His smile widened. “For you.”
Her eyes could no longer hold the collection of tears and they streamed down her face. “I don’t want you to fall.”
“It’s my choice,” he said softly.
Angry, she wanted to slap him upside the head for making such an irreversible choice when she couldn’t return his feelings. Take all of her krav maga training and knock some sense into him. “It’s a stupid choice,” she cried out.
His smile turned smug, and he chuckled. “Not to me, it’s not.”
Despite her tears, Grace chuckled back.
They sat quietly until Grace’s tears dried. “I’m not worth falling for,” she whispered.
Quentin’s shorts rustled as he moved across the floor closer to Grace. He kept his hands in view and kept them to himself. “To me you are,” he whispered back.
Staring back at him, she moved her head back and forth slightly. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
He inched closer. The skin around his hands was pulled tight as he struggled to keep them to himself. Her hands twitched for the same reason. “I’ve never been more sure of anything. You’re so beautiful and amazing.”
Grace let out a shaky laugh. “Whatever.”
“Pfft,” Quentin scoffed. “Do you want a list, because I can give you one.”
Out of habit, she shrugged a shoulder.
Quentin held his hand up, bending each finger down as he spoke. “When you knew how your family felt about your grandfather, you kept it to yourself, because you didn’t want him to hurt. You held on to that your entire life. You took care of your mother growing up, knowing how sad and lonely she was, not caring about what you needed from her. The night of the accident, all I could think about was getting you out of there. All you thought of was going back despite the danger to help your friends. Look at how you’ve accepted your dad back into the picture, or how you’ve taken care of Amanda. I can go on, the list is endless.”
Grace managed to smile through the tears that snuck up on her for the umpteenth time that night, and her cheeks warmed from embarrassment. “Okay, I am pretty amazing.” She didn’t believe it, but it was still funny to say. They both laughed, but then another thought struck her. “If you become Fallen, does that mean you have to hunt me?” Actually, the thought caused bile to rise in the back of her throat. She even gagged a little.
Quentin cocked his head sideways. “Why would you even think to ask me that?”
“The rest of the Fallen do.”
The intensity of his gaze heated Grace from the inside. “I would still protect you.”
His answer turned the outer edges of her frown up as she let her gaze fall to the floor. A rush of heat coursed through her body, warming her from head to toe. No doubt her face was burning red. It would be tricky getting through her questions if he continued to talk like that. “If the Fallen are sent to hurt me to get Pandora, then why is Darius here?”
Grace knew the instant his anger spiked, the force of which pushed against her. His anger didn’t frighten her. She knew it wasn’t toward her. “He’s not a hunter. He’s not here for Pandora.”
Grace did not like the sound of that. “Then what’s he here for?”
Quentin answered her matter-of-factly. “He’s a Soul Keeper. He’s here for your soul.”
Oh, is that all? whipped through her mind.
A violent shudder wracked Grace’s body as she sat a while later with Quentin in the family room. She shivered uncontrollably, and sitting by the fire wrapped in a blanket did little, if anything, to help. She was never going to get used to any of this. The childhood prayer danced teasingly across her mind: “If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” It wouldn’t stop.
The prayer made sense, considering.
Neurotically, Grace chewed on her thumbnail, and talked around the sore nub. “He literally wants my soul?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t let him have it.”
Grace chortled. “Like I was going to just hand it over.” Quentin said something, but she couldn’t hear it through her head noise.
Her mind kept flashing back to how sweet and thoughtful Darius had been, which had her feeling more stupid than before. And to think, at first she worried he might want only one thing. Oh, he wanted something alright, just not that. The memories fueled the embers from her earlier anger.
She continued rocking back and forth, eying the empty cans of Red Bull lined up like energizing soldiers on the coffee table. Her gaze moved to each one, counting them off; one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four. After Quentin explained how Darius could get to her through her dreams, she started pounding them down, remembering the surreal quality of the dream-time she’d spent with Darius. They made her more nervous, but she refused to let herself get tired. She tossed back the last swallow of another can, and added it to the line of its brothers.
“I wish you’d stop. I can feel if anything happens, and I’ll wake you up,” Quentin said from the seat next to her.
“No.” Her head bobbed from side to side like a bobblehead. “I’m not ready to face him, and I don’t know what I might say in my dream.”
The music from her cell made her jump, then freeze as still as a corpse. It was him. A picture of Darius holding blue wildflowers smiled up at her. She wanted to smash his face in. Quentin rescued the iPhone and pressed the Ignore button, placing it on its face when he put it back on the table. When it buzzed minutes later, she grabbed it before he could, and held both of her hands in the air. “It’s okay. The phone is safe.”
Quentin didn’t seem to believe her. He hovered over her, just in case.
Darius: How r u feeling? I wish I was there w/u.
Okay, so the phone wasn’t so safe.
Cursing her lack of Hulk abilities, she gave up trying to crush the phone in her hands, and stared at the words on the screen. Her heart stuttered a beat. Grace wanted to rip that part of her heart right out of her chest. It was no doubt the weakest link, the part guilty of letting him in.
