My Soul to Steal

by Rachel Vincent

  “She’s a predator, Kaylee. She can’t help that, and you can’t change it. She has to eat something.”

  “You mean someone,” I snapped, and Nash nodded, unfazed by my blunt phrasing. “But it doesn’t have to be classmates, right? Why can’t she eat bad guys? You know, feed from criminals. She could power up and serve society at the same time.”

  Nash laughed, and I gritted my teeth in irritation. He’d taken me seriously before she’d shown up, hadn’t he? “Great idea, Kay. How would you suggest she identify these bad guys?”

  “I’m thinking jail would be a good place to start.” She’d probably feel right at home there. “Or Fort Worth gang territories. It can’t be too hard to find someone worth scaring the crap out of, either way.”

  Nash’s expression went hard. “I’m not going to tell her to drive downtown by herself in the middle of the night, to look for someone who deserves to be eaten in his sleep! She could get killed.”

  “But what about that whole astral projection thing? If she doesn’t have a physical presence, she can’t be hurt, right?”

  “What do you want her to do, walk her astral self twenty miles and back? She can’t fly, even when she’s Sleepwalking. Plus, there’s a limit to how far her astral form can wander from her actual body, so she’d still be in physical danger.”

  “Nash, she’s a walking Nightmare. She’s probably the scariest thing out there, even in the middle of the night.”

  “That doesn’t make her bulletproof!” He ran one hand through his hair and leaned back against the wall, obviously frustrated. “Look, I don’t expect you two to braid each other’s hair and share lip gloss, but you sound like you’re trying to get her killed!”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the wall next to the water fountain. “I don’t want her dead, I swear.” Though I might not object to a light maiming…

  But if she poked one more metaphysical finger into my dreams, I’d probably be singing a different tune.

  “Good. Because no matter how tough she talks, she’s really not that different from anyone else here.” His wide-armed gesture took in the whole school.

  “Yeah. Except for that whole creep-into-your-dreams-and-ruin-your-life angle.”

  Nash studied me, like he was weighing some options I didn’t understand. “You know how you got creeped out just from looking at her a couple of times?”

  “Like I’m gonna forget.”

  “She did that on purpose, because she’s threatened by you. But she used to have no control over it. Until she learned to quit dripping creepy vibes like a leaky faucet, everyone she ever met had the same reaction to her. Her parents left her on the front steps of some big church in Dallas when she was a toddler. She’d creeped out twelve sets of foster parents before she was fourteen. And she’s literally never had a friend, other than me. All because she was born a mara.”

  I blinked, confused. “Wait, why would her parents give her up? Weren’t they maras, too?”

  Nash shook his head, but didn’t explain until a throng of girls in matching green–and-white letter jackets crossed between us and into the bathroom.

  “It’s different for maras than it is for us. They are always born to human families. Every seventh daughter of a seventh daughter is a Nightmare, and so is her life, until she figures out what she is and how to feed herself without driving off the rest of humanity. What do you think your life would have been like without your family? Or Emma?”

  I didn’t even want to imagine it. “Fine. I get it. She’s had it rough. But that’s all in the past. She can control herself now, so if she chooses not to, the consequences are all hers.” And those consequences would include whatever happened when she eventually pushed me past my limit.

  “I agree,” Nash conceded, pulling his bag higher on his shoulder. “But I’m not going to send her to jail or to inner-city Fort Worth to feed. She doesn’t deserve to get hurt just because you don’t like what she eats.” After another moment’s hesitation, he exhaled and shrugged, like our argument wasn’t worth fighting anymore. “It’s not like she’s hurting anyone. She’d never take too much.”

  My inner alarm flared to life inside my head, like a warbling siren. “Too much? What happens if she takes too much?”

  “Kaylee, she’s not going to…”

  “What happens, Nash?” I demanded, stepping closer as the girls jostled their way out of the bathroom and into the hall.

  “Not that Sabine’s ever done this, but taking too much during a nightmare can leave the sleeper sick, unconscious, or…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.

