Soul Crossed (15 page)

By the time I return, Grace is grinning at me. I sit near her and take her hand, turning it over in mine. Enjoying the fire it ignites in my body.

“Where were we?” I ask.

“We were discussing the fate of Cam’s soul.”

Every second I spend with him brings more certainty that I’ve made the right decision. That he isn’t evil, and that we can find a way to be together. But I must remember what is more important than my own happiness. It’s the fate of the world we are talking about here.

I resist going upstairs to his apartment at first. Not because I am afraid of him, but because I am afraid of his roommate. I’ve asked for more information about Keira, and all he can really tell me is that she is three-hundred-and-fifty years old. I try to wrap my head around the idea that she has been wreaking havoc on men’s souls for nearly three centuries. But the idea is too mind boggling to comprehend. I decide my instincts are right, and she is someone I must take care to avoid.

“She won’t bother us anymore tonight,” he says. But he also tells me that she is the one who supplied Cam with the knife capable of ending my existence. So that doesn’t help calm my nerves.

His apartment is sparse. The furniture is nice, but it is neutral in every way. There is nothing that reveals a teenage boy living here. Nothing that defines it as his. I hesitate to sit on the white sofa, afraid to soil it with my filthy costume, and wish I could go home to change. But I know I’ll arrive to an inquisition from Ms. Alvarez, and I don’t yet know how—or if—to explain Josh.

“You probably want to shower.” He offers me use of the master suite that Keira has claimed as her room. My need for hygiene ends up outweighing my fear of being discovered, and I agree to the shower.

An overwhelming collection of soaps, lotions, and bath salts line the counters along with just about every perfume and makeup known to man. I select a lavender-scented soap, which should help calm my nerves, and step into the shower.

The hot water soothes my muscles instantly, and I relax, scrubbing away the grime and dried blood. I try not to think about the scarlet swirls that flow down the drain. Because when I do think about them, about how it is my own blood, I start to tremble. Then I recall Josh’s confession and tremble even harder.

He said he loves me.

When I’m done I feel refreshed, renewed, and invigorated. I rub some lotion into my skin and wrap myself in one of the fluffy white towels, pull a second around my head like a turban, and foray through Keira’s closet. It is not an easy task to find a suitable dress in there. There are more than enough, but they are all far too revealing for my taste. For anyone’s taste—except maybe a hooker.

I shuffle through until I reach the wall on one side and start picking back through to the other, convinced that she
must
own something decent, when my hand touches something cold and hard. I jerk away, but after a moment my curiosity gets the best of me, and I pull the clothes back to find four knives strapped to the wall. My eyes travel over each one, and I notice there is an empty sheath in the corner. With a chill I realize it’s for the dagger I used in the play.

The worst knife is the one in the center. It’s a twelve-inch blade—not quite a dagger, not quite a sword. The edge glitters though there’s no light to reflect off it. The handle is a large cross, encrusted with all types of jewels. The two pieces are soldered together, a nasty black line running between as though they are trying desperately to pull themselves apart. I can’t help but think of magnets trying to repel each other but being forced together by a curious child.

Shivering, I pull the clothing back to cover the horrible things and resume my search for something to wear. Knowing what’s back there, I can’t get out of the room fast enough.

Finally, I feel ready for the white couch and head back to find Josh waiting. He too looks clean and refreshed, in his usual jeans and button-down. The shirt is cobalt blue and brings out his eyes, which I am pleased to see light up as they take me in from head to toe.

I spin around and pose like Keira in the little black dress and strappy sandals. It’s low cut and the skirt feels more like a wide belt, but it’s the most conservative thing I could find. We both laugh at my imitation, and I snuggle up next to him on the couch.

“Keira has some interesting taste in clothing,” I say.

“I never noticed,” he says, and I smack him lightly on the arm. He takes in my outfit. “This looks far better on you, but don’t tell her I said so.” I bite at the ends of my wet hair and cuddle up closer.

“Have you two…you know,” I ask, because I have to know.

“Almost, once. But I kind of blew it,” he says. This is not the answer I expected.

“How?”

“I sort of said your name.” Wow.

