Before I Wake (8 page)

Tod glanced at me, both brows raised. “Can a hellion go insane?
Because I think this one’s lost his fucking mind.”

“I’m
dead,
Avari,” I repeated.
“Doesn’t that make this whole stupid obsession kind of pointless?”

Scott clasped his hands at his back like an old man and tried
to come closer, but Tod stayed between us, and the hellion didn’t seem to like
having to look up at him. Or having to look around him to get to me. “Do you
still have a soul, Ms. Cavanaugh?”

“Yes…” I said, and I could already see where this was
headed.

“That soul is yet unsmudged, and unless I’m mistaken—” he made
a show of sniffing the air in my direction, and my chill bumps doubled in size
“—you died with other virtues intact. Do you have any idea how rare that is in
today’s world?”

“So I’ve heard,” I mumbled.

“Now, if a hellion had access to the human plane, to a wealth
of even purer souls and younger bodies, you might find your value eroded,” he
continued. I didn’t give a damn about my value in the Netherworld, but I’d never
been more relieved that Avari was stuck there. “Or perhaps not. There is
something intriguing and rare about your persistent selflessness.” His frown was
part fascination and part confusion, like he couldn’t quite figure out why I
drew his interest.

That made two of us.

“Okay, I’ve had enough of this crap.” I stepped around Tod, and
when he tried to pull me back, I gave him the warning look I’d perfected on
Sabine. He backed off, but stayed close. “What the hell happened with Thane? Why
didn’t you eat him when you had the chance?”

“What makes you think I didn’t?” Avari’s words rolled off
Scott’s tongue with an ease that made me sick to my undead stomach.

“I saw him this morning, so unless you regurgitated him, it
looks to me like he escaped your evil clutches. Or something like that.”

“No one escapes—”

“I did,” I said, before he could even finish his sentence.
“Twice, if memory serves.”

“Three times,” Tod corrected, ticking them off on his fingers.
“There was the time in his office, with Addy, then the time at the carnival,
then in the cafeteria. Three times.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about the time with Addy.” I turned back to
Scott, who looked distinctly unamused. “Three times.”

“As loathe as I am to concede the fact, you were never truly
captured, so you can’t possibly have escaped. And neither has Thane.”

I crossed both arms over my chest, frowning. Hellions couldn’t
outright lie. Possession of a human body didn’t change that, right? “Then what
was he doing at the doughnut shop this morning?”

“Reaping.”

“Why?”

“Because that is what reapers do.”

I rolled my eyes and looked up at Tod. “Okay, this is a waste
of time. Let’s go.”

“Not without what we came for,” he said, and I’d never heard
his voice deeper or angrier. “You have two choices here,” Tod said to the
hellion. “You can answer some questions, or you can let your boy Scott take a
lump to the head.” Which would evict Avari from the body he’d possessed and put
a temporary end to his playtime on the human plane.

“And how will you get the answers you seek then?” Avari
demanded, and neither of us had an answer for that. “Nothing is free, Ms.
Cavanaugh. Perhaps if you offered a trade…”

“You’re not getting my soul, or any other part of me,” I
said.

“Information is tonight’s currency, is it not?” he said. “You
answer two questions for me, and I will answer one for you.”

“How is that fair?” Tod demanded, and I realized he’d edged
closer to me, like he might have to lunge between me and mortal danger any
second. I was beyond the mortal phase of my existence, but his instinct still
made me smile.

“Fair is irrelevant. I am a hellion of greed. I won’t offer
this exchange again.”

“Okay,” I said, and Tod groaned, but I ignored him. “You get
two questions, but I go first.” And as soon as I had my answer, I’d blink
out.

Avari clucked Scott’s tongue and shook his head. “I haven’t
succumbed to stupidity since we last spoke, Ms. Cavanaugh. But as a gesture of
goodwill, I will allow you the second question.”

That was as good as I was going to get. “Fine. Ask.”

“What
are
you, little
bean sidhe?
How did you survive your own death?”

“That’s two questions,” Tod pointed out.

“They are one in spirit,” Avari insisted.

“But they were two in…words. So I’ll answer one of them,” I
said. “I am a reclamation agent. I take stolen souls from monsters like you and
see that they get their final rest. Now my question.” But I had to think about
that. If he could possibly answer me without divulging any actual information,
he would. I’d have to phrase it carefully.

