“Grandmaster Cullen, you’re here…in this b—building,” said Garren, his voice raised by several octaves. “Of course you’re here. You’re always—not that you’re always…you certainly have a life outside of presiding over trials but the trials are a top priority over whatever it is you do when you’re not here.”

Somehow, he was tenser than before and unable to form a complete sentence without a stutter. His father’s lips were pressed so tightly together that they appeared to vanish from his face and I half expected him to end the awkwardness with a smack upside the head. I would have offered my own slap or two (maybe a swift kick to the back of the leg) if I was not busy staring at the man across from him, who carried himself much differently from the older, stoic Garren.

Whenever I read about the Grandmaster, the man or woman who led the council, I always imagined someone elderly and wise, someone who knew the world’s secrets and wanted to share that wisdom to benefit the community, both the normal and supernatural. Instead of an old man with snow white hair, he looked a few years younger than my parents, his tousled dark hair a sharp contrast to his eyes that were as blue as forget me nots. He was dressed casually compared to Mr. Garren, the sleeves of his white button down shirt rolled up to his elbows and over that, a dark grey vest, a white rose tucked into the lapel, with a matching tie and slacks.

The way my heart fluttered when he smiled at a bumbling Garren felt as familiar as his laugh and I could not shake the feeling that I had previously met him. It nagged at me as I doubted that I could ever forget someone that handsome. I soon realized that I had only experienced something like this once in my life.

Taking my phone from my back pocket, I opened up a folder marked ‘JH’ and dozens of photos of a dark-haired boy in his early twenties filled the screen. I enlarged a screenshot of a poster from a teen magazine back in fourth grade.

My eyes flickered from the photo (the boy dressed in a white v-neck and leather jacket, his smile causing the simultaneous deaths of thousands of girls and grown women) to the man that Garren was making a fool of himself in front of and I noted every similarity, from their dimples to the shape of their nose. The one real difference was that the boy in the photo was clean-shaven while the man had some scruff.

“Oliver, I’m hardly your elder.” My knees weakened at the sound of his Irish accent. “You can call me Cedric.”

“Right, you’ve said that before,” said Garren, nodding like a bobblehead. “It slipped my mind. I’m sorry. The past few days have been…eventful.”

“I can see that. Rough day at work?” he asked, indicating his bruise.

“You could say that.” Garren covered the bruise with two fingers. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances. I want you to know that—”

“Save it for the trial,” interrupted Mr. Garren, sensing that his son wanted to garner sympathy points.

“Just relax, Oliver,” advised Cullen.

Like a soldier taking orders, Garren lowered his shoulders and released a shaky breath. Belmont barked quietly behind his back, enjoying his awkward behavior.

“You’re here to tell your side of the story. The council regards each case fairly, no matter who is standing before us,” said Cullen, calmly. “The circumstances aren’t all bad. Now I’ll get to meet Sofia’s granddaughter and if she’s half as brilliant and lovely as Sofia says, you honestly have nothing to worry about tonight.”

Garren, still nodding, wrung his hands together. “Yes, you should meet—this is uh Fin. He’s a friend of Tessa’s and one of the witnesses to the incident. He’ll tell you anything you want to know about that day.”

Cullen grasped his hand in a firm handshake. “Good to meet you, Fin. I’m glad to see you’re adjusting well to your new existence. Death is never easy, especially for someone so young.”

“Hey.” Mr. Garren scoffed at his laidback response. “Yeah, it’s been a little tough but honestly, Byr—Tessa’s helped a lot. I’d probably be doing way worse without her.”

His sincere compliment went in one ear and out the other. I was too distracted by Cullen and the feeling that I was back in fourth grade, sitting inches away from a television screen and waiting with bated breath for the clock to strike nine. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a

flicker of surprise pass over Garren’s face at the unexpected praise.

“She really has, Gr—Cedric, and of course, here she—where did she—Tessa?” I was now standing behind Cullen, comparing his neck to the boy’s in a different photo. “What are you doing?”

“You have the same scar on the back of your neck. You’re him,” I said, biting back an excited shriek.

“Heh, I’m sorry, Cedric,” whispered Garren, with a weak laugh. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s usually—”

“You’re Jackson Howler…or Aiden Cavanaugh…or whatever but you’re him.” Garren shook his head. “Yes, he is. Did you even watch the show? Obviously you did because The Howler Chronicles was amazing.”

The Howler Chronicles, or My fourth grade obsession that took over my entire life (my father’s words), was the biggest teen television show of my childhood, a show enjoyed by everyone no matter if they were nine or nineteen. It depicted the adventures of Jackson Howler, a teenage werewolf who was protecting his town from other supernatural forces, and every Friday night at eight, kids across the country would be glued to their television screens as he fought monsters.

He formed a team with his friends, some of them supernatural themselves, and a wolf that he cared for since he was a boy and shared a psychic connection with, named Shadow. Jackson, or the actor who played him, became a TV heartthrob and like every girl my age, my room was covered with his posters.

