Absolution (23 page)

“I thought I was going to die, that somehow Albert would kill me and take me with him. I was willing to go to free Matthias. But I was terrified.

Then, Matthias came. He said Albert was lying. And you guys showed up.” I took a deep breath. I still couldn’t believe Matthias had been willing to give up his soul for me.

Weston’s eyes grew larger. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, shivering in spite of the fire. “But then, the other being—I don’t know who—came down.” The gravity of wondering who had come to save Matthias linked us together in a bond of awe.

Luke nodded. “We saw him.”

“You think… it was… God?” Weston whispered.

The idea sent a flush of warmth through my spirit. “I don’t know,” I said.

“Maybe Matthias has a guardian of his own,” Luke suggested. “Blows me away,” he murmured.

“Seemed to blow Albert away, too, because he fell to his knees, crying.”

“Seriously?” Luke asked.

“I expected him to disintegrate, like he usually does,” I said. “The other black spirits did. The second the being showed up, they were gone.” Weston’s mouth dropped open. I realized he didn’t know about how Albert came and left. “Albert can’t be around purity—it causes him to disappear.”

Weston’s Adam’s apple rolled up his throat. “Oh.”

“So I expected that to happen, but it didn’t.” I was perplexed that Albert’s suit had lightened with the event. “When we left, Albert was still there.”

Luke shuddered. “Yeah, I heard him.”

“I did, too,” Weston added.

A tingling of thrill raced along my skin. How fascinating that both of them had
heard
Albert, but not seen him. Albert’s cries of hopelessness and realization would haunt me for a long time.

Weston’s open mouth, wide-eyed expression was that of a child discovering the secret of Santa Claus. “Will Albert be back?” he asked.

“Matthias told me he’d fight me for my soul—to get to him.” But where was Matthias now? Was Albert still after his soul? “I don’t know who that was that came and took Matthias, but someone is watching out for him.”

The silence between us prickled with unanswered questions. “This is huger than anything I’ve ever seen,” Luke mumbled. He rubbed his face.

“You’re something else, Z. I’m glad you’re okay.” He patted my shoulder.

I leaned over and hugged him. “Thanks bud.” He held me a moment, and I enjoyed the connection. The evening, dangerous as it had been, had also brought us together in a way I knew none of us would ever forget.

“Don’t know if I’ll sleep, but I’m gonna hit the hay.” Luke stood, stretched, eyed me, then Weston. “You staying over?”

Weston’s cheeks flushed. His gaze met mine and fire danced in the reflection of his eyes. “Maybe I can take the couch?”

Somehow, I was able to sleep. A shower helped. Fresh pjs. Restlessness wasn’t as much about Weston sleeping downstairs on the couch as it was the lingering vision of Matthias ready to give himself up to his father. For me. And I couldn’t stop replaying the moment he’d been surrounded by that light and taken up.

I jerked upright in bed, heart pounding as the night before played out in my head: flashes of the moment in bold scenes, over and over and over. Was Albert here? Heart leaping in my chest, I searched the room with my gaze, every corner, even leaning over the side of my bed for a look beneath.

No Albert—thankfully.

My pulse started to slow and so did my rapid breathing. What had happened to Matthias?

Would I ever see him again?

The thought of never seeing him hit me like a tidal wave. I refused to let the morbid idea drown me. Until I knew for sure, I wouldn’t fixate on something I didn’t understand.

Then there was Weston, who’d remembered what I’d told him about how to dismiss evil and had gotten rid of Brady. Pride, and respect, both flowed through my heart at that moment for Weston.

I grabbed my phone to check the time: almost noon. Thank heavens it was Saturday.

I got out of bed, curious to sneak a peek at Weston, asleep downstairs.

Passing my reflection in the bathroom mirror, my scraggly hair screamed that I needed to freshen up first. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, careful not to scrape the red scratches on my cheeks and forehead.
Ugh
. I looked like I’d been smacked in the face by a pine tree.

Hair finger-combed, pjs adjusted so I was completely covered and somewhat presentable, I crept down the stairs and into the family room, alert for any sign of Albert. I felt nothing. Saw nothing.

Weston lay on his back, one arm hung off the side of the couch, the other across his chest. His eyes were closed, and his lips were parted a little.

His thick, dark hair barely looked mussed. Unfair.

Suddenly, his eyes popped open, and I jumped.

