Death Watchers

More Secrets

The book came sixteen days later, much to Cole's agitation. He called me the second he noticed the box and opened it up on the phone to affirm it was the book. He wouldn't even tell me the title, which seemed odd but I let it slide. He probably thought it wasn't that important.

"I'll start looking through it and call you if I find anything," he said.

"Now hold on—"

But he hung up, the phone clicking before staying silent. I threw my phone against the wall and let out a frustrated roar.

Clay came downstairs, a weird smile on his face. "Was that Cole again?" he teased.

"Yeah," I admitted, only because my cheeks felt too warm.

He laughed. "Well, it's about time you two made up. I thought I was going to have to hear you complaining about him for the rest of my life!"

I sat on my bed and scowled at him. "I wasn't complaining that much."

"'Oh my God, Cole is so stupid!'" Clay mocked, pitching his voice high and flopping his hand around like some girls did when they were talking. "'I swear, if I ever see him again, I'll kill him! I hate him!' 'What's his problem anyway? I never did anything to him.' 'Cole can just go su—'"

"Okay, okay!" I interrupted, laughing lightly. "I get it."

Clay grinned and plopped down next to me on my bed. "Just trying to annoy you as much as you annoyed me. You're lucky Dad doesn't have a shotgun."

"I doubt he would have shot him anyway, Clay. Stop being so dramatic."

His grin widened, revealing all of his teeth. "Not Dad. Me. That boy deserves something for treating you like that." He looked at me pointedly. "I hope you're laying down rules now, letting him know who's boss."

"Seriously, Clayton? Where do you come up with this stuff? It's insane, and no fifteen year old should be saying things like that."

"Well, I'm not a normal fifteen year old. Especially when it comes to my older sister. Honestly, I have more dating experience than you do, and I feel like you're letting Cole walk all over you."

I shook my head. "I'm not—well, I don't try to, but sometimes he just ignores what I say and does it his own way." I shrugged. "But none of it's really related to anything to do with us."

Clay shot me a bland look. "Joc, you have to make him want to keep seeing you. You can't be too controlling but you can't be too...easy either."

"I'm definitely not being easy."

"Good," he exclaimed as he slapped his thighs and stood up. "Because that's one thing I don't want to hear about. Just because you're my sister doesn't mean I need to know everything about your life." He stopped at my door and looked over his shoulder at me. "Just be sure to protect your heart this time, okay? Otherwise I will be forced to invest in an illegally owned shotgun for someone my age."

I laughed. "Okay, Clayton. Your point has been made and it is understood."

"I love you, Joc. Remember that, okay?"

"I love you, too, Clay. And thank you. For everything."

He nodded and headed back upstairs. I listened as he rummaged around in the kitchen for a bit, marveling at how someone as young as him can be so protective of his older sister. It was sweet—don't get me wrong—but it seemed so unlikely considering today's society and how it was every man for himself out there.

Cole called a half hour later, excitably telling me he had found something. Some ancient African tribe had apparently contacted Hermes, the Greek god of travelers, and was bid entry into the river Acheron. The members of his tribe had waited for him for a full century, knowing time worked differently in the Underworld, but he never returned.