Read Katie's Hellion (Rhyn Trilogy, Book One) Page 6

  Katie awoke and readied herself for the world, convinced everything had been a nightmare caused by exhaustion. Her conviction wilted as she stepped from her room into the living room to find the black-clad death dealer seated in an armchair, facing the door as if on guard, with a lethal black sword across his lap. He’d laid his trench over the couch, though he still wore boots and gloves.

  "I was hoping you’d be gone."

  His gaze settled on her, and she’d wished she’d never spoken. She hid in the kitchen, cold inside once again. Her hands shook as she made tea. The glitter and construction paper picture was back on the fridge with no sign that any fairies had emerged from its depths. She breathed deeply, struggling to remain in control when all she wanted to do was run for the nearest psych ward and check herself in.

  She turned and jumped.

  "God, I can’t take this! You, out!" she belted at the death dealer, who leaned his hip against the counter and managed to fill up the entrance to the kitchen.

  He obeyed, and she gave a growl of frustration. She followed, intent on having her tea by the window as she did every morning.

  "Your shit is everywhere!" she snapped. "And what in the name of everything holy are you doing with a sword? Is that even legal?"

  “As legal as underage drinking,” he replied, though he moved the sword off her favorite chair and placed it on the trench stretched across her couch. He sat with his hands on his thighs and his eyes straight ahead, like a statue chiseled in Hell itself. He was perfectly still, and she tried to concentrate on her tea.

  "This is impossible."

  She marched to her bathroom and yanked out the three prescription pill bottles she’d found in her cabinet, reading the labels. She’d done research on the drugs; they were antipsychotics and anti-anxiety pills. She grabbed a second bottle and went to the kitchen for water, dumping out two of each into one hand. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, freezing when a black-gloved hand clamped around her wrist. She looked up at the silent shadow, whose chiseled features were unreadable. He swept up the pills and crushed them in his hand, then released the powder into the sink. He dumped the rest in the garbage disposal and turned it on, returning a few minutes later with the other bottles.

  Too afraid to challenge him, she watched him destroy everything. He gave no explanation and headed toward her bedroom. She bit back an order to leave her stuff alone but stopped herself, watching him go through her medicine cabinet for any additional drugs. Satisfied there was nothing left, he tore her prescriptions to bits before returning to the chair and stilling again into a statue.

  The living room started to spin and she sat, forcing herself to breathe deeply.

  "We can talk." His stoic offer made laughter bubble within her.

  "I don’t want to talk! I want my life back!"

  "This is your life."

  "Absolutely not!” she snapped. “I’m not psychotic, I didn’t have amnesia yesterday, I’ve never had a son! I don’t care what anyone says, not Dr. Williams, not my sister, not you!"

  "You weren't supposed to remember anything before Toby appeared in your life," he said.

  "What're you talking about?"

  He looked at her, a penetrating stare that made her again regret drawing his attention. She couldn’t read his face. He rose and, with methodical patience, swirled the trench around him, placed the sword on the inside with an array of other weaponry and stalked to the door.

  All it took was a hissy fit to get rid of him. The door closed behind him. She sagged into the depths of her chair.

  "Mama, do I have to go to school today?" Toby called.

  She ground her teeth, on the verge of throwing her cup at the wall before her.