Reckoning by Laury Falter Page A

took mine and he guided me to my feet. “At the risk of leaving you enticed,” he smirked at the use of my word, “we need to get to bed. You have a calculus test tomorrow.”
    I didn’t hold back my groan. “How is it we are tasked with saving the world…while still being required to maintain a high grade point average?”
    “ Just lucky, I suppose,” he said with a grin.
    We were in the middle of my room by that point. His hands had dropped to my hips, the unspoken desire to simply cast aside Eran’s plan to wait hung in the air. His lopsided grin told me that he was contemplating it too. Only after he leaned in and grazed his lips across my forehead did I know that his better judgment – the one I continually fought against – had won again.
    “ Good night, my love.”
    I sighed deeply, trying to express my dissatisfaction. “Good night.”
    He glanced over his shoulder on the way out of the room, his smoldering stare taking me in until we could see each other no longer.

 
    CHAPTER SIX: SUMMONED
     
    As the rest of the week passed, Eran allowed me to eliminate an additional Fallen One each night, accumulating to a nightly total of four.
    Oddly, I noticed that while I began each hunt with vigor, a powerful desire to annihilate as many enemies as possible, at the end of the night, on our final flight home, there was no closure. There was no peace. I only secretly noted the thickness of the remaining pages of the book containing the Fallen Ones’ dossiers. Although it slimmed each night, it told me there were multitudes left, and I still craved to find them.
    While this constant reminder weighed on me, I went about my classes with relative ease. Having the ability to recall multiple lifetimes on earth allowed me a certain measure of aptitude during tests. Since I’d never particularly struggled with my grades, scores came back relatively the same (although slightly higher at times) without a single mention from my teachers. The only issues I’d encountered were turning in papers on time.
    In fact, Eran and I were hastily finishing a report on the disintegration of a tribe in South America when a knock came to the front door.
    He and I were at the kitchen table with Ezra in her office down the hall. She was the first to address the fact we had a visitor, entering the hallway and heading for the door. Rufus and Felix came down the stairs just as she passed by the landing. Eran and I, however, stayed at the table.
    The door opened to a quiet, firm voice that reminded me of an old Native American saying: Talk softly, carry big stick .
    The instant that voice drifted into the kitchen, Eran’s head, which had fallen back towards the book in front of him, snapped up.
    “ What?” I whispered.
    He shook his head, telling me that it wasn’t safe – or appropriate - to explain now, and continued listening intently.
    Ezra responded kindly to the visitor, as was her usual way. “Please, come in. We have coffee brewed.”
    Heavy footsteps followed shortly after, growing louder until they reached the kitchen door.
    Eran was already facing the entrance, intense concern etched in his features. I had to spin around, however, to get a look at the one of the few guests to ever set foot in our home.
    He towered over the rest of us, Rufus included, having to bend at the waist to avoid hitting the top of the kitchen door frame as he passed by. When he stood to his full height again, his skull barely missed the kitchen ceiling. The rest of him was equally as massive. His jaw, thick and knobby, jutted outward above a neck that rivaled the size of a horse. His arms hung limply beside him, ones that could have been mistaken for tree trunks if they weren’t clothed in billowing cotton sleeves. Two incisions were made in his shirt directly between the shoulder blades and immediately my curiosity grew.
    He was one of us.
    His eyes stood out too, though not for any of the reasons given.
    They were pinned on me, unwavering and