Shattered Souls (11 page)
Authors: Mary Lindsey
“I owe her another song. But it will only work if she plays with me.” He grinned. “Come on, Lenzi.”
The people on the patio applauded, and Zak pulled another stool next to his. “Come on, babe. ‘Free Fallin’ ’ again, but this time I promise to do it right.” He was tuning the second guitar when I climbed the steps, heart hammering. I’d never played in public before.
I slid onto the stool, and Zak handed me the guitar. Unlike Dad’s, this guitar was shiny and slick. I ran my hand over the polished surface and focused on Zak. The minute he began to play, the audience seemed to melt away. I joined in when he began to sing.
This was the first time I’d felt happy—really happy—since Dad died. The music was a release, and Zak’s gorgeous grin was a gift.
Zak had asked me what I needed.
This
was what I needed. Something Alden and the Intercessor Council and all the bogeymen on the planet couldn’t provide.
This
was what I needed. Something Alden and the Intercessor Council and all the bogeymen on the planet couldn’t provide.
TWELVE
T
he evening was perfect until we rounded the corner onto my street.
he evening was perfect until we rounded the corner onto my street.
Zak was laughing and telling me about a drummer friend getting so high he fell asleep onstage while I tried to act interested so he wouldn’t notice Alden’s car parked at the far end of my street.
If he could really feel my emotions, Alden knew I was pissed at him. If he blew my best date ever, I’d make him a
real
ghost boy.
real
ghost boy.
Zak pulled into my driveway. I needed Zak to leave before Alden popped out of the bushes or did something stupid to set him off.
“Thanks for an amazing time,” I said, fighting the urge to look at Alden’s car or check to see where he was lurking. I grabbed my purse from the floorboard. “It was a lot of fun.”
“Hey.” He leaned across the console and crooked his finger. “It’s not over yet.”
A good-bye kiss and he’d be gone before anything bad happened. I leaned in and met him over the parking brake, cup holder between us. The whole situation was awkward. I tried to act like I was into Zak’s kiss while really I was terrified that Alden might appear and make Zak go crazy.
The hard plastic of the console bit into my thigh and hip when Zak shifted and pulled me closer. “Let’s go inside.” His voice was husky. “Your mom is never home this early.”
That was even worse! “No.” I couldn’t let him know I was panicked. “She said she’d be home early tonight,” I lied.
He ran his finger from my chin down my throat to the bottom of the low-cut V-neck of my shirt. “Let’s stay right here, then.”
I took his hands in mine. “Really, Zak. I have a ton of homework.”
He sighed. “Okay. Wanna hang out tomorrow, then?”
“Yeah. I’d love that.” I gave him a quick kiss. “Thanks for an awesome night.” I twisted my purse strap around my palm and pushed the car door open. Where was Alden? I zipped my eyes to the right, but didn’t see him outside anywhere.
My skin prickled with dread as Zak got out of his car and walked me to the door. I just knew that any minute Alden would pop out from wherever he was hiding. I barely felt it when Zak kissed me good night one last time.
There was no click when I turned my key in the knob. Mom must have forgotten to lock up.
Once inside, I leaned back against the front door and waited for the rumble of Zak’s car to fade away down the street before I allowed myself to relax a little.
“Coast clear?” Alden’s voice came from the kitchen.
That explained why the front door was unlocked. How did he get inside? I had the urge to growl like an animal, but I answered as sweetly as I could. “No.
You’re
here.”
You’re
here.”
He entered the family room and sat on the edge of the sofa. “I have to be here. It’s my job.”
“Yeah, I know.” I pitched my purse onto the coffee table on my way to the kitchen. “I told you I’m not interested.”
As I pulled on the fridge handle, he pushed it shut. “Let’s make a deal.”
I tried to be nonchalant, leaning against the counter. Even as mad as I was, the nearness of him affected me. I wanted to lean into him. Have him touch me. “What kind of deal?”
