Soul Corrupted
Authors: Lisa Gail Green
Soul Corrupted
Of Demons
and Angels
Book 2
By Lisa Gail Green
To Joe, for teaching me what true love means.
Grace
The cold air whispers past,
turning my tears to icy droplets against my cheeks. Still, I remain motionless
before the words etched in the granite stone. I’ve stared so long that they’ve
become nothing but a meaningless jumble of lines and squiggles. I don’t want to
move for fear they will right themselves again.
Josh’s hand in mine is my one source of warmth and
strength. He squeezes, patient as the Angel he is. He knows how difficult it is
for me, visiting my own grave.
Finally, I slip my hand from his and kneel on the
ground, which still isn’t completely grown over with grass. My fingers trace
the years on the stone: 1998–2014. It’s such a short time to have lived
my life.
I squeeze my eyelids shut, releasing the built-up
moisture that blurs my vision, then notice something set at the base of the
stone. I tentatively reach to retrieve it, trembling as I hold up a small
shell.
Josh kneels next to me, folding me into his arms and pressing
his lips to the top of my head. He always knows what I need.
“It’s beautiful,” he says into my hair.
I swallow so I can force the words past the swelling
in my throat. “Noah and I found it on the beach in Vancouver when I was ten and
he was nine. We argued about who got to keep it. I just thought it was pretty,
but Noah was convinced it had magic powers.” The smile tugging at my mouth
feels unnatural and stiff, like my skin is turning to stone. “Mom said she saw
me find it first, and Noah got mad and kicked at something in the sand. He fell
and twisted his ankle. I gave him the shell and told him he had the power to
make it better. I still remember how he threw his arms around me.”
“Huh. A nice gesture from the kid.” Josh kisses my
hair again and stands, offering me a hand.
I try to ignore the sarcasm in his voice—it
isn’t like it’s unfounded. Josh has no memories of Noah, and has only seen his
actions lately. But it’s nearly impossible not to defend my brother. Maybe I
could laugh it off if my family was getting along all right. But from
everything I’ve seen on my visits, they’re falling to pieces.
Time to change the subject.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see yours?” I ask,
turning toward the rolling hills and the rest of the uniform graves. We died at
the same time in the same place, so his grave is probably here, too.
“I doubt my dad sprang for this place,” he says with a
laugh, but I can hear the edge in his voice. “Besides—being with you now,
in Heaven? That’s what I call living. That’s all I want.”
This time I smile, slipping the shell into my pocket
and entwining my fingers with his. “Then let’s go back. We should get to work,
and I’ve had enough self-torture for today.”
I concentrate and the warm bubble of light envelopes
us both. When Ms. Alvarez used to transport me this way, it was tight and
uncomfortable. Apparently, that was just Ms. Alvarez—it’s actually quite
nice when I do it myself. Not that she ever told me I could.
That wasn’t the only information she chose not share.
“Home sweet home,” Josh says, breaking away and
flopping down on a squishy leather sofa he conjured a few days back. Our dog,
Tommy Two, jumps into his lap, yipping happily.
I roll my eyes at Josh with a sly smile. I like to
tease him about his choice in furnishings, which never match the rest of the
décor. Everything I conjure is light in color with cotton or satin textures. I
guess it is a bit girly.
A remote control materializes in Josh’s hand and I
slip between him and his view of the giant-screen TV. Our knees press together
as I place my hands on my hips. “Give a guy an inch…” I tease.
He tosses the remote into the air where it disappears
and pulls me down on top of him, sending Tommy Two running and making me
squeal.
“There are things I’d rather do than watch TV,” he
says in a husky voice that sends a hum down all my nerve endings. Before I can
respond, his lips are on mine and I lose myself in the scent and feel of Josh.
Unfortunately, I recognize what he’s doing. “I love
you for trying to distract me,” I say between kisses.
He pulls back with a sigh and lets his thumbs
skim the tops of my shoulders, where my robes have slipped down to reveal bare
skin. I try to concentrate despite the tremors this sends through my body.
