"Honey, he signed a DNR years ago," she said, watching me with more of that weird, detached sympathy behind her eyes. She probably would have made a good reaper.
I glanced back at her from the hall. "DNR?"
"Do not resuscitate. He signed a form asking not to be brought back when his heart gave out. He was ready to go."
Her words sent fresh chills down my spine. I had no doubt that if Henry White had known what his afterlife would consist of, he'd never have signed that paper. Or his demon contract.
Tod and Libby trailed us into the hall, though no one else could see or hear them. "Are you following me?" she asked Tod.
"Um, yeah. Kind of," Tod said, and I turned to find him grinning up at Libby. "I'm, um, seriously interested in doing this. Collecting Demon's Breath instead of souls. When I found out you were going to be here, I couldn't resist coming to ask you a few more questions."
"This job is not for children." Libby's eyes flashed fiercely. Her grim smile looked more like a snarl. "You have five minutes."
Tod exhaled in relief, and the reapers followed us into the frigid parking lot, while Nash and I pretended to be alone, a skill I was getting pretty good at. Behind the nursing home, Libby sat on the hood of my car and lit a cigarette, watching Tod expectantly, and I wondered if passersby would be able to see the smoke she exhaled.
"Is that…" Tod's words puffed from his mouth on a white cloud. "Does that help you hold the Demon's breath?"
"This?" She held the cigarette up, flicking ash onto the asphalt. Tod nodded, and she shook her head slowly. "It just tastes good."
Tod flushed beneath the light overhead. As uncomfortable as I was hanging out with a reaper who'd been old when the New World was discovered, it was almost worth it to see Tod too embarrassed for words.
Almost.
"Three minutes," Libby prodded, without even a glance at her watch. "When I have finished with this—" she held up the cigarette again "—I will be finished with you."
"Right." Tod glanced at first me, then Nash, but we only stared back at him. This was his show; the reaper had yet to acknowledge either of us existed. "Um…does all Demon's Breath taste the same, or does it vary from hellion to hellion? You know, like 31 flavors?"
Libby's eyes narrowed as she watched him, and I was sure she'd ask a question of her own, and our little road trip would end in disaster. But after a moment's hesitation—just long enough to blow smoke into his face—she answered. "It all tastes the same. Foul. It would probably kill you, so do not consider trying it."
"I won't." But Tod didn't look anywhere near as put off by the idea as I thought he should be. "So…you can't tell what hellion this particular breath…came from?"
"No." She inhaled from her cigarette and crossed her opposite arm over her chest. "Nor do I care."
Tod exhaled in frustration and glanced at us again, but I could only shrug. I had no idea where to go from there. "When they give you your list, does it say what hellion owns the target's soul?"
"No." Libby dropped her half-smoked cigarette and ground it beneath her boot, and I was sure she'd simply disappear without another word. Instead, she turned to face us. All three of us. And I literally squirmed beneath her gaze. "Why are you following me, asking about hellions? Demon's Breath is nothing for children to play with."
I wanted to insist that we weren't children, but I kept my mouth shut because arguing with Libby probably wasn't the best way to get information out of her. And because compared to her, even poor old Mr. Henry was a child.
"I'm just curious…." Tod began. But his mouth snapped shut at one angry glance from the older reaper, who could clearly smell his lie. "We…We're trying to help a friend."
"Who?" Libby pushed off of my car and crossed both arms this time, glaring down at us.
Nash and Tod exchanged glances but remained silent, so I answered. Silence obviously wasn't getting us anywhere. But the truth might.
"We're trying to help Addison Page get her soul back."
"That cannot be done," Libby said, without missing a beat. Any surprise she may have felt was instantly swallowed by her perpetual scowl. "And you will die trying. But she can reclaim it herself. Her contract has an out-clause. They all do."
"We know." I sighed and let my shoulders slump, hoping she couldn't tell from my posture that I was about to tell a half truth—I was afraid she wouldn't help us if she knew what we were really planning. "But she doesn't know the hellion's name. She can't enact the out-clause if she can't find him, and she only knows he's a hellion of avarice."
