My Soul to Take (15 page)

“If it had gone the other way, she would have told you the truth. But Aiden couldn’t face it. He was never as strong as she was.” Aunt Val’s gaze found me, and I was startled by the sudden clarity in her eyes. The unexpected intensity shining through a glaze of intoxication. “I never met anyone stronger than Darby. I wanted to be just like her until—”

“Valerie!” Uncle Brendon stood frozen in the doorway, a fresh—presumably un-spiked—mug of coffee in one hand.

“Until what?” I glanced from one to the other.

“Nothing. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.” He set the mug on the nearest end table—without a coaster—and crossed the room in a blur of denim, practically exhaling frustration and anxiety. Uncle Brendon lifted his wife from her chair with an arm around her shoulders, and she tottered unsteadily, lending credence to his claim.

Yet despite her wobbly legs, her eyes were steady when they met his, and his silent censure did not escape her notice. But neither did it make her retract her statement. Whatever had just passed between them, it was crystal clear that Aunt Val did in fact know what she was saying.

Uncle Brendon half carried his wife toward the hallway. “I’m going to get her settled in for the night. It was good to meet you, Nash, and please give my best to your mother.” He glanced pointedly at me, then at the door.

Evidently visiting hours were over.

“Uncle Brendon?” I had one question that couldn’t wait for my father, and I wanted to be holding Nash’s hand when I heard the answer, just in case.

My uncle hesitated in the doorway, and Aunt Val laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes already closed. “Yeah?”

I took a deep breath. “What did Aunt Val mean when she said I’m living on borrowed time?”

Comprehension washed over him like waves smoothing out sand on the beach. “You heard us this afternoon?”

I nodded, and my hand tightened around Nash’s.

A pained look chased his smile away, and he pulled Aunt Val straighter against him. “That’s part of your father’s story. Have a little patience and let him tell it. And try to trust me—Val really doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

I exhaled in disappointment. “Fine.” That was the best I was going to get; I could already tell. Fortunately, my father would be there in the morning, and this time I wouldn’t let him leave without answering every one of my questions.

“Get some sleep, Kaylee. You too, Nash. With the memorial, tomorrow probably won’t be any easier than today was.”

We both nodded, and Uncle Brendon lifted Aunt Val into his arms—she was snoring lightly now—and carried her down the hall.

“Wow.” Nash whistled as I fell back against the arm of the couch facing him. “How much has she had?”

“No telling. She doesn’t drink much, though, so it probably doesn’t take much to lay her out cold, and she started this afternoon.”

“My mom just bakes when she gets upset. Some weeks I live on brownies and chocolate milk.”

I grinned. “Trade ya.” Aunt Val would rather shoot herself than touch a stick of real butter, much less a bag of chocolate chips. Her theory was that not knowing how to bake saved her thousands of calories a month.

My theory was that for all the brandy she’d had in the past eight hours, she could have had a whole pan of brownies.

“I like brownies. You’re stuck with your aunt.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Nash stood, and I followed him to the door, my arm threaded through his. “I gotta get Scott’s car back before he calls the cops,” he said. I walked him out, and when we stopped by the driver’s side door, I wrapped my arms around his waist as his went around my back. He felt sooo good, and the thought that I could touch him anytime I wanted sent a whole flock of butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

I leaned back against the car, and Nash leaned into me. His mouth met mine, and my lips opened, welcoming him. Feeding from him. When his kisses trailed down my chin to my neck, I let my head fall back, grateful for the night air cooling the heat he brought off me in waves. His lips were hot, and the trail of his kisses burned down my throat and over my collarbone.

Each breath came faster than the last. Every kiss, every flick of his tongue against my skin, scalded me in the most delicious way. His fingers trailed up from my waist as his lips dipped lower, pushing aside the neckline of my shirt.

Whoa…
“Nash.” I put my hands on his shoulders.

“Mmm?”

“Hey…” I pushed against him, and he rose to meet my own heated gaze, his irises churning furiously in the light from the porch. Was this because we were two of a kind? This irresistible urge to touch each other?

