My Soul to Steal

10

“YEAH, IT’S SOME GUY named John Wells,” Tod said, sinking onto the bleachers next to me in the gym. No one else could see or hear him, and I was far enough from the other scattered groups of students that no one would be able to hear me, either. And with my earbuds in my ears, hopefully anyone who noticed me would think I was singing along with my iPod or learning to speak German, or something.

“Thanks.” I leaned back, and the next bleacher poked into my spine. Tod had just confirmed one aspect of the rumors spreading like brushfire throughout the school.

“Who is he?”

“The vice principal.” Found dead in his closed, locked office that morning, according to the rumors. Chelsea Simms had been running copies in the office before first period—the school newspaper’s copier was out of toner—when Principal Goody unlocked her V.P.’s door to borrow a file, grumbling about Wells being late for possibly the first time ever. Until she found him, slumped over his desk like he’d fallen asleep, still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Only they couldn’t wake him up, and he was already cold.

But that’s all Chelsea knew, because they’d kicked her out of the office while the secretary dialed 9-1-1.

“You think you can get a look at the list?” I asked, meaning the death list, which told reapers exactly when and to whom reapings were scheduled to occur in any given zone.

“Don’t have to.” Tod grinned. “I know the guy who works this sector and I already asked. Nothing’s scheduled for Eastlake High this week.”

Nothing? He’d just blown Nash’s coincidence theory out of the water. We’d had three deaths in two days, and not one of them was scheduled….

Sometimes I really hate being right.

“Wait, how do you just happen to know the guy who reaps at the high school?” I asked, trying not to be incredibly creeped out that such a position even existed. “I don’t happen to know him. I made it my business to know him, after what happened with Marg back in September.”

Marg was the rogue reaper who’d killed four innocent girls and stolen their souls, which was part of my not-so-gentle introduction to the Netherworld and to the supernatural elements of my own world.

“I don’t suppose you have any details about Wells?” I asked, as Tod leaned back next to me, staring across the gym at a bunch of freshmen grumbling their way through calisthenics. Thank goodness I’d already had my required year of P.E.

Tod shrugged. “They took him straight to the morgue, but I got a look at him before they put him on ice.”

“Ew.” Suddenly I had an image of Mr. Wells, wedged into a giant drink cooler alongside assorted cans of beer and soda, waiting to be consumed at some stupid party.

There hadn’t been any parties since Doug Fuller died and Scott Carter got run down by the crazy train. Most of the student body was still in social shock, struggling to deal with conflicting impulses to truly mourn two of our own, and to replace them. Because without someone at the top of the high school social ladder, the rest of the rungs might collapse, and life as we knew it would fall into chaos.

But waiting for the cream to float to the top of the social milk bucket—a rather organic process—took patience, and while a couple of front-runners had emerged—and some splinter faction might yet turn to Nash, once they’d figured out how to approach the last standing member of the former social power trifecta—no clear victor had been declared.

“It’s really more like a big refrigerator with a bunch of meat drawers,” Tod said, oblivious to the turn my thoughts had taken.

“Thanks. That’s a much better visual.”

Tod laughed, and I had to remind myself that death didn’t affect him the way it affected…anyone else. Anyone living, anyway. He killed people for a living—as ironic as that sounded—and had outgrown the most common reactions to death: fear, sadness, and respect.

“So…notice anything weird about…the body?”

Tod shook his head, blond curls bouncing. “I got a pretty good look at him while they were filling out paperwork, and I didn’t see anything noteworthy. No obvious injuries, no blood or bruises. And his eyes were already closed. He looked like he was sleeping.”

Yeah. That’s what I was afraid of.

I pulled one leg onto the bleacher with me, bent at the knee, and twisted to face Tod, hoping no one was watching me, because now I’d look like I was talking to myself. “I have to ask you something and I don’t want you to freak out. Or say anything to Nash.”

Tod’s pale brows shot up, showcasing his curiosity while his blue eyes flashed in eagerness. “I’m not exactly known for either of those impulses.”

Which was exactly what I was counting on. “What happens when a mara takes too much? Like, really gluts herself on someone’s dream. Worst-case scenario.” I’d already asked Nash, but his answer was biased by an intense need to protect Sabine, and was thus potentially unreliable.

