker, clinging to the edges of his face.
His white tunic had turned sheer and stuck to his skin so tight I wished I hadn’t seen it.
“I thought y’all could use some help,” a third person said. Neither of us had realized anyone else stood nearby, but I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“Maggie?” My dearest friend stood in the doorway with an empty bucket, once holding water. Her brown curls peeked out from under her bandanna. As usual, she wore lovely green loose pants tied around her high waist with a white shirt.
Moving to greet her, I also hadn’t realized Laken had thrown his arm in front of me, guarding my body from what he knew to be an intruding stranger. It took one look at him and his worried side-eye to see what’d happened. Laken instantly prepared for a fight.
I brushed my hand along the length of the arm covering me, grabbing his hand. “Laken, this is Maggie.” I smiled and nodded to my friend.
Snapping out of the trance he’d fallen into, he grinned. “Right, my apologies.”
My arms wrapped around Maggie’s neck and her chest rattled against mine. “This wasn’t how I expected to find you.”
She pulled back, her brown eyes found mine, and I felt as if I hadn’t seen her in forever and yet mere hours at the same time. “Oh.” I jumped. “This is Laken.” I hid my wide-eyed gaze saying, THE Laken Laken. The one you heard me ramble and moan and groan about for the past three years. The ex.
Maggie straightened, observing him and his soaked clothes as though he was nothing more than a bystander. They moved toward each other with outstretched hands. “Laken…” Her words dragged as their hands met.
“Augustus,” he replied.
“Right, and you are…?” She trailed off again and it took me a moment to realize. Maggie definitely knew who Laken was. But if she acknowledged that, Laken would know I’d told her about him, so she acted as if this were the first mention of him.
“Laken is an old friend and is helping me around here while I… readjust.” My “old friend” stood there with an uncomfortable smirk, undoubtedly wondering why Maggie didn’t know who he was.
“Well, pleasure to meet you.” Maggie ended the conversation and Laken returned the compliment. I’d missed her.
An awkward “What now?” silence filled the air, one that made me look around the pasture as if that helped in any kind of way. Teetering back and forth on my feet, I stopped once Laken’s body shifted to face me.