My Soul to Steal

12

THE NIGHT WAS COLD, and I hadn’t brought a jacket. I hadn’t thought much beyond making the reaper turn around while I changed out of my pajamas. “So, how do we…?”

“Get in without being seen?” Tod finished for me, and I nodded. I’d sworn Alec to secrecy as I snuck out the kitchen door, then had to walk all the way so my dad wouldn’t hear me start my car. And finally Tod and I stood in front of Nash’s house, staring at it in the dark. “That’s the fun part. I hope.”

“Huh?” I glanced at the reaper and he gave a little shrug, but the uncertain gesture made me nervous. “What am I missing?”

“I’ve only done this a couple of times. I don’t exactly have anyone to practice on—”

“Practice on?” I interrupted, but he spoke over me.

“—but you only have to remember a couple of things.”

“What things?” I frowned up at him and found his grin highlighted by the streetlight across the road. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to blink into Nash’s room. With you.”

“Is that even possible?” And if so, why hadn’t he ever told us? We could have saved so much time and gas money!

“Yeah. But I’m not exactly an expert yet. I can only take one person, and I can’t go very far.”

“Which is why we had to travel the pedestrian route?”

“Yeah.” His grin widened. “Also, I don’t have enough strength—or maybe not enough experience—to keep you invisible and inaudible at the same time. So…breathe very softly and don’t talk.”

“Tod! I can’t go in there and spy on Nash! He’ll hear us, then it’ll get messy, and he’ll never trust either of us again!”

His brows rose, and the streetlight glittered off his blue eyes. “You’re worried about him trusting us?”

Okay, obviously that would be the kettle shouting at a couple of black pots, but there was enough distrust in our fractured relationship already.

The real problem wasn’t the possibility that Nash might discover us, but the fact that I’d let Tod talk me into spying on him in the first place. However, since we were already playing fast and loose with moral constraints, I saw no reason to make things worse by getting caught.

“What do I have to do?”

“Just take my hand and be quiet. And don’t let go, or you’ll suddenly appear in the middle of his room, and then there will be drama. And I hate drama.”

“Noted.”

“You ready?”

“No.” I shook my head for emphasis, shivering from the cold. “But let’s go before my teeth start chattering.” There was no way I could keep them from hearing that.

He took my hand, and for a moment I could only watch him, getting used to the unfamiliar feel of his warm, dry palm against mine. His fingers wrapped around mine loosely, then squeezed, and I thought I saw the slightest swirling of color in his eyes.

My pulse leaped and I blinked, breaking eye contact, then blinked again, confused by what I’d almost seen.

Tod stared at me for just a second longer, then shook his head, and his ironic grin was back. “Okay, wish me luck!”

“Wish you luck!” I gaped at him.

“Just kidding.” He put one finger against his lips in the universal signal for “shhhh!” In the next instant, my stomach seemed to drop right out of my body, like it used to on the swings, when I was a kid.

I closed my eyes. An instant later, when my stomach settled, I opened my eyes to see Nash’s room coming into focus around us. My mouth fell open, and I would have gasped at the eerie settling feeling throughout my body, but Tod squeezed my hand again, a silent reminder to be quiet.

And that’s when my ears popped, and suddenly the world had sound again.

“…that time it started pouring, two blocks from your house?” Sabine asked, and Nash laughed. They lay side by side on his bed, on their stomachs, propped up on their elbows with their sock feet resting on his pillows. A photo album lay open in front of them at the foot of the bed, and Nash turned a clear plastic page as he answered.

“Too bad you don’t have pictures of that! We were so soaked my shoes squished for a day.”

“Remember how we got warm?” Sabine asked, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. Nash turned to look at her, and their mouths were inches apart.

I held my breath, and Tod’s hand tightened around mine again, another silent warning. But as my teeth ground together, I knew that if he kissed her, I wouldn’t be able to quiet my anger and betrayal. Not that it would matter, if that happened. Me and Tod suddenly appearing in Nash’s bedroom while he made out with his ex would be the least of Nash’s problems.