Tod just stared at me for a minute, then slowly shook his head. “I know what you’re getting at, but she didn’t do this.”

“That’s not what I asked. Worst-case scenario. Could she kill someone?”

The reaper looked like he didn’t want to answer, so I just waited, silently demanding a response. “Yeah, but…”

“And would it look like he’d died in his sleep?”

“Kaylee, I’m telling you, Sabine didn’t do this. She and I may not have been best friends, but she’s not a murderer.”

“She’s a thief and a vandal. And an assaulter. Or whatever.” Based on her skills with a lunch tray. “It’s just a hop, skip, and a jump from there to criminal overindulgence.”

“That’s not a hop, skip, or a jump,” Tod insisted. “It’s more like a vault over the Grand Canyon.”

“Tod, three teachers died in two days. All at their desks, all possibly asleep. The week Sabine moved to town. You seriously think that’s a coincidence?”

He shook his head slowly. “There are no coincidences.” We’d learned that, if nothing else, during the first half of my insane junior year. “But that doesn’t mean she had anything to do with it.”

I swallowed a grunt of frustration. Was I the only one who recognized the mara as a potential psychopath? Case in point: her obsession with Nash! “Sabine comes here and teachers start dying. It doesn’t take a genius to see the pattern.”

“What pattern?” Emma dropped onto the bench below mine, staring just to the left of the reaper’s head. I hadn’t even noticed her climbing the steps. “I assume Tod’s around here somewhere. Or else you’ve progressed to actually arguing with yourself.”

“Hey, Em,” Tod said, and Emma jumped a little, obviously startled to find him so close when he let her see him. “She thinks Sabine’s—”

“Trying to get Nash back,” I interrupted, and Tod glanced at me in surprise, then nodded when he understood. Emma didn’t know Sabine wasn’t human, and I wanted to keep it that way. At least until we knew whether or not she was a murderer.

“Well, yeah. That’s been well-established.” Em glanced from Tod to me. “Why? What did I miss?”

She was getting harder and harder to hide things from.

Tod crossed his arms over his snug white T-shirt, silently giving me the floor. Fortunately, I was prepared. “She ambushed me in the hall this morning and gave me a lecture on sex.”

Tod’s brows rose halfway to his hairline. “I hope you took notes….”

I elbowed his surprisingly solid ribs. “She told me that if I really cared about Nash, I’d let him go. Like he’s just gonna fall into her arms if I give him up for good.”

Tod and Emma both watched me, like they were waiting for me to clue in to the punch line of some horribly inappropriate joke.

“You think he would?” My heart throbbed with each beat, as if it were suddenly too big for my chest.

“He might fall into her, but he’s more likely to land on her lap than in her arms,” Tod said, pulling no punches, as usual.

“They have a history, and they’re still really close, Kay,” Emma said, watching for my reaction before continuing. “You’re probably the only thing keeping them apart, and if you tell him he’s never gonna get you back, and he should try to get over you, why wouldn’t he turn to her?”

I had no answer that wouldn’t be a lie, and the truth hurt too much to say out loud. “Doesn’t matter, I guess,” I said finally, studying the wood grain of the tread beneath my hand. “I’m not giving him up.”

“Hey, shouldn’t you guys be in class?” Tod asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

“I have a free period.” And the only thing stopping me from going off campus for a long lunch was the fact that all of my friends had actual third period classes. Speaking of which…

“Are you supposed to be in art?” I asked Em.

She shrugged and held up the giant novelty paintbrush Mr. Bergman used as a bathroom pass. “I might be having a really bad menstrual cycle. Bergman’s too squeamish to question it.”

“That’ll get you out of a whole class?” Tod frowned. “No fair using physiology against the entire male gender.”

Em grinned. “Says the only person in the building who could put on a one-man version of The Haunting. Right, Casper?”

Tod scowled. “I’m a reaper, not a ghost.”

“Whatever. Anyway, girl problems are good for fifteen minutes, max. Five, with a female teacher,” she said, standing with the giant paintbrush. “So I gotta get back. See you at lunch?”

I nodded.

