Personal Demons 2 - Original Sin (5 page)

Frannie

The early shift at Ricco's is always so much easier. Even so, I stink when I get home and head straight to the shower. I feel almost human again in a tank top and jeans when I come back to my room.

Matt is sprawled across my bed on his stomach with my earbuds in, scanning through the menu on my iPod. He lifts his head and grins at me, then starts thrashing his head up and down, sandy curls flying, to the beat of the music only he can hear. “In my next life, I'm going to be a rock star!” he yells.

I rush over and yank the earphones out of his ears. “Shhh! You want the whole world to hear you?”

His lips purse and his eyes widen. “Oops.”

I crack a smile as I realize what he said. “In your next life?”

“Yeah.”

“You get another life?” I say, sitting next to him on the bed.

“No. Not in the real sense, anyway. But when I'm done with my gig as guardian, maybe I'll start a rock band.”

“There are rock bands in Heaven?” I say, trying to picture it. “That doesn't sound like the ‘choirs of angels' that they talk about at church.”

He snorts. “No choirs.”

“So the Heavenly refrain is more along the lines of ‘Highway to Hell'?” I laugh, thinking about how Father O'Donnell would take that news. When I look back at Matt, he's grinning at me. “What?”

“Do you remember when we tried to sell Maggie to the neighbors?” he says.

I laugh at the memory. “'Cause we wanted a puppy, and Mom said to start saving our money.”

“And Mom made us go talk to Father Mahoney about it—”

“And he told us we weren't asking enough for her,” I finish for him, cracking up.

He rolls onto his back, laughing. Then he props up onto his elbows. His laughter fades, but his smile is bright. “Father Mahoney had the right idea. Heaven isn't nearly as stuff y as people are led to believe.”

I flop onto my back next to him and stare at the ceiling, wondering how things would have been now if Matt were still alive. Up till Mary moved out last month, I was the only sister without a roommate, because mine died. Even though I'm sure Matt and I wouldn't be sharing a room anymore, I know he'd still be my best friend.

“I've been thinking about this Sway thing….” I trail off, not sure how to continue.

“Yeah, I saw that fight in the park last week. Nice job, sis.” He grins, and I want to punch him.

“You know what? Just forget it.”

“Sorry,” he says, but he's still grinning. “So what about it?”

I take a deep breath. “If I turned Luc mortal—”

He rolls on his side and shoves my shoulder. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

I hear the laugh in his voice, and suddenly I'm furious. I sit up on the bed and glare at him. “Jesus, Matt! I'm trying to be serious here.”

His eyes go wide and he draws back from me. “Sorry…”

“I want you to be mortal too,” I blurt. “I want you back.”

His eyes go wider and he sits up. He just stares at me for a long minute and neither of us says anything. Finally, he starts to shake his head. “No, Frannie. It's too late for that. I have a job now.” He scoots closer. “An important one. And I couldn't go back to being your brother anyway. If I were mortal, I'd have to start over again somewhere else. This way, at least I get to be with you.” Then a smile blooms on his face. “And being an angel has its perks.”

My heart sinks, but I know he's right. “So, this is as close to having you back as I'm gonna get.”

“It's not so bad. I can still give you wet willies,” he says, then licks his finger and sticks it in my ear.

I jump off the bed and grab a tissue from the box on the nightstand. “Aww! That's disgusting,” I say, wiping the spit off my ear.

“Angel spit has magical properties. You should keep that.” He gestures to the tissue with a grin.

I glare at him, holding the contaminated tissue by the corner at arm's length. “Such as…?”

His face draws wide in surprise. “I think I might have just lied.”

“I knew you were no angel,” I say, chucking the tissue in the trash just as Mom calls up the stairs that dinner is ready. I shoot a grin over my shoulder, and Matt disappears as I pull the door open and head downstairs.

I get to the kitchen just as the back door screen slams. I look up to see Grandpa.

“Grandpa!” I squeal, and run over to hug him.