“Grace?”
“Hmm?” I never knew how beautiful my name sounded
until I heard Josh say it.
“I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”
The words warm me from the inside because I know he’s
not just talking about being an Angel in Heaven. “But?” I ask, knowing there’s
more beneath the surface.
“But,” he says, sapphire eyes boring into mine, “you
aren’t.”
“It’s not you,” I say, climbing into the seat next to
him and reaching for a piece of hair to twirl.
“I know. It’s your family.” Gently, he slips the hair
from my fingers and brushes it away from my face. He purses his lips like he
wants to say more, but doesn’t know how.
I pick at the fabric of my robes, concentrating on
that instead of his intense stare. “They can’t get past my death. You should’ve
seen the dark circles Mom had yesterday. Dad’s been working late every night, longer
and longer hours, and then there’s Noah.” I stop there because it hurts too
much to say out loud what Noah has become. That would make it real.
Josh squeezes me into his side. “You can’t blame
yourself.” His words are clipped, punched out one by one with care. I can tell
he’s holding back.
“He isn’t that guy, Josh. He never did that
stuff—not when I was alive. He’s hurting, I know it. And I know I can’t
help that I died, but he’s hurting because of me.”
“Your friend Emily is heartbroken, but she didn’t do
anything self-destructive.”
“She moved away. Besides, she’s not family.” The
argument comes out automatically because it’s what I’ve told myself over and
over again.
“Yeah, she moved away. Because of
Noah
.”
“That’s not fair. He’s always had a crush on her. He
just came on a little strong, so she was…uncomfortable.” I recall finding Emily
at her new apartment closer to the community college. She’d started early after
graduating early—she was always ahead in school. After listening to
several conversations between her and her mother, I gathered the whole family
had moved because Noah wouldn’t leave her alone after my death. “Stalking,”
she’d called it. I didn’t visit her again after that.
“Noah makes his own choices, just like I did.” Josh’s
fingers find a spot under my chin so he can pry my face up to look him in the
eyes.
I keep my gaze cast downward. I wasn’t thrilled with
the choices Josh made, either, but he changed, and Noah can put an end to his
bad behavior, too. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing. You didn’t, either,
especially when you had that horrible demon ‘guiding’ you.”
“Keira didn’t control my behavior before
or
after I died. I did. And just like me, Noah knows exactly what he’s doing.”
Josh’s voice is hard and he won’t let me go, so I finally meet his scrutinizing
look with a glare.
“He feels abandoned by me,” I say, shoving my way off
the stupid leather couch. “He’s self-medicating to make the hurt go away.”
Josh snorts. “Yeah. That’s why he’s started dealing,
ditching, and drinking, too. I suppose that’s also why he acted like an ass to
that kid the other day.”
I wince, feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut.
Josh had been with me on that visit. He’d seen the whole thing, just like me.
Noah and his friend had cornered some guy and his girlfriend after school. I
can still see his buddy, Hale, stepping in front of the girl, grabbing her ass,
and saying, “I can pay more than this dick.”
Instead of coming to her defense, Noah had backed him
up. The boyfriend had looked so nervous. Hale shoved him in the chest and Noah
laughed the whole time Hale wailed on him.
Then came the worst part. The girl pulled her cell out
and tried to call for help, but Noah knocked the phone out of her hand,
distracting her with more lewd comments.
He and Hale high-fived while I sobbed and screamed at
Noah. Josh held me back so I wouldn’t intervene.
We’re not allowed to interact with Noah.
Mr. Griffith made it quite clear: I’m allowed
unrestricted access to my family and friends as long as I don’t reveal myself
or intervene in their lives, under penalty of losing my visitation privileges.
Supposedly revealing my fate would “make things more difficult for them.”
I don’t get it. How can things get worse than they
already are? But when I try to protest, Mr. Griffith gets that sympathetic look
in his eye and changes the subject. Usually to potential Antichrists and how to
find them.
But how can I concentrate on saving strangers when I
can’t even help my little brother?