“Let’s go get Chick-fil-A. I’d kill for some waffle fries,” Tod said, as Em took the first two steps.

“You’d kill for a lot less than that,” she shot over her shoulder.

“You got cash?” I asked, already warming to the idea of lunch off campus. Without Sabine.

Tod scowled. “No, but I can pay you back.” He never had any money, because the reaper gig didn’t pay in human currency.

“I’ll buy you both lunch, if you bring me something.” Emma was on her way up the steps again, already digging into her pocket. But coming back would mean dealing with Sabine at lunch.

Emma handed me a twenty, and I took it hesitantly. Disappoint my best friend with no explanation, or suffer through Sabine’s infuriating presence…?

Finally I pocketed the twenty and stood. “What do you want?”

“Nuggets and fries. And a Coke. Thanks, Kay!” With that, she bounded down the steps and out the gym door as Tod and I made our way down the bleachers.

“You know, you could probably make a killing—no pun intended—working at Pizza Hut during your downtime.” He worked twelve hours a day at the hospital and had the other twelve free, and he spent most of that time bored, since he didn’t need to either eat or sleep. “I mean, you could just blink out of the parking lot and show up wherever the pizza’s supposed to go, just like that.” I snapped my fingers, then lowered my voice when I realized we were nearing a group of students. “You’d be the fastest delivery guy in history.”

Tod huffed. “Like I want to spend my afterlife delivering pizza.”

I shrugged. “At least that gig would pay in cash. And probably in pizza.”

The reaper looked intrigued for a moment, then shook his head firmly. “Then who’d be around to pop in and drive you nuts when you start getting too serious? I perform an important role in your life, you know.”

“Yeah, well, Sabine’s starting to give you a run for your money,” I whispered, as we headed out of the gym and into the hall.

We passed the closed art and music room doors on the way to the parking lot, but as we approached the library, a sudden shrieking shredded the midday quiet. Tod and I ran into the library to find Chris Metzer, president of the robotics club, standing between a table and the chair he’d obviously been sitting in moments earlier, face scarlet, eyes wide as everyone else in the room stared at him.

“Chris?” The librarian rounded her desk in a series of short, even steps, constricted by her long pencil skirt. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Fine. Sorry.” Chris scooped his books up from the table and I noticed the repeating-line imprint of a spiral-bound notebook on his left cheek. “It was just a stupid dream.” Then he hurried past us and into the hall, cheeks still flaming.

I elbowed Tod, and he frowned. “I know, I know.”

“Sabine,” I whispered, as he followed me into the empty hall. “But when she Sleepwalks, her physical body looks like it’s sleeping, right? Where could she go to sleep uninterrupted here at school?” Not the library. Not anymore, anyway…

Tod shrugged. “Storage closet? Locker room?”

I shook my head. During lunch or after school, sure. But those were both actively used during class periods. “Her car,” I said, in a sudden stroke of inspiration.

I raced down the main hall and past several open classroom doors, crossing my fingers against any teachers vigilant enough to notice me. Tod followed, his silent footsteps signaling that no one else could see or hear him.

I shoved open the side exit door just in time to see Sabine get out of her car in the third row. When she noticed me, she smiled and waved, then started around the side of the building toward the quad and the cafeteria. We had to jog to catch up with her, and when we finally did, we were almost to the quad.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” I demanded, winded, but pleased to realize Tod hadn’t deserted me for his waffle fries. Of course, I still had Emma’s money.

Sabine shrugged without slowing. “Walking. The most common form of locomotion among American high school students.” She glanced at my feet. “Looks like you’ve mastered the skill.”

“I’m talking about Chris Metzer. You can’t just Sleepwalk into people’s dreams in the middle of the school day.”

“I can if they fall asleep at school. Did you know Metzer’s afraid of clowns? Like, seriously afraid of them. When he was four, he went to his cousin’s birthday party and the clown cornered him behind the pool house and—”

“Sabine,” Tod said, blessedly interrupting a sentence I desperately didn’t want her to complete. The mara blinked in surprise. But she recovered quickly. “Tod! Nash said you were back with us. So…how’s the afterlife?”

