The Hidden (32 page)

… a worthy wight of the name of Ichabod Crane, who sojourned … in Sleepy Hollow … He was tall, but exceedingly lank … with huge ears, large green glassy eyes …

—“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

B
efore I could answer, Vincent went over to the DVD player and grabbed the remote. Returning to me, he propped both of his outstretched feet across my lap. With a grimace I shoved his feet off. “I’m not your footrest. Thanks.”

My own feet were starting to ache, and I massaged the skin that was pulled tight at the ankles by the zip tie. “Can you please cut these off me?”

“Let me think about it. … No.”

He pressed
PLAY
, and a ball of fire appeared on the screen. Two guys ran out of a building, each one holding a shotgun.
“I saw this one already,” he said. “Dean’s going straight to hell for this. Or wait. It might be Sam this time. I can’t keep them straight.”

I didn’t want to beg him. But the pain was heading toward unbearable. “Vincent, please,” I said. “Cut these off of me?”

“What will you give me?” He cocked his head and slowly slid his eyes down my body. Every nerve ending shrank back, and my skin felt like it wanted to run away screaming. What exactly was I going to have to do to earn my freedom?

“I, uh … I …” I swallowed loudly.

“Well?”

My feet could fall off. I’d crawl to the door if I had too.

Vincent cocked an ear toward me, waiting.

“I have to use the bathroom,” I said instead.

“I’ll walk you.” He stood up and offered a hand. I ignored it at first.

“You have five seconds to make up your mind,” he told me. “Or else you won’t be going until tomorrow morning.”

Reluctantly I took it and hobbled to my feet. Trying to take a step was virtually impossible, and I wobbled wildly. “I can’t do it,” I said. “I need my feet.”

Vincent gave me a look of disdain.

“I can pee right here on the floor if you want,” I offered.

He pulled out his knife again and slit the tie. My feet sprang apart, and I uttered a sigh of relief. That relief was short lived, though, because he clamped an arm down on my wrist and grabbed hold.

Forcefully, he directed me over to the bathroom and shoved me into it. I turned on the water to make him think I was washing my hands, and sized up the small window over the tub.

Too small.

Vincent banged on the door. “Hurry
up
. I’m
waiting
.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I yelled back.

Gripping the edges of the sink, I stared into the mirror and turned my head to look at my jaw. A faint yellow and pink stain was there, the beginning of a bruise starting to form. I touched it and hissed as pain went screaming through my head again.
Time for plan B, Abbey. You need to get out of here.

The doorknob rattled. “Open up. Or I’m breaking it down. Then any peeing you want to do really will be in front of me.”

I turned the water off and opened the door. Vincent grabbed my arm again and walked me back to the couch. Turning myself completely away from him, I scooted down closer to the other end and curled up into a ball. How long would it take for someone to find me?

“Why did you do it?” I said softly, wondering how much I could get out of him.

“Do what?”

“Stalk me. Leave things in my locker. Visit my parents dressed like a priest. And then … just disappear. Why did you do it?”

He looked excited. “Did you like the fingernails? I thought they were a nice touch. And that perfume?
Very
expensive. The priest outfit was my personal favorite. Hard to move in, though. It restricted the blood flow.” He grinned at me as I shot him a
You’re crazy
look. “Oh, come on. I had to do
something
to keep myself occupied. I was killing time.”

“Killing time until what?”

“Until this, of course. You’re a little thick, aren’t you?”

I sat up. “What do you mean?”

“They didn’t tell you? I bet that was Sophiel’s idea. She’s such a bitch.”

“Why don’t
you
tell me?”

“Has your lover boy been experiencing any strange symptoms lately? Maybe losing his ability to
touch
?” He held up one finger. “Or he suddenly likes to take extra-long naps?”

I considered lying to him, saying no, those things had never happened. But other than Uri, he seemed to be the only Revenant willing to tell me anything. “Yes. Why?”

“And you.” He pointed at me. “You don’t react the same way to the Revs anymore, do you? No more burning smell or tasting ash?”

I shook my head. “What does all of that mean?” My voice came out in a whisper.

“It means that your little Revenant buddies have been lying to you. I’d wager from the very beginning.” He seemed absolutely delighted. “Do you even know what November third is?”

“No.”

“It’s the reason why you’re here. The reason why your boy toy’s been losing his ability to touch and getting trapped in the dark sleep so often. It’s why you don’t react the same way to the Revenants. Because it’s getting closer. It’s almost time.”

I waited for him to tell me. It was obvious that was what he wanted to do.

“D-day,” Vincent said.

“That’s not true,” I replied. “There is no exact date. The Revenants haven’t figured out when or how I’ll die.”

“Not yours. … His.” Vincent smirked.

“But how can that be? Caspian already died. I’ve been to his grave.”

“Did you really think that Casper the Friendly Ghost was going to stick around forever? Stay with you, in this world,
so you could bump uglies once a year?” He gave me a look of annoyance.

I tried as hard as I could not to let my cheeks flush, but I don’t think I was successful. “How can Caspian die
again
?” I asked, desperate not to let the conversation get sidetracked.

“The short answer is, you.”

“I’m going to kill him?”

Vincent roared with laughter, and then his face went completely still. “No, you’ll be right here with me. But without you Caspian can’t stay. As of midnight November third, he no longer exists.”

“How can I stop that from happening? How do I complete him?”

“You die.”

“And are you”—I gulped—“going to be the one to kill me?”

“No, no, no.” Vincent patted me on the head. “Remember? We already had this conversation. In your bedroom? I want to keep you
alive
.”

“But why? I don’t understand. Why would you want to keep me alive?”

“Because once you’re dead, you can complete him.”

This was like a vicious circle without answers. “Why do you care whether or not I complete him?” I said. “If you’re a Revenant,
then you’ve helped other Shades before. Why not us?”