Players had nothing on this guy; Darius took manipulation to a whole new level. All at once, she wanted to cry again. Holy Hannah, she needed to get a grip on her emotions. Her ups and downs were beginning to give herself whiplash; she could only imagine how they must be affecting Quentin. Sucking it up, she texted back.
Grace: Ive been better. Worse than earlier.
At least no one could accuse her of being a liar. Every word of her text was totally true.
Darius: Ah, im sorry angel face :(
If he kept it up, her phone would need to enter the witness protection program. She fought hard against the urge of tossing it at the closest wall.
Grace: Thnx. Eating then bed.
She still didn’t lie. Eventually, she’d be eating and going to bed. She didn’t say when, and she never mentioned sleeping.
Darius: K. Plz call or txt if u need me.
Yeah, right!
Grace: K.
The rest of the evening went by without incident. Quentin quietly lingered wherever Grace was. Amanda kept herself busy with chores and homework in other areas of the house for the rest of the night. She knew whatever was wrong was none of her business, and Grace’s earlier storming through the manor apparently convinced her to keep her distance. Grace was glad she didn’t pry, because she didn’t want to be added to the long list of liars that was accumulating. When Quentin brought her some of the takeout he’d ordered, Grace barely had the appetite for it, and played with the food more than she ate it.
When Laney got home, Grace turned off her bedroom light, hoping her mother would think she was sleeping. She was in no mood for talking.
Despite the arsenal of Red Bull, she couldn’t stay awake. Grace lost the war against sleep sometime after two a.m.
My soul to take…
Just like the ever-loyal servant, Grace’s alarm clock started screaming at her at six thirty a.m. She groaned loudly, and smacked it off the nightstand, but it k
ept wailing. Bent at the waist, she hung off the mattress, pulling the clock out from under her bed by the cord, and almost ripping the darn thing right out of the wall. With a deep breath, she got herself under control, then flicked the Off button.
No matter all the Red Bull she forced down, she’d fallen asleep anyway. It pissed her off. However, she was pretty sure she didn’t dream. If she had, she couldn’t remember it. That was good. She hoped.
A soft buzzing coming from the vicinity of her dresser pulled her from the warmth of her blankets. Gosh, her body was heavy. It was tough carrying herself across the floor. It felt like she’d gained twenty pounds overnight. Halfway to the dresser, the noise stopped. She wondered what it was, but wasn’t curious enough to keep hunting for it. Lethargically, she spun around to head back to bed, then paused—the buzzing was there again.
Grace stepped up to her dresser, because she could tell whatever was buzzing was somewhere inside. As she quickly pulled drawers out, the buzz got louder when she got to her sock drawer. Rifling through thousands of socks, she found her vibrating cell phone. What the…? Quentin had clearly worried about the safety of her phone.
It was Darius. A hammer would work. Grace shook her head, pushed the Ignore button, and checked her texts. All of them were from him … again.
Darius: Couldn’t sleep, thinkin of u.
Right. The time of the text was 1:21 a.m. He wasn’t sleeping, because she wasn’t. How sweet. Not.
Darius: R u feeling better?
Darius: I can bring u soup n ice cream.
A lump of emotion caught in her throat. She hated him. She wanted to hate him. For sure, she hated her traitorous heart. In a matter of hours, Quentin went from not caring to falling. And Darius from this super sweet, sigh-inducing boyfriend, to a heart-stomping soul crusher. Grace obviously needed to reevaluate her ability to make sound choices about the men in her life.
Grace: Lil better. Mite stay home again tho.
Darius: U want me to bring chicken soup n ice cream?
Grace swallowed hard to push the lump down, and sighed.
Grace: No. U shud stay away.
Far away.
Darius: K.
Like a railroad spike had just been hammered into her heart, she clutched at her shirt. She wanted to cry.
Grace handed Amanda the keys to the Shelby. “I might try to go to school a little later. Quentin can take me if I do.”
Amanda stared at her, seemingly straight through her, before giving her a tight hug. “I can get your homework if you need, just text me.” When Amanda pulled away, her eyes were sad. Grace didn’t move from her spot as Amanda walked away. Right as she was about to leave the family room, she turned back to Grace. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
Grace felt horrible, and looked at the floor next to Amanda, because she really couldn’t look her in the eye. She hated having to keep secrets. “Uh-huh.”
Laney was already at work, so after Amanda left, Grace and Quentin were alone. She contemplated asking more questions, but remembering the possible consequence of the last one she’d asked, kept her mouth shut.
Quentin plopped down on the couch next to her, bouncing her slightly. His chipper mood caused her eye to twitch. She wanted to sulk.
“So,” he said, clasping his hands in his lap. “What do you want to do today?”
That was easy. “Die,” she muttered.
He wasn’t so chipper now. His stare gouged a hole in the side of her head, but she kept her eyes straight ahead. “That’s not funny,” he said flatly.
“I’m not kidding.” Grabbing the remote from the table, she clicked robotically through the channels, one arm crossed over her middle. There wasn’t anything worth watching on the boob tube anyway. Grace clicked the TV back off, threw the remote on the cushion next to her, and got up. “I’m going to go get ready.”
