Soul Thief (5 page)

After what seemed like an eternity, but probably only lasted fifteen minutes, Gran and I resurfaced from the basement. We climbed the steep stairs to her kitchen. The aroma of freshly-cooked spaghetti greeted us, but the bump in my stomach was so large and twisted that the thought of food made me want to throw up.

“Are you all right, kiddo?” Dad asked after one look on my face. “You're very pale.”

I shrugged. “Heavy lifting probably isn't a good idea when you've just had a concussion.”

Mom started scolding Gran for letting me do hard work while being ill, but I couldn't even take any pleasure from that. Usually it was hilarious when Mom scolded Gran because Gran did all sorts of childish stuff in response, like rolling her eyes, walking away or simply going ‘blah blah blah'. She did so now as well, grimacing and mouthing ‘blah blah' behind my Mom's back.

Cassie laughed. She pointed at Gran and looked at me, as if wondering why I didn't laugh as well.

I sat down at the kitchen table and ruffled through my sister's hair. Half-sister actually, I guess.

My entire life was a lie and I couldn't tell anyone.

TWO DAYS LATER,
I
had to go back to school. There had been no sign of Leander or any other Angel of Death, and while Gran had tried to get in touch, I'd ignored her calls. We'd always been close but now she felt like a stranger, a woman I barely knew, who'd kept secrets from me.

I kept my distance from Mom as well. Even though Gran insisted she probably had no idea what was going on and was tricked into sleeping with someone besides my Dad, I couldn't cope with it. Not on top of everything else.

Dad dropped me off at school and I waited in front of the building for a sign of my friends. The single-story school building was painted a dull brown. The grass lawn leading to the school could use trimming and a single tall willow tree cast shadows all over the courtyard. Fairhaven wasn't the most upbeat town in the world, but the school tried its best to look particularly depressing, as if it had stopped making an effort years ago.

Katie waved at me. She grinned as she walked toward me, her brown, waist-length hair bouncing up and down with every step she took. She wore a red dress that reached to her knees, a simple belt slightly above her waist, and black heels. Her skin was tanned as if it was the middle of summer instead of a dull and dreary autumn morning.

“Riley!” She pulled me into a back-crushing hug. Then she let go and held me at arm's length, inspecting me from head to toe. “I'm so glad you're okay. But you should've put some makeup on that.” She pointed to my chin, which was covered in a nasty blue-brown bruise.

I shivered as I remembered my head jerking forward and smashing into the steering wheel. “I wear my battle scars with pride.”

She raised her eyebrows at my attempt to joke.

“You've got some explaining to do though,” I said. “Why didn't you visit me in the hospital?”

“Are you kidding me?” Katie snorted, as if she couldn't believe that's what I thought. “Mich called your parents like five times to ask if visitors were allowed, but they insisted we shouldn't bother you since you had a concussion and all that. I called you like a bazillion times.” She pulled her cell phone from her designer handbag and showed me the dozens of calls she'd made to my phone.

“My phone broke in the accident,” I explained. “Were you very worried?”

Katie shrugged, but she didn't meet my eyes. “We were. But then your parents called to let us know you'd woken up and that you were all right. I kept telling Mich your skull is thick enough to survive anything, but she didn't think that was funny.”

“Gossiping about me again?”

I turned around to face Michelle. “You've got to stop sneaking up on people. I know you're the queen of spies, but you're lucky it's my head and not my heart that got hurt in the accident or I'd have a heart attack right about now.”

Michelle shrugged. Her dark blonde, curly hair looked disheveled as usual. Her large blue eyes peered into mine, as if she wanted to find out whether I was okay or not by reading my eyes. After a few seconds she broke into a smile, revealing teeth that were a little too big for her mouth. “Glad to see you're back to the land of the living.”

“Jeez, Michelle, just because Riley got to spend her weekend wearing those filthy hospital gowns doesn't mean that you had to go all casual too.” She scrunched up her nose. “Why are there four holes in your jeans?”

Michelle looked down at her washed-out jeans and sneakers that looked like she just ran cross country. “It's a fashion statement.”

The clothes banter was a continuous fake argument between Katie and Mich. Katie was a self-proclaimed fashion icon, while Michelle's clothing style always lingered somewhere between casual and nerdy.

Michelle offered me a chocolate bar. “A feel-better snack.”

“Well, I wouldn't dare say no to chocolate.” I opened up the wrapper and took a bite. “Katie was just telling me how worried both of you were. Very touching.”

