My Soul to Steal (5 page)

For a moment, he watched me, studying my expression. “Are you asking me to?”

Damn it, why is this conversation so hard?
I didn’t have any right to tell him who not to hang out with! How pissed would I be if he told me to stop hanging out with Emma or Alec?

The answers were there, and they were clear, but I didn’t like them.

“Nash, I just… I can’t see any way for this to play out without one of the three of us—or maybe all three of us—getting hurt.” And possibly actually injured.

Nash exhaled heavily and stared at the table for several seconds before finally dragging his gaze up to meet mine. “Kaylee, I still love you, and I still want you back. I miss you like you wouldn’t believe, and I swear that not seeing you for the past couple of weeks—not even hearing your voice—hurt worse than the nausea and headaches combined. It kills me to sit here knowing I no longer have the right to lean over this table and kiss you. I want to be the first person you call the next time something goes wrong. I want to know that you’re eventually going to be able to forgive me. And I’m not gonna do anything to jeopardize that possibility.” He took a deep breath and held my gaze. “But Sabine needs me…”

“No…” I shook my head, but he spoke over me, refusing to be interrupted.

“Yes, she does. You may not like it or understand it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. And right now, I need her, too.”

“You
need
her?” My nightmare came roaring back like a train about to run me over, and suddenly I wondered if it was more premonition than dream. I summoned anger to disguise the deep ache in my chest. “In what way do you
need
her exactly, and do
not
tell me she scratches the right itch, or I swear I will walk away right now, and this time I won’t look back, Nash.”

He exhaled again and his features suddenly looked heavy, like he couldn’t have formed a smile if he’d wanted to. “I’m not sleeping with her, Kaylee. I swear on my soul.”

I would have been relieved by his admission—and the confirmation I saw in his slowly swirling eyes—but I was too
confused to process much of anything in that moment. “Then why would you possibly need her?”

Nash closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Then he met my gaze over our forgotten lunches. “I’m two weeks clean, and every single day feels like starting all over. It never gets any easier, but yesterday truly sucked for me. Seeing you and not being able to touch you—hardly getting to talk to you… That made everything harder. Including willpower. Last night, I was one breath away from paying someone to cross me into the Netherworld.”

I opened my mouth to ask who he could possibly have hired as a Netherworld ferry, but he continued before I could.

“Don’t ask. There are places you can go. People—kind of—who will do it for the right price.”

Fresh chill bumps crawled over my skin, followed by a bitter wash of revulsion. I hated it that he even knew things like that.

“But my point,” Nash continued, “is that I was trying to talk myself out of it when she showed up on my porch. And we just talked. I swear that’s all that happened, but it was enough. She gave me something to think about, other than how badly I wanted a hit, or an hour alone with you.”

“So she’s a substitute for me?” Suddenly my throat felt thick and hot. Bruised by the words I made myself swallow. How was I supposed to trust the two of them alone together, knowing that? “That’s not fair, Nash. I can’t…”

“I know. You’re not ready to be alone with me, and I understand that. I deserve it. But I need
someone,
Kaylee. I need a friend. And in case you haven’t noticed, no one else is exactly beating down the door to talk to me right now.” His wide-armed gesture took in the entire table, still empty except for us.

“They just don’t know what to say,” I insisted. “People never know what to say when someone close to you dies, and it’s even worse this time, thanks to the rumors about Scott.” Half the student body thought he and I were cheating on Nash and my cousin, Sophie, and that we’d been caught the day of Scott’s infamous breakdown.

“I know, but that doesn’t change anything. I’ve been alone and sick from withdrawal for two weeks, and when I get back to school, people just stare at me and whisper.”

“I get it.” How could I not? But I had Emma and Alec to help distract me from Nash’s absence. And even Tod had been coming around more lately… “What about Tod?” I asked, as the thought occurred to me. “Why can’t you just hang out with your brother?”

“Because he won’t talk to me. I haven’t even seen him since that night. After the Winter Carnival.” When he’d punched Nash for letting Avari possess me over and over. “Since he can’t do anything else for Addy, he’s decided that he’s your white knight, and I don’t think he’s going to forgive me until you do.”

