Read Dead Harvest for Free Online Page B

lifetime of beauty, and of happiness, and of sorrow. I see every kindness. Every slight. Every moment that's led them to my grasp. But the souls of those that I collect are just hollow echoes of their better selves – they're occluded by the darkness within. Yours was different. Pure. Unfettered."
      "You make me sound like some kind of saint."
      I smiled. "I wouldn't know anything about that. What I do know is evil changes a person, tainting everything until no memory is untouched. Only in your case, there was no stain."
      "But how can that be? I mean, my family–"
      "Kate, that wasn't your fault."
      "But I have these flashes. These memories. Horrible reminders of the things I've done."
      "I know."
      "Then how could it not be my fault?"
      "Tell me," I said, "earlier, when you were in the bathroom, how did you get out?"
      " You got me out."
      "Yes, but how?"
      Kate's brow furrowed as she struggled to remember. "I was groggy. Sleepy. Then all of the sudden, you were in my head. I threw up. You rolled me over, so I wouldn't choke."
      "Then what happened?"
      "I'd barricaded the door," she replied. "You clawed at it, I think. I don't know – I was so groggy, all I wanted was to sleep."
      "Did you want to do those things?"
      She shook her head. "All I wanted was to die."
      "And yet here you are."
      I let the sentence hang in the air for a minute. She was slow getting there, but eventually, realization dawned. "You're saying someone else was in my head? That they killed my family?"
      "Not someone," I replied. "Some thing."
      "Some thing? "
      "Kate, there aren't many folks like me out there, and we're kept on a pretty short leash. We never take what isn't ours to take; we just do our jobs – no argument, no deviation. Not to mention, I read the news coverage – there's no way someone like me could've mustered the kind of strength they're talking about. No, whatever did that wasn't human."
      "Which leaves what, exactly?"
      "A demon, most likely."
      "A demon."
      "Yes."
      "But that's insane ."
      "Any more insane than what happened in the bathroom? Demonic possession is far from unprecedented, Kate. Most possessions go unnoticed; the body chosen is simply a conveyance, a means to an end – when the task at hand is done, the possessor leaves, and no one's the wiser. Seems like your guy had other plans."
      "How can you be so sure? How can you be sure I didn't just suffer some psychotic break and kill them myself?"
      "Because possession is by nature a violent act. You're forcing an unfamiliar body to succumb to your will. When you possess the living, you're also fighting the impulses of their conscious mind. That kind of struggle is sure to leave a sign."
      Kate's brow furrowed. "What kind of sign?"
      "It's hard to describe. You ever lend out a sweater, and when you get it back, it just doesn't fit right?"
      "I guess."
      "It's kind of like that." Kate seemed to accept that, which was fine by me. She didn't need to know the rest. That whatever had done this had violated her with such fury I'm surprised she'd even survived. That it had gouged and splintered her mind like nails against a coffin lid. That I'd been so terrified by what I'd seen, when I returned to this body, I hadn't stopped trembling for hours. No, she didn't need to know any of that. Which was fine, because I sure as hell wasn't going to tell her.
      Kate said, "So where does that leave us, then? I mean, if I'm innocent, you'll be on your merry way, right? No harm, no foul. And I what – spend the rest of my days in a loony bin? And that's if I seem nuts enough to keep me out of prison. I mean, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, I'm still the one who killed them, right? Forgive me if I sound ungrateful – I'm glad I'm not damned and all, but this still pretty much sucks."
      I sighed. "It's not that simple. You're marked for collection, Kate. And once you're