Soul Crossed (9 page)

Slowly I move my hands over his, and I feel the electricity tingle in the small space between us, but neither of us pulls away. I close my eyes, feeling the warmth of his body pulsing so close to mine. I want the wall between us to crumble. How can this be forbidden? I say a silent prayer. I’ve never been religious, and the irony does not escape me, but I try.

Please, please let me have this
.

I open my eyes. He waits for me, still and intoxicatingly beautiful. I set my hands on his and feel the prickling sting travel over my fingers and up my arms. Far from pain, it’s like my flesh is alive with desire. If he feels it, too, he does not let on. He simply leads me to the dance floor, never taking his eyes off of me.

I’m thrilled by the sensations running through me and giddy with the knowledge that the Earth hasn’t swallowed us whole. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean my head against his chest, letting our bodies meld together with the music.

For the first time since I died, I feel content.

I catch her scent like a flower among ruins. It’s as though the whole bar is filled with lavender and roses. She’s here, in this club, dancing with a strange man. My eyes meet hers, and he makes a move. For a moment everything is bathed in red. It’s lucky she’s looked away. Lucky she’s rebuffed him or I might have snapped his neck. I can’t seem to control my impulses. My emotions have been so strong since my death.

I down another glass of whisky, letting the liquid burn the inside of my throat and distract me from these thoughts. I see her coming toward me, and I wonder if I’ve somehow brought her here. Wanted her so bad that she was glamoured, drawn right from her house to me like a magnet. Keira has me on edge. What if tonight is the calm before the storm? What if it’s my last chance before Cam stumbles over the brink, and I am left at the edge of the cliff looking down?

I glance at Keira. She’s busy with her men, as always. Well, not always. Sometimes it’s women. Sometimes it’s both. It makes me loath her because in her I see myself.

But Grace is with me now. She’s so close I can taste her. She smiles at me and says ‘hi’ like we just met up at the library. She wants to “talk.” I say to Hell with talking. I’m feeling reckless, antsy. I want to run, but where can you run that the Devil won’t see? I ask her to dance. Offer my hands. I’ll take the shock—I need to feel the pain. The realness of it. And hey, if it doesn’t happen and I actually get to be with her? Even better.

I wait, drinking her in, consuming her image. She is unbearably beautiful. The lights dance off her hair, casting a golden aura around her body. It’s like the light is coming from her.

She looks into my eyes. In hers I see specks of copper that flicker like sparks. Then her hands close the distance between us. Electricity zaps through my palms and up my arms, sending a thrill through my entire body. Now that we’ve connected, I can’t let go.

I pull her onto the dance floor, and she presses against me. I rest my chin on her head and inhale her scent. I notice Keira on the other side of the room. She’s making out with one of the men she’s chosen for the night. I wonder if she’d notice if I left.

We’re dancing a slow dance despite the heavy rock beat pumping out all around us. It doesn’t matter—it feels right. I’m touching her. I’m holding her. For the first time in a long time I feel true pleasure. I press her closer for fear of losing the moment.

After another song, she looks up at me. Is that really desire in her eyes? Or do I want to see it there so bad I make it happen? I don’t ask myself if it matters. I lean in to kiss her.

That same strange but wonderful sensation prickles between our lips. I feel her gasp, but she doesn’t pull away. I move slowly, making sure not to frighten her off, but she presses forward with reckless abandon, like she has months—years—of pent-up desire longing to be released. My body is on fire from the inside, but it isn’t like the fire in the bathroom. This is the fire of passion, and I am consumed.

It occurs to me that we ought to move to a private place. But it’s impossible to separate from her enough to communicate this, and I don’t want to lose the moment. I feel her tongue explore my mouth and tiny shockwaves pulse through me, leaving me breathless.

“Well, well. Look who the cat dragged in.” Keira’s voice drags me back to reality, and with some difficulty I disentangle from Grace. We are both breathing hard, and I can tell it was just as hard for her to stop as it was for me.

“Keira. Hi.” Grace’s face is flushed.

“Grace, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” I say, placing an arm around her protectively. I don’t know what I can do to prevent Keira from descending upon Grace like the harpy she is.