Wow. “I had no idea.”

Nash leaned forward and crossed his arms over the table, staring directly into my eyes. “I’m not making a play for your sympathy. I know I got myself into this. But I need someone to talk to—someone to just hang out with—and I know you’re not ready to play that role for me yet. But Sabine is. And she needs me for the same reason. She’s new here, and she doesn’t know anyone else, and she’s trying to pull herself together. Just like I am.”

I held his gaze, my next question stalled on my tongue, where I wanted it to wither and die. But I had to know. “Did you love her, Nash?”

His pause was barely noticeable. But I noticed. “Yeah. We were only fifteen, but yeah, I loved her.” He blinked, then met my gaze again, letting me see the truth swirling in his. “But that was years ago. She’s just a friend now, Kaylee.”

My leg bounced under the table, uncontrollably. “Have you told her that?”

“Yeah. And eventually, it’ll actually sink in. Look, I know she makes you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry about that. And if it’s going to mean losing my second chance with you, I’ll tell her to go away. But I’m asking you not to make me do that.”

I bristled. “I can’t make you do anything, Nash.” Though the same could not be said for him and his Influence.

He frowned. “You know what I mean.”

“You want my blessing to strike up a friendship with your ex-girlfriend. The first girl you ever slept with, who’s still in love with you and doesn’t even deny it. Does that sum it up?”

Another long exhale. “Yeah. I think that covers it.”

If I said yes, I’d be giving him permission to spend time with his hot, willing ex. If I said no, I’d be denying him what he needs to work through his addiction.

How did I even get into this mess?

He’d left me no real choice, unless I was ready to let him go. Or willing to pretend that the past six weeks of my life had never happened. And I couldn’t do that, even if I wanted to. Not yet.

“Fine. Hang out with Sabine. But if this thing goes beyond friendship and support—”

I’ll what?
Leave him to find solace in her arms? Or her bed? That’s exactly what she wanted, and in spite of Nash’s good intentions, it wouldn’t take him long to get over me,
considering the kind of comfort she’d offer. I had no doubt of that.

“It won’t,” Nash insisted, saving me from grasping for a viable threat, and I hated the sudden surge of relief in his eyes. How could he not see what she was really like?

“Whatever. But don’t expect me to spend time with the two of you.” Though maybe Tod would, if I asked him. He couldn’t watch them every second, but surely he’d see enough to report back on the true nature of their relationship….

Great, now I’m spying on Nash
. I should have been ashamed. Instead, I was just…scared. Scared of losing him—even though I’d pushed him away—because now she was there to catch him.

“Just…be careful, okay? You may be looking for some kind of Netherworldly AA sponsor, but she’s looking for trouble. I saw it in her eyes.”

Nash’s brows shot up, and a smile tugged at one side of his mouth. “That’s not what you saw in her eyes. There’s something else we need to talk about, but I don’t want to do it here.”

However, before he could elaborate, footsteps sounded at my back. A second later, Sabine appeared on my right, then settled onto the bench next to Nash. Her silverware clattered as she dropped her tray on the table.

“I don’t know how you guys can eat this shit. It’s an open campus, right? Let’s go get some real burgers.”

“It
is
an open campus,” Nash said, both brows raised. “I almost forgot.” The prohibition against off-campus lunch—the result of a wreck in the parking lot the second week of school—had expired with the fall semester.

“There’s only twenty minutes left in lunch.” It was all I could do to speak to her civilly. Every time I looked at her,
I saw her making out with Nash in front of my locker, and that bitter, acrid fear from my dream sloshed around in my stomach, rotting the remains of my breakfast.

“Yeah, but you have study hall next, right?” Sabine said, ignoring me in favor of Nash. “And a decent burger would totally be worth a tardy in Spanish.”

Nash glanced at me for an opinion, but I only shook my head. I couldn’t afford another tardy in English. “Maybe tomorrow,” he said at last, and Sabine scowled.