I remembered how heartbroken the girls in my class were when the season finale was announced as the end of the series a few weeks after it aired, the show ending on a suspenseful cliffhanger. When I rewatched episodes with Elena, I knew that it was a lot cheesier than it seemed as a child but in a way, I still loved the show because it helped me embrace my supernatural abilities.

Belmont, clearly remembering the show from how much girls gushed over the show and its main star, rolled his eyes. “Amazing? Are you kidding? It lasted one season because it had shit ratings. Now it makes sense why he was a bad actor.”

“He doesn’t mean that,” I told an intrigued Cullen, refusing to let him think that I agreed with Belmont. “You were like the best thing on that show. He never watched it so how could he know if you were good or not? Don’t listen to him. You totally deserved a second season. I used my dad’s credit card to donate three hundred dollars to that petition.”

“Oliver, do you have any control over these children?” asked Mr. Garren, disgusted by our ‘immaturity’. “Grandmaster, I apologize for this nonsense. The children should be much better behaved, not acting like—”

He stiffened at Cullen’s laughter. “Children? Lighten up, will you? Besides, it’s always a joy to meet a fan.” My heart leapt out of my chest when he winked at me. “I agree with you, Tessa. It was a good show.”

“C—can you say my name again?” I asked, my phone trembling in my hand. “I want to record it for my friend Elena.”

“Byrne, stop being weird,” muttered Belmont, before turning to Cullen. “Why were you on it? Are you actually an actor?”

“It was for a mission. There were suspicions that a reaper, one of the actresses on the show, was involved in something quite dangerous. My father was the Grandmaster at the time and ordered me to conduct an investigation. We had never met so to her, I was a fellow, average reaper.” My breath caught in my throat as he looked over at me. “Your trial will begin in a few minutes, Tessa. Why don’t I help you get cleaned up? The washroom isn’t far. I assume you have a change of clothes as well? My colleagues can be a bit uptight when it comes to proper attire.”

Unable to speak, I merely nodded. I had been so busy staring that I did not realize we were in the bathroom until I heard the sound of running water. Cullen held a hand towel, coated in healing potion, under the faucet then used it to wipe away the dried blood under my nose.

“Are you nervous?”

“Because I’m this close to the guy I had a crush on when I was nine? N—oh, you mean the trial,” I said, causing him to chuckle again. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. I mean, one wrong word and it’s a guilty sentence. No pressure.”

“This trial is meant to get to the truth, not lock you up and throw away the key.” His tone was soothing and kind. “The other council members and I know that you’re a good girl, Tessa. You’ve never stepped out of line. Between us, this is just a formality.”

He washed away a spot of dirt from my left cheek. I gripped the counter so tightly that I thought it was about to snap beneath me.

“I’ve known your family for a long time,” he said, speaking to me like a friend and not the greatest reaper in the world. “Even if they were guilty of any wrongdoing, there was a justifiable reason for it. As happy as I am to finally meet you, I do wish it wasn’t in such a difficult situation. Danger seems to be following you lately. The car crash, this trial…”

My eyes drifted to the white rose in his lapel. I recalled the vases in my hospital room, Belmont’s claims that similar flowers were placed at his grave, and a rose being found in Mr. Mitchell’s pocket when he was being taken to the ambulance.

“Did you visit me in the hospital?” I wondered, an uneasy feeling swirling in my stomach.

He held the towel under the faucet once more, to remove the mixture of dirt and blood. “Afraid I was attending to business in Italy at the time. Why do you ask?”

“I remember someone leaving me roses like that in my room,” I said, seeing no reason to lie to him. “Not that I’d expect you to visit me. You don’t know me—I mean, you do but you know every reaper. It’s not like you visit every single one who gets hurt. Maybe you do. I don’t know you that well. I was—please stop me before I get to Oliver levels of embarrassing.”

“It’s a symbol for the council. All the members have one,” he explained, adjusting the rose in his lapel. “We’re aware when a reaper has been harmed. Perhaps one of the members sent it as a reminder that you were in our thoughts and prayers. We’d never wish to see a young reaper, certainly not one with such promise, cut down when their life has barely started.”

I managed a weak grin to hide that I did not share his optimistic view. If anything, it made the mission to find Belmont’s killer even more unsettling. Accusing a fellow student was much different from accusing a member of the esteemed council, someone who was highly regarded among the supernatural community.

Cullen left the bathroom to give me privacy as I changed out of my clothes. I was zipping the back of my skirt when I saw a young girl, no older than six years old, in the mirror. There were shards of glass in her dark curls and her skin was marred by a deep gash that ran along the left side of her face. The girl opened her mouth to speak but I heard no sound, only silence.

I thought that I was hallucinating from the stress of the trial, until I felt tiny fingers brushing against my arm. Turning around, I saw the same girl, who barely came up to my waist.

“A—Abby?” I asked, wondering if Vivienne was right and I had lost my mind.

Tears trickled down her face. “Help me.”

“How can I see you? You’re not—you can’t be here. This is a trick.” She grasped my wrist. “A really good trick. You’re not real. It’s in my head.”