“There's my girl,” he says as Maggie steps into the room, and I don't miss the disappointment on her face. I've always been Grandpa's favorite, since Matt and I started working on cars with him when we were little—not that we were much help back then. None of my sisters were ever interested in joining us in the garage, so since Matt died ten years ago, it's just been Grandpa and me every Sunday after church. My midnight blue '65 Mustang convertible was our last restoration project.

“Did you get that Shelby?” I ask, dragging him to the table by the hand.

“On its way.” He pulls up a chair next to mine and sits.

“Is it a total rebuild?”

“Yep. Pretty much a mess. Don't know what I'm gonna do without ya when you go off to college.”

“Well, don't think about pulling that engine without our help.”

“
Our
help?”

I cringe. “Luc was gonna meet us at your house after church.”

“Luc wants in, huh?” he says, rubbing his balding head.

I reach up and brush his gray fringe back into place. “If that's okay…?”

“Not sure I want to share my best mechanic.”

My cringe deepens into a pleading grimace.

He breaks into a deep belly laugh. “I can see it's an all-or-nothin' proposition.”

“He's really good. You won't regret it.”

His blue eyes sparkle. “We'll see.”

Mom steps up behind him, wiping her hands on her apron and leaning down to kiss his cheek before settling in at her end of the table. She brushes a stray lock of sandy blond hair back into place before picking up Grandpa's plate and serving the chicken.

Watching her, I can't help but think about how much she's changed in the last few weeks. She seems so much more alive, like maybe she's finally letting Matt go. There's a little pang in my heart as I glance around the kitchen, knowing he's here and wishing I could share him with her.

She hands Grandpa a heaping plate of food. “Glad you could make it for dinner, Dad. I don't think you're eating as well as you should.”

“I'm eatin' just fine,” he says, laying his plate on the table and patting his roundish belly.

Dad comes in from the family room as the rest of my sisters—all but Mary—find spots around the table. “Ooh. My favorite. Chicken and dumplings,” he says, tucking his napkin into his lap.

Food is passed and everyone eats, but the Cavanaugh table is never a quiet one. Grace and Maggie fight over whose night it is to clean the kitchen while Dad gives Kate a hard time about her lack of a summer job this year. Everyone has something to say—all at the same time. Mom turns to me when there's finally a lull in the conversation.

“So what are you all dressed up for?”

I look down at my black silk tank and jeans. I wonder what it says about me that this is “dressed up.”

“Luc and I are going out to the Gallaghers' tonight with Taylor, Riley, and Trev.”

“Trev? Riley's still seeing Trevor?”

I can't help cracking a smile. “Yep, hot and heavy.”

“And Taylor's okay about Riley with her little brother?”

“Getting there.” That's actually a little bit of a lie. Taylor's still pretty pissed. But that's Taylor—not great in the forgiveness category.

Taylor was the first person I met in Haden, and she's been the perfect friend for me. We moved here not long after Matt died. I was pretty messed up at the time, so it took me a while to realize that my mom was messed up too. What I know now is that Dad moved us here so Mom could be closer to her parents.

Anyway, Taylor was just what I needed. Neither of us is big into sharing our feelings or crap like that. Riley came along much later and is kind of our accidental friend. She and all her
feelings
are dangerous. But I can't help being happy for her that she's found “the one.” She always knew he was out there. It's just too bad for her that it turned out to be Taylor's brother.

“Chase is picking me up too, Mom,” Kate says. I look over what she's wearing and push away the tinge of jealousy. She's always totally amazing. In a stroke of universal unfairness, Kate got not only the looks in our family, but also the height. She's the only one of us sisters to break five-six.

“Don't his parents get sick of all those parties?” Mom asks.

“No, they're good with it. At least they know where all their kids are,” Kate answers.

Kate's boyfriend, Chase, is one of ten Gallagher kids, and every high school party since the dawn of time has been in their backyard.

Maggie bounces in her seat. “I'm going too.”

Dad points his fork at her and fixes her in a hard gaze. “I don't think so.”

“But Roadkill is playing there tonight. Delanie wants me to come,” she whines, turning her pleading eyes on me.

I pick at the remains of my chicken. “Not up to me, Maggs. Sorry.”