My racing pulse slowed as my heart began to ache. Was it really me he wanted, or did our mutual species throw our hormones into overdrive? Would he want me if I were human?

Did that even matter? I
wasn’t
human. Neither was he.

“You want me to pick you up for the memorial?”

His eyes narrowed in confusion over my abrupt subject
change. Then he inhaled deeply, slowed the churning in his eyes, and settled against the car next to me. “What about your dad?”

“He can drive himself.”

Nash rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d want to go, with your dad in town.”

“I’m going. And I’m going to drag my dad and uncle along too.”

He arched his brows, sliding one arm around my waist. “Why?”

“Because if some vigilante reaper is after teenage girls, I figure he’ll find an auditorium full of us pretty hard to resist. And the more
bean sidhes
that are present, the greater the chance one of us will get a look at him, right?”

“In theory.” Nash frowned down at me, and I could feel a “but” coming. “But, Kaylee—” I grinned, mildly amused at having predicted something other than death “—it’not going to happen again. Not this soon. Not in the same place.”

“It’s happened for the past three days in a row, Nash, and it’s always happened where there are large groups of teenagers. The memorial will have the highest concentration of us in one room since graduation last year. There’s just as much chance he’ll pick someone there as anywhere else.”

“So what if he does? What are you going to do?” Nash demanded in a harsh whisper. He glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one had appeared on the porch, then met my eyes again, and I realized that behind his sudden anger lay true fear.

I knew I should have been scared too, and in truth, I was. The very concept of reapers running around harvesting their metaphysical crop from empty human husks made my stomach pitch and my chest tighten. And the idea of actually looking for one of those reapers…Well, that was crazy.

But not as crazy as letting another innocent girl die. Not if we could stop it.

I watched Nash, letting my intent show on my face. Letting determination churn slowly in my eyes.

“No!” He looked toward the house again, then back at me, his irises roiling. “You heard what Tod said,” he whispered fiercely. “Any reaper willing to steal unauthorized souls won’t hesitate to take one of ours instead.”

“We can’t just let him kill someone else,” I hissed, just as urgently. I resisted the urge to step back, half-afraid that any physical space I put between us during an argument would translate into an emotional distance.

“We don’t have any choice,” he said. I started to argue, but he cut me off, running one hand through his chunky brown hair. “Okay, look, I didn’t want to have to go into this right now—I figured finding out you’re not human was enough to deal with in one day. But there’s a lot you still don’t understand, and your uncle’s probably going to explain all this soon, anyway.” He sighed and leaned back against the car, his eyes closed as if he were gathering his thoughts. And when he met my gaze again, I saw that his determination now matched my own.

“What we can do together?” He gestured back and forth between us with one hand. “Restoring a soul? It’s more complicated than it sounds, and there are risks beyond the exchange rate.”

“What risks?” Wasn’t the exchange rate bad enough? A new thread of unease wound its way up my spine, and I leaned against the car beside him, watching light from the porch illuminate one half of his face while rendering the other side a shadowy compilation of vague, strong features. I was pretty sure that if whatever he was about to say was as weird as finding out I was a
bean sidhe,
I’d need Carter’s car at my back to hold me up.

Nash’s gaze captured mine, his eyes churning in what could only be fear. “
Bean sidhes
and reapers aren’t the only ones out there, Kaylee. There are other things. Things I don’t have names for. Things that you don’t ever want to see, much less be seen by.”

My skin crawled at his phrasing.
Well,
that’s
more than a little scary.
Yet incredibly vague. “Okay, so where are these phantom creepies?”

“Most of them are in the Netherworld.”

“And where is that?” I crossed my arms over my chest, and my elbow bumped Carter’s side-view mirror. “Because it sounds like a Peter Pan ride.” Yet my sarcasm was a thin veil for the icy fingers of unease now crawling inside my flesh. It might have been easy to dismiss claims of this other world as horror movie fodder—if I hadn’t just discovered I wasn’t human.