“Laugh about it all you like,” Katie said while she looked in disgust at my chocolate bar. “You should've seen the accident on TV, and then you'd be worried out of your mind as well. And then the explosion…”

“Maybe it's better if we don't bother Riley with the gruesome details right now, “Michelle interrupted her, giving her a pointed look before she turned to me. “I've read up on concussions, and if you feel a headache coming on, or nausea, let me know.”

“It was only a minor concussion. Nothing to worry about.”

I wanted to tell them about the Council, about Angels of Death, even about my Dad not being my Dad. But it all seemed so unreal while we were standing there in front of the solid, dull school building with teenagers chatting away as they walked in and out. Birds chirped in the distance and cars honked down the street, reducing everything I'd been through since the accident to nothing more than a bad dream.

A black sports car rolled into the school's parking lot. It looked far more expensive than anything kids my age could buy.

Goosebumps ran down my arms, and my heart raced in my chest. I couldn't pull my gaze away from the sports car, as if I was watching a horror movie, and I knew something spooky was about to happen. The car stopped and the driver opened up the door. Leander stepped out. Even if I hadn't recognized him, the golden glow surrounding him would've given him away. He turned around to face me and nodded.

Katie whistled. “Smoking hot.”

“Are you talking about the car or the boy?” Michelle asked.

“The car. The boy looks cute too.”

“You say that about all the guys.” Michelle rolled her eyes. “Either way, he doesn't go to school here or else we would've seen him before.”

“Exchange student?”

“He looks too old to be a student. Probably an interim teacher.”

While they talked, my mind worked in overdrive. Leander had mentioned that we'd have to work several hours a day to learn to control my powers. But if he signed up here as an interim teacher then how would that help? Maybe he enrolled as a tutor. That would make sense. I didn't really need tutoring for any courses, but he could probably find his way around that. If he had enough connections to get here, then he could deal with the details.

“Earth to Riley.” Katie waved a hand in front of me. “I know that guy was smoking hot, but that's no excuse to keep gazing off into the distance like you're already imagining a fairytale ending.”

“You only saw him for two seconds. How can you even know he's ‘smoking hot'?” I imitated Katie's voice.

She shrugged. “I have a hotness-radar. I can smell it from miles away. Now come on, I want to find out why he's here. I call dibs, by the way.”

“You always call dibs.” I rolled my eyes.

“Well, someone has to take the lead. Besides, you two little girls probably still think boys are yucky. Ever since you broke up with that guy from your orchestra, what's his name,” she said to Mich, “you've been wary of hanging out with any boys. And you, Riles, well, I've never even seen you talk to a boy.”

“I talk to Craig and he's a boy,” I said.

“He's also gay, so technically he doesn't fall into the potential-dates category.”

“Give her a break, will you?” Michelle intervened on my behalf. “She just came back from the hospital.”

“Exactly.” Katie sighed. “You'd think that after what happened, she'd want to live a little. Do stupid stuff. Not always be Miss Perfect.”

Michelle sighed and lifted her backpack on her shoulder. “Let's just get to class. I'm not in the mood to argue.”

“I've just never met a guy who seems interesting enough to date,” I said. “Just because you find everyone intriguing doesn't mean I do.”

Katie slapped my comment away with a wave of her hand. “You don't give them a chance. You're way too picky.”

“Now that Katie has successfully analyzed both our personalities, can we please get to class?” Michelle asked. “I don't want to be late.”

“Fine,” I said. “Besides, how exactly can we ‘live a little' when we're stuck in school for the next six hours?”

“Point taken.” Katie lifted her bag on her shoulder and led us into the hallway.

* * *

My worst nightmare became reality.

Leander hadn't planned on being a tutor at my school. No, he'd decided he'd pretend to be a licensed psychologist. Since I was the only person in school directly involved in the accident, that meant I was the only pupil he was going to counsel. This instantly made me the target of everyone's pity. The few kids in my class who weren't aware I'd been in the accident all turned to me, their eyes wide. Seconds later they started whispering to each other.

I shot my angriest glare at Leander, who was standing in front of the class looking as innocent as a newborn babe. He'd dressed up to play the part of a psychologist, wearing a navy blue sweater and dark brown pants.

“Mr. Pyne has requested to have a talk with you after second period,” the principal droned on. He'd barged into Mr. O'Toole's class with Leander in tow, had given a speech about how terrible the accident was and how glad he was that I made it out alive — even though he'd never even talked to me before, so I doubt he was as glad as he pretended to be — and how the school had arranged for a psychologist if I wanted to talk to someone.