“Why is Thane on the human plane, if he hasn’t wiggled free
from your grip?”

“He is doing my bidding, Ms. Cavanaugh. Thane the wayward
reaper is now bound by new chains of servitude.”

“So you told him to kill the doughnut-shop owner? Why?”

Scott’s brows rose, but the expression was all hellion. “Does
that mean you’d like to bargain for more information? If not, you still owe me
another answer.”

“You can settle up with her later.” Tod took my hand and
reality started to twist and bend around me. The last thing I saw before we
appeared in the middle of my bedroom floor was Scott’s face, warped in an angry
snarl as the hellion peered out at me through his eyes.

5

“SO, DID THAT
creep you out as much as it creeped me out?” I asked, flopping down on my
bed on my stomach.

Tod sank into my desk chair and rolled it forward until his
knees touched the mattress. “Maybe more. Why would Thane work for Avari, if he’s
free to leave the Netherworld?”

Styx growled at him from the foot of my bed, then settled into
my lap when I clucked my tongue at her and patted my leg. “I think the bigger
question is what is he doing for Avari, other than the obvious?” Reaping
unauthorized souls.

“What is who doing for Avari?” my father asked, and I looked up
in surprise to find him standing in my bedroom doorway. But I could tell from
the way his gaze flitted over the room that he couldn’t see either of us. “The
disembodied voice and the growling guard dog gave you both away, so you might as
well show up for real.”

“Sorry.” I concentrated on the physical plane��on truly
being
there—and my father’s gaze finally landed on me.
“I didn’t realize I was only half-there.”

“It takes some practice,” Tod said, and I knew that he’d become
fully corporeal, too.

“So, what’s going on with Avari?” My father leaned against the
door frame, not truly in my room, but clearly stating his intent to be involved
in whatever we were up to. And since he’d overheard part of what I’d thought was
a private conversation, we’d have to let him into the loop. Otherwise, he’d ask
Madeline next time he saw her, and we’d be screwed.

I glanced at Tod and found just a hint of frustration and fear
swirling in the cerulean depths of his eyes. “Thane’s back, and Avari appears to
be pulling his strings.”

My father frowned. “Thane’s back? From the dead? Again?”

Tod nodded. “He’s like the Rasputin of reapers. He’s evidently
impossible to get rid of. But don’t worry,” he said, turning to lay one hand
over mine on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to handle this.”

My father’s forehead furrowed. “And by handle it, you
mean…?”

“I’m going to ask Levi for help.” Tod met my gaze. “Madeline
told you to let the reapers police our own, right?” he asked, and I could only
nod. “I’m hoping Levi can deal with Thane before anyone else sees him and
reports his return. That way he can’t carry out whatever nefarious task Avari
put him up to and neither Levi nor I will get in trouble for dealing with him
through unsanctioned means like last time.”

“How would Levi deal with him?” I asked, and my dad looked just
as interested in the answer.

“I assume he’d…end Thane. The only way to do that—that I know
of—is to take his soul. I’ve seen Levi do it several times,” Tod said, and my
chill bumps were back.

“I’ve seen it, too,” I said, and the memory was enough to make
my hands shake. “I saw him take yours, and he’ll do it again, if Madeline forces
his hand.” I sat up on the end of the bed and met my father’s heavy gaze. “You
can’t tell Madeline about Thane.”

My father frowned. But then he nodded.

“I started this, and I’ll finish it,” Tod said, still watching
me. “There’s no reason for you to put yourself in any danger.”

“I agree,” my father said.

“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m not submitting to a vote. I
have every reason to get involved in this,” I insisted. “First, I am not going
to spend eternity alone,” I said, glaring Tod into silence when he started to
argue. “Second of all, Thane has a grudge against all
three
of us, one of whom he could still kill.” I aimed a pointed
glance at my father, who looked like he wanted to argue, but couldn’t. “And
anyway, you and Levi are going to need help finding Thane, and I happen to know
someone who can sense the dead.”

“The necromancer?” Tod frowned. “How do you know you can trust
him?”

I shrugged. “Madeline trusts him.”

“But I don’t trust
her.
”

“Neither do I,” my father added. “She doesn’t really care about
you, Kaylee. She only cares about what you can do for her and the reclamation
department.”

