Awaken the Soul

by Michele G Miller

  His back to me, he rubs his neck with an exhale as he leans forward and rests his forehead against the door. His hunter green thermal clings to his shoulders and back, and I stare, searching for the wings I now remember. He twists around, remaining against the door, his mouth tight as he shoves his hands into his pockets.

  “Why?”

  “Are you okay?”

  I snort at his insane question. “Am I okay? Where should I start?” Breckin’s mouth opens, and I forge ahead. “We kissed. I thought it meant something, but you erased my memory—”

  “Vivie?”

  I look past the tenderness in his eyes and continue. “I mean, I suppose that’s no different than not getting a call back after a date, right? If you were human, I guess that’s what this would be—a one-time, never speak to me again hookup. One could argue you were doing me a favor. Taking away my memories is nicer than letting me linger over what happened.”

  “That’s not what happened.” Anger flashes across his face as he steps away from the door.

  I move, kicking a mop bucket of dirty water. “No? How often do you do this anyway? No wonder I’ve never heard tales of you with girls. Do you erase every idiot’s mind once you have a taste?”

  His snarl, purely angelic, scares the hair straight up on my neck. “Vivienne.” He grabs my arms, and my back bumps into the shelves stocked with toilet paper and paper towels. Two rolls fall to the floor as Breckin presses close. “You are not an idiot, and I didn’t erase your memories. Didn’t you hear me Saturday night when I told you I was staking my claim? Yesterday was hell for me. And this morning—” His hands move to my face, holding me tight as his forehead touches mine. “When I heard about the accident, it took all my strength to stay away. I figured it would seem odd if I showed up.”

  My hurt evaporates with his words. I grip his wrists. “I’m not supposed to remember you, am I?”

  “You’re not.” Although his voice is serious, his lips tug into a smile.

  “Who erased my memory, Breck?”

  His mouth opens, then closes as he chooses his words. “Another angel.”

  “The one you spoke to the other night?” He nods. “Why?”

  “Because if we’re not careful, this will become about more than a reaper.”

  My Immortal

  Breckin

  Uncertainty clouds Vivienne’s eyes as my words sink in. This is insane. I’m torn by the return of her memories. I want to take her mouth right here in this closet and drink her in until kissing her erases the fear that buried me this morning when I heard about the accident. At the same time, I want to rage at my angelic abilities until I figure out why they don’t work on her. Why does she remember?

  Her exhale teases across my face as her hands wrap around my waist. “I don’t want to forget, Breck.”

  The panic in her blue eyes infuriates my protective side. My hand slips around her neck and tucks her head under my chin. “We’re trying to keep you safe.”

  “From the reaper?”

  “Among other things,” I say vaguely. “And his name is Sebastian, by the way.”

  She pulls back. “He has a name? How do you know it?”

  Might as well tell her what I know, but not here. Not now. I brush her hair back with a smile. “I’d rather not have this conversation in a janitor’s closet at school.”

  “After school, then? Will you tell me everything?”

  Everything I can, I say in my head as I nod.

  The day drags, and not seeing Vivienne after we part doesn’t help. Her messages do, though. She texts me little tidbits about each of her classes, which keeps my brain from exploding with worry until, at last, the day ends.

  She blew off my request to meet at her locker, saying she knew where I parked. It bruised my ego, her not wanting me to wait for her. So here I am, leaning against my Bronco and waiting, somewhat impatiently, for her to come to me. The moment her voice cuts across the noise and reaches me, my muscles relax. Cars, music, and hundreds of students crowd out of the building, yet her voice stands out among them all. My soul breathes a sigh of relief. She’s surrounded by friends, a warm interested smile on her face as she listens to Macy Blackstone talk about her weekend. Macy’s a witch hunter. How would Vivienne react if she knew? What would she think if she knew about the shifters, vampires, and mages who control much of this town? There’s so much she doesn’t know, so much I can’t tell her.