He crossed one leg over his knee. “It all goes back to the original Revenants. Rumor has it that God and the devil made a deal and chose six representatives of heaven and six representatives of hell to help them sort out the whole reaping/death business. The representatives were split into teams of two, one angel half, one demon half. Or one light, one dark. One yin, one yang … yadda, yadda, yadda. You get the idea. Over time they were designated to help one group of souls in particular cross over—Shades and their other halves. With me so far?”

“Yes.”

“Good!” He clapped his hands together. “Eventually the six teams had been around for so long—thousands of years, after all—that they were ready to move on. Shades, the only humans allowed to stay on Earth after their deaths, were chosen to take their place. And these Shades were given a name.” He looked at me like he was giving me a hint. “Who do you know that works in teams of two? One good, one bad … Well, generally speaking.”

“Teams of two … The Revenants?”

“And the bonus round goes to …!” He touched his nose and pointed to me. “Yes, the Revenants.”

“Wait a minute. … So you’re telling me that Revenants
replaced the original angel-demon teams, and all Revenants were once Shades? As in, human?”

“Ding, ding, ding! Give that girl a prize!” He clapped again.

I stared at him. “
You
were once human!”

“Don’t act so shocked. Jesus.”

My mind was spinning. “Is that why none of the others knew what to do?” I said. “Because you were supposed to be my Revenant? One of the ones to help me cross over?”

He leaned back and placed both hands behind his head. His smile said it all.

My fingers dug into the couch, and I found myself clenching the fabric. “Why me?” I said through gritted teeth. “What was so special about me and Caspian that you decided you didn’t want to do your job anymore? Tell me, Vincent Drake. What was so
goddamned important
that you couldn’t just let us alone?”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me. This is
all about me
. Do you know what it’s like to be immortal? To not have responsibilities. Or bills. No money problems, or wondering where your next meal is going to come from?” He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for just a moment. “It’s fucking awesome. That’s what it is.”

He moved in close and put his face inches away from mine.
“I hold the fate of mortals in my hands. Each and every time I come to Earth,
I
am responsible for their lives and their deaths.” He smiled at me. A crazy, beautiful smile. “I like that feeling. And I don’t want it to end. Simple as that.”

“But why would it end? Aren’t you guys the new teams, or whatever? Taking the place of the angels and demons?”

“We aren’t the original Revenants, you idiot. There haven’t been many of us, but there have been others. You get a certain amount of time to do your job, and then you get replaced by the next round of Shades. And those Shades just so happen to be here. Known as Nikolas Degenhart and Katrina Van Tassel, of the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.”

I rubbed my eyelids. Trying to stuff all of this new information into my brain was making my head spin. “So … what? You did all of this because you’re going to lose your
job
?”

“It’s not that simple,” he exploded. “It’s
never
that simple. While you’re a Shade, you live forever, tied to one place. Shades are gatekeepers of sacred spaces. You know, cemeteries, burial grounds, ancient worship mounds?” I nodded, because that seemed to be what he wanted me to do. “When you become a Revenant, you live forever all over the world. When you stop being a Revenant, you move on.”

“Where do you go?”

“I don’t know. But wherever it is, you don’t come back. And that’s not going to be me.”

“How do you know which Revenants are going to move on?”

“No one knows. That’s the problem.”

“Then how did
you
know?” I asked.

His voice turned deceptively calm. “Because I’m the oldest. I’ve been around the longest. And because I had a little help.”

Sitting up, he took off the T-shirt he was wearing and exposed his chest. It was covered in a mass of black tattoos. They were small squiggly symbols, repeated over and over again, on top of one another. I couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “You had help from a
tattoo artist
?”

He waited until my laughter died, then tossed his shirt aside. “Done yet?” There was something in his tone that told me to stop.

“Yes,” I said meekly.

“These are protection spells.” He pointed to one section. “They keep me hidden from the others. The shaman who did these knows what we are, and he told me what would happen in the Hollow. That it was time for two new Revenants, and I’d be the one moving on. I can’t let that happen.”

“Which is why you don’t want me to complete Caspian.”

Vincent nodded. “If you two aren’t completed, then the other two have to stay. There’s a balance to everything. If I can’t stop it, then I
will
delay it.”

“So how does Kristen play into all of this? How could you think she was Caspian’s other half?”

He looked annoyed with himself. “I don’t know how I got
that
one wrong. I did all the research on Caspian Vander—raised in West Virginia, moved to White Plains, his mother ran out on him when he was a little baby, he has the connection to Sleepy Hollow … blah, blah, blah. Maybe it was my preference for redheads clouding my judgment.”

“‘Connection to Sleepy Hollow’?” I gave him a confused look. “What do you mean by that?”

“His connection. It’s in his blood. Literally. He’s a descendant of Ichabod Crane.”

“A descendent of …?
What?
”

“The green eyes?” He gestured to his face. “You’ve read ‘The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,’ right? Ichabod Crane is described as having green eyes. The legend was true. He was a real person, and he had a bunch of kids. Caspian is one of his great-great-great-great-grandkids. Don’t quote me on that number of ‘great’s, though.”

Was it true?
Could
it be true? Caspian did have unusual green eyes, and he’d told me more than once about the pull he’d felt toward Sleepy Hollow. Was this another way we were connected? Me, with my love of the town and Washington Irving, and him through an actual bloodline tie?

What are the odds?

Vincent opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupted him.

“Damn it.” He pointed at me. “
You
. Stay here. I mean it. I’m going to see who that is.”

I glanced over at the fireplace as Vincent got up and moved to the front door. There I spotted my opportunity—a half-burned log sticking out of the fire. When he turned his back, I saw my chance.

And I took it.