“This isn’t funny, Kaylee. The Netherworld is here with us, but not really
here.
It’s anchored to our world, but deeper than humans can see. If that makes sense.”

“Not much,” I said, but with the skepticism gone, my voice sounded thin and felt empty. “How do we know this Netherworld and its…Nether-people are there, if we can’t see them?”

Nash frowned. “We
can
see them—we’re not human.” Like I needed another reminder of that. “But only when you’re singing for someone’s soul. And that’s the only time they can see you.”

And suddenly I remembered. The dark thing scuttling in the alley when I was keening for Heidi Anderson. The movement on the edge of my vision when Meredith’s soul song threatened to leak out. I had seen something, even without actually giving in to the wail.

That’s why Uncle Brendon had told me to hold it in. He was afraid I would see too much.

And maybe that too much would see me.

N
ASH MUST HAVE SEEN
understanding on my face—and near panic—because he wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me closer across the waxed surface of Carter’s car. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. An experienced
bean sidhe
knows how to stay safe. But we’re not experienced, Kaylee.” It was nice of him to include himself in that statement, but we both knew I was the newbie. “Besides, we don’t even know for sure that those girls weren’t on the list. This is all still theory. A very unlikely, dangerous theory.”

“We’ll know once Tod calls,” I insisted, the new information spinning around in my head, complicating what I’d thought I was prepared to do, should intervention prove necessary.

“That might not be tonight.”

“It will be.” He’d find out for us. Soon. Whether we’d actually gotten through to him, or he just really wanted my last name, I’d known in the instant before he’d disappeared that he would get us the information. “Call me as soon as you hear from him. Please.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “But you have to promise you
won’t do anything dangerous, no matter what he says. No soul singing by yourself.”

Like I’d admit it if I were planning something risky. Besides…“I have no desire to see this Netherworld on my own. And my little talent’s no good without yours anyway, right?”

“Good point.” He relaxed a little then, and kissed me goodnight. I held him tight when he started to pull away, clinging to the taste and the feel of all things good and safe. Nash had become a shining tower of sanity in this new world of unprecedented chaos and unseen peril. And I didn’t want to let him go.

Unfortunately, in the world of curfews and alarm clocks, he couldn’t stay.

I closed and locked the door behind him, and watched through the front window until he backed out of the driveway and drove out of sight. I was pulling the curtains closed when something creaked behind me. “Kaylee?” I jumped and whirled to find my uncle standing in the hallway threshold, watching me.

“Jeez, Uncle Brendon, you scared the crap out of me!”

His smile was more of a grimace. “You’re not the only one around here with big ears.”

“Yeah, well it’s not the big ears that worry me so much as the big
mouths,
” I said, grateful that I could hear Sophie snoring again, now that the rest of the house was quiet. I padded across the carpet toward my uncle, then stepped around him and into the hall, desperately hoping he was bluffing. That he hadn’t actually heard my little argument with Nash.

He followed me to my room, and when I tried to swing the door shut behind me, his palm smacked into the hollow wood panel, holding it firmly open. “What’s going on, Kaylee?”

“Nothing.” Going for nonchalance, I kicked first one sneaker then the other onto the floor of my closet.

“I heard you two talking.” He leaned against the door frame, thick arms crossed over a broad chest, still well defined after who-knows-how-many years of life. “What are you planning at the memorial, and who’s Tod?”

Well, crap.
I shoved aside a pile of clean, unfolded clothes Aunt Val had dumped on my bed at some point and sank onto the comforter, my mind whirling in search of an answer that was at least as much truth as it was fabrication. But I came up empty. Nothing I made up would ring true to him, especially considering he knew more about
bean sidhes
than I knew about…anything.

So maybe I should just tell him the truth….
That way, if the rogue reaper
did
show up at the memorial and Nash refused to help me out of some misguided attempt to protect me, surely Uncle Brendon would step in. He might act tough, but inside he was a big teddy bear, and he could no more watch an innocent girl die before her time than I could.