“For what?” Quentin asked.
“School.” Quentin started to protest as he too got up from the couch, but she ignored him and walked to her room.
“I don’t think you should go today,” Quentin said from the driver’s seat, placing a light hand on her arm.
Grace grabbed the door handle, shrugging off his arm. “It’ll be fine.” His protests fell on deaf ears as she got out of the car. She needed something to get her mind off things. Friends and teachers were all she had left.
Warily she walked through the halls, hoping she didn’t make a mistake by being here. But walking down the halls made her edgy and every little noise, real or imagined, increased her unease. In her head she swore if any Fallen or Shadow Hounds showed up today, she’d give in and quit school altogether. Most kids couldn’t wait to get out of school. Here she was with the ultimate legitimate excuse, and she was fighting to stay in.
After checking in at the office, she walked to her locker to grab the books she needed. It was halfway through third period, Calculus. Even though Calculus was her favorite, she couldn’t focus. Turned out, school didn’t help like she hoped.
At lunch, she sat with her friends, but wasn’t really “there” with them. She was somewhere else, thinking about the Fallen, the Shadow Hounds, Quentin, and Darius. Her thoughts were so full she didn’t have any room left for an appetite. Instead of eating, she pushed her food around on the tray, much like the thoughts in her head. She figured the constant chatter of friends would take her mind partly off her life, that’s why she went to school. But her secret life lingered like a ghost, drawing her away.
“Hey.” In the back of her mind, she knew someone was talking. “Grace?” Zeke nudged her arm. Finally it registered that Zeke had asked her something. When she turned her eyes to his, his expression was full of concern. “Are you okay?”
“Huh?” Internally, she shook herself, and pushed more food around her plate. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I guess I’m still not feeling a hundred percent yet. What were you saying?”
He put a finger atop her moving hand, stilling it. “Maybe you should go home.”
Giving Zeke as much of her attention as she could, she smiled softly. “I’m fine, really.” Out of the corner of her eye, Grace saw Amanda watching her. She smiled at her too, but Amanda wasn’t buying it, Grace knew that. Amanda lifted an eyebrow, shook her head, and continued eating.
After school, Amanda said she had one more test she was going to go make up, and she’d be completely caught up. Grace’s chest swelled with pride. She was so proud of her. “Go ahead and take my car. I’ll call Quentin.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Amanda asked.
“Yeah, I just want to go home. See you later.”
“Okay,” Amanda said hesitantly.
Before pushing the school door open, Grace held her breath and said a quick prayer. She put all her focus on her senses before stepping out. Relief washed over her as nothing else alerted her senses. There was nothing there. In the distance was Quentin’s car. She let out a long breath. With her eyes on the ground, she walked down the sidewalk smiling to herself. For the time being, all was okay.
Absentmindedly she continued walking, kicking at small chunks of bark in her path. A shimmer of silver caught her attention, instantly crashing through her moment of relief. Parked several feet in front of her was the V-Max motorcycle quietly idling at the curb. Darius followed her with his eyes, his helmet resting in his lap. When their eyes met, the boyish grin she couldn’t get enough of spread across his face. That smile kicked her in the gut.
Foolishly, she wasn’t afraid. She was ticked off. The logical side of Grace argued against taking all of her training out on his face, or some other more vulnerable part of his body. As her eyes compressed tight into a fierce glare, she shot it at him, hoping he’d get hit with the message as she cut fast through the grass and ran to Quentin’s car.
“Grace!” Darius yelled. She didn’t stop, only moved faster.
Throwing herself into the passenger seat of the Jag, she tossed her backpack in the back. “Drive!” Quentin stared at her
for a second before twisting the key in the ignition and taking off.
Grace eased into the seat, putting her right elbow on the door and her face in her hand, nervously flicking her thumbnail with the other hand. She snapped her head up, craning her neck to find the source of the noisy rumbling coming up behind them. Her eyes went wide, and her palms coated with sweat. He was coming. A few seconds later, Darius was outside her window yelling. And he didn’t stop. She didn’t dare roll the window down or look out it again, and kept her eyes straight ahead.
Suddenly Grace was pulled to the left as Quentin jerked the car to the right. “What are you doing?”
Like a madman, Quentin kept his hands gripped tight around the steering wheel, manically dividing his focus between the road in front of him, and the man outside Grace’s window. He veered to the right again, and drove over the shoulder line. The threaded warning embedded in the pavement rattled her teeth. Grace’s nails clawed the dash, while she watched in horror as the back of Darius’ bike shimmied out of control behind them. “Stop! You’re going to kill him!” From the passenger seat, she smacked at Quentin wildly. “Stop the car!”
Quentin lifted his shoulder, shielding himself from Grace’s assault. “Relax, he’s fine. It’ll hurt like a bitch if he crashes, but it won’t kill him.” Hostage to her gripping emotions, Grace tried settling back in her seat. She continued looking over her shoulder and out the back window, worried Darius was lying in the road hurt. Or worse.
Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) Page 30
