My Soul Immortal (24 page)

“Don’t bother. Jack left. If it’s any consolation, he looked like someone dug his heart out with a spoon. So why don’t you just answer the question. Where did all those dreams come from?”

The room falls quiet.

“They’re all memories,” Leah finally says.

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

“And Jack’s memories line up with yours?” Grady asks tentatively.

Another round of silence.

I step into the doorway and bump the door open with my foot. “Yes, they do.”

“Okay. But you’re not like him.” Grady’s head bobs in my direction, but his eyes stay fixed on Leah. “That much, I’m sure of. Seems I was there the day you were born.”

Leah purses her lips. She studies her brother while she nervously twists a stray thread of the comforter around and around her index finger.

“You’re right. There are differences,” I speak up, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s more like we’re opposite sides of the same coin. My body is earthbound, while Leah’s soul is.” I go on to explain the intricacies of what we are, laying out all the facts for Grady’s examination.

“Wait. Wait. Wait,” he says. His eyes swivel between Leah and me, finally landing on her face. “You were that rich dude, Sir Whatshisface’s daughter? The girl you’ve been obsessing over.”

“Sir Robert Ashford,” she corrects. “And yes.”

He turns his gaping expression to me. “You’re the man the girl ran into the storm for.”

I nod.

“This is making my brain hurt. I’m going to bed.” Grady places his hand on my shoulder for a brief moment before stepping into the hall. A second later, a door shuts.

“He’ll be all right,” Leah says. “He just needs time.”

“No doubt. He’s had a lot to deal with.” I stay at the threshold, waiting for an invitation.

“Please, come in,” Leah says, almost in a whisper.

I enter and sit on the bed. “I realize I’m not being fair to you. You’re right. I’m concealing information from you, and that needs to stop.”

“Yes, it does.”

I take her hand, entwining our fingers. “I left to call someone—Artagan. You might remember him from the theater the night we went to the movie.”

She thinks for a second or two then nods. “The one you ran after because he reminded you of your friend?”

I stiffen. My eyes dart from her face to the floor and then to her face. “Well, yes, but that was a lie. I recognized him for other reasons. He helped me escape the enemy during the Great War, in France. I didn’t make the connection until recently—at the beach.”

I pause, taking a deep breath before I continue. “The day Ed died, I saw Artagan again. He wasn’t alone. I thought he was looking for me, so I called out to him. It seems that innocent act has drawn me—and in turn, you—into some kind of feud, earning the attention of another immortal named Vita. I’m sorry for that.”

“What does this have to do with you?”

“It’s a long story, but Vita holds Artagan and his descendants accountable for things that happened long ago. She’s intent on putting an end to his family line.”

“So Artagan’s your…?”

“He’s my family.” I can’t help but smile.

Leah stands. “So, she’s after you.” A flurry of anger swirls behind her eyes. “Why would you keep this from me? I can help. That bitch’s going to get to you over my dead body.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I squeeze her hand gently, leading her to the bed. “Artagan says Vita’s tearing up the Outback, searching for me, so we’re safe for now.”

“Do you trust him?”

I mentally list everything he’s done. I smile. “Surprisingly, yes. I believe he has my best interest at heart.”

“Okay, I trust your judgment of him, but no more secrets, all right?” she says ruefully.

“Agreed. Just remember, it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to rely on someone. Be patient with me. I’m still learning.”

“I have one more question. What happens to you if you die?”

I shrug. “Heaven, I guess.”
Or hell.

Silent, her gaze falls to the comforter.

“Don’t worry, love. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.” I let the back of my fingers brush along her cheek. “It’s late. You should get some sleep.”

I attempt to stand, but her hand holds fast.

“Were you planning on leaving?” she asks.

“I was.”

“Please stay.”

A smile takes full possession of my face. “My pleasure. Don’t tell Grady, but his sofa isn’t very comfortable. Hard as a brick.”

She laughs, but the chime is deflated.

I rest against the headboard, my arms folded behind my head, my legs crossed. Leah snuggles up to me and curls herself against my chest. I wrap an arm around her and rub her back to soothe her to sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The next morning, I try not to wake her. Gently, I extricate myself from Leah’s entwined arms. The bed wobbles as I stand, and Leah mumbles and rolls over. I freeze. Her tangled hair flops into her face. I stay still for another minute or two. Soon Leah begins to snore lightly. I grin and slink to the door.