Mr. O'Toole sat on his desk, his arms crossed in front of his large belly. His mouth was a thin line, a look he always got when he wasn't pleased with something. This time it was probably the principal interrupting his class.

I didn't want anyone's sympathy because I'd been in the accident. I was fine. If anyone deserved their sympathy it was that little boy who died, or Claire and the other paramedics who'd risked their lives to save others.

It took me a minute to realize the principal was waiting for my response. “Oh. Um. Okay,” I mumbled.

“Classroom 217,” the principal said. Then he diverted into another speech about how thoughtful the school was and how well they took care of their students.

Leander gave me a small smile, but I deliberately ignored him and focused on my desk instead.

When they finally left, I relaxed in my seat. My shoulders burned from tension, and I sighed. If one of my Angel powers involved giving myself a massage, that would've been great.

Mr. O'Toole continued his lecture, drawing matrices on the blackboard and telling us about the importance of mathematics. I wrote down everything he said without taking much notice of it.

I paused to look up at the blackboard when my neighbor, Stacey, leaned over and whispered to me. “Are you okay?”

I sighed and resisted the urge to run away out of the classroom and not come back. But Stacey was just about the nicest girl in school. When I was sick for two weeks with the flu, she brought my homework over every evening and even helped me study for a test I missed. “I'm fine,” I whispered. “Just a slight concussion.”

“Good to hear that. Want to meet up after school? We're heading over to the Shack. It would be awesome if you and your friends came too.”

I frowned and stared at my notebook. Katie would be thrilled, of course. She loved hanging out after school, and the Shack was just about
the
place to be. Mich would come too, after some convincing. But what if Leander wanted to meet up to train my Angel powers?

Oh, screw that. My entire life had turned upside down, so I deserved some mindless fun.

“Deal,” I said. “I'll ask the others.”

“Great.” Stacey smiled and bright lights sparkled in her eyes. She was the most popular girl in school, not just because she was the captain of the cheerleading squad, or any of those things you see in movies. She was popular because she was nice to everyone. She probably knew the name of every single student in the entire school. “And if you ever want to talk to someone, I'm here. I went through something similar once.”

I nodded and smiled, hoping to come across as grateful instead of preoccupied. As much as I appreciated the offer, I'd rather everyone just forgot about it and moved on with their lives.

I BARGED INTO LEANDER'S
newfound office, classroom 217, and threw my backpack on the ground.

He was sitting behind a desk, reading the newspaper as if he had no care in the world. He looked up at me, a frown appearing on his handsome face.

“So let me get this straight,” I said. “You thought, ‘Hey, I need to squeeze in a few hours a day to teach my newest Halfling Angel of Death the basics. She just went through a traumatizing experience, so here's an idea… how about I pose as a psychologist?'” I paused and rolled my eyes. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I needed an
actual
psychologist after all that's happened?”

“Well, then you're in luck.” Leander put the newspaper down and looked up at me. His smile was disarming, but I wasn't ready to give up my battle just yet. “I happen to be a licensed psychologist.”

I frowned and slumped down on the nearest seat. “You're kidding me.”

“Nope. When you live forever, or at least close to forever, you pick up a few degrees here and there.”

“And your psychology degree is still valid? Because if you picked it up sometime in the nineteenth century, then I've got a news flash for you — lobotomy isn't all that fashionable anymore.”

His eyes sparkled when he laughed. Katie had been right when she said he was hot. He was perfect. He was one of those good-looking guys you only find on the covers of magazines or in perfume commercials, not in real life. Yet there was something off-putting about that perfect look, about the white teeth, curly hair, and masculine jawline.

“I'm glad you're taking all this with the necessary amount of humor,” he said, flashing some of those white teeth.

I shrugged and leaned back in my seat.

Leander got up and walked over to me. He grabbed a chair and sat down at the other side of the desk, so close that our knees touched. “We'll start with a simple exercise. I want you to get a vibe of this whole mindreading thing. I'll think of something, but I won't tell you. I'll lower down my protective walls and I want you to go find out what I'm thinking.”

“That doesn't sound simple.”

“Hold my hands and close your eyes.”

I did as he told me to. My hands trembled a little.

“Now, this is just to make things easier. In time, you'll be able to do it even from a distance. But we're not doing this exercise to teach you to read other people's minds — we're doing it so you can feel where the border is between your mind and someone else's mind.”

I frowned. “That makes no sense.”

“Just give it a shot. Picture your energy expanding. Think of it as a bolt of light coming from your mind and streaming into mine.”

I pictured the bolt of light. But when I tried to picture the energy moving, a flashback of the accident appeared instead. My car, crashing into the car in front of me. The chaos, the fire.

