Soul Crossed (16 page)

“I can’t—” His eyes flash scarlet, and I stop.

“That word is no longer in your vocabulary,
capiche
? Now, I like you, Joshua. If I didn’t I would have already replaced you. I have big plans for you, my boy. Big plans. But they can’t happen if you’re too soft. So, let me lay it all out for you so there’s no ambiguity, OK?” I nod and he smiles, stepping back while Keira replaces him at my side.

“You can either refuse me—Satan—and suffer eternal damnation…” He snaps and excruciating pain slices through me. I fall to my knees with no breath to scream, and the pain continues like an axe slicing me open from the inside out. I collapse to the ground, unable to support myself, and all I can see is the front of his shoes as I twitch uncontrollably on the floor.

I’m sure I’ll die at any moment, but death never comes to claim me. Instead, the pain intensifies, and I’m blind with agony. I try to form words. Try to beg for it to end, but I only end up looking like a fish gasping for breath as it bakes in the sun.

And then it’s over, and I’m retching all over the carpet. Lucifer steps back to avoid it spattering his shoes and waits while I collect myself.

“Or,” he continues as though nothing happened, “you have what will probably be the best sex of your life with the woman you love. You take a few tears and—” Lucifer slows down to look me in the eye, taking my shoulders in his hands. “I don’t know if I mentioned this part. If we convince her to join us, which should be pretty easy at that point, you get to screw her for the rest of eternity.” He lets go of me and adjusts his lapel. “Now, tell me, Joshua, which will it be?”

Could it be true? “You’re saying we can be together?” I ask.

“Always and forever.”

“Lucifer always tells the truth,” Keira adds, as though she’s read my mind. “It’s a fact. Just ask your girlfriend.”

Suddenly, option number two doesn’t seem so bad.

I stop at the long-deserted school to change back into my own clothes before returning for the night. I can only imagine how it might affect Ms. Alvarez’s delicate sensibilities if I showed up in an outfit repaired with Demon magic.

I am about to leave when I hear something in the back of the auditorium. I creep around through the wings and peer through the side of the curtain. My heart is pounding although I know perfectly well I am safe from any normal mischief. Still, the dark and desolate theater with its long shadows and ancient, musty smell make me feel like I’ve just walked into a murder mystery.

Holding my breath, I listen for the sound, and just when I am about to chalk it up to the scuttle of a rat I hear it again. I narrow my eyes and strain against the dark until I see a tiny red speck in the tech booth. The glowing end of a cigarette. Cam is there. I know it’s him. I know it deep in my bones. And for some reason, I can’t stop shaking.

Josh’s words come back to me.
There are things you don’t know
. If he wasn’t talking about Cam’s past, then what have I missed about his present?

I watch the cigarette glimmer in the dark until it goes out and then I let the curtain fall back into place. I make my way back outside, quiet as a mouse, and call for Ms. Alvarez. I can avoid it no longer.

When the pressure releases I am back in the all-too-familiar classroom. Ms. Alvarez sits waiting for me, sipping her tea, and I can see by the wrinkles in her brow that she is anything but pleased.

“Good evening, Ms. Alvarez,” I say with as much perkiness as I can manage.

“You’re late, Miss Howard.” Uh-oh.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I really am. It’s just that I’ve had quite a day.”

“I’m listening.” She sips at her teacup while I fumble for the right words.

“You see, I might have miscalculated a little.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Well, I might have been a little too nice to Cam, and he might have misinterpreted that niceness…so naturally, I had to let him down easy, and he, um, didn’t take it too well.” I finish in a rush and smile too wide, waiting for her response.

“Continue.” She crosses her arms on the desk and leans forward.

“Well, I had the play tonight and Cam, being so…upset at my rejection, may have…tried to kill me.”

Ms. Alvarez drains her tea and then leans back in the chair, pouring a second cup. “Hmm.” I wait with baited breath while she mulls this over. “It sounds as though the evil inside him is growing. The closer Satan gets to taking control, the more dangerous the situation.”

“Ms. Alvarez, what is it that makes the Devil and his minions so dangerous?” I chew on my hair as she nearly spits out the remainder of her glass.

