by G. P. Ching
He’d moved in closer. While her eyes were closed, he’d stepped forward until the back of his hand brushed the bare skin above her elbow. The contact made her ache to close what little space was left between them. It stirred something deep within her. Every inch of her became super sensitive, her flesh reaching out for him, knowing he was the source of some unknown thrill.
A hot blush crept across her cheeks. She distracted herself by lifting her cup to her lips again, but it was empty. Had she drank it all so quickly?
“Can I get you a refill?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He lifted the cup from her grip, never breaking eye contact. “I’ll be back in a moment. Don’t move, Katrina Laudner.”
She didn’t. He slid gracefully between the gyrating students toward the back, giving her a delightful view of the taper of his hair down his neck, wide shoulders, and dark jeans that hugged the curve of his hips. She wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, if he asked her to stand there all night, she might comply.
A new song thumped from the speakers and the crowd went nuts, throbbing to the industrial rhythm. She joined in, arms reaching toward the ceiling.
“I like this music. What’s it called?” Cord was beside her again.
Startled, she stopped dancing. “Oh my God, you scared me. Shit, you were fast.”
Cord handed her the red cup, full now. “Do you know this music?” he asked.
“I think it’s from the nineties. Um, ‘Closer’ I think. Yeah, it’s called ‘Closer.’”
“I like it.”
She sipped her drink, aware that his purple eyes scanned every inch of her as if he were trying to see under her skin. Unnerved, she shifted away from him.
“Hey is this the same punch? It tastes different … like cinnamon or something.” Katrina took another sip and felt the burn travel all the way to her toes.
Cord shrugged. “Where are you from, Katrina?”
The room began to sway and she reached out a hand to steady herself against the wall. “Paris, I’m from Paris, Illinois.”
“Paris?”
“Yeah, I know. Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.”
“Oh, I like small towns. I’ve been meaning to visit Paris.”
“Really? Why?” A foggy weightlessness caused her to lurch forward.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I think I’ve had enough. I better quit while I’m still sober enough to find my way home.”
“That sounds ultimately responsible. Was I wrong about your reckless and wild ways?”
She laughed. “I have my moments.”
In front of her, his muscles shifted beneath the drape of his shirt. It was some kind of silky cotton, not too tight, not too loose. The gray fabric beckoned her to reach out and run her hand up his abs and across his chest. Thanks to the red cup, inhibition had packed its bags. On impulse, she rested her palm on his stomach. She swayed on her feet.
A hand caught her lower back. Cord pulled her into his body, effectively holding her up. Taller, he had to lower his chin to meet her eyes.
“You smell good,” was all she could manage. The room floated away. He was her tether to the Earth.
“May I walk you home, Katrina Laudner?”
There was no hesitation on her part. She wanted to fall into him, to press every part of herself up against his hard body. She wanted to cover herself in that delicious smell. “Sure, that would be nice.”
He reached for the now empty cup in her hand—when had she finished it?—and nested it inside his own before setting it on the floor near his feet. Something about the action bothered Katrina and she found herself staring at the cup. A headache bloomed at her temple.
“Are you going to leave that there? I mean, I could find a garbage can. It’s rude.” Her voice sounded muffled, like she was hearing herself through a thick wall of glass.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s okay just where it is.”
Katrina was normally obsessive about neatness. It bothered her that he wouldn’t pick up after himself. But at the moment, she had more pressing issues. “Whoa,” she said, weaving toward the door. “Whatever was in that drink went straight to my head.”
Cord half carried her through the crowd. Once they were out the door, the fresh air revived her. A moment of clarity came halfway across the deserted walkway of the quad.
“What was in that drink?” She shook her head and inhaled the crisp night air, stepping away from Cord, whose cologne suddenly seemed overpowering. Disoriented, she stumbled toward the gnarled trunk of an oak tree, planting her hand on the rough bark.
“Stay close to me, Katrina,” Cord said. “Girls shouldn’t walk alone. You never know who or what could be lurking in the shadows.”
Much clearer now, Katrina blinked her eyes and focused on Cord. In the lamplight, the black hair and purple eyes, so sensual at the party, looked menacing. The shadow of the tree she leaned against seemed to reach for him, like his presence was a magnet to the darkness. The silhouettes bowed and stretched, rippling under the illumination of the lamppost. Shadows weren’t supposed to bend that way. The air wasn’t supposed to ripple.
“I think I’m hallucinating,” she said from the harbor of the tree’s branches. “I think there was something other than alcohol in that drink.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head again. Had he drugged her? She’d heard of boys slipping things into girls’ drinks. Every college girl had. She was so stupid. What was she thinking, leaving the party with a stranger?
“Relax,” Cord said. His arm snaked behind her shoulders.
When had he moved so close to her? He’d closed the gap between the walkway and the tree in what seemed like the blink of an eye.
“Wait. I need to get home, Cord. I’m not feeling well.”
“Lie down right here, Katrina.” He lowered her slumping body to the grass.
Part of her wanted him. He smelled good. He felt good. But a larger part of her knew something was wrong. She’d been drugged, that was for sure. The hard, cold ground cut unevenly into her back.
“Wait,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Let’s go back to my dorm.”
With his arm still behind her shoulders, he leaned over her, his face hovering with the promise of a kiss. “No, Katrina,” he said. His purple gaze cut the darkness. “I want to talk to you. I want to know all about you. I want to be closer.”
From behind heavy lids, she tried to respond, but she was transfixed by the curve of his lips. She closed her eyes and tipped her chin, an invitation for him to finish what he started.