He looked around, rubbed his face with his hands, then noticed me standing, gaping at him. “Hey.” His voice was rough.

“Hey.” I inched closer, tingling with pleasure at seeing him. The need to kiss him sprung through my body like a cat after warm milk.

He sat up at little, pressing himself into the back of the couch, making room for me. He patted the empty spot next to him.

I sat down, and he eyed my mouth. “Man, what I’d give for some mouthwash right now.”

I laughed. Leaning closer to him, I closed my eyes, and pressed a light kiss on his lips. His hands cupped my face and held me in place.

When the kiss was over, I asked, “Did you sleep okay?”

He nodded, eyes hooded for a moment, his mind appearing to race.

Then his eager expression disappeared and he sat upright and stretched.

“Couch is comfortable, as couches go.”

“Sleep on a lot of them?” I teased, standing.

He grinned. “No.” His cell phone vibrated over and over from the depths of his pocket. He pulled it out. “Probably my mom wondering where I am.”

“I’d want you home every night if you were mine,” I said, then wanted to slap myself. Who says stuff like that? Even if it’s true.

He blinked slowly, his lips curving up. When he read the text, his jaw twitched. He shoved the phone into the depths of his front pocket, as if ignoring whatever his mother had written.

“Um,” I spoke up, “breakfast?”

“Sure.” He followed me into the kitchen and I showed him his options: cold cereals or pancakes.

“You cook?” he teased. “And see angels?”

I laughed. “Ab-so-lute-ly.” Matthias’ smile flashed into my mind momentarily, and wonder squeezed my heart. Where was he? Was he okay? I hoped he wasn’t in any trouble for saving my soul. He should be heralded a hero.

“Zoe?”

I looked up from the mix I was stirring in a bowl. “Sorry, did you say something?”

Weston’s lips quirked. “Yeah. So, tonight’s prom.” He leaned my direction on the counter top, and bit his lower lip. “I’m excited.”

“Me too.” I smiled and finished whisking pancake batter. I retrieved a pan from the cabinet, flicked on the gas and waited for the skillet to heat. The domesticity of what I was doing sent a giddy tingle through my body.

“You want me to tell you what Luke and I planned? Or surprise you?

Or did Luke already spill it?”

I poured flat, baseball-sized pancakes on the sizzling surface of the pan.

“Luke hasn’t said anything, except that he got a tux and Krissy’s dress is blue—crap. I forgot Krissy’s coming.”

“She’ll be here in a few minutes.” Luke’s voice came from my left. He entered the kitchen fully dressed in jeans, button-up striped shirt and freshly washed hair.

“I totally spaced.” I snatched a spatula and flipped the cakes.

“It’s cool.” Luke pulled out a bar stool and joined Weston at the cook-top island where I flipped the finished cakes onto a plate and handed them to Weston.

“Thanks, they look great.”

I handed Luke the spatula. “You finish up, I’m gonna go get ready.” I jogged around the cooking island and back upstairs.

I pulled on jeans, a red thermal and topped it with a green short sleeved tee shirt. As I pulled my hair into a pony tail, the doorbell rang.

Krissy’s timid voice trickled upstairs. Another female voice—her aunt’s—spoke in conjunction with Luke’s.

Krissy and her aunt stood in the entry. A gust of tepid air followed them in. I was surprised the air wasn’t colder after last night, but the sun was out, and white-gold rays poured through every window in cheery beams. A carpet of light fell in through the open front door where Krissy and her aunt stood.

A purple garment bag hung over Krissy’s arm. She wore jeans beneath her coat, and a pair of black flats with little bows. Her hair flowed in soft waves to her shoulders. She radiated. Krissy’s smile gleamed at Luke, who spoke—quite confidently—to the woman. I didn’t see Weston and figured he was in the kitchen, finishing his pancakes.

After introductions and hugs shared between Krissy and Luke and me, Krissy’s aunt Connie turned to me. “I appreciate you having her for the night.

It’s a long drive for me.”

I nodded. “No worries. She’ll hang with me after prom is over.”

“She’s talked about nothing else.” Connie’s fond gaze followed Krissy’s every move, protectively.

I could imagine the difficulty of when to rein in and when to set free where Krissy was concerned. Connie carried the burden of Krissy’s welfare now, and the deep line between her brows and the concentrated way she watched her niece was an undeniable expression of guardianship and family love.