I yanked my hands away from his and took a few deep breaths. “I'm sorry.”

“What happened? Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. Just… I got an image from the accident. I don't remember all of it, but sometimes I have these flashes.”

“It's all right,” Leander said, patting my hand. “I didn't expect this to work from the first try. Let's give it another go.”

We tried again, and again, and again, until I had a clear picture of a bolt of light flying from my mind to Leander's, accessing his most secret thoughts. Then, something happened. A wave of energy traveled from my mind into his, past a border I didn't even know was there. I became a spectator riding on top of this energy wave. The wave flew past the crumbling walls of a mental barrier in Leander's mind, until we ended up in a desert beyond that. In the middle of the desert lay one single thought, spelled out right in front of me.

“The sky is blue,” I said. “That's what you were thinking about.”

“Not a very original thought, I admit,” Leander said. “But you did find it. Did you feel the wall I'd pulled down to let you through?”

“I think I saw it. It looked like a medieval fortress wall, but it had crumbled down.”

His lips curled into a smile. “That's because I let it crumble down so your energy could pass through. We've made good progress, Riley.”

My smile swelled with pride.

“We're going to make a similar wall in your mind. It'll help protect your thoughts from others.”

“So when I build this wall and you try to access my thoughts, you'll see that wall too? Not just feel it?”

“Yep. It's not exactly
seeing
though. We call it ‘seeing with our mind's eye'. That's why it's easier to do this with your eyes closed; it helps distinguish what you can see with your eyes from what you see with your mind's eye.”

“This sounds like some new-age spiritual thing. Not to be too curious or anything, but what powers do we have besides the mindreading?”

“I thought you'd never ask.” Leander leaned back in his seat and smiled like a cat who'd just got milk. “We can fly, for one.”

“No way. Like the teleportation thing wasn't cool enough.” My heart fluttered at the thought of flying.

“Teleportation drains a lot of our powers. We're only meant to do it when there's an emergency, when we're collecting souls, or when we have a meeting with the Council. Apart from that, no teleportation.”

“What if someone sees us when we're… flying?” It sounded weird, rolling off my tongue. Humans didn't fly. It had always been something I dreamt of — being able to fly — but I thought more along the lines of airplanes or helicopters, not this.

“We try to do it only by night, when no one will notice us.”

“Makes sense.” I bit my lower lip. “Hold on, if I can fly then why don't I have any wings?” I already daydreamed about flying to the top of church, through the mountains, over the seas…

Suddenly, the idea of being an Angel of Death didn't sound so bad after all.

“They will appear of their own accord. Impossible to rush it. When they're ready to grow, they'll grow.”

“The Council Members had wings. Large black ones. But I didn't see Diane's wings.”

“That's because hers are smaller.” Leander hesitated. “If you value your life, I suggest you don't ask her why. But in general, the rule is that the older or the more powerful an Angel is, the longer their wings are.”

“So my wings will be small? But I'll still be able to fly, right?”

“Of course.”

“And while I'm waiting for these wings to mysteriously grow…wait! Will these wings grow out of my back?” My eyes went wide and I cringed at the thought of how much that would hurt.

“Yes. And even when you close your wings, you'll still have some scar tissue on your back.”

My earlier enthusiasm melted like snow in the sun. “So basically, no more trips to the beach for me. My back will forever be deformed?”

“It's not
that
bad. Here, I'll show you.”

Before I could stop him, Leander got up and took his sweater off.

I swallowed and licked my lips. My throat went dry. Not only was this the first time I'd been alone in a room with a guy who was semi-naked, but on top of that, he was gorgeous. I'd expected him to be on the thin side, but he was actually a lot more muscular than I would've given him credit for. Not bodybuilder-bulky muscular, but lean and slim.

“Don't stare, that's rude.” Leander grinned before he turned around, his back toward me. “Now come on, I won't bite.”

I wanted to move but my feet were glued to the ground. It took all my determination to lift my left foot, then my right foot, and to walk over to him.

Two large cuts under his shoulder blades deformed the otherwise perfect skin of his back.

“Does it hurt?”

“Nah. I've gotten used to it. At the start, it hurts every time you open up your wings though.”

Mesmerized, I touched his skin. My fingers travelled along the small cuts.

Leander gasped, and I pulled back right away. “I'm sorry.”

“That's okay. I….” He stepped away from me and reached for his t-shirt. “You startled me, that's all.” He pulled the sweater back over his head. “Any more questions?”

“About a dozen, at least.” I took a step back, suddenly aware of how close we were standing. “So you mentioned flying, teleportation and mindreading powers? Anything else?”