“Fine. But I’m not going to eat this crap.” She shoved her tray across the table, and one corner of it knocked my open soda over. Coke poured from the bottle and splash-fizzed all over the front of my shirt. I jumped up to avoid getting drenched, and Sabine stood, too.

“Here, take my napkin.” She plucked a single, thin cafeteria napkin from her tray and dropped it onto the table, where it was instantly soaked.

I glared at Nash and would have been appeased a bit by how miserable he looked—if I weren’t busy blotting my shirt, while Coke pooled where I’d sat a second earlier.

“I’ll get more napkins,” he muttered, then jogged toward the cafeteria, leaving me alone with Sabine.

“Sorry about the mess.” Sabine stepped calmly around the table and added Nash’s napkin to the puddle on my bench seat, apparently oblivious to everyone else in the quad now staring at us. “I just needed a chance to talk to you, girl-to-girl,” she said, stepping too close to me so no one else would hear. “I figure it’s best to get this out in the open.”

“What?” I couldn’t think beyond the cold, sticky spots on my shirt.

“It’s cute, how he still thinks he loves you. Very chivalrous. Very Nash. But if you’re not gonna make your move, don’t
blame me for making mine.” She shrugged, and I saw that dark flash of…something in her eyes again. “Love, war, and all that. Right?”

Was she serious? Was this an open declaration of her intent to take my boyfriend? My kind-of boyfriend? Just like that?

My mouth opened and closed.
Say something!
I couldn’t let her have the last word—that first little victory.

“So…which is this?” I asked, frustrated to realize that I sounded shell-shocked. “Love, or war?”

Sabine’s smooth forehead wrinkled in surprise. “Both!” She smiled, a glaring ray of sunshine beneath storm-cloud eyes. “When it’s good, it’s always both. And Nash is so very, very
good
.” Her eyes widened in mock regret, like she’d just let some vital secret out of the bag. “Oh, but you wouldn’t know, would you?”

My face flushed. “He told you…?” Hadn’t he already humiliated me enough?

Sabine shook her head slowly, exaggerating a show of sympathy. “He didn’t have to. You may as well have a shiny white
V
stamped on your forehead.”

Suddenly I hated her. Truly hated her, in spite of my generally forgiving temperament and everything Nash swore she’d been through.

Unfortunately, my abject hatred saw fit to express itself in utter speechlessness.

“Anyway, I don’t have many girlfriends, so when this is all over, if you wanna hang out, I’m totally willing to let bygones be…well, bygone.” She watched me expectantly—completely seriously—and I could only stare until Sabine blinked and shrugged again. “Or not. Either way, good luck!”

She reached out with her right hand and shook mine before I recovered the presence of mind to jerk away from her grip.
When my skin touched hers, Sabine blinked, and her eyes stayed closed just an instant too long. When they opened and focused on me, her smile swelled, her irises darkened, and my chill bumps returned with a vengeance.

I pulled away from her and almost backed into Emma. “What happened?” Em asked, holding out a handful of napkins.

“I knocked her Coke over,” Sabine said, as Nash jogged across the grass toward us. They soaked up the mess while I carried the soggy remains of my lunch to the trash can against the wall, desperate to put some distance between me and my new least favorite person in the whole world. In either world.

At least Avari’d never invaded my school.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered under my breath, as I dumped my empty bottle and my ruined hamburger into the can. “
That
was Sabine,” Tod said from my left, and I jumped, nearly dropping my sticky tray.

“Something’s wrong with her,” I whispered, when I’d recovered from the surprise. “If she wasn’t human, I’d swear that…”

“Human?” Tod’s brows rose. “She’s not human, Kay. Not even close. Nash didn’t tell you?”

Crap
. He’d tried to tell me something about Sabine. Tried twice, but she’d suddenly shown up to prevent him both times. “What is she?” I said, turning to watch the cleanup effort under way at our table as my heart tried to sink into my stomach.

“She’s your worst Nightmare, Kaylee,” Tod said, his frown widening. “Literally.”