I wished, at that moment, I could tell her Krissy had a guardian angel who also watched over her and offered comfort.

“What have you got planned?” Connie inquired. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Um.” Luke shrugged. “We’re going to go ice skating down at the Olympic rink, then we’ll come back and get ready. After that, we’re taking the girls to dinner and to the dance.”

“That sounds like lots of fun.” Connie’s gaze swept the entry hall, as if she was studying the house in which her niece would be staying for the next twenty-four hours, then her gaze fell on me. “Thank you again, Zoe.”

“You’re welcome.”

Connie faced Krissy and they hugged. “Have fun, sweetheart. Call me when you get in tonight. It doesn’t matter how late it is.”

Krissy nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

Connie touched Krissy’s cheek. “You’re welcome.”

After her aunt left, and Krissy and Luke wrapped in a long hug the moment the front door closed behind the woman. I smiled. Krissy cuddled deep into Luke’s arms. Her soft sniffles pinched my heart. The tender way Luke stroked her hair touched me.

I headed to the kitchen for a hug of my own.

y y y

I shut and locked my bedroom door, then turned and faced Krissy who stood in the middle of my room. “We have to lock them out,” I grinned, “or we’ll never be left alone.”

Krissy nodded, hands wringing. “Okay.”

“See, guys don’t get the whole it’s-time-to-get-ready for prom thing.” I crossed to her, feeling a bit like a mother readying her child for her first day of school. “It’s a girl thing.”

Krissy nodded again.

I glanced at the purple garment bag lying on the foot of my bed. “Let me see your dress.”

She gingerly unzipped the bag and carefully brought out a sky blue dress—I gasped— with a black sash around the waist. My dress. In blue.

Krissy, seeing my shock, asked, “Don’t you like it? Is it ugly?”

“No,” I laughed. “I have the same dress. In lavender.”

“Oh no.” Her hands flew to her lips. “What will we do?”

I set my hands on my hips, eyeing the soft blue dress that looked just as good in blue as it did in lavender. Britt and I had spent weeks shopping for the right dress back in the day, thinking even if the guy was lame, when the dress was perfect the evening had some merit.

That attitude was stupid, I realized. Going to prom just to be going or to be seen, well, that wasn’t my m.o. anymore. It was the relationship that mattered now, the guy was important. At least to me, and I knew Krissy wasn’t going to show off a dress.

“We have great taste, right?” I shrugged.

“Yeah.” Her laugh fluttered out. “We do.”

“First things first.” I placed her dress on the back of my closet door so the wrinkles could fall out. Next, I grabbed my iPod and set it in the dock on top of my dresser. I chose a playlist and cranked the music up. Krissy squeezed her hands together at her chest, a grin spilling from her lips.

I guided her into my bathroom where my palettes of makeup were spread out on the counter along with curling irons, flat irons, various hairbrushes and other beauty necessities girls needed to glamorize.

She let out a gasp. “Wow. Cool.”

“Do you wear makeup much?” I asked, hoping not to overwhelm her.

She stared at the display like a little girl in front of a room full of dolls she wanted.

“No. Dad doesn’t—never allowed it.”

I picked up a foundation powder that matched her skin color, then plucked up a fluffy brush and stood inches from her. Krissy’s gaze swept my face.

“What happened?” She pointed to the scratches on my cheeks, forehead and chin.

“I had a run in with some trees.”

“It looks terrible.”

You’ve gotta love innocent honesty
. “Yeah, that’s what concealer’s for, right?” I joked. “So.” I started brushing the skin-colored powder on her forehead. She pinched her eyes closed. “How are things going, anyway? You like living with your aunt? She seems really cool.” I finished applying the powder and set the brush aside. “That looks awesome.”

She eyed herself in the mirror. “Aunt Connie’s great. We weren’t really close before, but she’s really nice.”

I applied some faded cherry blush to her cheeks and she smiled. “Every girl needs to be in a perpetual blush,” I grinned. “Especially on a date.” I wouldn’t push Krissy, but wanted to know more. I especially wondered what was happening to her dad. I had to resign myself to the fact that it might be a long time before she wanted to talk to me about it.

“All I have to do is be around Luke and I’m blushing,” Krissy said, the color in her cheeks deepening.

“Well.” I patted her shoulder. “Trust me when I say he feels the same about you.”