I peer out into the dimly lit hall. Grady is nowhere to be seen.
Perfect.
I recoil at the thought of him catching me leaving his sister’s room at this time in the morning. No need to revisit that scenario. Been there; done that.

“Where are you going?” Leah asks, a little annoyed.

I jump, turning around.

Leah peers at me from the comfort of her bed, her eyelids droopy with sleepiness.

“Do you want Grady to catch me leaving your room?” I ask.

She shrugs then shakes her head.

“Didn’t think so.” I return to kiss her before slipping out.

In the living room, I climb onto Grady’s couch and yank the blanket over me. I shift about, finding a comfortable position among the pits and lumps. Just as I settle in, I hear a door open and Grady yawn. I close my eyes and snore lightly.

After listening to ten minutes of rummaging going on in the kitchen, I decide it’s safe to wake up.

Grady’s wearing plaid pajama pants and a Red Sox T-shirt. His hair sticks straight up like a rooster’s comb. He looks at me sheepishly. “Did I wake you?”

“No worries.” I add a stretch for effect.

“Sorry,” he says, banging more pots and pans. This time, it’s apparently intentional. A roguish grin spreads across his face.

“What are you doing anyway?”

He beams. “Cooking breakfast.”

“So you’re good? With Leah, I mean.”

“Couldn’t be better,” he says, taking the eggs out of the refrigerator. “I was up until about three, when it hit me. Leah isn’t crazy. Never was. What happened to her was normal for who she is. After that, I slept better than I have in years. A weight”—he cracks an egg and raises its empty shell halves over the frying pan—“has been lifted.”

I smile and nod.

I’m sitting at Grady’s small glass-top table, waiting patiently for his eggs to fry, when Leah emerges from her room, showered and dressed. When she sees Grady cooking in the kitchen, she wrinkles her nose. The worry in her eyes has vanished, and that realization brings a grin to my lips. She takes the seat next to me.

“Good morning,” she says. “How’d you sleep?”

I feel the corners of my mouth twitch upward. “Never better. You?”

A muffled giggle escapes her lips. “Perfectly,” she says.

“Grady insisted on making us breakfast this morning.”

Her expression is a portrait of panic.

My callused hand slips into her soft, smooth one and gives a little squeeze. “Be brave, love,” I tease.

“I heard that,” Grady says. He sets two plates of burnt toast and greasy fried eggs in front of us.

Leah pokes at the inflated egg whites with her fork and scrunches her eyes, wrinkling her nose again. “How did you get this consistency?”

Grady ignores her. “Charlotte has been teaching me how to cook. She said I’ve improved.”

“Charlotte? Who’s Charlotte?” Leah’s eyes shoot to Grady’s annoyed face.

“She’s one of the teachers over at the school. Now try them and see what you think.”

I chuckle, watching her poke at the eggs again, eyeing them skeptically as if they’re toxic.

Grady waits, his arms crossed over his puffed-out chest.

She cuts off the tiniest piece, places the bit on her tongue, and chews. Swallowing, she chases the lump down with a large gulp of milk.

“Yum,” Leah says unconvincingly. She puts down her fork and nibbles the dry toast.

Grady rolls his eyes and returns to the kitchen.

Taking a hesitant bite, I’m surprised. “These are bloody fantastic,” I say, shoving another bite in my mouth. When my plate is empty, I eye Leah’s. “If you’re not going to eat those…”

“Have at.” She picks up her toast and slides her laden plate toward me. She watches incredulously as I devour her eggs in three mouthfuls. “How can you like those? The sensation is more like a flavorless greasy mush than eggs.”

“See, it’s not my cooking. It’s you,” Grady says, returning with a bowl of steaming baked beans in one hand and a plate of sausages in the other. He places them on the table next to me and plops into a chair.

She shrugs halfheartedly and then takes another bite of toast. “Maybe. Tell me more about this Charlotte.”

“I told you. She’s a teacher,” Grady says with a bit of apprehension hidden in his irritation. His eyes avoid Leah, and he scoops a pile of baked beans onto his plate.

Leah’s eyes narrow. “Who’s teaching you to make breakfast? How often does she come over to give you lessons? Oh, wait, I understand.” Her face gleams with a wide grin. “Mom will be thrilled. And maybe having a girlfriend will keep your nose out of my business.”