I back off a little and pull at the bottom of the dress. “I bet she didn’t like that very much.”

“That’s the understatement of the year.”

“And is that why she gave Cam the dagger?”

He shifts in his seat but doesn’t look directly at me. “She would have done that anyway. She wants you dead because of what she is and what you are.”

“But you don’t care?”

“I care too much.”

I believe every word, and all I want to do is kiss him. But I have to finish our earlier conversation first. “And Cam?” I ask.

Again, his eyes glow like embers, but I wait, and after a moment it disappears. “I could kill him for what he did.”

“You had a hand in it. Don’t forget.”

He cringes like I hit him. “I can never forget.”

I can’t bear to see him so miserable. “I forgive you, Josh. I also choose to forgive Cam.”

“Because of his past? The parent who won’t love him?”

“Yes and yes.”

“There are things you don’t know about him.”

“I could say the same.” We stare at each other for a long while, both stubborn. “I won’t give up on him.”

“It might be kind of hard now that he wants to kill you.”

“As long as Keira doesn’t give him any more cursed blades, I’ll be fine.” I fold my arms in defiance.

“I can’t give up on my end, either. I have to try and corrupt him beyond redemption. But it isn’t because I want to.” He is pleading with his eyes. “I meant it when I said I don’t have a choice.”

“And I meant it when I said there’s always a choice.” I can see he is fighting something, and I wait.

“The only other option is the eternal torment of Hell,” he says. And now I see how foolish I’ve been. Wouldn’t I make the same decision, given such an alternative? I swallow.

“Josh—” I move to comfort him, but he pulls away.

“You’re right,” he says. “I know what I should do. What I would do, if I were some hero in a movie. But this is my life we’re talking about. And the pain, Grace. You have no idea…” I can see he does, though. Satan has given him a taste of what it means to exist for all eternity in the torment of Hell.

“There must be some other way,” I choke.

“Grace,” he says, leaning in and stroking my cheek with his hand. “It’s too late for me. The best I can do is fulfill my duty and try to stay on Lucifer’s good side.”

“But it’s destroying you, Josh, don’t you see? He’s forcing you to do these horrible things so you’ll lose yourself bit by bit until you’re just like…just like Keira!”

“The only reason I even care at all is because I don’t want you see me as a monster.”

“You aren’t a monster.” I slide in next to him and curl my hands through his hair. “Would I want to do this with a monster?” I kiss him. Slow and deep, pulling back just enough to let him answer.

“I’m a monster for letting you,” he says.

I press a finger to his lips and look deep into his eyes.

“I love you, Josh.” I can no longer deny the feelings burning inside of me.

His mouth finds mine again, and we are lost to each other. I climb onto my knees so we are at equal heights and lean into his body. His shirt is rough against my skin, and I unbutton it slowly, without taking my mouth off of his.

When it is open I pull it back from his shoulders and touch my lips to the crook of his neck. He leans back against the cushions, closing his eyes as I smooth my hands over his chest and kiss my way back to his mouth. To reach him, I climb over him, straddling his lap, and his hands pull me down so that our bodies press together.

My head is reeling, my body on fire with need. His fingers find the zipper at the back of the dress, and before I know what’s happening it has fallen to my waist. I open my mouth to stop him but all that comes out is a moan as he lays me back on the couch, working the dress off down my legs and kissing every inch of me.

I’ve never gone this far before, and I’m not sure I can go back. Every last atom in my body is calling out for him, and I am truly lost. He stands for a moment, looking down at me with so much adoration that it sets me on fire as much as his kisses. He is naked now, and I cannot help thinking that he is the true Angel—so beautiful that he takes my very breath away.

He kneels by my side, and I pull him toward me with a hunger I did not know I possessed. His body slides against mine, and my skin tingles with an anticipation that is almost too much to bear.

He hesitates, holding himself over me with his arms. He looks into my eyes, and I see my own desire mirrored in his. The almost painful longing.

“I can’t do this.”

What?
He moves to pull away, and I tighten my grip.

“Josh, I want you.” Maybe he needs me to say it.

He rolls off the couch and collapses on the floor in a ball.

“Josh—” I reach out to touch him, but he get up and runs into his bedroom, slams the door, and locks it.

