Soul Corrupted (4 page)

Grace

Of all the wonders in Heaven,
the gates are my favorite. First of all, the greeters exude calm, and I could
use a serious dose right now. Second, this is the one place you can find
anonymity in a busy crowd.

Plus, standing on clouds? How cool is that?

Tommy Two’s had a great time, greeting a boy who arrived
frightened and crying. Now the two of them sit in the swirling mist,
alternating between playing and cuddling.

“I believe we’ve found TT’s calling,” Shona says in
her crisp British accent. She’s leaning against one of the tall spires of the gates.
She pushes her glasses up on her nose and winks.

“Wish I felt that certain about my place,” I say. “I
mean, I want to help people, but I can’t stop worrying about the people that
mean something to me already. Is that selfish?”

Shona rolls her eyes and tosses her long, dark hair
over one shoulder. “Did you really just ask me if caring about your family is
selfish?”

I smile. Shona always manages to lighten my mood. “Why
do you still wear glasses?” I blurt out. “Can’t you get rid of them up here?”

She grins. “I guess I could, but like most souls, I
like being me. I don’t want to lose who I was before. Plus, they make me look
smarter, don’t you think?” She pushes them up and straightens, sticking her
nose in the air.

I laugh again. “Of course.”

“Grace, shouldn’t you be getting back soon? Usually
you can’t wait to run back to Josh after barely an hour. It’s been more like
four.” Shona pushes off the gates and steps closer.

“It’s a little weird right now,” I say. I told her
about our almost-fight, but I haven’t admitted what I saw on the screen. I feel
like if I say it, I’ll sound petty. I should trust him.

“Everyone has arguments—even in Heaven,” she
says, squeezing my arm. She’s taller than I am, so I have to look up to meet
her gaze. On the surface, she isn’t that much older than me. She was a sophomore
at Cambridge when she died from anaphylactic shock while on spring break in
Naples. She won’t tell me what year, though, which makes me suspect that she’s
much older than she looks.

“I saw him with another girl.” I blurt out. I quickly
tell her about the image in the window. Once the words are out I sigh and scoop
up Tommy Two, who’s left the now-much-happier boy with his greeter.

Shona taps her lips with a finger. “I cannot imagine
that Josh would cheat on you. And with a human? That’s silly. There’s no future
in it and Michael would flip if he thought Josh was using a human for his own
needs.”

“Michael?”

“Griffith.” Shona’s lips stretch into a grin. “He
doesn’t use his first name often. It’s too recognizable for those who have some
religious background.”

So Mr. Griffith is
the
Michael—Michael,
the biblical Angel of Death, if I remember correctly. I guess that makes sense,
but it feels a little weird. I file that information away for later. “Josh must
be getting a head start with the possible souls. He probably wants to take on
as much as he can himself because he knows what a tough time I’m having.”

Shona squeezes my hand. “It’s the only thing that
makes sense from what I know of you two. But if it bothers you, you should ask
him. Don’t let things build up inside of you, Grace. That’s a surefire recipe
for disaster. Trust me. I’ve been there.”

I’m about to ask what happened, but as though she
senses what’s coming, Shona ends our conversation by motioning over a short,
balding greeter with a kind face.

“Now, back to business.”

*
* *

When Josh walks through the
door, I can see how stressed he is, every muscle in his body tensed. Now I feel
terrible for even entertaining the thought that he might be cheating on me. He’s
clearly been working with a potential soul. I can’t let him do our job alone
because I’m preoccupied. It isn’t right. I’m supposed to be the one guiding
him.

“So, you found the soul already?” I ask.

He blinks, staring at me like he’s shocked to find me
here. Poor guy. I motion him over to the leather sofa and pull him back into
the seat, kneading at the knots in his shoulders.

“What soul?” he asks.

I pause before continuing his massage. “I saw you with
that cute girl,” I whisper in his ear, “in the mirror thingy. You shouldn’t
have approached her without me, you know.” I’m trying to be nonchalant, but Shona’s
right, I need to talk to him openly.

