Soul Corrupted (12 page)

Grace

Like most children, Kobe warms
up when I give him genuine attention. The poor guy’s so good at disappearing
because he’s practically invisible in his huge family between all his brothers
and sisters. Considering all the tragedy they’ve had to deal with and the
financial situation his mother carries on her shoulders, it’s no wonder he was
leaning toward evil. Evil is easy—that’s one thing Ms. Alvarez taught me
that I believe to be true.

Kobe isn’t perfect, nor would I expect him to be. I’m
impressed with the lengths he’ll go just to impress me, though. I find him
charming and smart. I believe his dark side is born of neglect and being
witness to such violence so young. He’s accepted it as a norm he must take part
in.

We’ve stopped at a restaurant off 8 Mile Road so Kobe
will have both a place to work and a chance to eat something warm. I take a sip
of steaming coffee from the chipped, ceramic mug and the waitress comes over to
top off my cup.

“Let me see your work,” I coax, having caught him doodling
on the papers filled with math problems I gave him. I downloaded an assessment
off the internet so I can see where he’s at.

He hands the papers over and sips at the soda I bought
him with his hamburger for lunch. The kid’s a bottomless pit. He stuffs the
three cheap crayons that came with the kids’ menu into his jacket pocket while
I look over his work. The jacket was from me as well. We went to the nearest
thrift store and picked out a few things he needed.

“You did this all by yourself?” I ask, shocked. Unless
the waitress is secretly prone to helping nine-year-olds cheat on tests, he
can’t have had help.

He nods, staring at me, a silent challenge to call him
out and lose his trust.

“I believe you,” I say, leaning closer over the
plastic, orange booth’s table. “It’s just that this assessment goes from simple
math to pretty complex math, Kobe. It’s incredible how far you got. Where did
you learn this?”

Kobe shrugs and sips at his soda some more before
answering. “I help my sister with her homework sometimes.”

“But you had to have learned it somewhere, right?”

He sinks down in his seat. “I listen. A lot. I listen
to everyone I can and I read whatever I get my hands on.”

I smile at him and enjoy the way his eyes sparkle when
he returns it.

“Grace,” he starts, “why are you spending so much time
with me? If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that nothing good is free. And
you’re too good to believe.”

I lay a hand on his and squeeze. “I am quite real and I
like you, Kobe. What other reason do I need?”

“Shit, I shouldn’t look a gift-horse in the mouth and
all that, but you keep twisting your hair and getting that lost-in-thought
look. That’s what my sister does when she’s avoiding something. So what are you
avoiding?”

I freeze, caught off guard. I feel the smile melt from
my face.

“It’s none of my business, right?” he asks,
straightening up again.

“No. You’re right, Kobe. I am avoiding something. A
lot of somethings, actually. But mostly I’m avoiding the thing that’s bothering
me most because I’m forbidden from fixing it.” My words sound bitter, which
surprises me. I’m opening up to a kid when I should be having this conversation
with Josh. He was supposed to love me. He was supposed to be there for me—forever.
But now he’s with Hope. My throat tightens when I imagine his strong arms
pulling her close like he used to do with me.

“How forbidden is it?” he asks. “Sometimes rules got
to be broken. Sometimes…if it’s worth it.”

I swipe at the escaped tears and pat his hand again.
“Have I mentioned how smart you are?”

“A couple times. But I like it.”

We share a nice moment; his face is open and happy
like a boy’s should be, not closed and dark. I’m proud that I’ve helped him
already and eager to keep going. Kobe can be a great man someday with all his
talents.

I’m about to order another round of fries for our
study session when the door to the diner swings open, the bells jangling in
chaos. Two men enter. Both are in gang colors, which Kobe taught me to watch
out for. These are rivals of his brother’s gang. One has a gun gripped casually
in his left hand. The dull metal shows frequent use and I don’t like the way he
taps it carelessly against his thigh.

They’re loud and obnoxious. Every other word is fouler
than the one before. The one without the gun catches sight of us and I stay
still, hand firmly on Kobe’s to let him know not to freak out.

“Hey, it’s Jon’s little brother!” The one without the
gun saunters over, eyes fixed on me all the way. He shoves Kobe’s head in an
almost-playful way. I notice the waitress is nowhere to be seen.

“What you doin’ with this fine lady, Kobe?” he asks,
sitting in the booth next to Kobe and forcing him over to the side. “Shoot, you
on the wrong side of the tracks, girl.”

I smile politely as his friend helps himself to a beer
from behind the counter. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be, thank you. I’m
pretty sure you two should be in school, though.”

