The Soul Healer (3 page)

Throwing his hands up in defeat, Rafe slumped in his seat and shut his eyes, leaving me to find out what was wrong with Evan.

Wonderful.

Tucking one leg under the other, I scrutinized Evan again. His eyes were burning brightly, like he had a fever, and his breath
stank
, so I concentrated on breathing through my nose. “Why are you angry?”

“Why? Why am I angry?” Evan frowned, looking like he had forgotten the reason. I rolled my eyes, wondering if I had made a mistake. Maybe I should have let Rafe kick Evan out of the car, forcing him to find his own way home. “Ah!” Evan suddenly shouted, making me jump. “It’s because everything is so screwed up, Gabi. I screwed up…” His body shook with silent sobs.

Oh my god, now he was crying.

“Um, o
kay.” I held out a hand, trying to awkwardly pat Evan on the shoulder. “There…there?” I glanced at Rafe; his eyes were still closed as he hummed quietly under his breath.
Thanks a lot for your help, Rafe.
Then again, he was probably so used to Evan’s theatrics that he was immune to them. “Do you want to tell me what happened? Is it about Alexandra?”

Everything went still in the car, like I had just declared my love for demons. Evan lifted his head to stare at me, showing he had been fake crying, the jerk. Rafe’s eyes had popped open, but still he remained quiet.

“Well, is it?” I asked, unable to take the silence any longer. What else could he be upset about? It was Christmas, Rafe was out celebrating (well,
trying
to celebrate) with his girlfriend, while Alexandra Chen, Evan’s girlfriend, was in a coma. I would never admit this out loud, but I actually couldn’t blame Evan for acting this way.

“Her parents are moving her back to Manhattan,” Evan said quietly, picking at a hole in his jeans.

“Wait, what?” Rafe turned around quickly, staring at his best friend in shock. “Since when?”

“This week. A few days ago. I don’t remember.” Evan waved his hand dismissively. “Does it matter? I screwed up, man. Now she’s gone, gone, gone. Dammit, Rafe, why did you throw my booze away?”

Rafe and I exchanged a glance. Alexandra’s parents had moved her here after the demon fight that had broken her spine. Evan and Rafe had followed, unbeknownst to her parents, but if I was correctly interpreting Evan’s rambles (and it was hard to do that when he was sober, never mind drunk), he had somehow tripped up and been discovered. Maybe it was just me, but it was a little drastic to move her again just because Evan was here. I knew they hated everything about Silver Moon and the hunters, despite being former hunters themselves, but come on. What was the point in keeping them separated
now
? It wasn’t like they could run away together!

“So what are you going to do?” Rafe asked quietly. “Move back to Manhattan?”

“Maybe.” Evan was staring at me when he answered, and I shifted uncomfortably. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. Sadness mixed with regret mixed with something I couldn’t quite read. I hoped he wasn’t thinking about asking Rafe to go back to New York City with him, because then I would probably have to kill him. He exhaled loudly. “I don’t know. Everything is just…wrong.” He was still looking at me when his face scrunched up. Oh crap, he was really going to start crying now.

“Evan—”

The blonde pushed open the car door and stumbled out into the frigid darkness without another word. Rafe groaned. “That moron! What is he doing?”

“Probably trying to find the bottle you threw away.”

“Probably.” Rafe paused. “Should we…leave him alone?” He glanced at me. “We
are
on a date here…”

And we had been just about to celebrate when Evan had interrupted us with his sob story
. (
How
had he found us, anyway? He’d probably used a tracking spell, which was creepy…) But it was obvious he was hurting, and letting him go off to drown his sorrows in a bottle was pretty damn mean. Even for me.

“No,” I said, already reaching for my door. “No, let’s go after him before he does something stupid.”

“Too late for that,” Rafe muttered.

