Authors: Mary Lindsey

Shattered Souls (10 page)

BOOK: Shattered Souls

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“Help me,”
a voice cried over the others. It was the child again.

“Get lost, ghoul!” I shoved the coffee table with my foot before bounding up the stairs two at a time. “All of you can leave. I’m not going to play with you, so go haunt somebody else. I’m sick of this. Go away! I’m not Rose. You’ve got the wrong girl.”

Slamming the door of my room felt good—so good, I did it again. “Get out of my life!”

The ghost thing was terrifying. So was Alden. He made me feel out of control and inadequate. After seeing Rose, I knew there was no way I could ever compete with her.

I slipped into my desk chair and picked up the origami frog Alden had held. His scent still lingered in my room—peppermint and leather—causing my pulse to quicken. The whole reincarnation thing was over the top, but it explained why I was so drawn to him. Still, I had a bad case of information overload. I’d gone from crazy girl to the ghost hunter in a flash.

I set the frog down.

Alden couldn’t possibly expect me just to jump right into something this bizarre. I opened my top desk drawer and pulled out a square of the special paper Mom had bought online. This sheet was jet-black, which suited.

I folded the paper into sixteen even squares. Deliberate and exact, like I wished my life could be. Folding the corners on the diagonal, I closed my eyes and let the shape guide me, pinching the center crease and pleating out to the edges.

I hadn’t spoken with Zak since leaving with Alden from Kemah last night. I knew he was short tempered, but I didn’t peg him for the jealous type. No doubt he was furious with me. I turned the paper over and made valley folds from the corners to the center. Tension seeped from my fingers into the paper.

Just as my heart rate slowed and my breathing returned to normal, my cell rang. Alden’s name popped up on the screen, causing my heart to hammer again. He must have called or texted his phone from mine to get my number. My fingertips passed over the paper. I creased it several more times, creating a mountain fold while the phone rang. I wasn’t up to talking to him, so I let it roll over to voice mail. The screen on the phone went dark and I took a deep, cleansing breath, letting my fingers skim the paper.

I needed to get my mind off Ghost Boy and the bogeyman business. I had only one constant in my life, and I might have ruined it last night. For the sake of my sanity, I hoped not. I put down the origami and picked up my phone.

Dialing Zak was almost as scary as soul-sharing and potentially as painful. I thought for a moment he wasn’t going to answer, but he picked up just as I was about to hang up. He didn’t say anything, but I could hear music in the background.

I had no clue how to begin. “Hi, Zak.”

“Hey.” It sounded like he was at a club or something, but it was too early for clubs to open.

I balanced the phone on my shoulder and picked up the paper, tucking the corners under toward the center. “I’m really sorry about last night, Zak. I should have explained things better.”

“What’s to explain? It’s pretty obvious what’s going on.” The thrumming of a bass guitar vibrated through my ear.

“It’s not what you think, Zak.”

He didn’t answer.

“Alden’s just an old friend who knows about Dad and the voices.”

Still, nothing but the bass chords.

“Can we meet up and talk about it?”

“I can’t. I’m practicing for a gig tonight at Last Concert Café.”

“How about afterward?”

Someone in the background yelled his name. “Sorry, Lenzi, I’ve gotta go. Bye.” The line went dead—and so did my heart.

When I looked down at the paper, it was a pinwheel. I’d never made this shape before. Most people had to practice origami, but it came naturally to me, like my hands just knew what to do.

I tugged on the folds, forming wedges. I needed to talk to Zak in person. This could be cleared up if he’d just hear me out.

My phone chirped, letting me know I had a voice mail. I dialed it up, expecting it to be an apology from Alden. Instead, it was a bossy message from him telling me not to reveal anything regarding Speakers, Protectors, or the Intercessor Council to Zak or anyone else. Like I’d do that. It was nuttier than schizophrenia.

I decided to go to the Last Concert Café. I needed normal. I needed Zak.

Turning the paper over, I curled the edges and tucked the corners in. Like my mood, the harsh paper softened.

I closed my eyes and pulled down the edges of the folds. Images flickered. The memory of the storm Alden had given me replayed. When it reached the kiss, I jerked my eyes open and stared down at the black paper rose resting in my palm.

ELEVEN

I
stood on the sidewalk for a long time after the cab drove away. The Last Concert Café had been built in the late forties, and the modern glass and chrome city of Houston had popped up around it, leaving it as an untouched time capsule right at the base of the interstate off-ramp. There wasn’t a sign out front, and you had to knock twice on the red arched door to be let in.

I brushed my fingertips over the hedge in the planter between the two doors, waiting for the lump in my throat to shrink down.

Local musicians were booked on weeknights, and Zak played here sometimes to earn extra money. Music did for Zak what folding paper did for me. If I were going to get through to Zak, this was probably the right place and time.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked twice and waited until a guy opened the door. In decent weather, bands would play on the patio, which is where I found Zak. He was riffing away on his bright red electric guitar while a bassist and drummer played along. He didn’t notice as I took a seat at a wooden picnic table near the stage.

Eyes closed, he hammered out a song from the seventies, drawing out chords and creating his own syncopation. Dad would have loved hearing Zak play—more than that, he would have loved playing with Zak.

A waitress dressed in a bright Mexican smock and skirt brought a basket of tortilla chips and some salsa. My stomach was in knots, and there was no way I could eat, so instead of my usual chicken enchiladas, I ordered some crab-stuffed jalapeños—Zak’s favorite.

Zak noticed me when he looked up at the end of the song. His face was unreadable. I clasped my hands together under the table and held my breath, waiting for his reaction. My heart did a flip-flop when he nodded to me.