He laughs. It’s so loud and crazy I fight the urge to
cover my ears. “You’re funny! But you know,” he gets serious suddenly, leaning
forward over the table, and I smell cigarettes and alcohol, “this is our
territory and I’m happy to offer you protection, especially seeing as you’re
connected to my man, Jon.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you,” I say, still sizing
up the situation.

“I’m nice like that when it comes to pretty ladies.
But I expect you to be nice in return. You know what I’m sayin’?”

I have a feeling I do. “Right now I’m busy with Kobe,”
I say.

He slams both hands on the table as his friend joins
us at the end, preventing our escape. “I say who’s busy doing what around here.
You got that, ho?”

“Don’t you call her a ho,” Kobe says. His voice is
clear and much stronger than I would have expected. I shake my head a little to
tell him not to interfere.

“She either a ho or a bitch cuz that’s all there is.”
He rubs Kobe’s head and shoves it a little more than playfully toward the wall.
“I sure as Hell hope she ain’t no perv, hanging out with a kid like you.”

“Look,” I say, standing in the tight space between the
guy with the gun and the table. “We don’t want any trouble. I’m just trying to
tutor Kobe. So go enjoy your beer.”

The one with the gun presses closer to me, pinning me
with his body against the table. He points the gun, tilted sideways, at my
chest, but I continue to stare him the eyes. I have nothing to fear.

“I’ll tell you what, bitch. You take off your shirt
and we’ll let you have ten minutes with Kobe. You get ten minutes for every
item of clothing you remove. But when you out, you out.”

I laugh. “Strip poker without the poker? No way. I’m
going to ask you one more time to leave.”

“Then what you gonna do?” The other guy stands, too,
pressing into my side. I’m overwhelmed with their stench and I cough.

Before I can answer, Kobe is over the table. He’s got the
steak knife from his burger plate and he brandishes it in the unarmed boy’s
face.

“Back off, Ern. You need to learn some manners. Now
y’all leave her alone.”

“Whoa!” Ern holds up his palms and backs away. “This
is a shame, you know that?” he says. Kobe’s small body presses into my side as
he holds out the knife toward the gunman.

“Put it away, Kobe,” I say. “Listen to me.”

“I’m not gonna let them hurt you,” he says.

The gunman backs up and lowers the gun an inch. I let
out a sigh of relief. “It is a shame.” He shakes his head as I put a hand on
Kobe’s, guiding his fist down to the table so the knife is no longer a threat.

“It’s a shame,” he continues, “because Jon already
lost a brother. Then again, he got, what, fourteen more?” He laughs.

“We’ll go,” I say, hating these boys. “We’ll get out
of your way.”

“Hell no,” Ern says, joining his friend.

I look him in the eyes, forcing my will on him.
“You’ll let us go and never bother Kobe or his family again.”

“You really need to learn how this works,” Kobe says,
shaking his head in my peripheral vision. He lunges at the gunman before I can
grab him and the shot shatters the air, my ears ringing from the noise. Kobe
falls to the ground at my feet, crimson liquid oozing from beneath him.

I’ve never felt so angry. I strike out at the gunman,
ripping the weapon from his hand, and lift him easily into the air by his neck,
ready to crush his windpipe with one squeeze. His glamoured friend flees,
sending the bells on the door into a frenzy. The man in my grip wheezes,
gasping for breath, eyes filled with terror. And then I freeze, suddenly
scared.

I’m scared of myself.

I back up, dropping him so that he lands on his knees,
sucking in air. I catch his eyes and glamour him to call 9-1-1 and turn himself
in to the police. To turn in all the names of the gang members, including his
buddy.

He leaves, and I drop to the ground and gather what’s
left of Kobe in my arms. I will him to heal, but inside I know that it’s too
late.

“No!” I scream. “He was good. Why?” I sob into his
head, rocking him in my lap while the gunman makes the call to turn himself in.

I don’t care about that. I just care about Kobe and
now he’s dead. He had so much promise, so much to live for. And what about his
mother? His brothers and sisters? I should’ve stopped those boys the minute
they came in. I shouldn’t have waited and tried to convince them to do what was
right.

When I hear the sound of sirens I set Kobe’s body
gently on the floor and transport myself to where I need to be. Kobe was right:
sometimes rules have to be broken. I’m not letting anyone else die while I do
what’s “right,” damn the consequences. I’ll deal with Mr. Griffith later. I’ll
convince him that it was worth it.

I’m coming, Noah
.