“Help me,” she begged.

“Abby, how are you here?” I bent down to her. “You crossed over. You can’t—”

A shadow creature appeared at her side, blood dripping from its mouth and its fingers entwined in her curls. Without hesitation, I threw a bottle of scented hand soap but it went right through its body, striking the wall. I noticed that I could no longer hear Abby, her words cutting in and out like bad cell reception.

“Help—tell—council—trouble—you—El—Fi”

In the blink of an eye, both she and the creature vanished from the bathroom. “Abby? Where’d you go? What were you saying?”

Belmont poked his head through the door. “Byrne, the trial is about to st—” He watched as I waved my arms wildly in all directions. “What are you doing?”

I pulled him into the bathroom. “I saw Abby,” I whispered.

“Ab—Elena’s little sister?” he asked, puzzled. “But you said the rest of her family passed on after the accident. I thought we couldn’t see people who did that.”

“I thought I was going crazy because I was nervous about the trial but she grabbed my wrist,” I said, wishing her touch had left a mark. “She said that she needed help and then a shadow creature appeared too. It didn’t attack me but I couldn’t touch it like I could with Abby. It was standing there and then I couldn’t hear her anymore. She was saying something about trouble and the council...you can say it. I’m losing it.”

“Hey, look at me,” he said, reaching for my hand. “If you say you saw her, I believe you. You’re a little weird sometimes but you’re not crazy, Byrne. Let’s get through this trial and then we’ll figure out what’s going on. One thing at a time, okay? I’ve got your back.”

Together, we returned to Garren, who was being faintly reprimanded by his father. Even from a distance, I could hear bits of their conversation. His father warned him that if the trial ended with a guilty verdict, Garren would be disowned by his family and sent away to live with his ‘pathetic great-uncle Bartholomew’. Mr. Garren, a white rose now nestled in the pocket of his suit jacket, regarded me with a lingering disdain, my more respectable outfit not changing his poor opinion of me.

“I am about to escort you into the main chamber, Miss Byrne,” he announced, speaking with authority. “I will remind you that you are not to speak unless spoken to and the council will not tolerate any immaturity from you or your ghostly companion.”

As he tapped his cane on the floor three times, the double doors swung open with an ominous creak. The main chamber was, for lack of a better word, enormous. Each footstep echoed off the stone walls and it was dim, except for the ceiling that reflected the cosmos. I spotted the Canis Minor constellation twinkling amongst the darkness.

The moment the doors shut, the dim room was illuminated by floating candles, revealing that we were surrounded on all sides by men and women, some just a few years older than me and others looking like they had been around for centuries. I had expected them to be dressed like Mr. Garren but their attire reflected their individual cultures.

If a Hollywood executive was in the room, he would be having a heart attack at the sight of such diversity. The sole similarity among the council members was the white roses, either tucked into their clothing or placed in their hair. White seemed to be a theme with the council, considering it was the color of the walls, the marble floor, the candles, and their high-backed chairs (though there was a pop of color with the golden accents). Cullen was seated in the middle, his chair perched higher than the rest and resembling a throne, with Mr. Garren on his right and a middle-aged woman in a pale blue sari that matched her eyes on his left.

The woman flashed me the tiniest smile as a sign of comfort but my mind was on the roses. They mocked me from every angle, taunting that Belmont’s possible killer was about to decide my fate despite being the one who put me in this mess.

“You are Tessa Ata Byrne-Reyes, age seventeen, of Belmont Falls, Louisiana?” asked Cullen, placing a black folder on his lap.

In the chair below him, a young man, who looked like he modeled himself after Mr. Garren, was diligently typing on a silver laptop. He stopped, waiting for my response.

“Yes.”

The boy continued to type and as Cullen repeated the question to Garren and Belmont, my eyes darted around the spacious room. Many of the council members looked at me with pity or curiosity but others, like Mr. Garren, thought that I was no better than gum stuck on the bottom of their shoes. I heard a pair of elderly women whispering in the corner about me taking after my reckless grandmother.

“Well, that’s settled. Shall we begin?” He opened the folder. “At ten past three, the blade of Charon was reported missing from its secure location and found in your possession. Oliver had written to the council shortly after you received our message informing you of this trial and explained that you had no idea how it ended up with you. Is that true?”

Belmont suddenly squeezed my arm so tightly that I could feel his fingers pressing into bone. Following his gaze, I stiffened at the sight of a hoofed, lion-like creature with a single, sharp horn on its head. The creature paced around the chamber (“I think I pissed myself. Don’t write that,” he hissed at the young scribe, who lifted his fingers from the keyboard at Belmont’s harsh glare) before settling itself at the front of the chamber. Cullen called it a xiezhi, an animal capable of distinguishing truths and lies.

“Doesn’t it gore someone with that horn if they’re lying?” I stammered, watching the imposing creature.