“Satan, Beelzebub, Lucifer—whatever you want to call him—is not someone to be trifled with—even by an Angel. He was among the strongest of our kind, after all.” Is it respect I hear in her voice? “The Devil is a master of manipulation.”

“But how can he harm us if our hearts are pure—” Josh’s heart is pure.

“It does not matter, Miss Howard!” I fear I’ve gone too far as she pounds her fist into the desk, causing the cup to clatter dangerously against the saucer. “He can convince you the sky is orange if he so chooses.”

“But if you assume everything he says is a lie—”

“That’s just it, Gracelyn.” I flinch at the sound of my full name on her lips. “Have you listened to none of my lessons? He doesn’t lie. Not ever. The Devil always tells the truth. But it is such a twisted truth that you cannot see what is right in front of your face.”

“I see.” I lower my head until my hair brushes the top of the desk. “And once the Devil owns a soul?” I risk asking this one last thing.

“That is why you must prevent this at any cost.” She settles back into her seat and makes sure to catch my eye. “Even if he isn’t the Antichrist, once claimed, his soul is forfeit for eternity. Such is the way with the Devil.”

Before he leaves, Lucifer makes sure to remind me about my work with Cam. Like I could forget. But I can put up with it, now that there’s the chance of spending eternity with Grace. I hold the promise in my heart like a child clings to a security blanket. I’ve already convinced myself that even though she might be angry at first, she’ll understand eventually. She possesses a seemingly endless capacity for forgiveness, after all. Besides, if she understood becoming a Demon meant we could be together, she’d probably be the first to volunteer. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

Just to be safe, I’m going to wait to explain things to her. Sometimes you have to do something for someone’s own good. It’ll save her the pain involved if I make this one decision for the both of us.

I knock on Cam’s door and am taken off guard when he taps me on the shoulder. I must really be distracted for him to sneak up on me like that.

“Don’t do that, dude.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t look it.

“What?” I ask. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just wondering how loyal a friend you actually are.” Well, that was blunt.

“Didn’t I tell you? Our little Grace broke Joshy’s heart, too.”

It looks like it’s a day for surprises. Keira has just appeared at Cam’s side, and she’s draping herself over him like an oil spill over marine life.

“What?” Cam asks. He appears tolerant of Keira’s touch, which surprises me and yet doesn’t.

“She squashed him. Like a bug. Right after he saved her life, the little ingrate.”

Cam can’t hide his shock at this discovery. He examines me as though unsure of how to take it in. I guess he’d decided I was the enemy. Who knows? Maybe he already had my demise all planned out.

“I see you’ve met my sister,” I say. Keira smiles.

“It was weird, really,” Cam says. “I was at the hardware store picking up some supplies to finish off my latest project, and she recognized me from that day in the library.”

“I gave him the gift. Hope you don’t mind, little bro—I know you wanted me to pick it up and wrap it, but since he was there and I was there and I had it, it just seemed the right thing to do.” I know she’s talking about the dagger. The one that almost killed Grace. I fight back the urge to strangle her. It would be useless.

“What happened to Grace last night?” Cam asks in a measured tone, ignoring Keira, which is no small feat as she’s now rubbing at his shoulders like his own personal masseuse.

“Funny thing,” I say, just as evenly. “She took some extra meds before the show to calm her nerves, and they kicked in just as she was about to commit suicide over me.”

“What timing,” he says. Our eyes lock together in the ultimate game of chicken.

“I know. Just a few more minutes and the play would have been over.”

“It looked like there was a lot of blood when I ran into you in the woods. More than what was in the packet. Where did that come from?”

“When I ran with her, her arm caught on a branch and she got a pretty good slice. Luckily it was superficial.” I repeated the story I made up for the paramedics. Corroboration is important in these matters. I do know a thing or two about lying.

He swallows, still full of doubt but unable to reconcile his suspicions. But what’s easier to believe—coincidence, or that there’s something supernatural going on? He turns away and nods his head.

“Lucky you were there,” he says. Damn right.

Keira whispers in his ear. He’s the only one here who doesn’t realize I can hear every word.