"I do not have direct contact with hellions." Libby scowled. "Stupid humans." She closed her eyes briefly before meeting mine again. "She does not have a copy of her contract?"
"No, and we couldn't come up with a copy, either."
"Those bastards never play fair," Libby muttered. "But there is nothing you can do about it. Go home." She turned then, as if to walk away, but I knew it wasn't over. If she were truly done with us, she would simply have disappeared.
"Please." I started after her and she whirled around, long leather coat flaring out behind her. Libby's surprised, angry gaze found me immediately, and I made myself speak, in spite of the nerves tightening my throat. "Anything you could tell us might help."
"I do not know who has her soul, and I will not ask for you. That is beyond what is safe, even for me."
"Fine. I understand. But…" I closed my eyes, thinking quickly. "What else can you tell us about your job? Where do you take the Demon's Breath after you collect it?"
One corner of her mouth twitched, like she was holding back a smile, and I was suddenly sure she was proud of me. As if I were on the right track, and she secretly wanted me to follow it.
"There are disposal centers in the Nether. The closest is near Dallas. In the large stadium."
"Texas Stadium? The old one, right?" I asked, still thinking, and she nodded. "Would anyone there help us?"
Libby's mouth quirked again. "No. Definitely not."
But then, she hadn't planned to help us, either. "Thank you." I exhaled slowly, sure we were headed in the right direction. "Thank you so much."
"Child," she called, as I turned toward my car, key already in hand. When I glanced up at her, something unfamiliar passed over her face. Concern? Or maybe amusement? Figures that I'd amuse a reaper. "Demon's Breath is very powerful, and it attracts both the desperate and the dangerous. Watch out for fiends."
I nodded, trying not to reveal fear in my posture. But as I started my engine, Nash buckling himself into the seat next to me, I couldn't stop my hands from shaking.
I had no idea what a fiend was, but something told me I would soon find out.
10
"I CAN'T BELIEVE you did that!" Nash said, and I glanced away from the dark highway long enough to see him grinning from ear to ear in the passenger seat, his irises swirling in the deep shadows. He looked…excited.
"Did what?" A car passed us going the opposite direction, and when it was gone, I flicked my brights back on.
"He can't believe you asked a several-thousand-year-old reaper for help getting a human's soul back," Tod answered from the backseat. He had both arms crossed over his usual dark T-shirt, but I knew by the tilt of his fuzzy chin and the shine in his eyes in the rearview mirror that he was pleased. Maybe even a little impressed.
I shrugged and stifled a giddy smile as I turned back to the road. It was a bit of a rush. "I figured it couldn't hurt to ask…"
"But it could have." Nash aimed the heater vents toward the center of the car and closed the broken one, which wouldn't twist. "You keep forgetting that most reapers don't like bean sidhes. And vice versa."
"Maybe I keep forgetting that because the first bean sidhe and reaper I met are brothers. Neither of whom seems to hate me."
Still half grinning, Nash twisted to look at Tod. "Maybe we should have introduced her to Levi first."
"There's still time," Tod said, and that time he actually smiled. A little.
/>
Levi was Tod's boss, the oldest and most experienced reaper in Texas. Except for Libby, who worked all over the southern U.S., whenever and wherever she was needed. But evidently Levi was enough of a threat to keep several hundred other reapers in line.
"So, what's the plan?" I turned down the heat now that my goose bumps were gone. "I have to be home by ten-thirty, so we can't look for this disposal station tonight. So…tomorrow after school?"
Nash nodded and flipped another vent closed, but Tod's frown deepened in the rearview mirror. "Are you seriously saying your curfew is more important than Addison's soul?"
"You're in no position to complain." Nash twisted in his seat to face us both, gripping the back of my seat. "Kaylee and I don't owe either you or Addy a damn thing, and if you don't lay off, we'll both just walk."
Only they both knew I'd never do that. I'd said I was in, and I meant it. But…
"If I get home late, I get grounded, and I won't be much help to Addy while I'm stuck in my room." I eyed Tod in the mirror and flicked off my brights as another car approached in the opposite lane. "She's not supposed to die until Thursday, so we still have all day tomorrow, at least, right?"