“Noah’s not a bad guy,” I say, my voice cracking, just
like the image of my brother in my mind.
“He’s a prick.” Josh stands and pulls me into his arms
again. This time I go limp and let him hold me, but I don’t embrace him back. I
lose the battle with my tears, which fall hot and heavy down my face.
“Look,” Josh continues, “I just don’t want you feeling
responsible for his actions.”
My hand slides inside my pocket and I rub the smooth
surface of the shell, remembering Noah’s nine-year-old, puppy-dog eyes. “I know
I can’t control his choices,” I say softly.
But I’m not sure I believe it.
Keira
“You called?” I appear before
Lucifer’s throne—a giant, black, leather recliner. It’s been only milliseconds
since he summoned me. I hated leaving the soul I’d been corrupting—I was
so close to convincing her how much fun it would be to cheat on her husband. But
if there’s one thing the past couple of centuries have taught me, it’s that you
don’t keep the Devil waiting.
“There she is.” Lucifer claps his hands together, eyes
burning with Hellfire. Something’s definitely up.
“
That’s
your secret weapon?” Irma Alvarez’s high-pitched
voice comes from behind me, disdain dripping from each syllable.
My eyes stay on Lucifer. Even if I felt like
acknowledging the bitch, it wouldn’t be smart to give attention to anyone but
him when he calls. I’ve been burned for less.
“Irma, if you please.” Lucifer’s voice is smooth, but
danger lurks beneath the surface.
I’ve done my best to stay away from this woman since
she joined us. She’s more than obnoxious. She makes me want to dig her eyes out
with my nails for sport. Whatever this is about, I hope it doesn’t involve
spending time with her.
At least she shut up.
“Keira, I have a job for you. I need to use you as a distraction.”
A smile curls my lips out of habit. I hope I get to
distract someone hot. It’s been awhile since my assignments have interested me
that way, and last time it didn’t end so well. I had counted on having Josh as
a companion for centuries, but he went and found his way to Heaven. Now he’s on
Lucifer’s piss list. Mine, too. If there’s a way out of here,
I’m
the
one who deserves to find it.
“You got it. Who will I be distracting?”
“That’s my girl, always willing to please.” He appears
beside me and cups my face in his hand. I stiffen. It’s never a good sign when
Lucifer lays a hand on you.
“You’re going to need a new look for this,” he says.
All platitudes are gone and his cold voice is left—the one that freezes
my insides.
“What kind of look?” I ask.
“The opposite of yours.”
I meet his eyes, which sparkle malevolently in the dim
light of his throne room. “Not that you aren’t lovely in this form, of course.”
He taps my forehead with one finger and a chill spreads through me, trailing
tiny pinpricks of pain along my limbs. He glances to the side and a full-length
mirror appears.
The woman in the reflection is tall and lithe, not my
usual petite—yet curvy—figure. Her skin is fairy-tale white, which
makes me itch, and her hair is strawberry blond, shiny and long. But the eyes
are still my own cat-shaped bits of coal.
“You’ll be able to switch back and forth at will,”
Lucifer says from behind my shoulder. “But this is more his type.”
His?
I wonder who my target is,
but I don’t ask again. When Lucifer wants me to know, I will.
Irma Alvarez snorts and I finally glance at her, as does
Lucifer. She’s a squat woman with beady eyes and a perpetually heaving chest. I
guess she runs out of breath easily, which makes sense—all she does is
eat and yap. Why does the Boss let her stay? It’s more punishment for me than
her.
She opens her mouth again. “Do you really think she
has it in her? I would be much better suited to the task.”
Is she serious? Though I can’t blame her for wanting a
makeover.
“You have your job, Irma,” Lucifer says, straightening
his double-breasted, navy suit. “It’s going to be difficult enough to force the
potential Antichrist toward the dark this early in the game. You focus on that.
Keira here will take care of our friends.”
I don’t like the way he says
friends
. “I don’t
recall us having any friends.”
