A Time to Die (Elemental Rage Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

was abstract, distant.  She felt numb from the
inside, out, cold in a way that didn’t shiver, as if she’d passed the point of
hypothermia to death.  At least Raven could move now.
    She walked down
the hall noticing the house for the first time, the way the floor creaked under
the carpet under the picture of the whole family, taken when Mindy was tucked
away in her Mother’s womb.  Jade was a solemn little girl of nine, standing
beside her mother.  Raven, just a year younger, stood with eyes sparkling, her
Dad’s hand resting on her shoulder. 
    As she recalled,
he’d just made the kind of lame joke that kids love to get them all laughing. 
Claire held Raven’s hand.  She had a faraway, day-dreamy look.  Claire had
always been the loner of the family, always off by herself exploring the world.
    Raven hesitated at
the end of the hallway.
    Frightened.
    Closing her eyes,
Raven had to give herself a stern talking to.  It made no sense being afraid of
her sisters, of her great aunt.  It made no sense at all.
    As Raven stepped
into the living room, she felt like crying.  Her throat was parched, her mouth
dry.  She could barely squeak out the words, “Good morning.”
    She felt so
awkward.  Raven waited for Aunt Bertha to ground her or yell at her for keeping
Jade out in the middle of the night.  During the ride home, Jade had told Raven
that she’d awoken Bertha in the middle of the night to tell her what had
happened and where she was going.
    Of course you
did, straight-laced sister of mine.
    Aunt Bertha waved
Raven over, a smile on her face, but her eyes, oh, her eyes looked so
disappointed, so sad.  Raven felt worse for that sadness than for anything else
she had done.
    “Sit.”
    Raven took the
edge of the couch, nearest Bertha’s rocker.  She didn’t exactly want Claire and
Mindy to hear her dressing down.
    Aunt Bertha
carefully set her crocheting aside, “You’ve got trouble, Girl. More than any of
us can deal with.”
    Raven stared at
the ceiling, willing the tears away.  She kept them at bay as she said, “Aunt
Bertha.  I’m not an alcoholic.  I swear. I left the party without having a drop
to drink.”
    Bertha barked a
laugh, the kind that isn’t as happy as it sounds. She said, “Oh, Honey, your
problems have nothing to do with alcohol.  The Void has its claws in you deep. 
We need to get them out, and it’s no easy task, let me tell you.”
    Raven grabbed the
pillow at the edge of the sofa and covered her face with it. Trying to keep the
pain out of her voice, Raven said, “Is that why I can’t feel Air anymore?”
    Bertha hardly had
the strength to pull herself out of the chair, but she did.  She moved to the
sofa next to Raven, pulling the pillow away from her face. Bertha said, “Yes.
Fight against the numbness you feel.  Fight against the darkness. The Void will
want to take you now that it’s seen you once.”
    Raven wiped the
tears from her eyes and turned her head to see if Claire and Mindy were
watching.  Claire quickly glanced down, and Raven saw how disturbed she was. 
Mindy held an Elmer’s glue bottle in both hands and was making a mountain on
top of a piece of construction paper.  It was funny and not.  In a normal
family, some nervous mother would have taken that glue bottle away long before
so much glue would be wasted. In this family, glue mountains weren’t so bad.
    Raven leaned into
Bertha’s hug. She whispered hoarsely, “I’ll try.  For everyone, I’ll try.”
    “Do it for you,
too, Raven.  The cost is your soul.” Bertha clung to Raven. 
    Aunt Bertha
sounded so haunted, so frightened that Raven put her arms around her aunt and
comforted her.  “I’ll be okay.  I’m strong.”
    Raven didn’t feel
strong. The numbness seeping through her body took on a new quality.  She
recognized it now as an interloper, like a skin disease that slowly crept
across a person, not part of the body, but so connected that it felt impossible
to defeat.