Instead of answering, Tod scowled, and his curls shone brightly in the glare from the passing car's headlights. "Can't you sneak out after your dad goes to bed?"
I nodded and flicked my brights back on. "Probably. But if I get caught, we're right back where we started, only getting caught sneaking out is much worse than being late for curfew in the first place. I could be late because of traffic, car trouble, or the built-in delay of hanging out with Emma. But sneaking out implies that I'm up to something my dad won't like." Which was true, but not in the way my father would be thinking. "And then he'll start checking up on me all the time. He's new at this, and way overzealous."
Nash and Tod had it easy. They were both legal—Nash had turned eighteen in late August—and thus mostly free from curfews and other unreasonable parental restrictions. Especially Tod, who was not only of age, but technically dead.
It's hard to ground someone who doesn't even officially exist. And can walk through walls.
"Whatever." He ran one hand through his mop of curls. "Can't you skip school tomorrow?"
"Love to," I said, and Tod's eyes brightened. Until I continued. "But I can't. I skipped last period today for this little road trip, and if I miss again, the school will call my dad."
"High school's a pain in the ass," Tod snapped, and I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of such an understatement. "I'll be glad when you turn eighteen."
That time I did laugh. "Me, too."
"That makes three of us." The heat in Nash's eyes said his agreement had nothing to do with helping either Tod or Addison, and everything to do with uninterrupted privacy. At least where my father was concerned.
Something told me getting rid of Tod would be a little more difficult.
My phone rang as I took a long, gradual curve in the highway, and Nash helped me hold the wheel while I dug my cell from my pocket. I didn't recognize the number, which meant my father probably hadn't figured anything out yet.
I flipped my phone open and held it to my ear with my right hand, while I steered with my left. "Hello?"
"Kaylee?" It was Addison, and she sounded stuffy, like she had a cold. Or like she'd been crying.
"Addy, what's wrong?" I asked, and Tod's image in the rearview mirror lurched when he leaned forward. His arm brushed the back of my shoulder as he hovered near my phone to listen in.
"Tod doesn't have a phone, so he gave me your number," Addison began, sniffling into my ear. "I hope that's okay." She sniffed again, and I wanted to tell her to blow her nose.
"It's fine. What's wrong?" I asked again, as Tod's breath warmed the back of my neck, stirring my ponytail. How weird that he was alive enough to breathe hot air, but not to carry a cell phone. Maybe it was hard to get an account in a dead man's name….
"It's Regan." Addison sobbed haltingly while I twisted the wheel to the left to keep us on the road when it curved. Suddenly it felt like I was trying to do a dozen things at once. And failing.
"What's wrong with Regan?" Tod asked over my shoulder, and she must have heard him.
"John Dekker offered her the contract, and she said yes!" Her voice rose in disbelief on the last word, and it echoed like a siren going off in my head. For a moment I wondered how certain we were of Addison's humanity. "He's on his way here now. He always brings the contract personally—he doesn't trust anyone else with it."
My heart beat so hard my chest felt bruised. John Dekker was coming to Texas, and he was bringing a soul-sucking demon with him.
The road swam before me as my horror and confusion crested in a startling wave of disorientation. Nash grabbed the wheel again, though I hadn't let go of it, and I took a deep breath, forcing my thoughts apart. Each to its own distinct corner of my mind. That was the only way I could concentrate on one at a time.
I tightened my grip on the wheel, eased up on the gas, and focused on the road, nodding absently to tell Nash I was fine. Until a semi blasted past on our right, nearly blowing us off the highway.
Maybe I should pull over….
"Wait, your sister sold her soul?" I said, hitting the speakerphone button as I glanced over my shoulder to make sure there was nothing in the other lane. But the entire highway was blocked by Tod's face, crinkled with fear—an odd expression to find on a reaper.
"Move!" I mouthed, handing the phone to Nash, and Tod immediately dropped back into the rear passenger seat. I swerved too quickly into the right lane—blessedly empty—then onto the shoulder of the road.