Keira

“So what kind of deal did you
make with Lucifer?” Noah asks, pulling me into his arms.

“I told you. I didn’t—at least, not the kind you
did. I never knew him during my life. I died and then he offered me the job.” I
cuddle in closer, inhaling his scent, all minty and fresh from the shower. It
helps me forget Josh and how much our conversation bothered me.

“I wonder how he finds the right people,” Noah says,
pressing his nose into my hair. I feel…safe.
Come on, Keira. How many men
did it take to learn your lesson?
Damn. Lucifer really did a number on me
with that punishment.

“Mmmm,” I mumble. “It’s his business to know all the
souls and which ones are capable.”

“Well, I can’t blame him for seeing something special
in you, Keira. Do you have another form?” he asks, laying me back on the bed
and towering over me. Fine with me—he can take up my whole world. “You
know, like a monster or something?”

I giggle. “Not unless Lucifer wants me to. He gave me
the power to change into another girl recently. But she’s no monster.”

“Let’s see,” he challenges.

I sigh and force the change, hoping he won’t like this
body better than mine.

He shakes his head. “Beautiful, but not my type. I
like the real you.”

I shift back and pull him down for a kiss. I’m just
getting into it when I hear a familiar voice.

“Noah!”

Noah’s off of me in a hot second and I snap us both into
some clothes, guessing he won’t want to be naked in front of his sister.

Grace rounds the corner, clothes covered in blood,
staring at her brother, mouth agape. She looks like a wounded puppy that just
watched another puppy get wounded. Ugh.

“Noah. You have to make her leave,” she says. “You
don’t know what she is.”

“Actually, Gracie, he knows exactly what I am.” I roll
onto my side and prop up my head with my hand.

She looks between us, not knowing what to do.

Noah breaks the silence. “Grace…what? How are you here?
You’re dead!” His eyes are so big I’m afraid they may pop out of his skull.

Grace shakes her head, tears bursting free as she
flings herself into his arms. “Oh, Noah! I wanted so bad to tell you before
now. I’m here. I’m okay. I mean, I’m dead, but I’m in Heaven now. I’m an Angel.”

I want to shove her away from him. Does she even know
how much she hurt him? Probably not. That would involve noticing him for who he
is, and not who she wanted him to be.

To my immense pleasure, Noah pushes her back to arm’s
length to examine her. She waits, smiling, tears streaming, expecting another
embrace. This ought to be good.

“You’re an Angel?” he asks. Then he laughs and repeats
it again. And again. “Heaven’s not enough for our Grace. An Angel…of course you
are!”

She laughs, misunderstanding.

“Do Mom and Dad know?” Noah asks.

She shakes her head. “I haven’t revealed myself to them
yet. I had to come to you first. Noah, I’ve been so worried about you. I’ve
seen some of the things you’ve done and…and I know it isn’t your fault.” She
glares at me. “You’ve been under a horrible influence, but I’m here now and
I’ll save you.”

“Save me?” he asks with a snort. “From Keira? I want
Keira here. If I didn’t, she wouldn’t be here. Hell, if it weren’t for you, she
wouldn’t be here, either.”

“I…I don’t understand.” Grace wilts like she’s been
punched in the gut.

“You know how hard it was living in your shadow?” Noah
asks, fists formed at his sides. “You have no idea what it’s like being
invisible.”

“I do.”

“You self-righteous bitch,” he says and even I widen
my eyes.
Nice
. “No you don’t. You think you know everything. You think
you’re always right. You’re perfect and you have to make everyone else perfect,
too, because it’s what you want. Well, I don’t want to be perfect. I never did,
but you made me think something was wrong with me for hating school and getting
Cs. But you know what? I like who I am. Who I’m becoming.” He glances at me
with a smirk and my stomach flips.

“Noah, you don’t know what you’re saying.” Grace
reaches for him, but he steps back like she’s going to contaminate him.

“Yeah, I do. I used to want to prove to Mom and Dad that
I could be just as good as you. But now I know that it’s a waste of time. Mom
and Dad don’t matter. What matters is who
I
am and who I can become. And
I don’t need your help. You’re an Angel now, right? So go enjoy it. Go back to
your cloud or whatever and sing some hymns. Play the fucking harp. I don’t
care, just leave me alone.”

I’m surprised Grace hasn’t shriveled into a raisin
with all the tears she’s shedding. But this is exactly what she deserves after
the way she treated him—a good eye opening. In fact, I’d like to give her
a good shove and watch whatever’s left shatter to pieces.