He grinned at my surprising knowledge. “This one is well-trained, Tessa. Li can assure you herself that it will not attack unless told,” he said, nodding towards a dark-haired girl in her late twenties who dressed like she was attending a rock concert, not a council trial. She lazily waved her hand. “It will growl when it senses a lie. You’re in no danger.”

“That’s how you decide if we’re telling the truth? A freaky lion unicorn?” asked Belmont, his outburst earning him a pinch on his elbow from Garren.

“As I said, you’re in no danger,” Cullen replied, his confidence not helping to assuage Belmont’s fear. “We want to hear the truth from both of you. As Tessa is the one standing trial, we will hear from her first and then from you, Fin. Tessa?”

I remembered everything that I had practiced with Garren and my mother the night before the trial. When I spoke with the council, I was supposed to apologize and insist that it was an accident. The white roses continued to taunt me and at the moment, all I wanted to do was scream at the top of my lungs.

“Oliver’s wrong,” I said, abandoning my rehearsed speech. “It wasn’t an accident, not really.”

“You admit that you stole the blade? That you—”

Mr. Garren went silent as Cullen raised his hand ever so slightly. “Let her speak, Lionel. That is why she’s here. Go on, Tessa.”

My heartbeat was as fast as a hummingbird flapping its wings. “My mother said that it can be summoned if a reaper is in danger and—” (“Tessa, please. This isn’t the right time,” Garren softly pleaded as Belmont gave me an encouraging nod) “I was in danger. Well, my friend…sort of friend Amity was…she was about to jump off the school roof that day but she was being forced to do it.”

“Forced?” questioned Cullen. “Was she being threatened by another classmate?”

“No, she was…possessed.” Li, who had been leaning back in her chair, sat up straight, at full attention. “It was using her to scare me…to punish me because I didn’t listen and when it got out of her, it tried to attack me but then, my birthmark kind of glowed and something came out of it to kill the creature and then it turned into the dagger.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Complete silence followed my confession. The entire council stared at me but no one said a word.

“Creature? What do you mean by that?” asked the woman on his left, leaning forward in her chair. “Why do you think your friend was possessed?”

“Because it’s not the first time. That’s why I got in the car accident. One of them was inside my friend Will and made him crash the car,” I confessed, a weight lifting off my chest. “I’ve seen them around Belmont Falls and my encounters with them coincide with me investigating Fin’s death.”

“His death was an accident,” she said, glimpsing at her folder. “According to his file, he fell off a bridge after having too much to drink. Why would you investigate a natural event?”

“Because that’s a lie.” It was now or never. “Fin was killed and…I think a reaper did it.”

This time, my words were met with outrage and distrust. Several council members, including Mr. Garren, were insisting that I was spouting lies to cover up my own crime and that it at least guaranteed me a cell at Erinyes. Those who were not calling for my immediate imprisonment looked at me like I had sprouted wings.

“SILENCE!”

Cullen’s voice rang throughout the chamber and the shouting ceased, though the anger and disgust was written on their faces. He cleared his throat, never taking his pale blue eyes off me.

“Tessa,” he said, gravely. “Are you aware that is a serious accusation? To accuse a reaper of...we help to guide life, not extinguish it. Death at our hands is a sin that can never be wiped clean.”

“That’s why Oliver didn’t want me to say anything but if I don’t, you might not be able to stop them,” I replied, my anxiety at an all time high. “There’s another reaper that’s been in Belmont Falls, besides me and my mother. I don’t know why they would kill Fin. Maybe he was a random target or there’s a deeper meaning but I know it was a reaper.”

“And what makes you so certain?” asked the woman, one of the council members who did not want my head on a spike. “Why would you think a reaper murdered an innocent boy?”

“Because we’re the only ones who can control the creatures that helped them. I think they found a way to bring hupias from the Other Side. I know—” I raised my voice as council members scoffed in disbelief. “I know that they were banished to remain there but they match the descriptions I’ve read of them. Reapers created the barrier so a reaper could, in theory, disable it. They started showing up the night Fin died, even before his death. One tried to take my friend Will’s younger sister but I stopped it. They attacked me at his memorial and they possessed Will to make him crash the car. It’s what tried to get Amy to jump off the roof and it’s why the dagger appeared to me. It was protecting me from a hupia. If I was lying, wouldn’t the xiezhe be growling? I wouldn’t be risking eternal punishment for—”

My impassioned plea was interrupted by the sound of clapping. I gazed up at Mr. Garren, who was suppressing a laugh.

“Very amusing, Tessa,” he said, with a disturbing smile. “Almost reminiscent of your mother when she had her trial. You think childish ghost stories are going to distract us from the truth? Vidya may be fooled by that innocent face but I see through this pitiful act.”

“It’s not—”

“Quiet, you insolent girl,” he snarled. “Just because you believe something doesn’t make it true. Yes, the xiezhe can distinguish between truth and lie but if you believe hard enough, it can be fooled. You’re hardly brainless. What a clever way to distract us from your indiscretions.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. Why else would I have the dagger?” I argued, struggling not to throw my heel at him. “It appeared because it knew I was getting attacked. I have proof besides the hupias. I wasn’t mugged before the trial. I was attacked by a hellhound. Reapers can control those too. That’s why they’re used at Erinyes…because they’ll obey us and do anything we tell them. They’re allowed to cross over from the Other Side.”