But he didn’t kiss her. Nash only grinned, then stared down at the photo album, the slight ruddiness in his cheeks the only sign that the memory still affected him.

I should have been happy. I should have been giddy with relief to see him actually pass up an opportunity most guys would have pounced on. But instead of relief, I swallowed a bitter, acrid taste on the back of my tongue. The memory—whatever they’d done that day, when they were soaked, cold, and in love—still affected him. Because he hadn’t sold it to Avari for another dose of poisoned air. He’d kept the emotional impact of his memories of Sabine intact, and gutted his memories of me instead.

“Like I could forget,” Nash said, oblivious to both my presence and my pain. He flipped another page and she watched him, rather than the pictures.

“Would you, if you could? Forget?” she added, when he looked confused. “Would you forget about me?”

His eyes widened, and I could see the slow churning in them, even from across the room. “No. I wouldn’t forget you, or a single moment we spent together, Sabine. You were my first everything, and that still means something, even now that everything’s changed. It always will.”

Her smile looked painful, like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Did you try to find me, Nash?” she asked at last, after he’d flipped several more pages in silence, and I realized with surprise bordering on amazement that she sounded…bruised. Lost. “Did you even look for me, after you left?”

Nash closed the album and sat up, while she rolled onto her back, staring up at him. “Yeah. I tried to call you at Holser House, to tell you we were moving, but they wouldn’t let me through. They wouldn’t even take a message.”

She nodded, and her hair fell to hang down the side of his bed. “You weren’t on my approved calls list, and I lost all my privileges when they found the cell you gave me.”

“I tried calling the Harpers after that, but they didn’t know anything about your new foster home. The school said you’d transferred, but wouldn’t tell me where. And the internet didn’t seem to know you even existed.”

“Yeah, it took me a while to find you, too.” She closed her eyes and let her head roll to one side. “I was stupid to think you’d wait for me.”

“Bina…” Nash looked like she’d just ripped out his heart and shown it to him, still beating, and as badly as I wanted to hate her, I found anger harder to cling to in that moment than ever before. She really was his first everything—including his first broken heart.

“Do you ever wonder what would have happened?” she asked, rolling onto her side to face him again. “If you’d never left? If I hadn’t gotten arrested again?”

“I…” Nash exhaled heavily, and I hated the confliction I read in the slow twist of green in his irises. “Yeah, I do. But what-ifs are pointless, Bina. It can’t be like it was then. Not anymore.”

“It could be.” She reached up to brush a chunk of thick brown hair from his forehead, and I bit my lip to keep from protesting. I didn’t want her to touch him. Ever.

“No.” He took her wrist before she could touch his hair again. “It’s different now.”

“Because of her,” Sabine said, staring straight into his eyes. Nash nodded and let go of her. “She thinks I killed those teachers.”

“I know.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I know you better than that. But you haven’t exactly given her a reason to trust you.”

Sabine frowned and sat up facing him. “I’ve never lied to her. And I don’t care if she trusts me.”

Nash set the album on his pillow. “Yes, you do. I’m not going to be enough, Sabine. You need more than one friend.”

She shook her head, and dark hair fell over her cheek. “You’re all I need.”

I’d never seen her look so vulnerable. In fact, I’d never seen her look anything short of antagonistic, but she was obviously a completely different person with Nash. I didn’t know whether to be relieved that she had a more human side, or pissed off that that side only emerged when she was alone with my boyfriend.

“No,” he said. “I was all you had back then. You never had a real shot at any other relationship because you couldn’t control yourself. But you can now.”

“Shut up. You’re making me sound needy just to piss me off.”

“I’m telling the truth.” He grinned. “Pissing you off is a bonus.”

“Oh, you wanna see me mad?” Sabine returned his smile and shoved him back onto the mattress, then threw one leg over him, straddling him. My heart beat so hard it bruised my chest. I tried to pull away from Tod, but he held my hand tight and shook his head, like the ghost of relationships past, demanding I only watch.