Dad regards Maggie with his serious hazel eyes. “You'll have plenty of time for that when you're older.”

She pulls a hand through her dark curls and rolls her eyes. “Dad! I'm not a freshman anymore. It's summer, so I'm a sophomore now.”

Dad's gaze becomes even more stern. “Maggie…”

Maggie jerks back from the table with a shove that nearly knocks over every water glass. At the same instant, two of the three bulbs in the overhead fixture pop loudly and go dark.

“I hate being the youngest!”

With a stomp of her foot, Maggie storms out of the kitchen as the last bulb pops, leaving us sitting in the dark.

Dad looks warily up at the fixture, then he pushes back from the table. “I'll take care of that.”

The light in the laundry room clicks on and I hear him flipping circuit breakers in the fuse box. He's back in a minute with new bulbs and climbs onto his chair to change them. “Must be a short circuit somewhere,” he says, stepping off the chair.

Mom sighs as the kitchen illuminates, then turns a concerned eye on me. “Who's driving?”

“Luc and Riley.”

I see the relief in her eyes as she dabs the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

“Mom,” I say, exasperated. “I'm
not
a bad driver.”

“I never said you were, dear.”

“Whatever,” I growl, pushing my chair back and clearing my place.

I rinse my dishes and finish just as the doorbell rings. I bolt for the door and slide through, smiling up at Luc, who stands on my front porch.

He grins at me. “Where's the fire?”

“In my kitchen.” I step back to admire him, and my heart struggles to keep a rhythm. He looks crazy hot in a sapphire blue button-down, one tail untucked and lying over a pair of faded black jeans.

“You look…” I can't finish. There's not a word. “Nice shirt.”

“It's the color of your eyes,” he says, and stops my struggling heart.

I breathe deep, tear my eyes away from him, and skip down the porch stairs. He turns and follows me.

“Did you get to your oil yet? We could do that before we go,” he says from behind me.

I turn and smile at him. “Like you're really dressed for an oil change.” But when I picture him taking off that shirt to work on my car, heat prickles my cheeks and I glance away. “Grandpa said we'd do it on Sunday.”

“I'm there,” he says, and I'm trying not to picture how good he's gonna look covered in grease under my car.

“Let's walk to Taylor's. See when they want to go.”

“There was this guy, Alexander Graham Bell. He invented this thing called the telephone. You really should get one. They're all the rage.” A smirk pulls at his lips, making me want to kiss him even more.

I force my eyes away from him before he completely sucks me in. “Ha, ha,” I say, waggling my phone in his face. “Don't tell me—you were his Muse too.”

Out of nowhere, Luc lunges and twists my outstretched arm into an armlock. Panic sends my heart racing. He leans in from where he stands behind me. “No. Just Dante,” he breathes in my ear.

“Son of a bitch,” I say under my breath, trying to pull free. Every tug wrenches my shoulder tighter into the lock, sending a bolt of sharp pain up my arm and into my spine. “Cut the shit, Luc. Let me go,” I say, knowing there's not a chance in hell he will.

“Uncle?” he asks with a self-satisfied grin.

I stop struggling and turn my head over my shoulder to look at him. “Very good. Your lessons are paying off,” I say just before swinging my leg out and taking him down on the front lawn. He lands hard on his back and I pounce on top of him, pulling him into an armlock and pressing my forearm across his windpipe. “Uncle?”

“Uncle,” he croaks, eyes wide.

I loosen my arm on his throat, but maintain the armlock and grin as I look down at him beneath me. “I think I like this—you completely at my mercy.”

“Neighbors, Frannie,” he warns, but there's a smile in his voice.

I let go of his arm and sit up, straddling him. “You saying you don't like it? Liar.”

“I didn't say anything of the sort.” He rubs his shoulder and then slides his hands along the curves of my waist, sending a shiver through me. “Just surprised you want to give them a free show.”

Matt

I swear to God, I almost struck the demon with lightning when he grabbed Frannie. The judo lessons were her idea. Now that the demon's “vulnerable,” she thought he should know how to defend himself. But the “judo” always seems to degenerate into something looking more like wrestling, except with a lot of kissing and giggling.