“You aren’t jealous, are you?” he asks, humor in his
voice.

He’s turned away from me, but I can’t hold back my
smile when I picture the impish grin on his face and the twinkle in his eyes. I
hug his neck and rest my chin on his soft, black curls, relaxing. Time to tease
him back. “Well that would be silly. Why would you look elsewhere when you have
me?”

He reaches up and grasps my hand with his. “I’m glad
you didn’t jump to conclusions, because I love
you
, Grace Howard.”

I let him pull me over the back of the sofa and onto
the couch so that my head is in his lap and he’s looking down at me. Best view
ever. And I love the way he smooths my hair, letting my curls spring back into
place with each long stroke.

“We need to regroup and come up with a plan
together
,”
I say.

The stroking stops. “No, I’ve got this one. There are
other souls to check out. You should pick one of those.”

I sit up and laugh a little, out of nerves because it
isn’t very funny. Why keep me away from her if he’s not trying to hide
something? “Why did you engage her if you weren’t already sure she’s the One?
We’re supposed to do recon and figure it out by observing, not interacting. Mr.
Griffith specifically said—”

“He told me it was okay,” Josh interrupts, rubbing at his
forehead.

“When? I wasn’t gone for more than two minutes and you
were already with her, drinking coffees.” I recall with a sudden pang our own
first date in Michigan and how we’d walked through the fall leaves, talking and
sharing coffees. Get it together, Grace, I tell myself. He can’t be cheating.

“Before all that. When Mr. G and I played pool while
you were with your family. I just forgot to tell you, that’s all. No big deal.”

No big deal
? That’s kind of
important information to forget to tell me.

I take a deep breath. “Look, Josh, I’m sorry I haven’t
been as mentally present as I should lately. But I’m here now and I want to
work with you. So let’s go ahead and take a look at some souls. Together.” I
climb on my knees and throw my arms around his neck, trying to ignore the
feeling that he’s still keeping things from me. Even if it’s totally innocent,
which I’m sure it is, he could screw up and we’d both be in trouble.

“Okay,” he says, touching his nose to mine. “But let’s
do it in the morning. I’m wiped.”

“I’ll conjure pizza…” I nuzzle his nose.

“Tell you what,” he says, drawing me onto his lap.
“Let’s look at one soul and then take a break to unwind.” He kisses me deeply.

I’m distracted by the bliss of his lips on mine, but I
manage to break away and say, “Two souls and it’s a deal.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” He presses me close and
kisses me again. This time I let myself fall under his spell as he runs his
hands up my back and tangles them in my hair. I take a sharp breath as he works
his mouth down into the crook of my neck and teases the skin with his teeth.
His other hand wanders downward and slides to the front of my robes, but I stop
it.

“A break.
After
the two souls,” I say through
heavy breaths. But I hope I don’t find myself in this position again tonight.
It’s getting harder and harder to turn him down without letting things out that
I don’t want hanging between us.

One frustrated groan later and we’re staring at the
swirling colors beneath the surface of the screen again, Josh’s arm tight around
me.

I draw a deep breath before starting. I can’t let
myself get distracted this time. But before I can speak, Josh does.

“Show us another soul in danger of becoming the Antichrist.”
Josh’s eyes turn icy blue in the reflection as the screen’s colors zigzag
wildly. Another moment and they settle on the image of a boy.

I gasp. “He can’t be more than eight.”

The child drags a broken stick behind him through the
hard dirt of an empty lot. The background is filled with dilapidated structures
with barred windows and mesh over doors. Remnants of dirty snow and half-dissolved
leaves trim the dirt lot, punctuated by litter and an occasional weed that was
too stubborn to die off during the winter.

It’s such a sad sight. “Where is he?” I ask.

“I don’t know. But I don’t want to live there.” Josh
tightens his hold around me, probably sensing I’d like to jump through the
screen and scoop the poor child into my arms.

A sharp laugh startles me and I notice—as does the
boy—three guys leaning on a weathered fence. They’re all wearing
low-riding jeans and worn sneakers, each one holding a cigarette. The boy
approaches them and their conversation grows louder, though I can’t tell what
they’re saying other than cussing every other word.