“That’s because she’s my boss, not my guidance counselor.” I
exhaled slowly in frustration. “Look, we don’t have much time and we don’t have
many resources, and Luca is too great an asset to ignore just because you don’t
trust Madeline.” I focused on Tod. “Come meet him tomorrow at lunch?”

“Okay, but if he brings a Ouija board, I reserve the right to
mess with anyone who can’t see me.”

“Fair enough. You talk to Levi tonight and, in the morning,
I’ll see if Luca can pinpoint the rogue reaper again—he doesn’t even know who
Thane is, much less that that’s who he spotted yesterday.”

“I love a woman with a plan,” Tod said, and my father
scowled.

“Good, ’cause there’s more. Avari and Thane know that the best
way to get to us is through our friends and family, and they know where to find
everyone we care about. So we need to keep tabs on everyone. Tod, can you keep
an eye on Nash and your mom?” I figured Sabine would be wherever Nash was.

Tod nodded, and I turned to my father. “If you can check on
Uncle Brendon and Sophie, when she’s at home, I’ll keep up with Emma and with
Sophie while she’s at school.”

My dad nodded, and I breathed a little easier. Literally. I
felt better having a plan, even if that plan was vague and full of holes.

* * *

When Tod went to work and my father went to bed, I spent
an hour trying to dig up enough interest to get through my chemistry homework,
but chemical formulas and equations seemed no more important at one in the
morning than they had twelve hours earlier, and every time my mind wandered, I
found Scott, or Thane, or Avari, haunting me from my own memories.

After a solid half hour spent tapping my pencil on the page and
twisting the amphora heart on its chain around my neck while Styx snored on my
pillow, I closed my textbook and admitted defeat. School no longer felt
relevant, because I knew for a fact that I wouldn’t need most of what I learned
there.

Even if I decided to go to college, what would I do with my
degree? Assuming someone would be willing to hire a doctor, or a lawyer, or a
physical therapist who looked sixteen, I wouldn’t be able to hold any one job
for very long, because it wouldn’t take people long to notice that I wasn’t
aging. And it would take a very patient boss to overlook all the times I’d have
to take a long lunch or an unauthorized hour off to hunt down a stolen soul.

Suddenly my future was looking long and boring. And frustrating
beyond reason. And I’d only been dead a month.

What if the boredom and sense of futility got worse? What if I
eventually lost my humanity and wound up like Thane, so bored I was willing to
hurt people just to entertain myself? To break up the monotony of day after day
and night after night of nothing.

If that were to happen, would I know it was happening? Would I
even care? Once my friends and family were all gone, would I even have a point
of reference for what humanity and normalcy look like? What they feel like?
Would Tod and I be enough to keep each other sane and human enough to care about
each other? To care about anything?

I closed my eyes and rolled over on my bed, trying to purge the
litany of fears and useless questions marching through my brain, but I couldn’t
get rid of them because I had nothing to replace them with except more fears and
useless questions.

What if Luca couldn’t find Thane?

What if Levi wouldn’t help us deal with him?

How would I protect my friends and family from a hellion
willing to use them to get to me?

The questions played through my head like a song list on
repeat, but I had no answers, and after a while, the questions themselves
stopped making sense. And when I looked up, I realized I’d been staring at the
amphora in my hand for forty-seven minutes, without moving. Without breathing.
Without even blinking.

My eyes and my throat were dry, but the really weird thing was
that I had no urge to stretch or find a new position. Or to move at all. I could
easily have sat there doing and thinking nothing for another forty-seven minutes
or longer.

The even
weirder
thing was that
that thought didn’t bother me. It didn’t scare me, though I knew it should have.
I felt like a bear in hibernation, minus all the sleeping. I’d just…shut
down.

That had happened before. Always at night, when I was alone.
When there was nothing to do and no one to talk to. It hadn’t scared me then,
either, but the next day, in retrospect, it always did. And it would again.

I was trying to decide whether or not to get up and find
something worth doing, on general principle, when I heard a thud from outside. I
froze and listened, and heard it again.

I was on my feet in an instant, racing down the hall in my bare
feet. I grabbed a knife from the butcher block in the kitchen and fought
memories of sharp metal, warm blood, and excruciating pain as I headed slowly
for the door, telling myself I couldn’t die twice. Er, three times. I was
halfway there before I remembered that I could make sure no one heard my
footsteps.

Being dead takes a lot of practice.