He leaned into the microphone. “We’re gonna take a short break.” The guys onstage with Zak didn’t look happy, but after he chatted with them a moment, they left the stage and headed into the restaurant.

“Hey, babe.” The way he said it didn’t sound like an endearment. He sat facing out next to me on the bench and leaned back against the table.

I traced the wood grain with my finger. “You sound great up there.”

His smile was more of a smirk. “New group. I figured it was time to try new things. Kinda like you.”

“Zak, I—”

The waitress plunked down a glass of water, a huge plate of stuffed jalapeños, and a bowl of
queso
.

Once she was out of earshot, I continued. “I’m really sorry about Kemah.”

He stared straight into my eyes. I’d never noticed his blue eyes were peppered with gold flecks. “So am I, Lenzi.”

“It’s not what you think.”

He shifted and straddled the bench so he faced me. “And what do I think?”

I thought he’d blow up, but instead he was creepy calm. I unrolled the silverware and pressed the napkin flat. “Alden’s an old friend, that’s all. Nothing more.”

He simply stared at me, waiting, drumming his fingers on his thighs. He leaned forward so his face was inches from mine. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

He glanced at the plate in front of me. “I thought you didn’t like jalapeños.”

I slid the plate closer to him. “I ordered them for you.”

He lifted an eyebrow and leaned in even closer so that our faces touched. “Really?” He brushed his lips against mine as he spoke. “Because I thought they were for the guy at the table behind you.”

I jerked away and twisted on the bench to find Alden watching us from a table in the back corner.
Fantastic.
This was the last thing I needed right now.

Alden didn’t react to my glare.

“Does he like jalapeños too, Lenzi?” Zak asked as he dragged one through the
queso
.

“I have no idea, but he’s about to wear some.” Getting out of the picnic table wasn’t graceful, and I’m sure steam was coming out of my ears as I walked over to Alden. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t move a muscle. “My job.”

I pointed to the exit and whispered, “Do it somewhere else.”

He looked past me to Zak and then back at me. “I’ll leave if that’s what you really want, but that’s a bad decision.”

I put my hands on my hips. “That’s what I want.”

He stood and grabbed his jacket from the bench. “I’m not allowed to interfere with the outside relationships of my Speaker, but I want you to know that this guy’s not right. Be careful, Lenzi.” After shrugging into his jacket, he gave Zak a nod and strode through the exit.

Zak was biting into another jalapeño when I stepped over the bench and sat next to him. “He won’t bother us again,” I said, raking my hair back with my fingers.

He chuckled. “Wanna bet? That guy’s totally into you.”

My face flushed hot. “No, he’s not. He’s just an old friend.”

“From Galveston?”

I’d hoped Zak wouldn’t ask a bunch of questions. I was a pathetic liar. I pulled a hair band off my wrist and wrapped it around my hair several twists. “Yeah.”

“I need you to be honest with me, Lenzi. How
well
do you know him?” He took a drink from my water glass.

I felt trapped. I’d chosen Alden over Zak yesterday, so I had to say we had some kind of real friendship, but not that kind. “It’s not like that, Zak. He’s just a friend. He knows all about Dad.”

“Have you kissed him?”

Alden and Rose kissing on the roof flashed through my mind. I shifted on the bench. “No. Zak, let it go. He’s gone. I’m here to be with you.”

“You weren’t with me last night. You chose him.” His voice was strained, and the veins in his neck were visible.

“Zak.” I ran my hand through his thick hair. “Tonight, I chose you.”

He closed his eyes, hands balled into fists. “I won’t share you, Lenzi. Get rid of him. I don’t do jealous well. When you left with him last night, I wanted to . . .” He took a deep breath and let it out.

I placed my hands over his fists. “I’m sorry.” His hands relaxed, and I threaded my fingers through his. “The voices were really bad. Alden knew what to do to help me. That’s all.”

His brow furrowed as he studied my face. “Let
me
help you, Lenzi. Tell me what you need.”

What I need.
I needed normal.

“Please let last night go. You’re the only sane thing in my life. The only really good thing.” I squeezed his hands. “I get why you’re mad, but nothing happened, and he won’t be an issue again.”

“Okay.” He ran his fingers down my neck and over my shoulder, sending chills up my spine. “Okay, I’ll drop it.” He placed his warm lips to my neck, and my heart rate doubled.

The drummer and bassist climbed up on the stage and one of them whistled to Zak. He gave them a thumbs-up and swung his leg over the bench so his back was against the table again. He wrapped his arms around my waist just under my cut and slid me next to him. The bass tuning thrummed in my head as Zak’s kiss coursed through my body. He tasted delicious and spicy; I started to laugh.

He pulled away and smiled. “What?”

“I just might learn to appreciate jalapeños after all.”

The sun had set before the end of his last song, and the strands of decorative lights draped around the patio made the place seem magical. The patio was almost full now of people dropping in for some music, margaritas, and dinner before the commute home to the suburbs.

Zak’s voice sounded even deeper in the microphone. “This is for someone very special to me. This is for my girlfriend, Lenzi.”

I must have turned a million shades of red when he pointed at me and people clapped. He picked up his acoustic guitar from the rack behind him and played the classical piece he had written for my birthday.

I became completely lost in the song. Closing my eyes, I ran my fingers over my napkin. For the first time in a long time, there was no shape inside trying to get out. No folds. No pleats. It was just a paper napkin, and I was just a girl with a cool boyfriend. This is what I wanted.

Zak stood during the applause and pulled another guitar from the rack. “I owe that girlfriend of mine something.”

I gripped the edge of the bench, aware that everyone was looking at me.

BOOK: Shattered Souls

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