I
STOMPED THROUGH
the empty hall, each step putting the cafeteria farther behind me. But I couldn’t outrun anger and humiliation.

Sabine wasn’t human. The one advantage I’d thought I had over her was that Nash and I had bonded through a mutual lack of humanity, which set us apart from everyone else at school. I knew what he really was and what he could do. I knew things about him that he could never tell anyone else.

But evidently, so did she. And Nash hadn’t bothered to tell me.

Oh, he’d started to a couple of times, but I couldn’t help thinking that if he’d really wanted me to know, he wouldn’t have let Sabine’s timely interruptions stop him.

Tod had started to tell me everything, but I’d cut him off. I wanted to hear it from Nash, when we had enough time and privacy for me to demand real answers. I needed to yell at him, but I didn’t want to do it in front of Sabine. I couldn’t let her know that her declaration was getting to me, nor was
I willing to let her see me mad at Nash. She would only take that wedge and drive it deeper.

I turned the corner and stomped past two open classroom doors, ignoring the chair squeaks and whispers from inside as my thoughts raced, my cheeks flaming with anger. The door to the parking lot called to me from the end of the hall. There were only five minutes left in lunch, and then I could escape into my English class, where no one could challenge me, lie to me, or threaten to take my boyfriend.

I had both hands on the door’s press bar when Nash shout-whispered my name from behind. “Kaylee, wait!” I froze, then turned slowly. So much for escape.

He jogged to catch up with me and I crossed both arms over my chest, displaying my anger, in case he hadn’t picked up on it yet.

“She’s not human?” I demanded softly, when he came to a stop inches away. “Is that what you were going to tell me?”

“Along with some specifics, yeah.” He shrugged apologetically. “I tried to tell you earlier, but…”

“Sabine got in the way, right? I have a feeling that’s about to become routine.”

Nash exhaled slowly. “Can we go somewhere and talk? Please? I want to explain everything, but I need to be able to speak to you alone for more than a few minutes at a time.” And from the frustrated twist of color in his eyes, I knew he wanted to talk about more than just Sabine’s species. We hadn’t really spoken—not like we used to—in more than two weeks.

I missed talking to him.

“Please,” he repeated. “Skipping one English class won’t hurt anything.”

Talking to him without Sabine around was
exactly
what
I needed. I opened my mouth to say yes—then snapped my jaw closed before I could form a single word, terrified by the sudden, familiar thread of pain and primeval need winding its way up my throat.

No!

“Kaylee?” Nash whispered, while I glanced around the hall frantically. It was empty, but the dark panic inside me continued to swell. Someone nearby was going to die. Soon, based on the strength of the scream clawing its way up my throat.

I clamped one hand over my mouth and aimed a wide-eyed, desperate look at Nash. He knew the signs. His brow furrowed and his irises began to swirl with brown and green eddies of distress. “Who is it? Can you tell?”

I rolled my eyes and gestured with one hand at the empty hall at his back, trying to swallow the raw pain scraping its way toward my mouth as the scream demanded its exit.

Nash whirled around, and when he reached for my free hand, I let him have it. We raced past first one closed classroom door, then another, stopping to peek through the windows, but found nothing unusual. Until we got to the third door. I peered through the glass over Nash’s shoulder to see Mrs. Bennigan slumped over at her desk, where she’d obviously fallen asleep during her lunch break. Her back rose and fell with each breath.

“Is it her?” Nash whispered, but I couldn’t tell with the closed door separating us. So he pushed it open softly.

Shadows enveloped the sleeping teacher like a cocoon of darkness, where there’d been nothing a second before. Panic crashed over me, cold and unyielding. The scream reverberated in my head with blinding pain. A thin ribbon of sound began
to leak from between my sealed lips, then spilled between the fingers covering them.

My hand clenched Nash’s. Mrs. Bennigan was going to die. Any minute. And there was nothing we could do without condemning someone else to her fate instead. Because while Nash and I—a male and a female
bean sidhe
—could work together to restore a person’s soul, we couldn’t save one life without taking another.