  Macy leaves with a wave, and Vivienne scans the lot. A spark ignites within, like the flick of a match, when her blue eyes find me. This girl consumes me. My soul tugs like it would rip itself from my body to reach her side.

  My soul?

  Vivienne toys with a strand of hair, twirling it as she smiles and nods at her friends, while her eyes remain locked on mine. I straighten and move around the hood. I need her to come over here. Now.

  At my movement, she steps down from the curb. “I better go,” she says over her shoulder.

  “You’re not riding home with Zara?” asks Scarlet.

  Vivienne hesitates, her steps slowing as mine quicken. Spinning her back to me, she answers, “No. I’m . . . um, I’ve got another ride today.”

  I catch the confused look on their faces. Vivienne rides with Zara every day. We don’t have to be friends for me to know this. It’s a small school, a small town. Everyone knows. The same way everyone knows Zara drops her off, then heads to Napoli’s, where she does her homework, eats, then works the dinner shift until ten.

  Gazes shift between Vivienne and me. “With who?”

  “Me,” I answer for her.

  Vivienne twirls, finding me standing in front of her. I don’t watch her friends, but I imagine their faces are about as stunned as Vivienne’s.

  “Hey,” she says breathlessly, her lips curving into a deliciously shy smile.

  “Hey, yourself.” I draw her backpack from her shoulder and swing it onto mine. “You ready?”

  Her face flushes as I slip her hand into mine.

  “They’re staring, aren’t they?” Vivienne asks when I look back.

  “They’re not the only ones.” Half the departing students track us by the time I open the passenger door.

  Vivienne’s hand goes to her hair, twirling again as she tugs the other from my grip. “Great. What are we going to tell people?”

  I toy with the zipper on her jacket, my need to be close growing by the second. “Tell them we’re going out.”

  Vivienne’s head falls back, her shout of laughter taking me by surprise. Inside, my soul growls, ordering my hand to take hers again. It’s damn needy today.

  She makes a face. “Like they’ll believe that.”

  She’s right, though not because people wouldn’t believe I’m attracted to her. She’s beyond beautiful. She has plenty of admirers, but I’ve never been on that list. I’ve never been one to single out any girl. I go to parties, hang out, and flirt, but holding hands and making a public declaration? I’ve never done that.

  My fingers curl around her wrist, pulling her hand from her hair and using it to draw her closer. Her lips part, and I take advantage, capturing them in a quick kiss.

  “Now they will,” I say as I pull away. I look around. Sure enough, we’ve made a scene.

  “No,” Vivienne whispers as her fingers take my chin and bring my attention back. She slides her hand down around my neck, applying pressure and drawing me to her mouth. “Let’s be sure they get the picture.”

  Her words awaken the need I have for her. Her scent—the deeper underlying scent of her soul—fills my head, and I’m drunk on her. She tempts my human soul and fires up the angel within. She wants me as much as I want her. Whatever this is between us, it is not one-sided. We’re so connected, I meet her lips move for move. She shifts right; I shift left. She sucks my bottom lip; I tighten my grip and bite hers. We’re lost in each other, in the middle of the school parking lot.

  “I think that’ll do it.” I chuckle at the gawkers pointing and whispering, wh
en we manage to separate. Vivienne releases a giggle in her throat and heaven help me, my desire builds again. Swallowing hard, I move from the open car door. “Let’s go to my house.”

  With an apologetic grin on her face, she waves to her friends as I close her door. Once I’m in the vehicle and buckled, I turn in my seat. “I’m sorry if that was out of line.”

  Vivienne’s face scrunches. “Kissing me?”

  “Yeah. In front of your friends and all. I couldn’t help myself.”

  She bites her lip, her eyes flicking to her lap. “I know the feeling. The moment I spotted you, I had this ridiculous desire to run across the parking lot. Is there something about your angelic heritage that lures women in?”

  My hand slides across the seat and finds hers. “Have I lured you in?”