“Jon, you gonna come home for dinner?” the kid asks
one of the boys.

Jon glances over his shoulder in the middle of a laugh
and takes a last drag off the butt before flicking the remnants at the kid.

The kid jerks backward, but snarls up at Jon in
response, who grabs the kid’s head in the crook of his arm, shoves off his
baseball cap, and rubs his close-shaved head with his knuckles. It might be
sweet if it weren’t for the kid’s grunts of protest and pain as the older boy’s
knuckles force deep, pale lines into the dark skin of his scalp.

“Lemme go, jackass!”

“This is horrible,” I say, snuggling closer to Josh.

“I feel bad for Jon,” Josh says, softly.

“What? How could you?” I peel my eyes away from the
screen where the big boys are now back in a tight circle and the kid is sitting
on the ground near his stick, rubbing his sore head, forgotten.

“If this kid is a potential Antichrist, then that boy
better watch it. He might be target number one.” Josh points and I look back to
the picture.

The kid’s scooped up the stick and edged closer to the
group of boys again. Aiming the jagged tip of the stick at Jon’s leg, he
thrusts forward. Jon lets out a shriek, grasping his shin, where blood spurts
out of a hole in his jeans. The other two burst into more hysterical laughter.

“You little shit! I’m gonna skin your ass for that!”
He grabs for the boy, who sidesteps and kicks him hard in the back of the knee
before taking off through the nearest yard.

“Turn it off,” I say, sickened by the whole thing. The
screen obliges.

“You sure you still want to do two?” Josh asks into my
hair.

I nod, because I need a minute to gather myself
together. “Show us another possible Antichrist.” I’m hoping for the girl I saw with
Josh earlier.

The screen swirls with color, settling on a girl of
about twelve alone at the corner table of what appears to be a library. She’s
pretty, with long, brown hair and a willowy frame. Her eyes, though… They’re
two different colors. One is a nice shade of golden-brown while the other is an
eerie, translucent gray. The color contrast makes the gray eye seem larger on
her face. It’s more than a color difference, though. It’s as though the gray
eye isn’t in sync with the rest of her.

I shudder.

“Well, she’s certainly got the creep factor going for
her,” Josh says.

I elbow him lightly. “That’s mean. She can’t help
being different.”

Josh clears his throat, “That’s more than just some
deformity. It’s looking right at us.”

One glance at the screen shows me that while the girl
intently reads her book, her strange eye has wandered up and trained itself on
us.

“She can’t see us,” I say.

“Then why are you whispering?” Josh asks.

“It just feels that way, but maybe that eye is blind
or something. Maybe she has no muscle control, and from this angle…” My voice
trails off.

On screen, a book falls off a nearby shelf, thudding
against the carpet. The girl’s eye steadily shifts to the left, toward the
sound, then back again to us moments later.

“Pizza time?” Josh asks, his voice higher than normal.

“I think that’s enough work for one night,” I agree,
and will the screen back off.

Keira

Wow. I’ll spend the day
watching Noah Howard anytime, especially when it involves no shirt. Washboard
abs shine with sweat beneath the lights in the gym as he dribbles the ball to
the other side of the court. Unfortunately, I’m not in love with the sound of
all the shoes
thump
ing and
squeak
ing, or the smell that comes
from a group of adolescent boys playing basketball. So, being the amazing
problem solver that I am, I slip in a pair of ear buds and pump up the volume
before climbing several rows higher on the bleachers.

It’s time to catch his eye.

I lift one leg up on the bench next to me, giving him
a nice, unladylike view of what I’m offering. The moment he glances my way, I
throw him my best come-hither look and he nearly trips with the ball.

Still got it, Keira.

It’s easy to picture what I’d like to do with him
later; not so easy to figure out how to bring up what he’s been doing hanging
out with Lucifer. Guess I’ll blow up that bridge when I come to it, or whatever.