"She hasn't actually signed the contract yet," Addison continued, oblivious to my driving woes. "But she will as soon as Dekker gets here. You guys have to help me. Please. She won't listen to me, but she can't argue with you. She knows Tod's dead. You all have to come tell her what you told me. What will happen to her when she dies."
"Why won't she listen to you?" I shoved the gearshift into Park, and Nash stabbed a button on the dash to turn on the hazard lights.
"She thinks I'm trying to hold her back." Addy sobbed again and springs creaked as she sat on something. It sounded like a bed, rather than a chair. "She said she was tired of 'singing in my shadow.'"
Nash spoke loudly, to make sure she could hear. "Addy, where's your mom?"
Addison sniffled again, sounding much younger than eighteen. I guess true terror does that. "She went out, and she's not answering her phone." She didn't elaborate, but I recognized the embarrassed, disgusted tone in her voice. Her mom was strung out again, and gone when she was needed most.
"Does she know what your sister's about to do?" Nash continued.
Addison sobbed miserably. "Yeah, but she doesn't understand. I tried to tell her Regan was selling her soul, but she thought I was speaking in metaphors." She sniffled again. "I doubt she'd care, anyway. She'd just see dollar signs."
I already hated Mrs. Page, though I'd never met her.
Tod leaned forward with his arms folded across the back of Nash's seat this time. "Where's Regan now?"
"We're both at home," Addy said. "My mom's house in Hurst. Do you remember how to get here?"
Tod nodded, then realized she couldn't hear him. "Yeah." But then he faltered, obviously at a loss for how we could help.
But I had an idea—a stroke of genius, really—that sent adrenaline racing through my veins fast enough to leave me light-headed. "After she signs the contract, Dekker has to take her to the Netherworld like they did with you, right?" My small car rocked violently as another huge truck blasted past us on the highway, without bothering to move into the far lane.
Addison cleared her throat, and more springs groaned. "Yeah, but we can't let that happen. We have to stop her from signing."
"I know." I held up one finger to tell Nash and Tod to wait—that I really was going somewhere with this. "But my point is that in order to take her to the Netherworld, Dekker
has to bring along that reaper, right? The lady who took you to the hellion?"
"Yeah, I guess…"
"And, Tod…" I twisted in the driver's seat to face him, though the steering wheel bruised my side. "Using your soul-wrangling abilities for anything other than reaping from the approved list is illegal for a reaper, right? Including taking humans to the Netherworld to facilitate the removal of their souls?" He nodded, and I continued. "Would you call that a firing offense?"
"Definitely." His eyes lit up, as my point became clear.
"And would your boss be interested in the chance to fire such a reaper?"
His brows arched. "It would make his decade."
"That's what I thought." I faced forward again to spare my ribs, just as the first drops of rain went splat on the windshield. "And without his pet reaper, Dekker has no way to get Regan to the Netherworld. Right?" My excitement grew as Tod and Nash both nodded eagerly. We had a chance to save Regan from making a huge mistake and bring justice to the rogue reaper involved. Plus, if I could peek into the Netherworld, I could at least get a good look at the hellion we needed to identify. "So, what do you think? Will it work?"
Nash grinned from ear to ear and made a gruff happy noise deep in his throat. "I think it might."
"So, wait, you have a plan?" Addy squeaked over the line.
"Yeah, I think we do." I twisted my key in the ignition, and the car rumbled to life, more like an ailing house cat than a purring tiger, but so long as my poor car moved, I wasn't going to complain.
"What should I do?"
I rebuckled my seat belt and flicked the switch to start my windshield wipers. "Stall them until we get there." The passenger side wiper stuttered across the glass once, then died without so much as a whimper. Fortunately, I didn't need to see through that side. "Say whatever you have to say. But don't let her sign that contract, and do not let the reaper take Regan to the Netherworld."
"Okay, I'll try." But she sounded less than confident.
"Try hard, Addy." I punched the button to make the hazard lights stop blinking and glanced over my left shoulder before pulling into traffic again. "You only have one sister, right? And she only has one soul."