“I found the dagger yesterday, left on the stage when everyone cleared out. I got rid of it for you.” He stiffens at this, but betrays no other sign that he’s upset by her words.

“So, I’ll see you tonight?” she asks him, louder. “Don’t forget, you owe me a date. Joshy, I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this one from me, you naughty boy.” With a kiss blown to Cam, she saunters off to her gleaming black Corvette and peels away.

I’m spending the day in the library. It’s never let me down before. I tell the librarian to let me use the computer as long as I like, past the designated half-hour turn I’m supposed to get. She smiles, happy to help, and I add that I’m not to be disturbed.

It feels weird making people do things for me, but I certainly won’t accomplish this particular task with Ms. Alvarez hanging on my every move. I’ve found that my room—the one that I can change any way I want—isn’t as great as I first thought, considering she never leaves me alone to use it. There are always more lessons, more lectures about Satan. I’m sure she’s repeated everything at least three times by now. I suspect Ms. Alvarez is desperately lonely.

I open up the browser and begin Googling. I type in
how to get out of Hell
but get mostly junk. I click on several links just to see, but it’s clearly information meant for people who are alive and still have an opportunity to do good. I think of Cam, and a shadow creeps across my heart. I’m still responsible for saving his soul, and it seems the more I try, the worse he gets. And after last night, it’s going to be very awkward between the two of us.

He tried to kill me. I still have trouble believing it. I must have hurt him pretty badly if that’s how he wanted to get back at me. I think back to my life in Washington and wonder if I ever hurt anyone else that drastically without realizing it.

But all I can think of is my family, and the hollow feeling that I’ve worked so hard to keep pressed down into a tiny ball in the bottom of my stomach bursts open and expands to fill my entire body. It isn’t fair. I’m supposed to be in Heaven. I’m supposed to be an Angel. I shouldn’t be this miserable.

I type a few more word combinations into Google—“escape from Hell,” “the Devil and the eternal soul,” “moving from Hell to Heaven”—but I don’t have more luck than before. Then I try the internal library catalog. All I get is pages of Faustian literature. No good. Josh didn’t make a deal with the Devil. He died, and the Devil claimed him.

Frustrated, I slam the keyboard with my fist and attract the attention of the few other people who choose to spend their Saturday in the library. I smile apologetically and put my head down on the desk. I’ve hit a dead end, and it happened a lot faster than I thought it would.

What was I expecting? It isn’t like the answer could possibly exist down here. No living person has the answers I’m looking for. No living person could. And I can’t ask Ms. Alvarez. That’s simply out of the question. She might be an Angel, but she would hate the question. She’d never let me explain. Never see the good I know exists in Josh’s soul.

I don’t know what she could do to Josh, but I am pretty sure she wouldn’t ever let me see him again. And without him, the emptiness inside will consume me entirely.

I wish Heaven had a complaint department.

“You told her things,” Cam accuses.

“I’m sorry,” I say, not knowing what “things” Keira let slip. “I knew she’d be OK with it. She likes, you know, weapons, too.” He seems to accept this, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“The Pincushion is ready for a test flight,” Cam informs me. “It’s good timing because it’s getting kind of cold to be hunting outdoors.” I don’t argue that what he does more closely resembles cold-blooded murder than “hunting,” but instead nod dutifully and follow him inside.

Once in his room, he locks the door and double checks that the blinds are drawn tight. I notice with some surprise that Tommy, the dog Grace gave him, is sitting happily on his bed, chewing on a chicken leg. I sit next to him and stroke his head while Cam pulls his giant-sized contraption from beneath my feet. I don’t offer to help, despite the obvious strain involved.

There’s barely enough room for the thing in his room, but he doesn’t care. He opens the coffin-like box, revealing the horror within. It’s the same design I saw so long ago as a sketch in his drawer come to life.

At least fifty metal teeth, each a good eight inches long, hang suspended from the inside of the lid. Leather straps are attached to the interior, clearly meant to hold down ankles, wrists, and waist in such a position that the spokes above will pierce every inch of whomever is unlucky enough to be inside. Every inch except the person’s head, that is, which would stick out above the lid, in plain view, so Cam can watch his victim’s face.