“I’m going to tell you more about your job. I believe you’ll change your mind once you understand the importance of what you do.”
He stepped back when I tugged the refrigerator door open. “And what if I don’t change my mind?”
“You’re the Speaker. You control the relationship. If you want to ignore your job and hang out playing guitar with your boyfriend, I have to defer to you, but you need to know the consequences of that.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
I glanced at the clock on the microwave. Mom wouldn’t be home for at least an hour. I shrugged and pulled two Cokes out of the fridge and tossed him one. “Deal. Enlighten me.”
His smile was beautiful. My stomach made an excited churn like I was on a roller-coaster climb before a huge fall.
I popped the top on my Coke.
Zak has a gorgeous smile too,
I reminded myself.
Zak has a gorgeous smile too,
I reminded myself.
Alden moved close to me—close enough for me to feel the body heat rolling off him. “Being a Speaker is an amazing calling. You make the world better—safer.”
I perched on a bar stool at the island counter. “Why me? How did this happen?”
“Speakers are born. It’s a gift.” He pulled a stool from the far end of the island and placed it close to mine, facing me.
“It doesn’t feel like one,” I grumbled.
He sat on the stool, knees outside of mine, but not touching. “A great gift. The Intercessor Council recruits them from the general population. Speakers in their first cycle are usually discovered among the ranks of fortune-tellers and mediums, most of whom are total scam artists, but some are legitimate. Protectors can identify the genuine Speakers.”
“How?”
He popped the top of his soda. “You know how you can hear the Hindered? Well, Protectors hear Speakers. It’s not really hearing. I’ve told you that I feel your soul. I can do it with other people too if they have a sensitivity to the Hindered. Most potential Speakers are drawn to the paranormal in one way or another. Some start up or join ghost-hunting agencies, some join the clergy, some find a way to cope with the voices, and some go insane. In fact, some of our best Speakers have come from asylums. When you hear about people who say they are reincarnated, they are probably Speakers or Protectors who haven’t been called into duty yet.”
“Couldn’t they be retired Speakers or Protectors? Maybe they got sick of doing it.”
He put the can down on the counter. “They wouldn’t have come back if they had retired. Their souls wouldn’t have recycled.”
I stiffened. “Don’t tell me they kill someone if they don’t want to do it.”
“Absolutely not. They just live out a normal lifetime like everyone else. They don’t recycle in the next generation—at least that’s what I’ve read. I’ve never heard of it really happening. The only time the IC terminates a life before the end of a natural cycle is if one of the primary rules is broken.”
“And those are?”
He sat up straight and looked up at the ceiling like a kid reciting a memorized passage of text. “A Protector can be removed from the cycle for intentionally not informing, protecting, and serving the Speaker, entering the body of the Speaker without permission, or entering the body of any living human outside of an exorcism.”
I stared at him in silence for a moment. “What about the ‘letting the Speaker lead’ thing?”
He smiled. “A breach there won’t get someone executed, just reprimanded.”
“All of those rules apply to the Protector,” I said. “What about the Speaker?”
“The primary thing that could get you removed from the cycle is intentionally allowing your body to be used by the Hindered or Malevolent for purposes other than resolution.” He shifted his gaze away from my eyes. “Speakers can also be discontinued for lack of productivity.”
I tore a piece of paper from the notepad next to the telephone. “What does that mean?”
“Speakers must intercede on behalf of the Hindered and average a certain number of resolutions in order to recycle in the next lifetime. I’ve never heard of a Speaker being discontinued for a breach of this rule. It’s very rare.”
I folded the paper into squares. “What about the Protectors? Is it rare for them to break the rules?”
“It isn’t common, but it happens.”
I stood up. “What happens? I mean, if people blow it, what really happens?”
“There’s a hearing, and if the transgression is serious enough, they are discontinued on the spot.”
I put the kitchen island defensively between us. “That’s a nice way of saying they’re murdered.”