Tod shrugged, amiable, now that she’d stopped publicly spewing someone else’s darkest fears. “Dull, mostly. But there’s no commute, and I don’t have to exercise to maintain perfection.” He spread his arms, inviting us both to inspect the form he was frozen in.

Sabine arched one eyebrow. “Sounds like a win.”

Another shrug. “Death has its advantages.”

I glared at them both, but neither noticed. How had I gotten stuck between a grim reaper and a walking nightmare?

“So, you get to see people as they die, right?” Sabine peered around me at Tod. “Do they get scared? Do you ever just sit back and think, ‘Damn, I love my job!’”

“Yeah, there’s usually some fear. I work at the hospital, so most of the ones I take know they’re dying, so they have a little time to get worked up about it.”

“Tod!” I snapped, more than fed up with their morbid social hour. “She was just feeding from someone in the middle of the school day. Can you at least pretend that’s not okay?”

The reaper gave me a funny little smile—like he was more amused by my reaction than upset over what she’d done—then turned to the mara, plastering a frown over the grin I could still see leaking through.

“She’s right, Sabine. You’re getting careless. Is this about Nash?”

Sabine sat on the edge of the first picnic table in the quad and shrugged, glancing from one of us to the other. “I don’t know what this is about. I was just minding my own business, having a little snack, when you two decided to team up on me. And not in the good way.”

I rolled my eyes. “This is about you trying to kill Chris Metzer in the middle of third period, just hours after you drained Mr. Wells at his own desk. You’re not just a murderer, you’re a pig. Good thing you can’t actually gain weight on psychic energy, or we’d have to roll you out of here like a giant marshmallow.”

Sabine watched me calmly for a moment, and I became acutely aware that my cheeks were flaming in anger. Then she turned to Tod, completely unruffled by my accusation. “Is she supposed to be on medication, or something? What the hell is she talking about?”

“I’m talking about Wells.” I stepped between her and the reaper, so she couldn’t ignore me. “The vice principal? And Mr. Wesner. And Mrs. Bennigan. And now Chris Metzer. You can’t just walk around killing people every time your stomach growls!”

“I’m not sure where you’re getting these delusions, but you need to step away from the crack pipe, Cavanaugh. I didn’t hurt Metzer. He’s never gonna miss what little energy I took, and if I’d wanted him dead, he’d be staring at the inside of a body bag right now. And as for those teachers, I’ve never even read their fears, much less played around in their dreams. Feeding from old-people fears is like eating tofu when you could have sirloin. I mean, why bother with the geriatric crowd, when guys my own age taste so much better?”

“You’re lying,” I said through gritted teeth, and Sabine only laughed.

“I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of—okay, I’m not really ashamed of them, either—but lying isn’t one of them. Why would I give someone else credit for my hard work? For example, when I have my legs wrapped around your boyfriend, I’m not going to give you credit for losing him. I’m gonna give me credit for taking him.”

My vision bled to red and my hand flew. But I didn’t truly realize I’d slapped her until her hand swung up to cover her cheek and my palm started tingling like I’d just grabbed a live wire.

Tod gaped at me, obviously more surprised by how I’d reacted than by what she’d said.

Sabine stared at me, and I relished the shock clear in her eyes, even as a deep thrill of primal satisfaction burned hot in my gut.

But then she smiled and her hand fell to her side, revealing the angry red patch on her left cheek. “Atta girl! Now we’re playin’ the game! I wasn’t gonna make this physical, but if you insist…” She pulled her fist back, and I flinched. But then Tod was suddenly between us, holding her back.

“Outta my way, reaper,” Sabine growled, and even as my heart throbbed in my throat, I noticed that she looked much less creepy when she wasn’t smiling. Anger suited her better, like the grin she usually wore was a weird, ironic mask. “She started it.”

“You baited her.” Tod shoved her back by both shoulders, and I realized he’d had to become completely corporeal to do it.

“If she wants to fight for him, I say let her. I’ll play fair—no fear-reading, I swear.”

Oh, crap. My pulse raced so fast my vision was starting to go gray. Why the hell had I hit her? Sabine had been to jail, and I’d never even thrown a punch.

Yet to my surprise, I realized I didn’t regret it. Even though I’d probably get my jaw broken in front of the whole school. Sabine was a slutty, boyfriend-stealing, murdering Nightmare, and someone had to call her on it.

