Your Soul to Take (Rise of the Fallen) (11 page)

 

 

Chapter 14

 

The
sensation of sunlight streaming through my window and shining on my face woke
me out of my sound sleep. The smell of toast permeated my room and caused my
stomach to growl intensely. I wasn’t used to waking up on a weekday without an
alarm blaring angrily at me for ten to fifteen minutes. I smiled. I loved
holidays. Especially Thanksgiving.

I
hopped out of bed, straightened my jeans, which had twisted around my waist
while I slept, and headed downstairs. Cae was sitting on the couch watching the
parade on TV. Mom was in the kitchen chopping onions and celery, and Dad was
sitting at the kitchenette table with two toasters and six loaves of bread in
front of him. I smiled. Dad always insisted on making the stuffing every year.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him, but it sucked. It was the consistency of
wet concrete and gave me heartburn every year from the sheer amount of spices
he encrusted it with. It did, however,
smell
awesome. Especially when it
was cooking inside the turkey.

My
stomach growled.
Turkey,
I thought and grinned, practically drooling
down the front of my T-shirt. “Mornin’,” I said, yawned, and made my
way to the coffee pot.

“Since
when do you drink coffee?” Mom was looking at me quizzically.

“I
don’t. But it smells good.”

Her
quizzical stare turned into one of utter bewilderment. “It’s cold and
three hours old. It’s not coffee you’re smelling. Your father probably burned
some toast.”

I
shrugged, poured a cup, and popped it in the microwave for a minute. When it
dinged, I pulled it out and sniffed the mug. “Nope, it was the
coffee.”

I
set the mug down and looked at the black liquid. My experience with coffee was
limited to caramel macchiatos and frappés. I had no idea how I liked, or even if
I did like, regular coffee. Mom drank hers with cream and sugar. Dad drank his
black. I shrugged and decided to try it Dad’s way first. I could add non-dairy
powdered creamer and sugar to it, but it would be a bitch taking it out if I
didn’t like it.

I
brought the mug to my lips and ignored the burning sensation. I could take a
fireball to the face and not get scorched. I doubted a little hot coffee would
hurt me. I gulped some of it in my mouth and screeched like a little girl when
it scalded my tongue. I rubbed it against the roof of my mouth until sensation
returned.

“Careful,
honey. It’s probably hot.”

I
managed to refrain giving my mom a scathing look for winning the understatement
of the year award. “Gee, thanks, Mom.”

“Don’t
get pissy with me, mister. You’re the dummy who decided to gulp scalding hot
coffee.”

I
sighed. I hated it when she was right. “I know.” I went to go sit
next to Cae, snagging a piece of toast from Dad’s table as I walked by.

“Hey.
At least put some butter on it, you thief.”

“Can’t
have butter, Dad.” I was going to have to stencil it on their arms or
something. With a tattoo gun.

“Is
Jessie coming for dinner?” Mom had to yell over the sound of the
announcers giving their float by float commentary on the television.

“No.
She and her dad have a long time tradition of ordering Chinese food and
watching movies. I told you that last week.”

“Oh,
yeah. Sorry. I forgot.”

“It’s
okay.”

“What
about Claire?”

I
could hear the apprehension in her voice. I don’t think my mom was truly
convinced that nothing was going on between her and I. “I didn’t ask
her.”

“Connor
Ryan, I raised you with better manners than that. You go call her this instant.
Tell her to bring her folks, too.”

My
mother was one of those women who lived under the assumption that they had to
make enough food to feed several small armies during the holidays.
Unfortunately, every year when the holiday finally did come, she panicked about
the amount of food she made and always extended last minute invitations to the
surrounding neighborhoods, friends, friends of friends, enemies, school
janitors, or anybody else she could find to help eat two twenty-pound turkeys.
She never understood the concept of leftovers. “Okay, Mom,” I said
and pulled out my phone.

I
sent her a simple text.
You’re coming for dinner. Be here at 3
.

She
replied with a simple,
K
.

“She’s
coming,” I hollered over my shoulder.

“Mom
made me invite Elizabeth, too,” Cae whispered quietly.

“Isn’t
she eating with her parents?”

“They’re
eating at two. Her mom is the worst cook on the planet, so she jumped at the
opportunity.”

“How
are the two of you doing?”

Cae
looked over at me and I watched a single tear leak from her eye. She shook her
head and I reached over and patted her arm. “I know,” I said simply.

She
nodded. “The parade this year sucks. It’s the same floats from last year
and they’ve had like twenty country performers.”

I
laughed. If there was one thing Cae hated more in this world than me, it was
country music. I couldn’t blame her. “Joy.”

The
day rolled by pretty quickly. The smells of turkey, stuffing, gravy, and the
other twenty side dishes Mom made filled the house and made my stomach rumble.
We didn’t even eat lunch to keep our stomachs empty for dinner. At least we
were eating early.

Clarisse
showed up at exactly three. I was kind of shocked. She was never on time for
anything. Except school. Sometimes. “Hey, worm, thanks for the
invite,” she said and strolled through the door carrying a bottle of wine.
I followed her into the kitchen where she hugged Mom and handed her the bottle.
“My parents told me to tell you that they were sorry they couldn’t make
it, but to give you that for taking care of me. Mom’s working at the bowling
alley and Dad is on duty this weekend. Hopefully nobody will burn their house
down.”

I
laughed quietly. Clarisse had told my parents that
her
parents were a
bartender and a fireman. It was actually kind of clever since the only things
open on Thanksgiving were the bowling alley and apartment fires.

“Awww.
What a shame they had to work,” Mom said and hugged Clarisse again.

“It’s
okay. I’m used to it.”