“I’m surprised to see you here. Isn’t it a school night?”

“Actually, it’s Friday,” says Grace. I tighten my grip.

“Places like this can be full of dangerous people. You’re lucky Joshy was here,” Keira says. Her voice is like silk, and I wonder what she’s planning.

“I can handle myself, thank you. I’m a big girl.”

“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Keira shrugs and moves away. Grace shoots me a quizzical look, and I act innocent.

“What can I say? My sister’s a little crazy.”

“She’s probably just trying to protect you. I did come on a little strong. I’m sorry.” I can’t believe it. She’s apologizing to
me
.

“The only thing you should be sorry about is stopping,” I say, pulling her close. I can see the hesitation in her eyes. Timing is everything. “Let’s dance,” I say. She smiles, grateful for the understanding, and I lead us back onto the floor. This time we move to the music.

I can almost forget about the end of the world. Almost.

In Josh’s arms, I’m happier than I’ve ever been—even before my death. So I am caught completely off guard when the club explodes.

We are torn apart as a thousand shards of shattered glass burst from above and rain down on us along with pieces of shredded wood and chunks of human flesh.

My ears buzz with the echo of the blast. A cloud of ash and dust consumes us, mercifully hiding—if just for a few moments—the devastation all around. All I can think of is Josh. Where is he? Is he all right? Did I somehow cause this because I kissed Josh despite the warning in the pizza place? I push aside the part of me that wonders if I’m to blame. I don’t have time for that right now. There is still hope. Hope amidst the moans and cries of the wounded. The smell of the dead.

“Josh!” I’m screaming his name though my throat burns and my eyes are on fire. “Josh!”

“I’m here!” he calls, and my heart leaps to my throat.
He’s alive
. I suppress the guilt of feeling giddy in the midst of such tragedy and despair. I push it down, file it away for another time, another place. I force the hair from my face and squint against the smoke, which even now is dissipating in the aftermath of the explosion.

I see him moving toward me now. He is a blurry shape, stumbling over fallen beams and Lord knows what else as he pushes toward me. How is it we were ripped so far apart? I look at my hands. Not a scratch on me. The woman on the floor next to me has been torn in half. Her single eye stares blankly up at me through the fog.

“Grace!” He’s found me now, kicking aside the mutilated woman like a piece of debris and gathering me in his arms. “You’re all right. You’re alive,” he whispers in my hair. I cling to him, listening to the beating of his heart.

“We have to help them,” I say, snapping back to reality. I break away and turn in place, not knowing where to begin.

“Grace,” he says. His voice is gentle, and he takes my hand. Even now, in the midst of this, I feel the electric thrill the moment when we touch. “We have to get you out of here. You need to get to a hospital—”

“No!” I say, “No, no. I’m fine. You’re fine. We need to help them. There are survivors here, can’t you hear them? It’ll take time for the paramedics and firemen to get through. We need to help.” I am firm.

I turn to my left where I hear a low whimper, barely audible, from beneath a piece of rubble. It is part of the bar, I believe, thrown from across the room. It is a miracle anyone survived at all. I kneel beside the bar, and I see Josh put his hands on the other end. I count to three, and we throw it to the side. I know it must look incredible to him that I can lift such an impossible load, but I can explain it later. Say it was the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

Underneath the rubble, a girl not much older than me lies in agony. Her leg is little more than pulp. I look away for a moment to gather myself and then lean over her, stroking her head while she moans. Josh turns away, presumably to help another victim.

“It’s all right,” I whisper to her. “You feel no pain. I can heal you.” I’m not sure how I know this, but I do. Ms. Alvarez never taught me this, but I place a hand on her injured leg and watch as the bone shifts back into a single piece. The skin knits itself together, the blood pouring back inside the veins. A fast-motion reversal and she is whole. She smiles, at peace, and I tell her to sleep and to forget.

I make my way around the scene, listening for the sound of breath. I heal many, but find still more who are beyond my help. I wonder how this could have happened. It couldn’t have been me. Josh would be dead, and I’m sure The Man Above would never hurt all these innocent people just to teach me a lesson.