Chapter Four

The pavement was slippery from the falling snow, so I waited for Rafe to come around to my side of the car before attempting to walk anywhere. Wrapping my hand around his muscular arm, I clung to my boyfriend as we set off after Evan, our boots making a soft crunching noise in the snow. The wind had picked up, sending icy fingers down my neck with a vengeance. Cursing, I huddled closer to Rafe, who didn’t seem to mind at all.

This would almost be romantic if it wasn’t, you know, fifty degrees below zero. Stupid winter. Stupid cold weather. Stupid snow.

Stupid Evan.

We followed his footprints to the frozen lake, and my stomach twisted. Evan wasn’t planning on throwing himself into the icy waters, was he? I wouldn’t put it past him. I really wouldn’t.

But, no, as we came over the hill, we found him sitting there, his precious booze in hand once more. Rafe made a noise, something halfway between a sigh and a groan, and extracted his arm from me. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“And you’re going to make me stand here in the cold, waiting for you?” Why hadn’t I stayed in the car with the
heat
?

Rafe grimaced. “Two minutes. Then we’ll go back and finish our date, okay?” He coughed. “After we drive him home.” I made a face, and Rafe quickly added, “I’ll buy you another hot chocolate, to replace the one he made you spill.”

My lips curled into a wicked grin. “Deal.” I pointed to Evan, who was now throwing snowballs onto the frozen surface of the lake. “Go. Talk. Drag him back to the car and haul his butt home so we can get back to the
kissing
, Rafe.”

At that, Rafe sprinted after Evan, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

My good humor quickly evaporated as I watched Rafe settle down next to Evan, already talking. Even from here I could see the concern on his face. Setting aside the fact that Evan had crashed our date, I really did feel bad for him. The only reason Evan had moved here was to be near Alexandra, and now he was losing her all over again. What would happen if he did decide to move back to Manhattan? Would Rafe follow?

My heart stumbled a bit at that. Rafe wouldn’t go, would he? A few months ago, he probably would, but now, I’d like to think he’d stay for me. Or was I being ridiculous? We’d only been together three months. Was I presuming too much?

I had no freaking clue. Rafe was my first boyfriend, the first guy I had ever cared about, and I was so scared I was going to do something or say something to screw up this wonderful, magical thing we had going. I didn’t want to be the clingy, desperate type, but I really, really didn’t want him to move away.

From me.

Oh god, I was being stupid again. Why did I always think I was going to lose everything good in my life?

Oh, yeah, that’s right, because Mom left. And if Mom left, when life was absolutely, freaking perfect, then why wouldn’t Rafe leave?

My throat hurt as I fought off my tears. I didn’t want to start crying on our last night together before I went off to Vermont, didn’t want to make Rafe feel guilty, even though this stupid family trip I no longer wanted to go on wasn’t his fault
at all
. I wanted to see him off with a smile and stop being this stupid, annoying girl who couldn’t live one week without her boyfriend!

A sudden gust of wind slammed against me, causing me to take a few stumbling steps forward. “Rafe,” I called. I was going to let him know I was heading back into the car—this winter wonderland had quickly lost its charm. He didn’t hear me, so I walked closer, about to call his name again when a freaking snowball pelted me in the side of my face. Shocked, I stumbled, only just stopping myself from falling face first into the snow.

Are you kidding me!
Who the hell was starting a snowball fight? My cheek already throbbing, I whirled to my right, screaming my outrage, but my cries faded to a whimper as I stared at my attacker.

A demon.

Of course.

In the dark and with the falling snow, it was a little hard to see the demon clearly, but it was a large, hulking shape, with arms so long they nearly touched
the ground. It had wings (wings!) protruding from its back—long, iridescent things that resembled cicada wings. Ugh, cicadas. If that thing had an insect face, I was going to flip the hell out.

Buggy t
ook a step closer to me. My demon-hunting boyfriend and his demon-hunting drunk best friend were still talking, unaware of what was going on. “
Rafe
,” I said again, loudly, and more than a little annoyed. Could this evening get any worse? “A little help here? With this
demon
?”

