Soul Crossed (4 page)

“Only if you’re good.” She winks and disappears in a puff of black smoke. She must have damned a few souls to earn that kind of power.

“What about your family?” I ask. I’m finding it difficult to get information out of Camden. I do notice that the more we talk, the less he stutters and take that as a good sign.

“My mom’s a nurse at Providence,” he says, averting his eyes.

“And your dad?”

“He left.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” I say, and I mean it. That has to be hard.

“Don’t be.” He smiles at me, playing with the pencil in his hand.

“Brothers or sisters?” I ask. He looks down again, his fingers tightening around the pencil until the tips are white.

“I had a sister. She died when she was two.”

“Sorry,” I say. It seems I’m doomed to apologize every few seconds. Camden’s had a tortured life.

“You?” he asks. He looks up, and for the first time I see something hard in his eyes that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

“I’ve lost them all,” I say. It’s hard to say that out loud, even after nearly three months in Heaven. “I live with my Aunt Irma.”
Irma Alvarez
, I heard Mr. Griffith call her during one of his visits.

He softens, and I see the Camden I’ve been getting to know. Slowly, he lowers the pencil and slides his hand over, hesitating inches from where my own rests on the table.

“I had a little brother,” I say. “You remind me of him.”

He withdraws his hand.

Josh returns from behind the bookshelves and looks a bit red to me. His hair is mussed, and he’s running his fingers through the tousled curls in an attempt to quiet them. Camden follows my gaze.

“D-d-did you get the b-b-book?” Camden asks. Josh looks confused.

“You said you were going to get a book on symbolism in mythology,” I clarify.

“Didn’t have it,” he says. I shake my head, disappointed. He’s watching me carefully. What is it he’s looking for? Why is it my business if he wants to hook up with some slut? And why am I so worked up about it?

“Maybe we should move on, then,” I say.

“But the only two classes we have left are ones you don’t have,” Josh says.

“Well, I can still sit here and do work while you do work, can’t I, your highness?”

“You don’t need my permission. If you want to stick around, believe me, I understand,” says Josh, eyes flicking to Cam. I feel my face heat up.

“At least I’m not the third wheel here,” I tell him. We’re both standing now, facing each other.

“I think I need to g-g-get home now. It’s p-p-pretty late.” Camden rises, parting the two of us like the Red Sea. He gathers his books with barely a glance at what he’s doing. In my enhanced peripheral vision, I notice Josh push what looks like one of his own notebooks into the mass heading for Camden’s backpack. I don’t understand, but he’s still staring at me with those intense sapphire eyes, and I refuse to be the one to break away first.

I quickly shake myself out of it—I can’t lose sight of what’s important. “See you tomorrow, Camden?” I ask. I give him a brilliant smile, sorry for my hotheaded reaction with Josh. He looks at me and seems conflicted. Have I messed up somehow by not paying enough attention to him? I place my hand on his arm. He studies it for a moment, surprised, then smiles back.

“Sure.” He moves off toward the exit, but looks back at the last second. “And call me Cam.”

Josh sits down, leaning back so that the chair rests on its rear legs. “Well, looks like somebody’s made a friend.”

Her cool exterior has finally cracked. I watch Grace fight to compose herself as she starts to gather her things. She tucks her golden hair back behind an ear and busies herself with sorting papers. I can tell that she wants to look at me, but she fights against it.

I could make her like me. I have the glamour. I’ve already used it on two teachers and several students today, including those two girls she showed up with. But I don’t really want to do that.

I want her completely. I want her to give in to me in every way, not because I hypnotized her. It’s a little unnerving how much I want her, but I figure it’s got to be the challenge. Because Grace will certainly be a challenge.

But I think I can get her, given enough time.

“Going somewhere?” I ask, placing a hand on her pile of homework.

“I thought we were done here,” she says, surprised.

“Cam had to go. I don’t have to be anywhere. You?” I lay on all my non-magical charm, and she considers me. She’s fighting a smile; I can see how her mouth twitches against it. She sits back down with a sigh. Round one: Josh. “How about some coffee?”