Grace shakes her head back and forth like she refuses
to believe what she’s hearing. Like she can change what Noah’s saying. Noah’s feelings
are clear from the way his fists tremble at his sides. Neither of them says
another word, so I figure it’s my turn.

I slither over to Noah and wrap my arms around his
shoulders, peering over at Grace. “I think he’s asking you to leave.”

“You shut up!” she screams at me. “Get away from him.
Stop whatever it is you’re doing to manipulate him. If you want me, fine, but
leave my family alone.”

Noah stiffens, but I hang onto him. I want Grace to
see how close we are. “I’m not manipulating anyone. Noah asked for me and I
happen to enjoy his company. This has nothing to do with you. It’s not always
about you.”

“Please, Noah. Just talk to me. We can go somewhere
private.”

“No thanks,” he says, putting an arm around me. “I’m
busy.”

“Noah. I’m breaking a rule for you. Please,” she begs,
still reaching toward empty space.

“I’m impressed you broke the rules,” he says, “but
that’s your problem for once. Maybe it’ll do you some good.”

“I didn’t leave you on purpose,” Grace says. “I know
you’re mad. I get it, but I’m here now. It’s not too late. It can’t be.”

Noah draws a deep, staggering breath and I run a hand
over his arm for support. “Grace, you need to listen to me. Okay?” He looks at
her and waits until she nods, hope lighting her eyes. “I’m not mad that you
left. I’m sorry you died. But now, I finally have room to be me.”

“I don’t believe this,” Grace cries. Her voice is
scratchy and her face is full of snot and ruddy blotches. For once she doesn’t
look like Little Miss Perfect.

“Shouldn’t you be sobbing on your boyfriend’s
shoulder?” I ask, driving in the knife.

Grace gasps like she felt the blade go in. “This has
nothing to do with Josh.”

“Really? Because usually the two of you are
inseparable. I assumed it would be the same in Heaven. Or is it just a
desperate case that you crave?”

“Noah,” she says, trying to ignore me, “come with me. We’ll
find a way to make things right.”

“Don’t bother, Grace. In fact, don’t waste your time
coming around here again. We’re busy.” Noah’s grip is almost painful.

“I will never give up on you.”

“You’re going to have to. Now get the fuck out of here
before I make you leave.” Noah’s like a gear, wound so tight it’s about to
break.

With one last pained look, Grace vanishes in a ball of
light. Noah turns to me, slowly. But it’s not the loving face I expect. His
eyes are hard and I nearly gasp because they remind me of Lucifer’s. “You knew
my sister before we met.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“I had some business with her a few months back.” I
admit.

“So you’ve been playing me?” he asks, stepping into my
personal space.

“First of all, Noah, playing is fun and we’ve been
doing a lot of it. Second, I’m here because Lucifer asked me to be, but I
thought I already explained that I’m sticking around because I want to. And
third, I could crush your windpipe with one tap of my finger, so you might want
to think before you act.”

Noah swallows, eyes darting around like he doesn’t
recognize his own room. “It’s always about her. Even when she’s dead, she
controls my life. Just tell me one thing, Keira. And tell me the truth. I
want
the truth. You said you had business with her. Did Lucifer make a deal with me
because of my
sister
?”

I can’t bring myself to tell him anything but the
truth.

“I don’t know Lucifer’s plan,” I say softly, “but I
suspect the answer to that question is yes. Because he wants revenge for
something she did and he wants her distracted from other Angel things. He knows
she’s obsessed with you and your parents and fixing everything, so…”

Noah nods, moving his mouth like he’s having a private
conversation in his head. He runs a hand back through his hair, leaving it
mussed and completing his madman look. It’s hard to see him broken like this.
For once I’m not enjoying someone else’s misery.

“Like I said, I’m still here because I want to be.” I
sit on the edge of his bed and pat the spot next to me, but he stays put.

“I need some air,” he mutters, and grabs a jacket from
his floor.

“I hate her, too,” I say, stopping him before he
leaves. His back straightens at the door, but he doesn’t turn around.

“So you screwed me to get back at her?” he asks. His
knuckles turn white on the doorknob.

“No. I screwed you because I wanted to. And because
you wanted me to. But I can’t pretend I’m not happy about her getting a little
comeuppance. Stupid Angels always get the happily ever after. Well, not this
time.”

Instead of agreeing and turning back to me, Noah
crashes the door open so hard it’s partially torn from its hinges as it bounces
against the wall like rubber. Noah runs and I’m left alone in his room,
wondering what I said wrong and why I care so much what he thinks.