Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) (50 page)

Grace knew the instant his anger spiked, the force of which pushed against her. His anger didn’t frighten her. She knew it wasn’t toward her. “He’s not a hunter. He’s not here for Pandora.”

Grace did not
like the sound of that. “Then what’s he here for?”

Quentin answered her matter-of-factly. “He’s a Soul Keeper. He’s here for your soul.”

Oh, is that all? whipped through her mind.

A violent shudder wracked Grace’s body as she sat a while later with Quentin in the family room. She shivered uncontrollably, and sitting by the fire wrapped in a blanket did little, if anything, to help. She was never going to get used to any of this. The childhood prayer danced teasingly across her mind: “If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take
.”
It wouldn’t stop.

The prayer made sense, considering.

Neurotically, Grace chewed on her thumbnail, and talked around the sore nub. “He literally wants my soul?”

“
Don’t worry, I won’t let him have it.”

Grace chortled. “Like I was going to just hand it over.” Quentin said something, but she couldn’t hear it through her head noise.

Her mind kept flashing back to how sweet and thoughtful Darius had been, which had her feeling more stupid than before. And to think, at first she worried he might want only one thing. Oh, he wanted something alright, just not
that
. The memories fueled the embers from her earlier anger.

She continued rocking back and forth, eying the empty cans of Red Bull lined up like energizing soldiers on the coffee table. Her gaze moved to each one, counting them off; one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four. After Quentin explained how Darius could get to her through her dreams, she started pounding them down, remembering the surreal quality of the dream-time she’d spent with Darius. They made her more nervous, but she refused to let herself get tired. She tossed back the last swallow of another can, and added it to the line of its brothers.

“
I wish you’d stop. I can feel if anything happens, and I’ll wake you up,” Quentin said from the seat next to her.

“
No.” Her head bobbed from side to side like a bobblehead. “I’m not ready to face him, and I don’t know what I might say in my dream.”

The music from her cell made her jump, then freeze as still as a corpse. It was him. A picture of Darius holding blue wildflowers smiled up at her. She wanted to smash his face in. Quentin rescued the iPhone and pressed the Ignore button, placing it on its face when he put it back on the table. When it buzzed minutes later, she grabbed it before he could, and held both of her hands in the air. “It’s okay. The phone is safe.”

Quentin didn’t seem to believe her. He hovered over her, just in case.

Darius:
How r u feeling? I wish I was there w/u.

Okay, so the phone wasn’t so safe.

Cursing her lack of Hulk abilities, she gave up trying to crush the phone in her hands, and stared at the words on the screen. Her heart stuttered a beat. Grace wanted to rip that part of her heart right out of her chest. It was no doubt the weakest link, the part guilty of letting him in.

Players had nothing on this guy; Darius took manipulation to a whole new level. All at once, she wanted to cry again. Holy Hannah, she needed to get a grip on her emotions. Her ups and downs were beginning to give herself whiplash; she could only imagine how they must be affecting Quentin. Sucking it up, she texted back.

Grace:
Ive been better. Worse than earlier.

At least no one could accuse her of being a liar. Every word of her text was totally true.

Darius:
Ah, im sorry angel face :(

If he kept it up, her phone would need to enter the witness protection program. She fought hard against the urge of tossing it at the closest wall.

Grace:
Thnx. Eating then bed.

She still didn’t lie. Eventually, she’d be eating and going to bed. She didn’t say when, and she never mentioned sleeping.

Darius:
K. Plz call or txt if u need me.

Yeah, right!

Grace:
K.

The rest of the evening went by without incident. Quentin quietly lingered wherever Grace was. Amanda kept herself busy with chores and homework in other areas of the house for the rest of the night. She knew whatever was wrong was none of her business, and Grace’s earlier storming through the manor apparently convinced her to keep her distance. Grace was glad she didn’t pry, because she didn’t want to be added to the long list of liars that was accumulating. When Quentin brought her some of the takeout he’d ordered, Grace barely had the appetite for it, and played with the food more than she ate it.

When Laney got home, Grace turned off her bedroom light, hoping her mother would think she was sleeping. She was in no mood for talking.

Despite the arsenal of Red Bull, she couldn’t stay awake. Grace lost the war against sleep sometime after two a.m.

My soul to take…

Just like the ever-loyal servant, Grace’s alarm clock started screaming at her at six thirty a.m. She groaned loudly, and smacked it off the nightstand, but it kept wailing. Bent at the waist, she hung off the mattress, pulling the clock out from under her bed by the cord, and almost ripping the darn thing right out of the wall. With a deep breath, she got herself under control, then flicked the Off button.

No matter all the Red Bull she forced down, she’d fallen asleep anyway. It pissed her off. However, she was pretty sure she didn’t dream. If she had, she couldn’t remember it. That was good
.
She hoped.

A soft buzzing coming from the vicinity of her dresser pulled her from the warmth of her blankets. Gosh, her body was heavy. It was tough carrying herself across the floor. It felt like she’d gained twenty pounds overnight. Halfway to the dresser, the noise stopped. She wondered what it was, but wasn’t curious enough to keep hunting for it. Lethargically, she spun around to head back to bed, then paused—the buzzing was there again.

Grace stepped up to her dresser, because she could tell whatever was buzzing was somewhere inside. As she quickly pulled drawers out, the buzz got louder when she got to her sock drawer. Rifling through thousands of socks, she found her vibrating cell phone. What the…?
Quentin had clearly worried about the safety of her phone.

It was Darius. A hammer would work. Grace shook her head, pushed the Ignore button, and checked her texts. All of them were from him … again.

Darius:
Couldn’t sleep, thinkin of u.

Right
.
The time of the text was 1:21 a.m. He wasn’t sleeping, because she wasn’t. How sweet. Not.

Darius:
R u feeling better?

Darius:
I can bring u soup n ice cream.

A lump of emotion caught in her throat. She hated him. She wanted to hate him. For sure, she hated her traitorous heart. In a matter of hours, Quentin went from not caring to falling. And Darius from this super sweet, sigh-inducing boyfriend, to a heart-stomping soul crusher. Grace obviously needed to reevaluate her ability to make sound choices about the men in her life.

Grace:
Lil better. Mite stay home again tho.

Darius:
U want me to bring chicken soup n ice cream?

Grace swallowed hard to push the lump down, and sighed.

Grace:
No. U shud stay away.

Far away.

Darius:
K.

Like a railroad spike had just been hammered into her heart, she clutched at her shirt. She wanted to cry.

Grace handed Amanda the keys to the Shelby. “I might try to go to school a little later. Quentin can take me if I do.”

Amanda stared at her, seemingly straight through her, before giving her a tight hug. “I can get your homework if you need, just text me.” When Amanda pulled away, her eyes were sad. Grace didn’t move from her spot as Amanda walked away. Right as she was about to leave the family room, she turned back to Grace. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Grace felt horrible, and looked at the floor next to Amanda, because she really couldn’t look her in the eye. She hated having to keep secrets. “Uh-huh.”

Laney was already at work, so after Amanda left, Grace and Quentin were alone. She contemplated asking more questions, but remembering the possible consequence of the last one she’d asked, kept her mouth shut.