“But I thought you just said—”

“I said I don’t
have
to be anywhere. I
want
to be having coffee, with you.” Among other things.

“Doesn’t your friend want to join us?” she asks. Ah, so she did see Keira. Jealousy usually works in my favor because I can use it to manipulate other feelings.

“She’s my sister,” I say, holding back a laugh. Then I feel hands sliding over my shoulders. All I need to see are the long red nails to know who’s behind me.
Shit
. I tense. This could go very badly.

“I’m Keira,” she says. “Nice to meet you.” Grace keeps her arms folded across her chest, but she smiles politely back.

“I’m Grace. So you two are related?” I see she’s considering Keira’s mocha skin and the way she hangs over me—like she owns me.

“Don’t be fooled by our coloring. He’s my half-brother,” she says. “Different dads.” I can see Grace’s face burn with embarrassment. Keira just made her look like a racist. She’ll have to let it drop. Keira grins sideways at me as though to say,
that’s how it’s done
. Subtle.

“I just thought—” Grace stammers, then stops. “Sorry.”

“No harm done. It’s completely natural.” Keira comes around and sits between us, occupying Cam’s empty chair. “Am I interrupting something?” she asks, and even
I
almost believe she’s innocent.

“Not at all. Josh was just offering to buy us some coffee,” Grace says.

“Coffee?” Keira wrinkles her nose at the thought. “No thanks. But if you’re interested in hitting a club later, let me know.”

“It’s a school night,” says Grace.

“Oh. Well, if you change your mind, Joshy knows how to reach me.” She pats my chest, and I feel something hard drop into my pocket. It’s a cell, and I’m betting she’s on speed dial. Then she’s gone—for now.

“Hmm.”

“Hmm, what?” I ask.

“You are full of surprises, aren’t you, Josh?”

“That’s me. Mr. Surprise-Around-Every-Bend. Tell the truth: that excites you, doesn’t it?” I lean across the table so our hands are nearly touching. She shakes her head, but I can tell I’m getting under her skin.

“Josh, can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” I say.

“Why did you slip your notebook in Cam’s backpack?” Huh. She saw that?

“I didn’t. It was his. I borrowed his notes before we left school.” The lie slides off my tongue. The truth is that I’m planning on having a reason to go visit good ol’ Cam later this evening. Get a little more one on one time and see what his environment is like.

The Boss says that can tell you a lot about a person.

Josh is fun to be with. He flirts with everything with breasts, but I suspect it has more to do with his need for acceptance and love than anything else. I’d never say this to him, though, as I also suspect he’s deep in denial.

We stroll down the sidewalk, grasping our Styrofoam cups of coffee for warmth. The fall air carries a chill, and there are so many leaves. Several swirl around our ankles as our feet trample others with a satisfying crunch. The sky is filled with heavy gray clouds that block out the sun, but it’s been that way all day and not a drop has fallen.

I realize that after talking for what feels like hours about trivial things like movies, weather, and my favorite color, I’ve actually learned very little about this mysterious guy. We’ve made our way down the busy street, passing strip-mall after strip-mall until there isn’t much left but houses and trees. I drain the last couple of drops of my coffee, tapping the bottom for the remainder, and toss the empty cup in a trashcan. Too bad there’s no recycling bins nearby. I glance nervously toward the sky, fearful that Ms. Alvarez is watching in judgment. Then I almost laugh with of the ridiculousness of it all.

“I guess I should get going,” I say, hugging myself for warmth through my thin jean jacket. The sky is growing even darker, and I realize it’s late.

“Why?” His voice is low, like a whisper, and he steps close to me, making me very aware of his body inches from mine. I take a step back.

“My aunt. She’s expecting me for dinner.” Ms. Alvarez wants me back every evening for a full report, and I’d hate to be late for my first day back on Earth.

I can tell Josh wants to press me to stay, maybe even kiss me. I suck in my lower lip at the thought. I’ve only been here one day. I can’t let myself get carried away like that. I smile and turn, waving goodbye and picking up my pace. The light is flashing red, and I rush across the street so I can disappear into the subdivision just beyond.