  “Dead?” Chill bumps popped up on my arms at the memory of the dreams she’d woven for me.

  Nash nodded. “But Sabine wouldn’t…”

  “So you keep saying. But if you’re so sure she’s not dangerous, how come I don’t see you offering up your dreams to keep her sated?”

  Nash’s irises exploded into motion, and his brows rose. “I could do that…” he began. “But I didn’t think you’d want Sabine—even her astral form—straddling me in my sleep, literally riding my dreams.”

  Damn it. My cheeks flamed. But I couldn’t help being a little relieved by the fact that he hadn’t let that happen.

  “Fine. Then let’s find her something more appropriate to eat. Okay?”

  He shrugged. “At least that’ll give us something to do, other than think about what we can’t have.”

  I was confused for a moment, until his meaning sank in. “By ‘us,’ you mean you and Sabine, not you and me, don’t you?” Of course he did. I’d just given them another reason to be together. Maybe I should have just let her snack on my cousin’s dance team.

  “Kaylee, no matter what she thinks she wants from me, what she needs is a friend.” Traffic had picked up in the hallway, a sure sign the warning bell would soon ring. “You’ll just have to believe me when I say her problems are bigger than a bitchy cousin, an absentee dad, and a species identity crisis.”

  I blinked and felt my face flame.

  “I’m sorry…” Nash said, before I could recover from shock enough to even think about responding. “But the truth is that you’ve got it pretty good right now. Good grades, good friends, a decent place to live, and a dad who loves you so much he hardly wants to let you out of his sight. Sabine doesn’t have any of that, and I don’t have…” He swallowed, then met my gaze and continued. “I don’t have you, and without you, it feels like what I do have doesn’t matter.”

  The sudden sentimentality and the yearning clear in his eyes threw me off and dampened my anger. I didn’t know how to respond. “I miss you, too,” I said finally, and the swirling in his irises became frantic at my admission.

  And suddenly we were talking about us.

  “Then what’s wrong?” Nash asked, trying to read the answer in my eyes.

  “I just… I can’t help thinking about how much she must mean to you, for you to go through so much trouble for her.”

  Nash let his bag slide to the floor and stepped close to me. I could feel the delicious heat from his body and had to look up to see the urgent swirling in his eyes.

  “I love you, Kaylee. Nothing’s going to change that, including Sabine. But she does mean a lot to me—as a friend I thought I’d lost. Sabine and I have a history we can’t just erase, and I’m not going to drop her, like everyone else in her life has done. I don’t want to drop her, because when she looks at me, she doesn’t see an addict or a football player, or any of the other labels people keep trying to stick me with. She sees me. She sees what I was before, and she knows I’m trying, and that’s enough for her. I really need someone who’s okay with me the way I am right now, Kay, and I know that can’t be you. So why can’t you let it be her?”

  I didn’t want to answer. I wanted to be able to give him what he wanted—what he needed—to get through this and get back to the person he’d been when we’d met. But it wasn’t that simple.

  “Because you’ll never
see her coming, Nash. You think you know her, but you don’t know how far she’ll go to get what she wants, because back when you knew her, she didn’t have to chase you. She already had you. But now she has to work for what she wants, and she’s really good.” That was obvious, based on the fact that she’d seamlessly sewn herself back into his life and he’d accepted her like she’d never been gone.

  “You’ll just be sitting there one day, alone with her, talking about someplace you went back in the day, and the next thing you know it, you’ll be looking into each other’s eyes, and it’ll feel just like it used to. She’ll kiss you—or maybe you’ll kiss her—and it’ll feel so good and familiar you won’t even remember that you should stop it. So you won’t. And then she’ll have you, and I’ll have lost you, all because I did the right thing, and she was willing to play dirty.”

  Nash shook his head slowly. “That’s not going to happen, Kaylee. I wish you’d let me show you.” He leaned into me, watching me so closely he seemed to see right through my eyes and into my soul.

  He bent toward me, and my lips parted, my heart and body ready to take him back right then, even while my mind screamed in protest of abandoned logic.