“Come on.” Nash took off down the hall, and I let him tug me all the way into the parking lot, one hand still clamped over my mouth. The urge to scream faded a little with each step, but even when the school door closed behind us—locking us out—the demand was still there, the unvoiced scream still scratching the back of my throat and reverberating in my teeth.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and I shook my head, clenching my teeth so hard my jaw ached. Of course I wasn’t okay. Someone was dying—another teacher—and there was nothing I could do but wait for her soul to be claimed by whichever reaper had come for her, so the screaming fit would pass.

“Can I…? Will you let me help?” He stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the hall through the glass door, but I shook my head again. He couldn’t help without using his Influence, and I couldn’t let him do that to me again. Even with the best of intentions.

And anyway, I didn’t need any help. I’d been handling it on my own just fine.

But when he pulled me close and silently wrapped his arms around me, I let him hold me. He felt so good. So warm and strong, as I battled the dark need trying to fight its way free from my body. So long as he didn’t talk, holding me was fine. Holding me was
good
. It reminded me of the way things used
to be between us, and that gave me something to think about, other than the fact that Mrs. Bennigan sat alone in her empty classroom, dying. And no one else had any idea.

The bell rang while Nash still held me, and for a moment, the shrill sound of it battled the ruthless screech still ringing inside my head. He pulled me to one side, out of sight from the hall, and I twisted in his grip to peek through the door.

The hall filled quickly, but I saw no faces. I couldn’t tear my focus from that open doorway, waiting for someone to go inside and find her. And finally, as the excruciating pain began to fade in my throat and my jaw began to loosen, someone did. A freshman girl I knew only by sight stepped into the classroom.

I opened my mouth and inhaled. Nash’s grip on me tightened from behind, offering wordless comfort. And maybe taking a little for himself.

And only seconds after she’d entered the room, the girl raced back into the hall. Her shout was muted by the glass between us and was only a fraction of the shrill sound I could have produced, but the crowd in the hallway froze. The dull static of gossip went silent. Everyone turned to look.

Nash pulled me away from the door as the first teacher came running, and I slid down the brick wall, my jacket catching on the rough edges. For the first time, I noticed the cold, and that my nose was running. “Are you okay?” he asked again, dropping to the ground in front of me, and that time I could answer.

“No. And neither is Mrs. Bennigan.”

“What are the chances that this is a coincidence?” he asked, and I sucked in a deep breath, as if I’d actually emptied my lungs on the unvoiced scream.

“I don’t believe in coincidence.” Not anymore. “And even if
I did, this is too much. Two teachers in one day? Something’s wrong.” I looked up to find a steady, tense swirl of green snaking through his irises. “Any idea what?”

He shook his head. “And I’m not sure I want to know. We’ve had enough to deal with this year, and I’m not…” His voiced faded into pained silence and he blinked, then started over. “Besides, this has nothing to do with us. Something’s obviously going on, but it could be bad bean dip in the teachers’ lounge, for all we know. Or some weird virus Wesner passed to Bennigan. Don’t they sing in the same church choir, or something?”

I nodded slowly, trying to convince myself. Just because we’d lost four classmates to Netherworld interference didn’t mean Mr. Wesner’s and Mrs. Bennigan’s deaths involved any extrahuman elements, right? Surely I was just letting my own fears and past experiences color my perception.

Please, please let me be overreacting….

But what if I wasn’t?

“We better go in,” Nash said, shoving himself to his feet.

“Yeah.” Still half-stunned, we started around the building toward the cafeteria doors, which were kept unlocked during all lunch periods. And it wasn’t until nearly an hour later, as I sat in my English class, that I remembered what Nash and I had been discussing when my
bean sidhe
heritage got in the way. Sabine’s species.

We’d been interrupted again.

A
FTER SCHOOL
, I
STOOD
in the parking lot next to my car with my keys in my hand, dialing up my courage as I waited for Nash to come out of the building. Most of my afternoon teachers had been reeling from the death of two colleagues in one day, and they’d made no attempt to actually involve
students in their lesson plans. Which gave me plenty of time to avoid thinking about Mrs. Bennigan by planning my first move in Sabine’s sadistic little game of love and war.