Then I remember Keira. Josh’s sister is somewhere in this chaos. Can she still be alive? I have to find her.

I continue on, picking my way through the rubble, saving anyone I can. Sirens sound in the background. The human rescuers are here. They will start moving people to the hospital. I make my way full circle until I am back where I started, near the center of what was once the dance floor. I spy Josh speaking to a fireman. They are just in front of where the bouncer once stood. Josh is covered in a blanket, and he is drinking something warm. I head toward him, grateful, again, that he is alive. He sees me coming and smiles, holding out his hand for mine.

The fireman looks amazed that I was able to walk out of the smoke and debris. He mutters about miracles and whistles low. I accept another blanket and a cup of coffee, settling against Josh’s shoulder.

“John, this is incredible! I’ve already counted twenty-eight survivors without a scratch!” Another fireman shouts across a wooden beam, and our man works his way toward his friend, eager to compare notes. “It’s like they’re either torn to shreds or they’re completely unharmed.” I hear him say.

“I’m so sorry, Josh,” I say, looking up into his face.

“Why are you sorry?” he asks.

“Keira,” I say, averting my eyes.

“I’m fine, Grace.” I spin to find her standing right behind me, drinking from an intact bottle of beer. “That was a blast!” she says, and laughs at her own joke. It’s hard to keep the look of disgust from my face.

“Keira,” Josh warns. But I don’t blame him for his sister’s behavior. I can hardly blame her. She must be in shock.

“What?” she asks, throwing her arm with the beer around his waist. Then she sees something, and her face turns to stone. I swear I see her eyes gleam red, but it must be a reflection of the fires still smoldering in the corners of the ruin. She turns on me, and I cower, afraid she’ll strike. I’ve never seen anything so frightening, and I’m standing in the middle of massive destruction.

She examines me, inches from my face, and a smile curls at the corners of her mouth. The monster disappears, and she’s once again the picture of togetherness. She even looks pleased, like she just got the punch line of a joke.

“Thanks for worrying about me,” she says, and I see no hint of insincerity. “You really are an Angel.”

I want nothing more than to stay with Grace tonight. Unfortunately, I don’t see how that will be possible. Keira is acting very strange, and I don’t trust her around Grace. I also have a feeling she had a hand in the explosion.

I drag Keira away from the rubble, using glamour on every man in uniform so they leave us alone. She is practically dancing alongside me, clapping her hands together in glee.

“Would you please not act so happy?” I say from the corner of my mouth.

“What’re you afraid of? Your girlfriend finding out what you are?” She squeals with laughter.

“Are you insane? We don’t want anyone questioning us. OK? Now stay here, I need to do something.”

“Say good-bye? Good idea. I have something to do, too.” With a burst of black smoke, she’s gone. I should have known she wouldn’t listen. But I don’t trust she’ll leave me be, either, so I hurry back to Grace, trying my best to avoid the stuff that resembles human remains.

“I have to go,” I say, glancing over my shoulder.

“I understand. You have to take care of your family. I’m going to help out as much as I can. I’ll see you soon,” she says.

I bend to kiss her and can’t help but wonder if it will be our last. She smiles up at me, and I watch her move off through the cloud of soot that still hangs in the air, like a blanket trying to cover something indecent.

Keira is gone so I take the car. Somehow it’s still intact. A crowd is growing along the perimeter now, hoards of people staring and pointing with morbid curiosity. I pass the news vans on my way out—I’ve left just in time. I head toward the place Keira and I share.

I sit on the couch and run my hands back through my hair. I have hours ahead of me until dawn. Plenty of time to watch the gruesome pictures etched in my mind. Plenty of time to sit and wonder why I had to be such a screw up in real life and land myself in this situation.

Keira has other ideas. She materializes in my lap, straddling me and leaning her arms across my chest. She rests her chin there and looks up at me, excitement dancing in her eyes.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I have some information,” she teases.

“Good for you,” I say.

“You know, at first I was quite upset. When I saw my target walk away from that bomb without a scratch.” She waits for my reaction.