“You sure you want to hear this?” I pulled my legs beneath me on the bed, fiddling with the frayed hem of my jeans.

Uncle Brendon shook his head. “I’m pretty sure I
don’t
want to. But go ahead.”

“You might want to sit,” I warned him, reaching to pluck my iPod from my pillow. The earbuds had gotten tangled again; I guess that’s what I get for falling asleep wearing them.

My uncle shrugged, then settled into my desk chair, waiting with his arms still crossed over his chest.

“Okay, here’s the deal. And I’m only telling you this because I know you’ll do the right thing. So technically, I think my voluntary disclosure exempts me from any penalty for what I’m about to admit.”

His lips quirked, as if a smile had been vetoed at the last minute. “Go on…”

I inhaled and held the next breath for a moment, wonder
ing where best to begin. But there
was
no good place to start, so I dove in, hoping my good intentions would bail me out during the less altruistic parts of the story. “Meredith Cole wasn’t the first one.”

“She wasn’t your first premonition?” He didn’t look surprised. Of course, he
couldn’t
have forgotten the other times—including the incident preceding my trip to the hospital.

“That too. But, I mean, she wasn’t the first girl to die
this week.
There was one Saturday night and one yesterday afternoon. It happened the same way with all three girls.”

“And you predicted them all?”
Now
he looked surprised, his forehead crinkled, brows furrowed.

“No, I never even saw the second one.” I glanced at my lap, avoiding his eyes while my fingers worked nervously at the earbuds, trying to produce two separate wires from a knot any sailor would have been proud of. “But I saw the girl who died on Saturday, and knew it was going to happen. Same thing with Meredith this afternoon.” Which I assumed Aunt Val had told him.

“Wait, Saturday night?” The ladder-backed chair creaked and I looked up as he leaned forward to eye me in growing suspicion. “I thought you stayed home.”

I shrugged and raised one brow at him. “I thought I was human.”

My uncle frowned but nodded, as if to say he’d earned that one. Still, I couldn’t believe Aunt Val hadn’t ratted on me. As cool as that was of her, I couldn’t help wondering
why.
Had all the “coffee” made her forget my indiscretion?

“So where did this first girl die?” He leaned back again, crossing thick arms over his chest. “Where did you go?”

Suddenly the wires now tangled around my fingers seemed fascinating…“Taboo, this dance club in the West End. But—”

He scowled, and even with thick brown brows casting shadows across his eyes, I thought I saw some movement of the green in his irises.
I
know
that never happened before. I would have noticed.
“How did you even get into a nightclub?” he demanded. “Do you have a fake ID?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, I just snuck in through the back.” Sort of…“But that’s not really the point,” I rushed on, hoping he’d be distracted by the next part. “One of the girls in the club was…
dark.
Like she was wearing shadows no one else could see. And when I looked at her, I knew she was going to die, and that panic—or premonition, or whatever it is—came on hard and fast, just like last time. It was horrible. But I didn’t know I’d been right—that she’d actually died—until I saw the story on the news yesterday morning.” Speaking of which…“Are the others dead too? The ones I saw last year?” My fingers stilled in my lap as I stared at my uncle, begging him,
daring
him to tell me the truth.

He looked sad, like he didn’t want to have to say it, but there was no doubt in his eyes. Nor any hesitation. “Yes.”

“How do you know?”

He smiled almost bitterly. “Because you girls are never wrong.”

Great.
Morbid
and
accurate.
Sounds like the sales pitch for a county-fair fortune-teller…

“Anyway, after I saw the news yesterday morning, I kind of freaked. And then it happened again that afternoon, and things got
really
weird.”

“But you didn’t predict that one, right?”

I nodded and dropped my hopelessly knotted earbuds in my lap. “I heard about that one secondhand, but had to look up the story online. This girl in Arlington died exactly like the girl at Taboo. And like Meredith. They all three just fell over dead, with no warning. Does that sound normal to you?”