“No, Lenzi. They aren’t murdered. Justice is carried out.”
“I don’t want to do this, Alden. I don’t want to be part of a system like this.”
He picked up my discarded piece of paper and handed it to me. “You used to love the system. In fact, you sat on the Rule Development Panel in the mid-1800s. The rules have been established over centuries. This is the way it has to be.”
“I’m not Rose,” I said, reorienting the piece of paper in my hand.
His eyes followed my fingers as I tucked a flap under a corner crease. “I know that.”
“Whatever happened to democracy and equality?”
He leaned across the counter. “It’s not about holding hands, feeling good, and singing ‘Kumbaya.’ It’s about staying alive!”
I climbed back on the stool and covered my face. “I don’t think I’m up to this.”
He placed his hands on my shoulders. “Lenzi. You are more than up to this. The Hindered need you. The Intercessor Council needs you. Imagine what would happen if there weren’t Speakers. Unaided, all the Hindered would become Malevolent and they’d quickly outnumber living humans. It would cause an apocalypse.”
Well, that certainly put a new spin on the weirdness. I lowered my hands from my face and took a deep breath.
“Please, Lenzi. I’m not asking you to commit. Just give it a trial run.” I swiveled on the stool to face him. He leaned close and placed his hands lightly on my knees. “Do one resolution and see how it goes.” It felt like an electric charge shooting up my thighs to my belly as he rubbed his thumbs in circles on the inside of my knees. Desire swirled through me to the point I couldn’t sit still, and when I shifted on my stool, he froze. He shook his head once and backed away a couple of steps. “Sorry,” he whispered.
We stared at each other for a moment, then he half smiled and picked up the folded paper. “This goes like this, I think,” he said, making a reverse fold to form the frog’s back leg.
I took it from his hand, pulse still hammering in my ears. “You make origami too?”
He shook his head. “No. But I’ve watched you do it for lifetimes.”
Rose.
I placed the frog on the counter.
I placed the frog on the counter.
He squatted in front of my stool. “Lenzi. Please give soul sharing a try. Just once and I think you’ll understand. You can make a difference—a life and death, Heaven and Hell kind of difference. It’s an opportunity very few are privileged to have. One resolution—an easy one—and you’ll see what I mean.”
I glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Mom’s going to be home soon.”
“Tomorrow, then.” He stood up. “How about I pick you up after school?”
Staring into his pale eyes, I realized I might just be making the dumbest decision ever, but clearly there was something to this Speaker business—something bigger than me. I had to give it a try.
“Okay. It’s a deal.”
THIRTEEN
R
ain trailed in narrow rivulets down the classroom window. As always, Ms. Mueller, my history teacher, yabbered from her podium. Her voice droned on and on like a hive of bees.
Bzzz.
ain trailed in narrow rivulets down the classroom window. As always, Ms. Mueller, my history teacher, yabbered from her podium. Her voice droned on and on like a hive of bees.
Bzzz.
All I could think about was last night, which made school seem insignificant. My time with Zak at the Last Concert Café had been incredible. My heart raced every time I thought about playing together onstage and how easy it was to be with him—how normal he made me feel.
And then there was Alden, who made me feel anything but normal. He fascinated me. The Speaker thing, though, gave me the creeps. “It’s a gift,” Alden had said. I shifted in my hard plastic chair, trying to find a more comfortable position. The cuts on my belly hurt again, and the stitches pulled when I moved.
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzzzzz.
There were only fifteen minutes left, but the closer it got to when I’d see Alden, the slower the clock seemed to move. I doodled on the cover of my binder and killed time until the bell finally rang.
The social scene at the bank of lockers didn’t slow me down at all. I was the new girl and didn’t fit in—and the episode in the bathroom hadn’t helped. The other students talked about me, but not to me, which was probably my fault. I’d made no attempt to even be friendly. My mom had enrolled me in this snooty private school because my grades had dropped before we moved and she thought a lower student/teacher ratio would help.
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