At the door, I peered through the peephole, but saw nothing but
my empty front yard, damp from a steady drizzle of spring rain. But then I heard
another thud, this time followed by a familiar groan. I set the knife on the end
table next to my father’s recliner and pulled the front door open.

Nash sat on the top step, leaning against the porch railing, a
squarish glass bottle loosely held in one hand. His clothes were wet, his hair
plastered to his head.

“Nash, what the hell are you doing here?”

He looked up, like he was surprised to see me. At my own house.
“I’m drinking on your porch. Care to join me?” He held the bottle of whiskey up
and I shook my head, then stepped out of the house and closed the door behind
me, so my dad wouldn’t hear him. “
Why
are you
drinking on my porch?”

“The lawn’s too wet to sit on.”

“That’s because it’s raining. Give me that.” I pulled the
bottle from his grip. “Did you walk here? You’re soaked.”

He laughed, but the sound was harsh. Half choked. “My mom
frowns on driving drunk.”

“Your mother frowns on
being
drunk.
Come dry off and I’ll take you home.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“You need to go home. Come on.” I tried to pull him up but he
was too heavy, so he pulled himself up, using the porch railing for balance.
Standing, he stared down at me, his eyes half focused in the porch light. He
blinked, too drunk to hide the swirls of confusion and longing in his irises.
Then he leaned down like he’d kiss me.

I stepped back and put my empty hand on his chest, my heart
aching for him. For me. For all four of us, and the ties twisting us together.
“No. Don’t do this, Nash,” I said, and his next exhalation seemed to deflate
him.

I stepped over the threshold and held the door open for him,
and he trudged inside, dripping on the floor. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Working.” I pushed the door closed and set his whiskey on the
half wall between the kitchen and living room, then dug a clean hand towel from
a drawer in the kitchen. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

“In bed.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah,” he said, and I caught my breath, surprised by the
hollow feeling in my chest—an unexpected residual ache. “That’s what you wanted,
right? You want me with her, so I can forget about you?”

I handed him the towel and he blotted his face with it, but his
gaze never left mine. “I just want you to be happy, Nash.” And clean. And
stable.

“Yeah, well, that ship’s sailed.” He stood dripping on the
tiled entry, still watching me. “Tell me it hurts, Kaylee. Tell me it hurts,
just a little bit.”

I exhaled slowly and took the towel when he handed it back. “It
hurts. More than a little.” It hurt to see him, knowing that I’d played no small
part in making him into what he’d become. It hurt a lot. “Go dry off in the
bathroom. I’ll get you something to wear.” My dad’s clothes would be big on him,
but at least he’d be dry and dressed.

“I don’t want to wear your dad’s clothes. He hates me.”

“You’d rather wear mine?”

Nash scowled, but took off his shoes, stumbled over his own
feet, and headed for the bathroom.

I pawed through the dryer for a pair of my dad’s drawstring
jogging shorts and the smallest T-shirt I could find. When I knocked softly on
the bathroom door, Nash opened it wearing only a towel wrapped around his
waist.

“Here.” I handed him the clothes and he took them, then just
stood there, watching me.

“Why did you do it, Kaylee?” he asked, and I put one finger
over my lips, warning him to be quiet. I couldn’t mute his voice like I could
mute mine.

But I didn’t know how to answer his question. I wasn’t even
sure what he was asking—I’d done so many things I wasn’t proud of, most of them
to him. “Get dressed, and we’ll talk. But then you have to go home.”

He closed the bathroom door, and I waited in my bedroom
doorway, leaning against the frame. A minute later he emerged in my father’s
shorts, the drawstring cinched around his narrow hips. The T-shirt lay on the
closed toilet lid behind him. I stood, blocking the door to my room, and he
stepped so close I could smell the rain on his skin. “Aren’t you gonna let me
in?” he whispered, staring straight into my eyes.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” For many reasons. Two of
which were Tod and Sabine.

“I just want to understand, Kaylee. Don’t you think you at
least owe me an explanation, considering you framed me for your murder?”

How the hell was I supposed to say no to that?

I stepped back and let him in, and Nash glanced around my room
like he hadn’t been there in years. And that’s kind of what it felt like. The
past month felt like an eternity—so much had changed in such a short period of
time that I couldn’t even hold all the facts in my head without getting a little
dizzy.