My head is between my knees, my arms are wrapped around them, and I am rocking back and forth, naked on the floor, like a child. My body trembles with the lust still running through my veins, but I breathe through it, nearly hyperventilating. I sob again. Loud, pitiful sounds that no grown man should ever make.

Why
? What did I do in my measly, pathetic life that deserves this kind of retribution? Yes, I hurt people. I could be cruel at times. Selfish. Greedy. But I never forced myself on anyone. I never took anyone’s life. I never stole anything from anyone who would miss it.

I did drugs, but only socially. I never dealt, or sold my body, or did any of the things that makes an addict an addict. I drank like a fish, but I only did it to bury the pain. When I’m drunk I can forget, at least for a little while. And I’m damn sure I didn’t have an Angel to help look after my soul.

“I’m going to go now, Josh,” Grace calls from outside the door. I can hear the worry in her voice, the uncertainty and insecurity. She’s probably chewing on her hair again.

I watch in my mind as she lifts a hand to touch the other side of the door before walking away. I continue rocking in place, my breathing finally evening out to a somewhat regular rhythm.

I almost did it. I was
this close
to damning her to purgatory or whatever the Hell happens when an Angel is disgraced. How could I live with myself after that? How could I save her life just to discard it again like yesterday’s garbage? She must have been quite a person to get where she is. She deserves the best. She’s nothing like me. But how can I survive eternity without touching her?

I sense someone standing over me before I see him, or rather, before I see his shoes—black patent leather shoes. Like those of a 1920’s gangster, minus the spats.
Shit
. Maybe if I keep my head down, he’ll go away.

“Pathetic. Truly pathetic. And I had such high hopes for this one.”

Figured that wouldn’t work.

Slowly, very slowly, I raise my head, but I keep my arms tight around my knees to cover as much of my naked body as possible. Not only is Satan standing there, adjusting the sleeves on his Armani sport coat, but Keira is poised on the edge of my bed, grinning from ear to ear. I hate how she’s enjoying this.

“I wouldn’t look so happy if I were you,” I say to her. “You’re supposed to be mentoring me.”

“Spoken like a true Demon. Always trying to throw the blame around.” Lucifer beams down at me like a benevolent father. The kind I never had.

“You’re playing favorites,” Keira says, pouting like a jealous child. But all he has to do is shoot her a look, and she quiets.

“Joshua, get up. That position is unbecoming of a man, let alone a Demon.” I rise, obedient as ever in his presence. Keira lets loose a catcall, and I flinch. “For Hell’s sake, Joshua, put some clothes on. That’s very distracting.” He snaps his fingers, and I am wearing a suit just like his, right down to the shiny shoes. He nods in approval.

“Oooh, I love a man in a good suit,” Keira says. She sure knows how to kiss up.

“Keira here tells me that you are falling head-over-heals for this cherub of yours.” Lucifer puts an arm around my shoulder and walks me forward a few steps, as though we’re having a private conversation. I glare back at her, but she shrugs.

“I wouldn’t be much of a mentor if I didn’t tell on you.”

“Sir—” I begin.

“Call me Lucifer,”

“Lucifer, I’m sorry. I really am. She’s just so, so—”

“Perfect?” he asks, nodding.

“Well, yes. And—”

“Good? Beautiful? All of the above?”

“Yes.”

“She’s an
Angel
, Joshua. That’s how they are. They’re made to be perfect. Think of it this way: if they weren’t like that, they’d have nothing to offer. Who on Earth would choose a lifetime of thankless work just to join a bunch of misfit losers?”

That’s how it is with The Boss. He twists things so I have no choice but to agree.

“I understand, Sir, it’s just that I can’t—”

“Bear to cause her pain? See the look of crushed disappointment on her face when it’s over?” He sees my expression and rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’m not referring to the sex, my boy, we can all see you are more than adequately equipped to handle that part. I mean, after she falls?”

I nod.

“Sometimes you have to make the tough choices in this business, Joshua. I know what you’re going through, I do. But we have a job to do. So, you’re going to have to suck it up, deal with the heartbreak, and take one for the team.” He slaps me on the back.