“Yes and are closely monitored to ensure they return to their proper place,” he said, ignoring any of my evidence.

“Unless they know how to blend in with the rest of us,” I said, referring to my half-baked theory.

“There were two hellhounds, one attacked me and one saved me. I followed the one that helped and its prints turned human. They can shift their appearance. How do you know some haven’t done that secretly and they’ve been living up here?”

“Because that ability was denied to them centuries ago, Tessa.” Cullen had finally spoken after my long-winded confession of the events in Belmont Falls. “Yes, they were able to shift at will but when they became too dangerous, the council decided to keep them permanently in canine form.”

Already drained, I shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t get all of them. Like you told me before, if my family did something wrong, they always had a good reason for it. Well, I had a good reason for taking that dagger. I don’t care if you think I’m insane. If you want to throw me in Erinyes, fine. I just need one of you to believe me. I’m not just doing this for Fin. Whoever that reaper is, they’re the ones who hurt my grandmother and she didn’t deserve what happened to her either. You say you care about justice? Then get off your asses and prove it because while you’re sitting in your fancy chairs, acting like nothing is wrong with the world, something is happening and if more people end up dead, that’s on you.”

A renewed silence fell among the chamber, the council members looking from each other to me. Waiting for someone, but hopefully not Mr. Garren, to speak, a sense of relief washed over me as Belmont gave me a thumbs up. Cullen repeatedly nodded as Vidya and Mr. Garren whispered in his ears, like an angel and devil on his shoulders. In the midst of their hushed discussion, the young scribe handed Cullen a piece of paper that had appeared out of thin air.

“Tessa, you claim that this reaper is in Belmont Falls. Why did you not accuse Vivienne Torres of being the alleged murderer?” he inquired. “I have eyewitnesses that report her being in town though she was strictly forbidden from being within a hundred miles of any reaper. They say that she violated those terms of her release and was seen speaking with you. Has she been in contact with you?”

“Yes,” I replied, already dreading the direction of this conversation. “But she has no part in it. I know she doesn’t. Don’t ask me how. I just know.”

“You just know,” repeated Mr. Garren, enunciating each word. “How convenient that you fail to mention that you already know of another reaper in your town. One who has violent inclinations…perhaps this little story of yours isn’t as true as you’d like us to believe or if it is true, is your past blinding you to the obvious answer? The council is well aware of your intimate past with Miss Reyes.”

Belmont burst into a fit of laughter, resulting in affronted glares from the elder council

members. I was determined to stare at my heels, unable to make any eye contact.

“Intimate? Wait, you think—Byrne and—come on, now you’re messing with us, right? I’ve known Byrne since second grade and I’m pretty sure she’s never so much as kissed anyone. Not that she couldn’t get any action—” Garren held his head in his hands. “She probably would if she didn’t dress so…well, she used to dress a lot worse, trust me. I mean, I get why because she’s kind of a prude. The closest she’s gotten to a real kiss is when the guys and I would give her ‘CPR’ when she passed out in class.”

“Did the girls think he was charming when he was alive?” Li asked me. “They must have low standards in your hometown.”

“Shut up,” I hissed, afraid his outburst would ruin the trial.

“What? I’m defending you, Byrne,” he said, as if I was being unreasonable. “They actually think you used to hook up with that psycho.”

I tore my gaze away from the marble floor. “I don’t see how my past with Vivienne is relevant.” (“Wait, you and—what?” whispered Belmont in disbelief, earning another hard pinch from Garren, who looked just as stunned) “That was years ago. I’m not that naïve anymore. I told her to stay away from me the moment we saw each other and I doubt she’s completely rehabilitated but she’s not the reaper. The timeline doesn’t fit and I don’t appreciate my past being used to slander my credibility.”

“Considering the hold that girl had on you for a time, you can understand our concern. Perhaps old feelings resurfaced and you’re covering her tracks because you don’t wish to see her locked up again,” suggested Mr. Garren.

“Or perhaps you want to keep your head in the sand instead of dealing with the actual problem, which is the murderous reaper who already killed once and is somehow letting dangerous creatures out from the Other Side,” I retorted, the older man bristling in response. “If I can’t convince you, then fine. At least I tried. My trial is about whether I purposely took the dagger or not so decide on that instead of debating whether my past love life is affecting my decisions now.”

Vidya and Li looked impressed by my verbal bitch slap. Mr. Garren’s tanned face reddened in rage, his wide eyes making him look like an angry owl, but it was soon replaced with confusion as the double doors burst open. The hooded figure that I had seen outside the building, carrying a duffel bag, entered the room, his footsteps piercing the silence.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked Cullen as he stood up from his chair, baffled by the intrusion. “As you can see, we are in the middle of a trial. Interrupting council business is—”

Without saying a word, the figure hunched forward and I could hear the bones breaking in their back with a sickening crunch. The figure groaned as they fell to their knees, tufts of light brown fur peeking out from the tears in their sweatshirt.