  My pulse raced, and his lips touched mine, just the slightest warm contact. Then a familiar voice at my back drenched our rediscovered heat with an auditory bucket of ice water.

  “Well, this looks promising!”

  I jerked away from Nash and turned to find Emma watching us both, her Cheshire cat grin firmly in place. “It was,” Nash mumbled, retrieving his bag from the floor.

  “Yeah, well, timing is everything, and Coach Tucker is standing right over there, waiting to bust you for the public display. I just saved you both from detention.”

  I glanced over her shoulder to see that she was right. The girls’ softball coach stood in the doorway across the hall, pink detention pad ready and waiting.

  “And…” Em continued, thrusting a thick, worn textbook at me. “I brought you this.”

  I took my Algebra II book from her, frowning. “Why…?”

  She shrugged, looking smug. “I noticed your heart-to-heart, so I stopped by your locker on the way to mine. I had a feeling you wouldn’t be done in time to get your books.”

  Emma and I had known each other’s locker combinations since our freshmen year. Just for occasions like this. “And I was right,” she added, when the warning bell shrieked from the end of the hall.

  In the event of a power outage, her smile could have powered the entire school for a week.

  “Thanks, Em.”

  “You can thank me later by translating our French homework.”

  “No problem,” I said, my heart still beating too hard over the almost-kiss, and the possibility it hinted at. “I better go. See you at lunch?”

  Emma and Nash both nodded, and I took off toward first period algebra, while they headed in the opposite direction. Emma got to skip class that morning to meet with the guidance counselor, who wanted to make sure she was still okay, following Doug’s death. Thanks to a call from her mom.

  But I’d only gone a few feet when Sabine fell into step beside me in a snug polo, ratty jeans, and scuffed-up Converses. On the surface, she was even less Nash’s type than I was—at least, Nash as he was known at Eastlake; I didn’t know what he’d been like in Fort Worth—but he didn’t seem to care. It probably didn’t hurt that she was hot no matter what she wore. Sabine’s look was overtly gearhead/gamer/troublemaker, but because she owned it, it worked for her.

  Despite being new in the middle of her senior year and having no friends to speak of, Sabine had confidence and self-assurance I could only dream about. And that was just one more entry on my ever-growing list of reasons to dislike the mara.

  “What do you want?” I walked faster, after a quick glance to make sure she wasn’t armed. Her dark eyes creeped me out, even more so than before, now that I knew what she really was.

  “You’ve got balls,” she said, instead of answering my question, then launched into a high-pitched impersonation of me. “‘Sabine, get the hell out of my room! Stay away from Nash, or I’ll make you homesick for prison!’” she taunted, while I ground my teeth and stomped even faster through the hall. “That’s some funny shit! Especially while you’re still sitting in sweat-soaked sheets, heart racing from one hell of a nightmare. Though for the record, I was never in prison. The state detention center, halfway houses, and foster homes, sure. But never prison. What do you think I am, a hardened criminal?”

  “Go away.”

  Sabine laughed. “I don’t think you’re truly getting into the spirit of this rivalry.”

  “This is not a rivalry. It’s your own sad little delusion,” I snapped, turning the corner so sharply my foot almost slipped out from under me.

  When I paused to regain my balance, Sabine spun around to stand in front of me, one hand on the wall, effectively blocking my path. She smiled, but her eyes were even darker than usual, the fear they reflected as black as a starless night.

  My hand clenched around the strap of my backpack, the other clutching my math book while Sabine leaned in so close her nose almost brushed my cheek. I held my breath, not sure what she was doing. Not sure what I should do.

  “I’m not into girls, Kaylee,” she whispered, her breath warm on my cheek. “But if I were, I think you’d be my type.”

  My breath froze in my throat, and she laughed, stepping back where I could see her whole face. “I’m starting to see why Nash wanted you. You got a backbone buried in there somewhere.” She stepped back again and eyed me from head to toe, like a boxer assessing his opponent. “But if you don’t loosen up, you’re never gonna uncover enough of it in time.”