“Don’t you dare tell Mom. She’s a friend. That’s all. Now eat your toast.” Grady shoves a spoonful of baked beans in his mouth.

“Uh-huh. Mary Pinkus was just a friend, too, if I remember correctly. That is until I caught the two of you making out in the back of your car at the end of our driveway.”

I laugh, stabbing a couple sausages with my fork.

Grady glares at Leah. “I was thinking you might want to meet some of my friends for dinner tonight, but not if you’re going to act like this—”

The trilling ring of my phone interrupts Grady’s lecture. The muscles along my shoulders and neck tense. I fish the phone out of my pocket and excuse myself, pushing away from the table.

I shut myself in Leah’s room. “Artagan, what’s going on?”

“Vita’s on the move.”

My mouth goes dry. “To where?”

“Venice.”

A frosty burn overtakes me, extending from the base of my spine to my neck’s apex. Slowly and deliberately, I pace the room, trying to keep my breathing even.

“Jack? You still there?”

“Yes.” My words come out more like a growl than I intended. “That’s a bit too close.”

“Istanbul would be too close for you. Now listen. I debated whether I should call you or not, but I wanted you to know you can trust me. Her travels have nothing to do with you. A job popped up. One I’m also invited to, which is good. I can keep a close eye on her.”

I tap the folded stash of hemlock in my pocket. My heartbeat speeds with the rush of adrenaline. “I could be on the next plane. I’d be there in a little over an hour. We could take care of that bitch once and for all.”

Artagan laughs. “Believe me, I would love nothing more, but I can’t help you with that. Rule number one. No slaughtering one’s fellow council members.”

“What? That’s what you all do! Besides, according to the story, Vita murdered Brennus.”

“No, Brennus committed suicide. Unfortunately, Vita’s not the nothing-to-live-for, in-the-depths-of-despair type. Look, we can talk about this later. I have to go. I’ll call you when this little assignment is finished.” He hangs up.

Venice
. Anger engulfs me, and fantasies of tearing Vita limb from limb then shoving hemlock down her gullet flash behind my eyes. The first might not kill her, but torturing her would make me feel better. In a pure wintery rage, my hand balls into a fist and slams into the nearest surface. A sharp bite cuts into the taut flesh of my knuckles. My vision skips from the lopsided hole in the wall to my bleeding hand, then to the shards of horsehair plaster littering the floor. I grab one of the socks from the top of Leah’s suitcase and wrap it around my knuckles, slumping onto the edge of the bed.

The door creaks. Someone slips in from the hall. The footsteps are too light to be Grady’s. I glance up to find Leah standing at the door, her expression a jumble of concern and anxiety. Her eyes trail from the fragments of shattered wall strewn across the hardwood floor to my improvised bandage. In three short steps, she’s at my side, sitting on the bed next to me. Her hand grips my arm, attempting to pull it toward her.

Maybe I could hunt Vita myself. However, I would have to leave Leah behind, and Grady couldn’t keep her safe from Vita. But if I stayed with her, could I do any better? I jerk my arm away and let my elbow rest on my knee. “It’s fine,” I say, my tone ragged.

“Let me see,” Leah says firmly. This time, I don’t resist, and she flips my hand over.

“Tell Grady I’m sorry about the hole in the wall.” I peer down. Blood has seeped through the fabric. “And the sock… I’m sorry about your sock.”

She studies me apprehensively while gingerly unwrapping the sock.

Jagged gashes score my knuckles. Pieces of milk-white plaster stick out from the wound, but the bleeding has stopped.

She rummages through her makeup bag and finds some tweezers. “First, I’ll remove these pieces of plaster. Then I’ll see what first-aid supplies Grady has. We might be forced to use paper towel and duct tape.” She attempts a grin.

As she removes each pointy sliver, her eyes widen. My skin begins knitting itself together. She puts on a brave face and continues to pick out the fragments.

“I heal quickly.”

“I see that,” she says nonchalantly, keeping her eyes hidden from my view behind her hair.

When all the remnants are removed, Leah sits as still as a stone, watching the remains of my wound vanish before her eyes.

“So, who was that on the phone?” she asks, trying to sound casual.

I’m quiet.

“You promised, you know. No more secrets.” Leah’s unyielding gaze trains on my face.