Once their clothes had torn completely, the bones in their furry body were visible, moving back and forth like a giant worm wriggling beneath their skin, and a second later, a hellhound was standing in the council chamber, the members out of their chairs and gaping at the oversized beast in horror.

Garren stopped me from stepping closer to the hellhound, the one who had saved me earlier that day (bearing more than the X-shaped scar after the fierce fight), and forced both me and Belmont behind him. Before the council could react, Mr. Garren beginning to shout for the guards, the hellhound returned to their original form, a completely naked Parker.

If it were any other situation, I would have checked if Elena was lying about the size of his ‘twig’ (“More like a huge log,” she whispered in the midst of telling me about their summer trip to Cancun during a seventh grade art class) but my mind was blank.

Belmont and Garren’s faces were frozen in shock, both clueless about his supernatural nature, but I was…unsure. It was the only word that described my emotions in that moment. I was simultaneously speechless and wanting to say a million things but it looked like I was as stupefied as the rest of the room. Parker unzipped the duffel bag and put on a new set of clothes, a Belmont High Varsity t-shirt and jeans.

“I know I shouldn’t have interrupted but you’re ganging up on the wrong person,” he said, panting. “Tessa’s telling the truth. I think what I did is enough proof.”

“Grandmaster, these children are making a mockery of—”

“Not now, Lionel.” Cullen eyed Parker suspiciously. “Your name?”

He lowered his head. “Chace Parker, sir. She’s right that there’s another reaper...one who is causing trouble. I’ve heard things among others like me. Whoever the reaper is, they’ve been recruiting reapers and supernatural creatures.”

“You know Miss Byrne?” asked Vidya, curious unlike the rest of her frightened peers.

“We’ve gone to the same school since second grade,” he told her. “I don’t know who the reaper is but I know someone working with them. My father is a hellhound like me. He attacked Tessa today and he would’ve killed her if I didn’t stop him.”

“Surely you know that being above the surface is forbidden for your kind and yet you revealed yourself,” she said, surprised. “You understand the risk of such an act?”

Parker nodded. “I don’t care what happens to me. I don’t want you to punish Tessa. She’s innocent.”

I was still attempting to sort out my conflicting thoughts and feelings when the young scribe ushered us into a side hallway. Garren muttered to himself, thinking he was an idiot for never realizing that Chief Parker, who he spent most of his days with, was a supernatural being, let alone a hellhound.

“That explains why you knew how to shut up my dogs. You speak the same language,” said Belmont. Parker tore his dark eyes away from me, his fists clenched. “Explains why you always beat my time on the treadmill too. They should’ve given you a best in show ribbon instead of that medal.”

“This isn’t the time for your lame jokes,” he growled.

Belmont pouted. “That didn’t get your tail wagging? I’ve got all night. Can you only see me when we’re down here?”

“No, I’ve seen you around her,” he said, looking like he wanted to break his jaw. “You and Elena flicker in and out. I thought you were being your usual asshole self and deciding to spend your ghostly existence tormenting her for your own sick fun. I saw Elena get a good smack too. Bet she was waiting a long time for that.”

“Get out.”

My voice, barely above a whisper, distracted them from the looming argument between the former best friends. “You heard her, Fido. Walk away. Go find a hydrant to pee on or chase a squirrel.”

“I mean you! Both of you!” I shouted, my voice bouncing off the walls. I pointed at him and Garren then the nearest door. “GET OUT!”

Garren, knowing that he could not convince me otherwise, pushed Belmont towards the door. Once it shut behind them, despite Belmont’s protests, I turned my back on Parker, my head buried in my hands. I was struggling to understand what I had seen minutes ago, trying to make myself believe that it was a weird dream. Maybe everything up to this point had been a dream and I would wake up to the impending trial.

“Tessa, I know—I didn’t want you to find out this way but I heard what Oliver’s dad was saying and I wanted to help,” he muttered.

The word ‘help’ snapped me out of my own thoughts. “Help? You wanted to help? Is that you wanted to do? Really? Help me out some more, pal. How long have you known about me?”

Parker confessed that he learned the truth in eighth grade. On his fourteenth birthday, he experienced his first transformation into a hellhound and his father informed him of their supernatural nature, passed down through generations. A few day laters, still reeling from that news, he saw me pass out in class, deep cuts in my wrists.

At the time, everyone believed that it was a suicide attempt but Parker surmised that there was more to the story. That day, he returned home and overheard his parents discussing a suicide at the high school. Sneaking a peek at the file on his father’s desk, before helping his mother with dinner, he saw a picture of the girl’s wrists, her cuts matching mine. His father caught him in his office but instead of getting angry, like usual, he told his son about other supernatural beings, including reapers.

“Three years,” I whispered. “For three years, you knew what was going on and you let those sleazeballs you call friends put their hands on me for fun. You let Claire and her band of brainless monkeys torment me day after day. You joined in with them. Sickie, Make a Wish…didn’t see you trying to help me then.”