“No.” To his credit, my uncle didn’t even hesitate. “But that doesn’t rule out coincidence. How much did Nash tell you about what we can do?”

“Everything important, I hope.” And even if he’d left some gaps, that was much better than the
canyons
my own family had created in my self-awareness. Not to mention my psyche.

Uncle Brendon’s eyes narrowed in doubt, and he crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. “Did he mention what happens to a person’s soul when he dies?”

“Yeah. That’s where Tod comes in.”

“Who’s Tod?”

“The reaper who works at the hospital. He’s stuck there because he let this little girl live once when she was supposed to die, and his boss killed the girl’s grandmother instead. But anyway—”

Uncle Brendon shot out of the chair, his face flushed so red I thought he might be having an aneurism. Did
bean sidhes
have aneurisms?

“Nash took you to see a
reaper?
” He stomped across my rug, gesturing angrily with both arms. “Do you have any
idea
how dangerous that is?” I tried to answer, but he barreled forward, stopping at the end of my bed to stare down at me as he ranted. “Reapers don’t like
bean sidhes.
Our abilities are at odds with theirs, and most of them feel very threatened by us. Going to see a reaper is like walking into a police station waving a loaded
shotgun.
”

“I know.” I shrugged, trying to placate him. “But Nash knew this guy before he was a reaper. They’re friends—sort of.”

“That may be what
he
thinks, but somehow I doubt Tod agrees.” And he was pacing again, as if the faster he walked, the faster he could think. Though my doubts about that technique stemmed from personal experience.

“Well, he must, ’cause he’s going to help us.” No need to mention that his help stemmed more from my involvement in the matter than from Nash’s.

“Help you with
what?
” Uncle Brendon froze halfway across the room, facing me, and this time his eyes were
definitely
swirling.

“Help us figure out what’s going on. He’s getting some information for us.”

My uncle’s expression darkened, and my breath hitched in my throat as the green in his irises churned so fast it made me dizzy. “What kind of information? Kaylee, what are you doing? I want the truth, and I want it right now or I swear you won’t leave this house again until you turn twenty-one.”

I had to smile at the irony of Uncle Brendon asking
me
for the truth. I sighed and sat straighter on the bed. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but don’t freak out. It’s not as dangerous as it sounds—”
I hope
“—because there’s this loophole in the exchange rate, and—”

“The exchange rate?”
Uncle Brendon’s face went from tomato-red to nuclear countdown in less than a second. And then there was more pacing. “
This
is why we wanted your father to be the one to explain everything. Or at least me. That way we’d know how much you understand and what you’re still clueless about.”

“I’m not clueless.” My temper spiked, and I stretched to drop my iPod on my nightstand before I accidentally crimped the cord.

“You are if you think you have any business even
contemplating
the exchange rate. You have no idea how dangerous messing in reaper business can be!”

“
Ignorance
is dangerous, Uncle Brendon. Don’t you get it?” Standing, I grabbed a clean pair of jeans and shook them out harshly, pleased when the material snapped against itself, sharply accenting my anger. “Eventually, if the premonitions kept up, I
would have been unable to hold back my song. I’d have wound up delaying some random reaper’s schedule and really pissing him off—not to mention whatever
other
invisible creepies are out there—with no idea what I was doing. See? The longer you all keep me bumbling around in the dark, the greater the chance that I’ll stumble into something I don’t understand. Nash knows that. He explained the possibilities
and
the consequences. He’s arming me with knowledge because he understands that the best offense is knowing how to avoid trouble.”

“From what I heard, it sounds more like you’re out
looking
for trouble.”

“Not trouble. The truth.” I dropped the folded jeans on the end of the bed. “There’s been precious little of that around here, and even now that I know what I am, you and Aunt Val are still keeping secrets.”

He exhaled heavily and sat on the edge of my dresser, scruffing one hand through unkempt hair. “We’re not keeping secrets from you. We’re giving your dad a chance to act like a real father.”