“We have supernatural strength. Not like Superman, but we're stronger than humans. Faster too.”

I frowned. “I didn't notice any of that yet.”

“That's because, like most of our powers, it only activates when we need it. Did you do any heavy lifting since we awakened your powers?”

His choice of words brought me back to the conversation with Gran in the basement of her shop. While it had been a heavy conversation, no actual heavy lifting was involved. “Nope.”

“Well, next time you try to lift a bed, a closet, a couch, or anything remotely heavy, you'll notice.”

“All right. Go on.”

“We have an awesome immune system. We don't get ill. When we get hurt, our wounds heal right away. There's only a limited number of weapons that can kill us, most of them infused with unholy power. Before you ask, that's entirely too long a story to tell right now.”

“Kick-ass immune system, registered.”

Leander smiled again, and a wave of butterflies rose up in my belly.

You can't do this, Riley. Keep your head in the game.

“Immortality. We don't grow older. Baby Angels don't exist. We're created, and from that moment, we look exactly the same until we die.”

“Hold on a second. Not growing older? You mean I'll be a teenager forever?” The butterflies were instantly replaced by a wave of nausea.

“It doesn't work like that for Halflings. You'll grow older, but at some point it'll stop. You may grow up for a few more years, and then one day you'll simply stop aging. You don't live forever, but Halflings tend to live a good five hundred years or more.”

“Wow.” I dropped back in my seat and swallowed the lump in my throat. “That's a lot to take in.”

Never growing old… it was both a fantasy and a nightmare. When I was a little kid, I always played house, and then I was a mom and had a couple of kids to take care of. While it wasn't something I wanted in the near future, it had always been a distant dream. And now it was shattered. Even though Angels could have children — my birth proved that — I'd be the forever-twenty-something Mom. Or maybe thirty-something, if I was lucky.

“How do you know all this?” I asked him. “I mean, about Halflings.”

Leander didn't respond for a minute. He looked away from me and whispered, “I'm the one who trained Darius.”

My mouth dropped to the floor. “The Darius everyone was talking about? The guy who supposedly betrayed everyone?”

“The one and only. Of course, we didn't know that when I began training him.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I'm surprised they let you train me. They were still pissed off about whatever that Darius guy did.”

“He started a revolution.” Leander gazed out the window as he spoke, and his voice sounded distant, as if he had traveled back in time and was reliving the moment. “There are plenty of things wrong with us Angels. We're old-fashioned and stubborn and we prefer to stick to beliefs we've had for the last millennium rather than update our views. And one of those things is that we do what the Archangels say, no questions asked. Darius refused to complete a task given to him by the most powerful of the Archangels, Raphael.”

“What did they ask from him?” I asked, ignoring the feeling of dread growling in my stomach.

“They wanted him to take the soul of a girl he'd fallen in love with. Back then, mating with humans wasn't frowned upon — it was normal. Our bloodlines were dying… still are. Nobody had anything against Darius or the girl, but it was her time to die. Simple as that.”

“He couldn't let her go,” I guessed.

“And he wouldn't let anyone else take her either. He protected her against all of us. He was the Halfling son of an Archangel and his powers were immense. None of us stood a chance. Even worse, he managed to convince others to follow him, to stop taking orders blindly and to start questioning the rules of Heaven. The Archangels didn't take that lightly.”

“Was there a fight?”

“More than one. There was a war. We were divided for the first time in millennia. Many of us died. You can probably already guess which side won.” He turned to me now, a challenge glistening in his eyes.

“All the anti-Darius propaganda tells me he didn't come out victorious.”

“He didn't. With his death, the revolution died out as well, but the Archangels fear that another revolution may rise. That's why they're wary of Halflings.”

“The Council members, are they the Archangels?”

“No. They're the only ones in direct contact with the Archangels, but they're still regular Angels. Well, most of them. Seraphyn used to be an Archangel.”

“Used to be?” My face twisted into a frown.

“She picked Darius' side. They clipped her wings.”

“But I saw her. She had wings.”

“Black wings, like all Angels of Death. Archangels have golden wings.”

“Oh.”

I didn't know what to say and apparently Leander didn't either. He moved away from the window and walked toward me. “Now you know a little about Angel history,” he said. “That means it's time to conclude our lesson.”

“All right.” I pushed the seat back to get up and reached for my backpack, when a thought crossed my mind. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What side did you choose?”

The silence that followed stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, before Leander whispered. “The wrong one.” The smile had disappeared from his face and he looked years older.