“According to my dad, hellhounds don’t have the best relationship with reapers,” he said, his awkward attempt at an excuse. “He and your mom have a bad history and when he heard you were in my class, he told me to stay away from you. After I found out what you were, I wanted to talk to you about it. I thought you would understand what it’s like to be different. It’s how I got this.”

He passed his hand over the faded scar on his ribcage. She thought back to his comments in the cave.

“He heard me in my room, practicing how I was going to bring it up. My mom freaked out when she saw me and I had to lie that I had a rough football practice.”

“So you must’ve known that I wasn’t attacked by one of Belmont’s dogs at his memorial,” I said, putting the pieces together.

“I wasn’t sure but I guessed it was something supernatural. Look, I—” I inched back as he stepped forward, closing the wide gap between us. “I get that this is tough and I’m sorry that I let people like Claire and Fin treat you like crap. You’re right that I should’ve had your back but—can you blame me? It’s high school. If I started hanging out with you—I didn’t mean it like that. It came out wrong.”

“No, I think it’s exactly what you meant,” I replied, viciously. “Your precious popularity and stupid friends were more important to you than being a decent person. Your dad was right to stop you from talking to me. Both of us being supernatural doesn’t make us automatic BFFs, Parker. We’ve never been friends and we never will be because I deserve better than a shallow asshole like you. If the council finds me innocent, you’re staying the hell away from me. We’re done talking.”

I headed towards the door, sure that Garren and Belmont had heard every word and tuning out Parker’s pleas to explain himself. My body went numb when he grabbed my wrist a little too tightly. He immediately released his grip and I glanced down at the bruises forming on my skin.

“I’m sorry. I—sometimes, I forget my own strength. Tessa, please,” he begged. “What if my little show for the council isn’t enough? Maybe some will believe you but they won’t do anything. I can help you. If we work together, we could find out who the reaper is and stop them before they hurt anyone else.”

“I don’t need your help,” It was taking every ounce of my strength to not let out a shaky breath as the sight of the bruises brought up painful memories. “I have the help I need. Let the council think I’m crazy. I’ll prove them wrong.”

“What help? Two ghosts who spend more time arguing with each other than anything else and a neurotic guardian who panics if his papers aren’t in a neat pile on his desk?” I did not react to his, admittedly, correct assessment of my current allies. "You think Fin actually gives a damn about you? He’s using you like he uses everyone else.”

The door to the main chamber swung open and Vidya stepped into the hallway. “You’re free to go, Tessa. A majority of the council has decided that you had no ill intentions of taking the dagger and the charges have been dropped. Chace, I’m afraid we have a few more questions. If you’ll come with me, please.”

“Just think about what I said,” he whispered.

I felt something soft press into the palm of my hand as he followed Vidya through the door. Opening my fist, I found a piece of paper with Look into Blaine Gilbert, heard my dad talking about him late one night on the phone scribbled in his messy handwriting.

“Good news?” asked Garren, opening the side door.

I hugged “All cleared. We can go h—” I was taken aback by his arms wrapping around me in a warm hug. “You okay?”

“Are you?”

That question held a lot more meaning after the trial. I leaned my head against his shoulder.

“I will be,” I answered, a partial lie.

“I never should’ve accused you of being like Vivienne. If I had known…you can tell me about it on your own time,” he said, leading me through the door. “Let’s get you home. We have a lot to tell your parents and Elena.”

Belmont was uncharacteristically quiet as we headed through the elevator and out of the bank, which involved sneaking past a sleeping security guard. I expected him to make dog jokes about Parker but he did not mention him once, not even to complain about his best friend’s biggest secret. Part of me wondered if he was restraining himself out of respect, that just hearing Parker’s name would upset me.

Garren had begun to drive when my phone buzzed, revealing a voicemail from the hospital. I feared the possibility that it was the therapist wanting another session.

Tessa, this is Brooke, the nurse you spoke with at the hospital. You wanted me to call you if there was any improvement in Will’s condition and I’m happy to tell you that we’ve started to see some progress. He’s not out of his coma yet but the doctors think he’ll be awake soon. We’re encouraging any of Will’s close friends and family to stop by for a visit. Dr. Samuels thinks that might be the final push that he needs. Feel free to visit before or after school.

“Oliver, turn left here,” I said, listening to the voicemail again.

“Your house is the opposite way.”

I turned the wheel myself. “We need to go to the hospital. One of the nurses said that Will might wake up and I know it’s really late and I could go tomorrow morning but—”

“Of course,” he said, in understanding. “We can’t stay long. I don’t want your parents to worry.”

I texted Elena the good news, hoping that she was in a better mood than a few hours ago. As we pulled into the hospital parking lot, I saw Brooke, the young nurse whose peppy personality rivaled Elena’s at her cheerleading prime, walking out the front door, rifling through her purse for her keys. I hurried out of Garren’s car with the speed of a cheetah, ignoring the pain in my ankles from the high heels.