The second the game is over, I drop off the bottom
step of the bleachers right in front of Noah. His homeboys close in, ready to
make a move, but I step into his personal space and hook my arm through his,
feeling his bicep.

“Nice game,” I coo.

“Thanks.” He looks older than sixteen at first glance
because of his Adonis body and light, golden stubble, but close up I still see
the baby face hiding underneath.

“I could use some pointers.” I roll the ball out of
his hand and into my free one.

The others are making the obnoxious noises that stupid
teenage boys make when confronted with hints of sexuality. I ignore them and
train my sights on Pretty Boy.

Imagine Josh asking me to get close to his precious
Grace’s baby brother. Well, that’s not technically what he asked, but it’s the
easiest way to get the information he wants. It’s like I’ve been given permission
to play with him. Not that I need permission…

“Like right now?” Noah asks.

“Sure, but not here,” I say, tugging him toward the
exit. “I want private lessons.”

“Maybe I should shower first,” he says, glancing
toward the locker room.

“Why? You’re just going to get sweaty again by the
time I’m done with you.” I press closer into his side and watch him swallow.

Two of his friends bump him on the other side. “Don’t
forget we have an appointment at six o’clock,” one says. I think he’s trying to
be intimidating, but he’s shorter and skinnier than Pretty Boy.

“I’ll be sure to finish with him by then,” I say
sweetly.

The other one licks his lips suggestively, showing off
a pierced tongue. I stare right in his eyes and compel him to scratch his ass
every time he makes a pass at a girl from now on. That should take him down a
notch.

Latching on to Noah’s arm, I guide him outside and
away from all the annoyances. He pulls back after a minute and narrows his
honey-colored eyes. “Where are we going?”

I giggle. “Do you care? Isn’t it enough that I’m
taking you there?” I adjust my stance to show off some extra cleavage while I
flutter my lashes.

“It’s not that I’m not interested,” he says, putting
his hands over my arms. “It’s just not every day a strange, beautiful girl lures
me outside with the promise of sex.”

“Who promised anything?” I ask, slightly offended.
“That’s going to depend on your behavior. You can start by following me.”

He purses his deliciously full lips and nods while
crossing his arms. In a matter of minutes I’ve navigated Noah into my Corvette
and started up the engine. Time to take this boy somewhere private and have
some fun getting information out of him.

“So,” he says, “let’s start again. I’m Noah.”

“I know,” I say.

“Oh. Uh, do I know you?”

“Not yet,” I say, sliding a hand onto his knee.

“There you are, Keira!” Lucifer appears in the back
and leans forward until his head is between us.

Shit.

Noah’s head snaps back and forth to each of us, his
eyes bulging in a rather unattractive way. “You know each other? But—”

“Keira works for me,” Lucifer says, laying a hand on
my shoulder. His palm feels like ice—ice so cold it burns. My pulse speeds
up in response.

“Oh.” Noah, leans back into the seat, defeated. He
probably figures I wasn’t really into him—not
quite
true.

“Glad you’re getting to know each other. You might be
working together in the near future.” Lucifer squeezes tighter.

“Working together?” I ask, trying to keep my voice
light.

“That’s if Noah here has decided he wants to do
business.” Lucifer leans back against the leather seat, releasing me for the
moment. I resist the urge to rub my frostbitten skin.

I keep my mouth shut and drive.

“When I said I’d sell my soul to the Devil if my
parents would forget about my sister, I was venting. I had no idea you’d
actually come.” Noah says, rolling his head away from us, toward the window,
where I can see his reflection. He looks miserable.

So that’s what this is about. He doesn’t want his
parents to suffer anymore over Gracie’s death. Ugh. If only they knew how
disgustingly happy she is in Heaven.

“What if I can offer something truly worth your while?”
Lucifer’s voice is as slick as oil.

“I already told you, no deal on my soul.”

“Forget the ‘soul’ business, Noah. It’s just a human
cliché.”

“If you don’t want my soul, what do you want?” Noah asks,
sounding nervous. I slip one hand toward his on the console, recalling how I
felt at almost his exact age, having died and found myself in front of Lucifer
“offering” me a job.