Next, would we float through the open window?

Sabine stared down at him, her long hair half hiding them both. “You forget what happens when I lose my temper?” But from the way she was watching him, all flashing eyes and sly smile, I got the feeling she had a rather unconventional, hands-on approach to anger management.

“I haven’t forgotten anything, Bina.” Nash wrapped his hands around her wrists and gently pushed her back onto her side of the bed. “Including Kaylee. This isn’t gonna work if you can’t rein it in.”

“This is only gonna work if I don’t rein it in.”

“I’m serious.” Nash rolled onto his side, propped up on one elbow. “You should give Kaylee a chance. She knows what you are. She could be a good friend, if you’d let her. If you’d stop trying to scare the shit out of her every time you see her.”

Um…no, I could not be a good friend to a vengeful Nightmare. Had he lost his mind?

Sabine snorted. She actually snorted and somehow made it look endearing. “I don’t have to try to scare her. All I have to do is let go. The hard part is not scaring the shit out of everyone else. That took a lot of practice.”

I shot Tod a questioning glance. How much more of this do I need to see?

He just tossed his head toward the bed, where Sabine watched Nash like he was the only flicker of light in a very dark place.

Nash looked at Sabine like she was some complicated puzzle he was trying to solve, and I knew that look. He’d looked at me that way the first time he saw me sing for someone’s soul, before I knew I was a bean sidhe. He’d looked at me like that when I was the damsel he felt honor-bound to save from distress, whether I needed saving or not. I used to love that look.

Now I hated it.

“Sabine,” he said finally, when she showed no sign of breaking what was obviously a very comfortable silence. “Read me.”

“What?” She frowned, looking genuinely uncomfortable for the first time since Tod and I had entered the room. “No.”

“I want you to read my fear. For real. Go deep and take a look at what I’m really afraid of.”

Her brows furrowed over dark eyes. “Why?” Suspicion was thick in her voice now.

“I think it’ll help you understand.”

“What if I don’t want to understand?”

He leaned closer, looking right into her eyes. “Then you’re a coward, and I’m ashamed of you.”

Anger, ripe and bitter, passed over Sabine’s fine features and her frown deepened. “Now you’re trying to piss me off.”

“I’m throwing down a challenge. You used to love a challenge. Has that changed?”

A new smile crawled over her lips, slow and dark, like the gleam in her eyes. “Nothing’s changed. That’s what I keep trying to tell you.”

“Then read me.”

Sabine sat up, and Nash pushed himself upright to face her. “You want me to make it fun? Like we used to?”

I glanced at Tod again. How could having his worst fear read possibly be fun? But the reaper didn’t even look at me.

“Sabine…” Nash said, a very familiar warning in his voice.

She grinned, trying to make light of it, but mostly failing. “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

But something told me I would be happy to blame her—if I had any clue what she was talking about.

“Fine. Give me your hand.”

Nash held out his hand like he’d shake hers, but instead of a formal hold, Sabine threaded her fingers between his and held their merged grip between them, knuckles pointed toward the ceiling.

I thought they’d close their eyes, but instead, Sabine leaned closer to him, like she was trying to see through his pupils and out the back of his head. For several seconds, they stayed just like that. Nash blinked several times, but the mara’s gaze was unwavering.

However, her hand was not. By the time she finally blinked and he closed his eyes, her hand was shaking against his. She pulled her fingers from his and wiped her palm on her pants, like their shared sweat was contaminated by the fear of whatever she’d read inside him.

“What did you see?” he asked, and this time he was the steady one.

“Kaylee…” she whispered, and I nearly pulled my hand from Tod’s in surprise.

Nash was afraid of me?

“You’re scared of losing her.” Sabine dropped her gaze, like it hurt too much to look at him. “You’re terrified of it. You dream about it, because that’s what he told you would happen. That demon. He said you’d lose her. That you weren’t good enough for her now. That you don’t deserve her. And you believe it. Your worst fear is that you’re not good enough for Kaylee. And that she knows it.”