Evidently that someone was me.

“No, Sabine.” Tod stepped to the left when she tried to dodge him, and I stood there like an idiot when she raised both brows at me over his shoulder.

“You gonna let living dead boy protect you, or are you gonna put on your big-girl pants and fight for your boyfriend?”

“This isn’t about Nash,” I insisted, secure from behind the reaper, at least for the moment. Anger, confusion, and fear swirled inside me like a thick, dark storm. “Okay, that last bit was about Nash. But the rest of it is about you leaving a series of dead bodies in your wake, like slime from a slug’s trail.”

Sabine stopped struggling with Tod and glanced up at him. “She’s crazy. You do realize she’s completely, mind-bogglingly insane, right?” And from the way she watched me for my reaction, I knew that she knew.

That righteous, burning feeling in my stomach turned ice cold. “Nash told you?”

“He didn’t have to. I know what you’re afraid of and why,” she said, eyes glittering in satisfaction. “But I don’t hold it against you.” She shrugged. “We’ve both spent time in state institutions.”

I stood there, shaking with rage, but Sabine wasn’t done.

“I don’t think you understand, Cavanaugh,” she said around Tod’s shoulder. Then she glanced up at him and gave him a shove. “Move, reaper, I’m not gonna hurt her.” Tod stepped reluctantly out of her way, but stuck close to my side, just in case. For which I was profoundly grateful.

Sabine’s attention turned back to me, and her eyes were endless black pits of despair. “Nash and I aren’t a thing of the past. We’re a thing of forever. You’re a fleeting fascination for him. The only female bean sidhe he’s ever met, other than his mom. Of course he’s going to be curious, but curiosity’s all it is. He’ll get over that, and he’ll get over you, and I’ll be there waiting.”

“It’s not just curiosity,” I insisted through clenched teeth, my throat thick with the denial. It couldn’t be.

“You’re right—it’s part guilt.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stood with her feet spread, guy-tough, yet somehow still hotter than I’d ever be. “You’ve managed to make him feel guilty for what he is, and for an addiction that’s all your fault, even though he’s killing himself trying to overcome them both. But he shouldn’t have to. If you really cared about him, you’d be the one there with him at night, when he’s shaking from needing a hit. When he’s sick to his stomach, and sweating, and trying to look like he isn’t dying inside.”

I swallowed, guilt bubbling up inside me, but she wasn’t done.

“If you really cared about him, you wouldn’t have told him to stay out of your head. His Influence is part of who and what he is, and you made it clear that he can’t be that person when he’s with you.”

“You don’t know what he did…” I started, blinking away tears I refused to let fall. “He didn’t tell you that. I know he didn’t.”

“You’re so naive it would be cute, if it weren’t so pathetic.” Sabine shook her head, but her focus never left me. “Nash and I don’t have any secrets. He told me. It was this whole big confession for him, and the entire time he’s telling me how he lied to you, and pushed you, and let that demon use you, he’s looking at me like his fate’s in my hands. Like he’ll be damned forever if he sees judgment in my eyes. But he won’t. He never will, because here’s the thing—Nash can tell me anything. He can tell me how guilty he feels for using Influence to try to get into your pants. That’s one of his very worst fears, and maybe it should be. He shouldn’t have done that to you, because you can’t take it. You’re too fragile. One push too many, and you’ll shatter into a million shards of Kaylee, all sharp and broken, and he’ll be left to pick up the pieces.

“But I won’t break,” she continued. “And guess what else.” Her voice dropped into an exaggerated whisper, and she leaned closer as Tod tensed beside me. “This may make me a dirty girl, but I like it. Nash’s Influence? It’s a game of control—a challenge to see who has it, which is a high all on its own for someone like me. Someone who has to be in control of herself for every minute of every single day, to keep from creeping out everyone she ever looks at. After that, letting someone else have control for a few minutes… It’s something between a relief and a rush, and it’s fun. Nash can’t hurt me, and I can’t hurt him. We can be ourselves around each other, and that’s something you and he will never, ever have. Not ever. Because you don’t trust him. And you never will. And in his heart, he knows it.”