“I want you to work for me, like Keira here.
After
you die, of course. I won’t end your life up here. You can live it up! I always
tell the truth,” Lucifer says with one hand over his heart and one in the air
like a Boy Scout.

“What could you possibly offer me that’s worth my
eternal servitude?” Noah asks.

Lucifer grins and crosses his legs, spreading his arms
across the entirety of the seat backs. “I can offer you access to your sister.”

Noah sits up slowly. “You mean I can visit her in
Heaven? With my parents?”

Lucifer actually winces. “No. But when you’re dead and
working with me, you will be able to see her while she’s working on Earth.”

Noah sighs. “I’d still have to wait ‘til I die. What’s
the point in that? I can probably see her then anyway.”

“Not if you’re in Hell. And that’s where you’re headed
as of now.” Lucifer leans forward again, so suddenly that Noah jumps in his
seat. He’s headed to Hell? I take a closer look at the kid beside me. Maybe
there’s more to him than I assumed.

“But—”

“You think you can do what you’ve been doing and end
up in Heaven? You’ve already done one trade with me, small though it was. You
got the body you’ve always wanted, but did you think there’d be no consequence
for selling drugs to a kid you knew was a recovering addict?” Lucifer pauses
for dramatic effect. “Do you see the choice I’m offering you
now
?” he asks.
“Do you want to keep on this path and end up in Hell, tortured for eternity? Or
would you rather come straight to work for me with powers beyond your
imagining?”

I know this shtick. Noah’s fate isn’t cemented yet—he’s
not necessarily going to Hell. But Lucifer posed it as a question, so it isn’t
a lie. Lying is my department.

“You’ve already worked for the Devil,” I say with a
laugh. “You’d have to do some pretty heavy lifting to make it into the pearly
gates now.” Maybe picking up the cue will help ease Lucifer’s anger at my being
here.

The shadow that grows in Noah’s eyes is one that’s
familiar to me—pure anger. No wonder Lucifer has his eyes on him.

“Even if that’s true—” Noah starts.

“Lucifer can’t lie,” I remind him.

“Even so,” he says, straightening, like he’s trying to
regain control. “Why wouldn’t I just wait and see where I end up before I make
any eternity-changing decisions?”

“Oh, I’m not saying the offer’s open forever.” Lucifer
drives in the stake. “I may not have use for you by then. Are you a gambling
man, Noah?”

Noah beats his head back into the seat. “It’s not fair.
Grace goes to Heaven. Mom and Dad wallow in her perfect memory forever. And
whatever I do, I go straight to Hell. As usual, I get shit on.”

“Life sucks, doesn’t it?” Lucifer asks.

“That’s for sure,” I mutter, pulling into a spot on a
random side street.

“But,” Lucifer continues, “you can guarantee you’ll at
least have some fun if you take my offer. I can give you more than just access
to Grace. While on Earth, I can give you sex, money, power, a free pass from
the law—you name it and it’s yours.
If
you agree.”

Noah locks eyes on me. He’s searching my face like he
expects me to have the answers. What does he think Satan’s minion is going to
do—disagree? Anger flares inside me and I hide the flash of red in my
eyes.

“It’s your decision,” I say. “It’s your afterlife.”

“Do you think it’s worth it?” he asks softly, focusing
only on me and ignoring Lucifer.

I
can’t ignore the Boss, though—not
when the spot on my shoulder still burns where he touched me. I nod quickly.

“So what’s it gonna be, Noah?” Lucifer asks, lighting
a cigarette. He already knows the answer. He always does.

“Fine,” Noah says, watching Lucifer in the rearview
mirror. “I deserve something more than a shitty life and afterlife. Give it to
me. Everything you said.”

Lucifer snaps his fingers and I press my eyes closed.
I should be happy that I’ll have a new playmate in a half century or so, but
for some reason it turns my stomach to be here for this. I want to get out of
here. But I don’t dare leave. I’ve already pissed off Lucifer enough for one day.

“So, where do I sign?” Noah asks.

“You already did.”