That
got his attention, and I heard Rafe shout my name as he raced toward us. The demon cocked its head to the side, and its wings began vibrating with a low thrum that set me on edge. It dropped into a crouch before launching itself into the air to meet Rafe.

There was a flash of silver, bright enough to make me squeeze my eyes shut, as Rafe summoned his sword, meeting Buggy as it flew at him. Evan was half a step behind Rafe, a blue fireball clutched in one hand. And
, oh my god, he was still holding his bottle in his left hand.
Priorities, Evan! You can drink later!
Actually, should Evan even be participating in the fight? I was more than a little afraid he would end up accidentally setting Rafe on fire.

The fireball flew through the air, narrowly missing scorching my face.

Or me.

“WHAT THE HELL, EVAN
!” I screeched, this time falling flat on my butt in my attempt to get away from his magical flying fireball of doom. The snow immediately soaked through my pants—because, you know, I wasn’t cold enough to begin with. I struggled to my feet, slipping a few times as I gritted my teeth in frustration.

Someone was going to die tonight.

“Evan, watch it!” Rafe roared, kicking at Buggy. It executed a back flip, flying out of reach before Rafe could chop its head off. “In fact, stay out of the fight altogether! You’re too drunk!”

“I’m not drunk!” the blonde protested, already summoning another fireball.

“Then why did you almost set
my
face
on
fire
!” I screamed at him.

Evan gave me a sloppy grin. “Come on Gabs, I was aiming for—” He blinked. “What are we calling this one?”

“Buggy,” I said, as Rafe swung his sword, narrowly missing clipping the demon’s arm.

“What? Why? That’s an awful name.”

I pointed at the demon. “It has bug wings. I don’t know about its face, though; can’t see it from here. Rafe, what does it look like up close?”

My boyfriend, still in the middle of fighting Buggy, only managed to grunt in response.

“Rafe, she asked you a question,” Evan said, tossing the fireball up into the air and catching it. “It’s not polite to ignore her.”

“I’m a little busy, you ass!”

“Oh, what’s that? Are you asking me to help you?”

“No, I told you to stay out of—”

But Evan, being Evan, didn’t listen to Rafe. Swaying, he lifted the hand holding the fireball and hurled it as hard as he could (toward the demon this time, at least). Teetering forward with the momentum, Evan tried to catch himself, but he ended up falling on top of his booze (yeah, he was
still
holding onto it) and the bottle shattered with a loud crash.

Oh crap.
For one heart-stopping moment, I thought the glass had pierced his chest, but then Evan, his face buried in the snow, started laughing, the sound muffled. I exchanged a glance with Rafe, who had paused in his fight with Buggy. He shook his head in disgust before lifting his sword and charging the demon again.

The fireball had completely missed Buggy, by the way.

I marched over to Evan and grabbed the collar of his jacket, hauling him backwards before he got like, hypothermia and had to get his nose chopped off. “Evan, what is wrong with you!” When he didn’t stop laughing, I shook him as hard as I could. “Evan!”

He hiccupped, finally quieting down. “Oh look, I’m bleeding.” He held up his hand and I sucked in a sharp breath. Part of the bottle
had
cut Evan—a large, brown shard protruded from his palm, and blood dripped from the wound onto the ground, the crimson color a jarring contrast to the white snow.

“Evan,” I said again, nervously. I looked at my gloved hands. Would they start glowing? Was I about to go into a trance and heal him?

Behind us, the demon let out a shriek of pain, and I turned around just in time to see Rafe’s sword slice cleanly through its neck. We were luckily far enough away to avoid being hit with green monster goo, but some of it did splatter poor Rafe. He winced, wiping the crap off his face.

Evan cleared his throat. “Gabi.” There was something strange about Evan’s tone of voice, something that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. He held up his hand, practically shoving the dirty, bleeding thing into my face, and I recoiled. “Look, I’m hurt. You can heal me, can’t you? Huh, huh? Can’t you? Please, pretty please?”