My lips opened, and the breath I hadn’t known I was holding slipped silently into the room.

I glanced at Tod, and he nodded. That’s what he’d wanted me to see. Or at least something like that. Yet he didn’t look happy.

“That doesn’t make it any easier, you know,” Sabine said. She scooted away from him, but seemed unwilling to get off the bed. “Knowing that.”

“No. I’m guessing that makes it harder. But it’s the truth, and the truth isn’t always easy.”

Sabine rolled her eyes. “What are you now, the Zen master? Did Kaylee tell you that?”

“Not in so many words. But you can usually tell what she’s thinking just by watching her.”

No, you can’t! I frowned and felt my cheeks color, and suddenly I was extraglad they couldn’t see us.

“Yeah, that whole subliminal ‘go away and die’ message comes through loud and clear.” Sabine glanced around the room, and her gaze seemed to linger in the corner where we stood. I knew she couldn’t see us, but her eyes creeped me out, anyway.

I’d seen enough. They were just talking now, and she obviously wasn’t going to charm him out of his clothes. Or out of me. At least for the night.

Let’s go, I mouthed silently to Tod, and that time he nodded. He closed his eyes, and I took that as my signal to do the same.

After another stomach-pitching second of existing nowhere, I felt ground beneath my feet and cold air on my cheeks. I opened my eyes to find us in front of Nash’s house again, and as soon as I was sure I wasn’t going to fall over from disorientation, I let go of Tod’s hand. And immediately missed the warmth.

“Well, that was…interesting.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, and Tod glanced at me in surprise, like I’d ripped the words off his own tongue. Then he smiled.

“Yeah, it…”

“I mean, how weird that they spent most of the time talking about me. I guess that should make me feel better, huh?”

His brow furrowed like he wasn’t following my logic, and he glanced over his shoulder at the house, as if that would clear it up. “Oh. Yeah.” Then he smiled and said, “I have a feeling they do that a lot. So…does it make you feel better?”

“Yes, and no.” I started walking toward the street, and Tod matched my stride.

“Why no?”

I hesitated. “Because seeing her like that—with him—makes it a little harder to believe she’s a murderer.” Not impossible. But definitely harder.

Tod shrugged. “So maybe she’s not.”

I frowned up at him. “She has to be. Who else could it be?” He opened his mouth, but I spoke over him. “And don’t say it might not be anyone, because there’s no way three of our teachers in two days just happened to die in their sleep, the same week Sabine moves to town.”

“I agree. But that doesn’t mean she’s doing it.”

“Then who is?”

“I don’t know. But it could be anyone. Or anything. Don’t you think it’s at least possible that you’re fixating on Sabine because she’s fixated on Nash?”

I stopped on the sidewalk, almost halfway between Nash’s house and mine. He was right. I wasn’t ready to dismiss Sabine as a suspect, but as long as I was playing cop, I might as well think like a cop, and a good cop would never rule out all other possibilities because of a personal vendetta against one suspect.

“Help me,” I said, peering up at him against the glow of a streetlight.

“What?” Tod frowned.

“Help me. You know way more about Netherworld stuff than I do, and there’s no way a human is doing this. If you really think Sabine’s innocent, help me rule her out and come up with some other theories. We can’t just let this go on. You said yourself that Wells, Bennigan, and Wesner weren’t scheduled to die.”

“Kaylee, I have to be at work in less than an hour.”

I started walking again, and he had to jog to catch up. “When’s your first reaping?”

Tod sighed. “Not till two. But I should really at least look like I’d like to keep my job.”

“Come on, reaper! There’s ice cream—we’ll make a night of it.”

Tod’s brows rose and his eyes sparkled in the streetlight. He glanced at my hand, hanging at my side between us, then finally nodded. “You know I can’t say no to ice cream.”

“Or pizza, or pancakes, or Chick-fil-A…”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”