“Well,
you’re always welcome here, Claire,” Mom continued. “And if you ever
need a place to stay, we can put Connor on the couch.”

“Wouldn’t
he be more comfortable on the porch?”

Mom
started laughing, which only confirmed my suspicions that they were
both
evil. “Hardy har har,” I said lamely and shot Clarisse the bird when
Mom wasn’t looking.

Dad
saw me though, and cleared his throat. I gave him a sheepish grin. We left them
to finish cooking the meal and went to sat on the couch. Cae saw Claire and got
up to sit in the big recliner that was usually occupied for long stretches of
time by my father. Why she thought I would want to sit by Clarisse, I had no
idea.

“Hi,
Claire.”

“Whattup,
squirt. How you doing?” She sounded light-hearted, but I saw the concern
on her face as she got closer to my sister.

“Hangin’
in there.”

Clarisse
gave her a smile and patted her head as she took the spot on the couch closest
to my sister. That was good. They could chat about girl things while I watched
the Somethingorother Dog Show. I didn’t
want
to watch it; it was another
Sullivan Family Tradition. It never ceased to amaze me how many stupid things
we did on a daily basis in the name of tradition.

“What
time are we eating? I’m starving and the house smells amazing.”

“In
an hour. We always eat at four.”

“What
have you been doing all day?”

“Pretty
much sitting on the couch watching television. I went up to my room and played
video games and contemplated the meaning of life for a while, but that got
boring, too. What about you?”

“I
organized my closets, took a shower, and did my nails.”

“Sounds
like you had even more fun than I did.”

“Oh,
yeah. Loads.”

We
were saved from having to converse further by the sound of the doorbell.
“I’ll get it,” Cae said from her spot. “It’s probably Liz.”

“Anything
else new?” I could tell by her whispered voice that she didn’t mean
anything in the mundane world.

“No.
Just training with Raven.”

“You
asked her didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re
such an idiot. How did that work out for you?”

“Very
well, actually. She explained that she didn’t do it.”

“And
you believe
her
but not me?”

“She’s
a little more convincing than you are.”

“True.
She’s scary.”

“Very,”
I added and turned to see Liz and Cae greeting Mom and Dad.

“Since
everybody is here, let’s eat,” Mom called to Clarisse and me.

I
stood first and offered Clarisse my hand to help her up. She gave it a funny
look before taking it and pulling herself to her feet.

“I’m
not that old,” she said.

“I
know, but your walker is in the other room and I didn’t want you to fall
without your life alert necklace.”

“That’s
so sweet!” She leaned in, wrapped me up in a hug, and promptly stomped on
my foot.

I
could actually hear the bones crunch inside my Airwalks. “
Ouch!

“Shut
up. You deserved that one,” she said and helped me into the kitchen.

“What’s
wrong, Connor?” Mom rushed over when she saw my limp.

“He
accidentally bit his foot,” Clarisse added helpfully.

“Oh,
was it in his mouth again?”

“Up
to the ankle.”

“Well
hobble over to the dinner table, sweetie,” Mom said to me without an inch
of compassion.

We
sat as Mom and Cae started shuffling dishes full of steaming food and set it
all over the table while Dad stood in front of his chair and carved the turkey
with his usual ineptness. By the time he was done, it looked like someone had
ripped the carcass apart with their hands while the bird was still alive. The
only thing missing was the feathers and blood.

It
did however, smell wonderful and I found myself drooling, waiting to get my
hands on its succulent flesh. My stomach made weird noises that sounded vaguely
like whale-song. I looked away from the turkey to see everyone had stopped what
they were doing to stare at me.

I
blushed. “Sorry. Hungry.”

Mom
rolled her eyes and the rest of them laughed. Dad tossed me a wing in sympathy.
I started gnawing on it while the rest of dinner was brought out. Soon enough,
everyone stood and joined hands. Clarisse looked at me quizzically. I mouthed
the word
grace
.

She
nodded in understanding and took my hand. Dad mumbled a few words about being
thankful and bounties. I didn’t really pay attention. I did, however, feel sort
of uncomfortable during the ordeal. I made another checkmark in my mental
“what’s weird about being a demon” list. It was a good thing my
parents weren’t overly religious. I might have burst into flames or something.
I looked over at Clarisse. She looked just as uncomfortable as I did. I think I
even saw a bead of sweat on her otherwise perfect forehead.

Dishes
were passed and plates were filled. We had just settled down to chow when the
doorbell went off again. Mom looked up in surprise. “I wonder who that
is,” she said and stood to answer it.

“I’ll
get it Mom. You eat,” I said and made my way to the front door.

I
opened it. My girlfriend stood there looking very embarrassed. “Hi Connor.
Is that offer for dinner still open?”

“Yes!
Come in. What happened?”

“I
called your phone but you didn’t answer. Dad had something come up and had to
cancel dinner and movies. You sure it’s not too much trouble?”

I
wrapped my arms around her and gave her a kiss. “Never. Come on,” I
said and took her hand and dragged her into the dining room.

Everybody
seemed surprised and happy to see Jess. She had that effect on people.
Everybody but Clarisse. I caught the look she was giving Jessie and it wasn’t
exactly what I would call “friendly.”

Mom
immediately got up and got her a plate. Dad dragged in a chair from the
kitchenette set and made room between him and me. Jessie took off her coat and
draped it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“What
do you want to drink, sweetie?” Mom opened the fridge and peered inside.
“We have coke, milk, water, or juice.”

“Water
is fine, Mrs. Sullivan. Sorry for the lack of notice. Dad had something come
up.”

“Don’t
be silly. We’re glad to have you. Now maybe Mr. Mopeypants can enjoy his dinner
without sulking.”

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