Lucifer grins, displaying perfect white teeth. “Smart
girl, Keira. Your job is to distract our newest Super Angels above.”
Irma cuts him off. “And the best way to distract them
is to break up Gracelyn’s illicit coupling with that boy.”
“You mean
Josh
?” I bite my lip hard the second
the name passes my tongue. It’s bad enough she mentioned Grace’s name. “Josh”
was banished from our vocabulary the second he beat Lucifer at his own game.
Not that I want to spend another second thinking about either of them. The
whole debacle was unfair.
I brace myself for retribution, but Lucifer only
chuckles.
“Yes. Now, Irma, get going. You have work to do, my
dear.” He waves a hand and she disappears from view, along with her annoying
voice.
“If all goes as planned—and it usually does,” he
says, sliding an arm over my shoulder and steering me back to the mirror where
I can see us both, “then we may not only have the edge with the new potential Antichrist,
but we’ll be accepting the happy couple back into the fold by year’s end. You
don’t wrong the Devil and get away with it, Keira. I never forget a
transgression.”
I swallow. Lucifer had never been so close to securing
the Antichrist when Josh and Grace managed to stop him. How does Lucifer plan
on bringing them down when they’re now both Angels? Maybe in this new form I
can get Josh to sleep with me and fall from Heaven…but even the thought makes
me feel insecure. I’ve seen firsthand how much Josh loves Grace.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Lucifer says. I don’t
doubt it’s true. “So I’m going to provide a little help. It’s imperative that
we keep them distracted long enough to succeed.”
I bite my lip, but Lucifer knows what I was about to
say.
“I expect you to trust me, not Irma. The woman is
insane. She believes that at the End of Days, we’ll both be welcomed back into
Heaven because The Man Himself will realize his error in ejecting us in the
first place. She forgets that I am an Original, created by The Man Himself, and
was never a lowly human soul. She knows nothing about the important part of the
prophecy. How would she? Only the Angel Michael and I know it.”
“What is it?” I ask, unable to contain the words. I’ve
always understood that humans didn’t have the whole story. When I was alive, I
sat through many a church service where we were told that Jesus would save us
after the Antichrist served up doom and destruction to all the non-believers—
if
we behaved. I hated sitting in those wooden pews in that muggy, old church. I
didn’t buy a word of it, and I was shocked when I died and found out the whole
Antichrist thing was real. But I have a theory that the “Savior” part isn’t; I
think fear caused humans to make that part up. Lucifer’s never confirmed
or denied it before, just eluded to the idea that the End Times mean he has an
easy win against Heaven.
The blue flame in Lucifer’s eyes makes me cringe
inside, but I put on my most innocent look and wait, still and patient,
counting on his love of gloating.
Finally a grin tips the corners of his mouth upward,
making the flames dance dangerously, and he speaks. “It was a promise from The
Man Himself. ‘Lucifer, my son, you will be given a chance to rule over the
souls below as you see fit, and it will be decided by the One whether your way
should continue on forevermore.’”
I roll the words over in my mind. The One—the
Antichrist. Does that mean that I was right and there never was a Savior? The
Antichrist actually seals the deal for him; no wonder Lucifer’s so happy. Why
wouldn’t the Antichrist be on his side?
“So you can see that Irma is simply another misguided
soul, and an annoying one at that. I would torch her now if she hadn’t had such
a lovely idea.”
“What’s that?”
“We give a little shove to a soul who could be the
next potential Antichrist, and we delay the Angels from getting in the middle
before the soul has been tipped to our side. It is finally my time, Keira. I’m
done waiting around. That’s where you come in.”
“How do you know Josh and Grace are the Angels they’ll
send?” I ask. Lucifer’s eyes burn scarlet when I speak the names, and his grip
on my arm tightens.
“I know the Archangel in charge of them. He has seen
them succeed and will believe they can do it again. It’s not the first time his
faith has been misplaced. There may be rules set down by The Man Himself, but
the way we carry them out is up to us, and my counterpart is so predictable. Now
go start working your magic.”