When I’m certain he can no longer see me, I duck behind the wall of a house and pull out my cell. I push the speed dial for Ms. Alvarez and am enfolded in a glowing ball of light. I enjoy the warmth, but hate the uncomfortable feeling of pressure from all around as I am transported back to the classroom where I’ve spent my last few months. I did this for the first time this morning and am hoping it will be something I get used to, but so far it’s still disorienting.

Ms. A is there, waiting for me with an expectant smile and a cup of tea. She has never once asked me if I like tea. I don’t, but I accept it as usual and add several lumps of sugar. As I stir, seated at the single student desk, she moves to the teacher’s position and waits expectantly with her head cupped in her hands. Between the tea and the coffee, I might swim away in all the liquid. I wish I had some sweets to go with it, and a plate of pastries appears to my right.

I note the presence of a third cup, half-empty, to the side of Ms. Alvarez’ desk. I must have missed Mr. Griffith. I’m disappointed—I find his presence strangely comforting, despite the little interaction we’ve shared. I wonder if he likes tea.

“Well?” asks Ms. Alvarez. She’s been waiting for me to speak, and I’ve eaten half the plate of sweets without saying a word. To make up for it, I offer her a tart.

“I think it went well,” I say between mouthfuls.

“Let me remind you how important this is,” she says, her eyes flashing with passion.

I find myself floating above North High School—or what used to be North High School. The building is now a barely-recognizable pile of rubble. Black smoke streams from the top of the roof, from office buildings and houses all around. Trees lay split down the center over the tops of cars that are now more reminiscent of crushed tin cans.

Even the asphalt is half-melted and fissures spread like fungus through the streets. Fires burn all around. The sky is filled with ash and the smell of something foul, like rotting eggs and burning flesh. The silence is deafening.

“Where are all the people?” I ask. Ms. Alvarez is right beside me.

“Gone.”

“All of them?” I ask in horror.

“There are precious few survivors at the End of Times.”

“Does Cam really cause all this destruction?”

“All I can say for certain is that he is capable of it. There are many born in each generation with the ability to bring about the end. We send a protector such as yourself whenever the signs show themselves. You can be sure Satan has a healthy interest in the boy as well.”

“What kind of signs?” I ask, and we are back in the classroom. I put the cookie I’m still holding down on the plate.

“It’s all in the Bible, Grace. You are familiar with The Book, are you not?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I say. It feels like the only acceptable response, though I’ve never really read it all.

Sometimes I wonder who made the decision that I belong in Heaven. I’m pretty sure it couldn’t have been Ms. Alvarez. Not when she looks at me like that, like I’m some kind of mentally challenged charity case. I wonder how she was assigned to me.

She clears her throat. “Now then, tell me everything about your day.” So I do. Except I don’t mention everything about Josh—just that Cam has a friend he hangs out with.

“I thought this was his first day,” she says, her eyes clouding with something like suspicion.

I wind my hair around my index finger. “It is. But apparently he makes friends.”

This seems to satisfy Ms. Alvarez. She sips her tea, deep in thought. “Yes,” she says. “Yes. Psychopaths can be very genial. They can fool everyone. Do be careful, Grace, dear.”

I knock on Cam’s door, noting the absence of a car in the allotted spot. No parental supervision, this late at night? Interesting. I shift back and forth, waiting for him to answer. The night is cold, and I stuff my hands in my pockets for warmth.

I’ve spent the last hour making myself at home in a model apartment Keira found in Southfield, only a few miles away. The furnishings are comfortable enough, and if anyone questions our presence, we can simply use our glamour trick to make them forget all about us. Disappointment struck when I realized she picked out a two-bedroom. But I figure I might need my privacy sometimes—especially if I have Grace over.

Keira also gave me a car. A wicked cool cherry-red Mustang Convertible I used to drive over here. I didn’t ask where it came from. I’m not sure I want to know.

The door cracks open, and Cam’s face appears half in shadow. I smile and ask to come in. He hesitates, then moves aside to let me through. I notice the boxes still lining the floors of the small condo. Not very homey. An image flitters through my mind: the little apartment I shared with my dad during the days he bothered to show up.