  “That would be crazy, right? I can’t be falling for you, Breck, I know nothing about you.”

  “You know the most important thing about me,” I counter, interlacing our fingers.

  She scowls, although it’s ruined by the smirk that follows immediately after. “I meant, the things couples share when they’re falling in love. Your favorite foods, movies, music. The normal things.”

  It’s my turn to scowl. I shake free from her hand and start the car. “Right. ’Cause being part angel is definitely not normal.”

  Shifting into gear, I grip the steering wheel as an odd mix of emotions flows through me. She isn’t rejecting me. She kissed the hell out of me two minutes ago, for everyone to see. So why am I let down by her comments on love? Why the hell am I acting like a girl? Get your crap together, Breckin.

  “No,” she says after a long moment of silence. “Being angel is not normal, but neither is falling for one.”

  “But, you just said—”

  “I’m falling for you, Breck. It’s not reasonable, and it makes no sense, but I know it like I know my own name. I know it here.” She taps her chest.

  Her soul.

  With my foot firmly on the brake, I lean across the cab and kiss her hard. “Vivie,” I say against her lips, my hand gripping the back of her head. “I feel it, too.”

  Her hand touches my cheek as she pulls away. “That’s why the reaper wants me, isn’t it?”

  I still.

  “He sensed your feelings, he said he would take my soul away from you, he told me not to let you taint it.”

  She’s right.

  Our bond is through our souls. Soul mates. It makes perfect sense.

  And it’s exactly the type of thing that would drive a reaper crazy with power.

  I hold her gaze. “It doesn’t matter what he wants. He’s not getting it.”

  “You sound so confident.”

  “I’m an angel, Vivie.” She cracks a smile. It’s small, but it’s there, and it lights up the dark corners of my being, and breathes life into me. She’s changing me with every look, touch, and smile. I’m hers. “Tell me about this morning.”

  My hand holds hers all the way home as she explains what happened with Zara and the reaper, Sebastian.

  “And you’re sure it was him? You said you had no memories before you saw me in chemistry.” I turn onto Fairchild and pull directly into our drive, waiting as the garage door opens.

  “I’m certain. When I saw him, I had this immediate reaction. I didn’t have to know why I knew him, there was just something off. Something that made me wary. And after—” She doesn’t finish. She shakes, like she’s working a shiver through her body.

  We pull into the garage, and I cut the engine. I pump her hand in mine as she reaches for the door. “Wait. Stay there.”

  Hurrying around the Bronco, I make sure the garage door closes all the way before opening her door and extending my hand.

  “You’re a gentleman? Who knew?” She teases as she jumps down from the jacked-up seat with an “umph.”

  “I’ll find you a stool.”

  Her fist connects with my abs, then flattens, rubbing where the punch landed when I grunt. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard.”

  “Aw, you’re cute, tiny girl. You think your little baby punch hurt me?”

  Her palms slap at my stomach, pushing, as she walks around me. “You know there is such a thing as being too cocky.”

  “Not for an angel.” I wrap her in a bear hug from behind, inhaling her scent. Intoxicating. She melts into me, her back molding with my chest until we’re one.

  She sighs and hooks her hands around my forearms. “I’m scared.”

  “I know you are.” As if I can infuse her with my courage, I squeeze tighter. “I won’t let anything happen to you. He can’t kill you, it’s against the rules.” Then again, he isn’t playing by the rules anymore.

  She turns, her eyes skeptical. “What about today?”

  “He wanted to scare you. Or me. Sebastian is playing a dangerous game.” One that will end with him ceasing to exist if he threatens Vivienne again.

  “This is too much. I don’t think I can deal with this. Maybe I don’t want my memories, maybe I—”

  “It’s too late.” I clasp her to my chest. “Memories or not, he knows who you are and what you are to me. He’s not going to stop.”

  “So what do we do?”

  Hunt Sebastian down and end him. Vivienne’s fear prevents me from saying the words. “We go inside. We take an hour to eat and think about anything other than Sebastian. Then, we call my uncle.”