She’d laid down the challenge, and I could either rise to it or slink home alone and call Nash later for the scoop on his ex’s inhuman specifics. And after the day I’d had, I just didn’t feel like slinking anywhere.

I knew I’d made the right decision when they came through the double glass doors together. Sabine was laughing and Nash was watching her, and even from across the lot, I recognized the light in his expression.

That was the way he used to look at me.

I got into my car—newly made over by the local body shop, after Doug Fuller had totaled it a week before his death—and dropped my books onto the rear floorboard. Then I cranked the engine and took off across the lot as fast as I dared, one eye on potential pedestrian casualties, the other on Nash and Sabine, as he said something I couldn’t hear. Something that made her laugh harder and made him watch her even more closely.

My car squealed to a stop in front of them as they hit the end of the sidewalk, two feet away. Nash looked surprised, but Sabine actually jumped back, and a tiny granule of bitter satisfaction formed in the pit of my stomach, like a grain of sand in an oyster. If I nourished it properly, would it grow into a pearl?

I didn’t have automatic windows, so I had to shift into Park and lean across the passenger seat to shove the door open. The awkward movement dulled the sharp edge of my dramatic gesture, but I made up for that when Nash leaned down to see me beneath the roof of the car.

“Get in,” I said, and he raised one brow.

“He came with me,” Sabine said, before he could make up his mind.

“And I’m taking him home. Get in the car, Nash. We need to talk.”

Sabine looked impressed in spite of herself, until he glanced from her to me, then back to her. “What did I miss?”

“This is about what
I
missed,” I said, shifting into Drive while the engine idled. “Get in the car.”

Nash turned back to Sabine. “What did you do?” His voice held a single blended note of caution and curiosity, which made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. He wasn’t even surprised to know she’d done something.

She grinned, one hand propped on a half-exposed hip that evidently felt no cold. “You don’t really want the answer to that. Not yet.”

“What do I really want?” Nash asked, humoring her, whereas I wanted to roll my car over her foot.

“You want to know why Kaylee’s suddenly grown a pair.”

He frowned. “Enlighten me.”

She twisted one mismatched earring and shrugged. “I laid the cards out on the table. It’s only fair that she knows the stakes, right?”

Except she’d left one of those cards out of her disclosure. They both had.

“Damn it, Bina.”

“What?” She rolled her eyes, like
I
was the one being unreasonable. “I told her the truth. You can’t get mad over the truth.”

Oh, yes, we could. The truths between me and Nash hurt as badly as the lies.

Nash dropped his bag on my passenger’s side floorboard and turned back to Sabine. “I’ll see you later.”

Sabine—Bina? Really?—scowled, then leaned in with one hand on the roof of my car, wearing an ironic, almost respectful smile. “Well played, Kaylee.”

Nash got in and closed the door, and I drove off, leaving her standing there alone.

“I’m not playing her game, no matter what it looks like,” I said, as I turned left out of the parking lot.

“Good. The only way to win is by refusing to play. Trust me.” But he was smiling as he said it, like she was a toddler whose antics were still cute and harmless.

I did not find Sabine cute. Or harmless.

“Advice from your days in Fort Worth?”

Nash ran one hand through his thick brown hair, leaving it tussled in all the right places. “Based on observation, not experience. She doesn’t play games with me. She doesn’t need to.”

“She’s been back in your life for one day, and you sound like she was never gone.” I braked at a red light, and unease crawled up my spine. How deep must their connection have been, if they could pick up right where they’d left off more than two years before?

He exhaled heavily. “How am I supposed to answer that?”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Nash twisted in his seat to face me, and his expression made my stomach churn. “We got caught up last night. And I’m sure once she gets used to the fact that I want you in my life, she’ll—”

“No, she won’t.” I’d just met her, and I understood that much. My hand tightened on the wheel and I took a right at
the next light. “She threw down the gauntlet, Nash. Like I’m gonna fight her for you.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Kay. But it’s not a physical fight she wants.”