  “He doesn’t love you,” I said through gritted teeth, determined to maintain eye contact, even though that was about as comfortable as holding a jagged chunk of ice in the palm of my hand.

  “I know.” Sabine shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. “But he wants me, and that’s the first step, and there’s nothing you can do about that. Know why?”

  I didn’t respond, so she answered her own question. “Because you’re scared. You’re one big ball of fear, wrapped inside a skinny, uptight little body you’re not willing to share. But I won’t hold back. I’ll give him everything, Kaylee.” Her gaze burned into mine. “Everything you’re afraid to let him have.”

  My fingers twitched around my book. “Sounds like you already have,” I spat, and she grinned, like making me talk was some kind of victory.

  “I’m not talking about sex, though that offer’s definitely on the table.” Her eyes flashed with anticipation, and I hated her just a little more. “I’m talking about my heart, Kaylee. As cheesy as it sounds, I’m willing to give him my heart—everything I am and everything I have—and you’re not. You’re too scared to trust him, and you can’t really love someone you don’t trust. So if you care about him at all, you’ll let him go, before you screw him up for good.”

  I forced myself to breathe slowly and evenly, to keep her from seeing how her words affected me. How scared I was—deep down—that she was right.

  “You can’t scare me away from him.” I could see my algebra classroom over her shoulder, the door open, the new sub standing next to it, eyeing the stragglers in the hallway.

  Sabine laughed and long dark hair fell over her shoulder. “Yeah, I can. But I don’t think I’ll have to. I think your conscience is gonna do most of the work for me, because you do care about Nash, and when you’re brave enough to be honest with yourself, I think you’ll understand that you’re not what he needs.”

  I ground my teeth together, then unclenched my jaw. I didn’t want to ask—didn’t want to be drawn into her little mind game—but I had to know. “What is it you think he needs?”

  Another shrug. “Someone who wants him as he is. Flaws and all. And that’s never gonna be you. You’re not ready to take him back, but you can’t let him go. You’re afraid to be with him, and you’re afr
aid to be without him. You’re paralyzed with fear, and it’s eating you up on the inside and killing whatever you had with Nash.”

  “You got all that from my dream?”

  “I got that from your eyes. Well, that, and a little peek into your darkest fears. But it’s not like you keep those hidden.”

  “You don’t even know me….”

  Sabine laughed again, and I was starting to truly hate the sound. “I know you better than you know yourself. I can see the things you keep buried. The secrets you hide even from your conscious mind. And even if I couldn’t, I know your type.”

  I glared at her, eyes narrowed until I could see nothing else. “I am not a type.” Why was I still talking to her? I should have just walked away, but I couldn’t help myself. Nash saw something in her. Something he liked. Something he’d once loved—and I wanted to know what that was.

  “Oh, you’re definitely a type. Self-righteous, like you’ve never done anything wrong and that gives you the right to point out everyone else’s mistakes. You do what it takes to fit in, but not enough to get noticed, because you’re afraid of scrutiny and because you think you’re above the high school social scene. And frankly, you and I have that last bit in common.”

  I glanced around, hoping no one was close enough to hear her, and was relieved to find the hall nearly empty. “You’re obviously a virgin,” Sabine continued, as I stood there, mortified, but unwilling to walk away because some part of me needed to hear this. Needed to hear what she thought of me. What she’d probably been saying about me to Nash. “And you think that makes you pure, but what it really makes you is uptight and scared. You won’t admit it, but you think about sex. A lot. But you’re not gonna do it, because then you wouldn’t be special. You think your virginity is some kind of satin-wrapped, halo-topped gift that, someday, some perfect prince will be honored to receive. But you don’t get it, and no one’s had the heart to explain it to you yet. Fortunately for you, I’m full of heart today. So here’s the truth: sex isn’t a gift you give Mr. Right in exchange for ‘forever’ and a white dress. You’re selling yourself short and making us all look bad with that kind of naiveté. Sex isn’t something you do for him. It’s something you do for yourself.”