  I head for the door, but her hand yanks me back when she doesn’t follow. “Breck?” Her fingers tighten around my hand. “What am I to you?”

  My eyes scan the frailty of her. This delicately beautiful slip of a girl who claimed my soul and is taking possession of my heart.

  “My soul mate.”

  Someone to You

  Vivienne

  “You have an uncle?”

  I follow Breckin into the house, and this time we stay on the main floor. He points to the stools sitting at the kitchen counter, telling me to have a seat as he raids the refrigerator. Seriously? He throws words like soul mate around, then drags me into his million-dollar kitchen and offers me a snack? How did this become my life?

  Soul mate. My mind refuses to process his words. I’m numb.

  “Sort of. We’re not related, but he’s the closest thing I have to family.”

  “Is he the one who erased my memories Saturday night?”

  A jar of nacho cheese slides across the pristine marble counter as he shuts the refrigerator. “Yeah.” He moves to a pantry the size of my bedroom and grabs a bag of chips.

  “And what does he think of all this?” I prod, when he doesn’t elaborate.

  “Chip?” He pops the lid from the jar, dipping a blue corn chip into the sauce.

  “Breck?”

  “Vivie?” His brow arches. I force back a reply at his flippant tone.

  “What does your uncle think of this?” I wave a hand between us.

  “You can ask him when he arrives.” He stretches across the counter and holds a chip out. “Eat.”

  “Did you just order me to eat?” I bristle, taking the chip without thought.

  “Order is a strong word.” He dips another. “I asked.”

  I cross my legs and square my shoulders, taking a breath. “You most certainly did not ask.”

  The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Are you mad at me for trying to make you eat something?”

  The chip he handed me drops to the counter, the glob of fake cheese smearing yellow across the gorgeous white. “I’m mad at you for ignoring my questions and yes, for trying to make me eat.”

  “You’re not hungry?”

  “Oh my gosh. That is not the point, Breckin.”

  My flustered outburst is met with a flirtatious grin. It takes all my willpower to remain across the four-foot kitchen island from him. This boy makes me crazy.

  Exasperated, I lean back. “Do you always get what you want?”

  “Yes.” There’s no shame in his answer. I clamp my jaw.

 
My weak soul dances at his cockiness as my independent mind theorizes ways to knock him off his high horse. As though he knows exactly what I’m thinking, he smiles and tilts his head, his amber-flecked eyes pinning me to my seat. His intense gaze sends heat creeping up my neck. I wipe my palms on my thighs as Breckin’s entire face transforms. A tight mask of concentration takes over as he straightens his back and breathes with precision—his chest rising and falling slowly.

  Something teases across my mind, and I jerk back, gasping for air.

  Breckin blinks, his face relaxing as a small scowl appears.

  I grip the counter and watch him closely as the feeling withdraws. “What did you just do?”

  His scowl deepens.

  “What did you do, Breckin?” My stool clatters back as I stand. Fists form at my sides.

  Breckin wipes at his forehead with a curse. “I’m sorry.”

  He hurries around the counter, and I step back, unnerved by his actions. His face falls.

  “Vivie?” Breckin lifts his hands in a silent plea for forgiveness. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I was trying to use compulsion. I never—”

  “Compulsion? To make me eat?” I spit the words at him.

  “You argued with me.”

  That’s his excuse? “I’m sorry? I argued with you?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, it is, but—” He scratches his head. “I wanted you to eat. You were arguing, and it made me wonder if I could—”

  “Oh. My.” Swallowing, I groan and walk away, needing space. Halfway across the kitchen, I turn back. “You arrogant angel. You think you can order me to eat and sit and stay. That I won’t ask questions? Do you want me to blush and giggle while following you around like the other girls do?”

  Breckin’s shoulders shake as his lips quirk.

  “Are you laughing at me?” I ask, the urge to punch him strong.