Brooke greeted me, tying a knitted scarf around her neck. “I was—what happened?” she asked, frowning at my scrapes and bruises.

“I went on this hiking trip and I uh slipped,” I said, unconcerned by the pain in my ribs. “I’m fine. The cell reception was terrible out there so I just got your message now. I wanted to see Will. Technically, it’s after school.”

“Oh, visiting hours ended twenty minutes ago. You can come back in the morning, if you want,” she offered.

“Please, can I see him? I’ve had a really rough day and seeing Will would make it better. Please, please, please?” I begged, bouncing on my heels.

She bit her glossy red lip. “Okay, you get five minutes, that’s it. Come with me.”

Brooke brought me through a side entrance to the hospital. After explaining the situation to the nurses behind the front desk, who gave me sympathetic looks, she allowed me to continue onto Will’s room. I turned the corner to his corridor and Elena appeared by the wall.

“Hey. I didn’t think—” I was cut off by her arms wrapping around my neck. “As much as I like your hugs, I’m kind of on a time limit.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice muffled by my hair. “I shouldn’t have run off before. I’m the worst friend ever. I should’ve been there for the trial. You needed me but I let that psycho get in my head.”

“You don’t have to—it’s my fault too, El,” I admitted, my hand on her lower back. “I should’ve told you about Vivienne. I guess I…it’s complicated.”

“I get why you didn’t. You probably wouldn’t have been friends with her if I wasn’t such a wuss for so many years. I don’t have the best track record when it comes to friends either.” Belmont popped up beside her. “Exhibit A.”

“Can we cut this sappy moment short? What did Chace give you before we left the trial, Byrne?” he asked, nodding towards my hand.

Elena looked at him, strangely. “Why would Chace be at the trial? What happened when I was gone?”

“Long story,” I said, wanting to purge my mind of Parker. “Like I said, time limit. Let’s check on Will and then on the way home, I’ll tell you about the craziness at the trial. It was a train wreck for the most part but I did meet the real Jackson Howler.”

Elena gushed over the picture I had secretly taken of Cullen. Belmont covered his ears to block out our massive fangirling, muttering “Girls are weird” to himself.

“Now I really wish I was there. I bet he did send you those roses,” she said, excitedly. “It’s a total Aiden Cavanaugh move.”

“That’s not a real person but maybe you’re right,” said Belmont, grabbing a bowl of blue jell-o from a food cart. “When you’re not pretending that you have a shot with a guy twice your age, who isn’t a real actor by the way, did either of you consider that he’s the reaper trying to kill us?”

“Pfft, that’s ridiculous.” I snatched the bowl out of his hand, placing it on a tray. “Cullen’s the head of the council.”

“So what? That proves nothing, Byrne…or do you just know?” My nostrils flared at his imitation of Mr. Garren. “Aw, did I hit a nerve?”

“Cullen isn’t the one after us but I don’t think the roses are a coincidence,” I said, walking down the corridor. “I don’t know the council well enough to point fingers…except maybe at Oliver’s dad.”

My mood dropped considerably as we entered Will’s room. He was still hooked up to several machines, the only signs of life his breathing and the beeping of the heart monitor. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I had the selfish desire to use my abilities force him awake but my mother warned me that it could have disastrous consequences. Waking him before he was ready risked the possibility of Will not returning to his normal self.

I gripped his hand through the bed sheet. “You’re going to be okay, Will. The doctors say you’ll be up soon and I need that to be true. There’s so much going on…most of it I can’t tell you, no matter how much I want to, but I promise I’m done hanging around Parker. You don’t have to worry about him corrupting me.”

Beneath the sheet, his index finger tapped against the mattress. Some pauses between each tap were longer than others.

“His finger’s moving. They called you for that?” asked Belmont, thinking it was a little too early for a celebration.

“Will, you’re a genius,” I heard Elena whisper in amazement.

She erased the writing on his chart. Grabbing a black marker, she drew a table with five rows and five columns, writing a letter of the alphabet in each box.

“He’s not just moving his finger,” she explained. “It’s a tap code.”

“A what?” Belmont and I chorused.

“You learn it in the military. It’s used if you’re taken prisoner…for communication. My dad taught it to me when I was little. Will’s dad must’ve taught him too. It’s a pattern. He taps a certain number of times then pauses before he does it again and you use the chart to figure out the letter,” she said, looking at Will’s hand. “Remember that video Baxter showed the first lesson of the year? It was about medical miracles and one of them was a guy in a coma who could still hear everything around him. What if Will can hear you, Tessa? Maybe he’s trying to send you a message.”

She waited until Will began repeating the tapping for the tenth time and wrote down the corresponding letters to the pattern.

“Well, GI Barbie? What does it say?” asked Belmont, curious if it was an actual message or random gibberish.

Elena hesitated before stepping away from the chart, revealing the hidden message. It was a five letter word…a short message yet a giant warning sign in neon lights. To anyone else, it was meaningless but to me, it was like having the air sucked out of the room.

“Damon.”