Nothing.
When she opened her eyes again, Cord was gone. She was lying next to the tree, the glow from the lamppost illuminating an empty walkway at her feet. She sat up, wondering if she’d hallucinated him all together. Man, what was in that drink?
On autopilot, she stood and walked back to her dorm. Her brain felt fuzzy. Exhausted, she let herself into her room and stumbled through the darkness toward her bed.
“Ohmygod, Katrina. I’ve been so worried about you!” Mallory said. Katrina heard a click and the soft glow of her roommate’s lamp made her blink. “First, I couldn’t find you at the party and then you weren’t here when I came home. Where the hell have you been?”
“What time is it?”
“Four in the morning.”
“Four? Really? Shit, I don’t know, Mallory. I think someone slipped something into my drink. I feel weird.”
“Into your drink? What, like a roofie? Are you okay? Do you need me to walk you to health services?”
Katrina thought about it for a minute. “No. I feel okay. I don’t think anything happened. I just need to sleep it off.”
“Well, the good news is it’s officially spring break, so you can sleep as long as you want.”
“Yeah, spring break. I’m supposed to go home to Paris tomorrow … I mean today, later. Hell, I’ve gotta get some sleep.”
Katrina didn’t bother to undress. She
slipped beneath the covers of her bed and closed her eyes. She was asleep before Mallory turned off the light.
Chapter 2
Work to Do
Malini Gupta was not the sort of girl who gave up easily. When she said she was going to do something, she did it. Despite being half past four on the Friday night of spring break, she concentrated on the task before her. She sliced through shiny pink foil with determined precision, ignoring the growing pain in her middle back. The floral knife Mr. Laudner had given her to use scraped across the stainless steel worktable. She handed the shiny square to Jacob, who folded the foil around a pot of blooming tulips.
“How many more of these do we have to do?” She rubbed the place where her shoulder met her neck.
The backroom of Laudner’s Flowers and Gifts was packed with dozens of spring plants in shipping crates. “Looks like maybe a hundred,” Jacob said.
“Damn, really?” Malini whined.
Jacob shook his head. “Don’t complain to me, Malini. You’re the one who wanted this job. I told you it sucked.”
“I need the spending money. Plus, it was an excuse to see you.” She’d been grounded from Jacob since last fall when they’d lied to her parents about taking an impromptu road trip. The honest truth was much worse. They’d been in Nod, where Malini and Abigail had rescued Jacob and his mother, Lillian, from the Watchers, the fallen angels who wanted their souls. But, of course, telling her parents that her boyfriend was a Soulkeeper, a warrior who protected human souls, was out of the question. So, they’d lied. Now, her father was convinced Jacob was a bad influence.
Without her job at Laudner’s Flowers and Gifts, she would rarely have a chance to see Jacob now that school was out. Sure, they sometimes used the staffs that Gideon had enchanted from the branches of Oswald Silva to visit each other at night, but they always had to be careful not to get caught. Lately, it seemed like their entire relationship was a series of stolen moments.
“I know it’s hard right now, Malini, but it won’t be like this forever. Your parents will come around. Have you asked them about prom yet?”
“Prom? Jacob, I can’t even get my dad to agree to let us study together. I hardly think I’ve worked up to the junior prom. Besides, it isn’t even until May. We’ve got like a month and a half.”
Jacob reached over and ran his hand down the line of her wrist, linking his fingers with hers. “I can’t wait.”
At his subtle tug, she leaned in over the tulips, her lips reaching for his, needing the reassurance of just one kiss. He pulled their linked fingers to his chest. For a precious moment, the only thing in the world was his face, the warmth of his breath, and the brush of his lips.
“What’s going on in here?” Lillian Lau called from the door to the backroom.
Malini withdrew to her spot opposite Jacob. She smoothed her shirt and tightened her ponytail.
“Nothing, Mom,” Jacob said.
“Well, do less of nothing and more of foiling those pots. I just sold another ten to the Westcotts. Fran says she’s lining her porch with them. Her older daughter, Stephanie, is coming home on spring break and adores tulips. Isn’t her son, Phillip, in your class?”
“Uhm … yeah,” Jacob said.
“I thought so,” Lillian replied.
Malini caught the look Jacob shot her and kept her mouth shut about Phillip. He’d been part of a group of kids who’d made their lives hell last year along with Dane Michaels. Dane had come around when Jacob rescued him after he’d gotten his ass kicked by a Watcher. They were friends now. But Phillip didn’t like it. In fact, the new friendship with Dane had given Phillip one more reason to hate Jacob and Malini.
Lillian looked at her watch. “You guys are on the clock for one more hour. Stop messing around and get the rest of those done. I don’t want to have to explain to John that you didn’t get your work done because you were fooling around in the backroom. He’d have you on separate shifts in a heartbeat.”
Jacob sighed.
“The answer is, ‘Yes, Mom,’” Lillian said.
“Yes, Mom.” Jacob turned his back on his mother and widened his eyes at Malini. The corner of his mouth pulled downward into a lopsided grimace.
Malini pressed her lips together and cut another foil square to keep herself from laughing. The telephone rang. Lillian retreated to her place behind the counter to answer it.
“Saved by the bell,” Malini murmured in Jacob’s direction. “There’s always someone watching.”
“It will get better. One way or another.”
“What is that supposed to mean—”
Lillian was back in the doorway. “That was Abigail. There’s been a killing … a homeless man in Chicago. She thinks it’s Watcher activity. They’re forming a team to investigate and bringing in another Horseman from the area. She wants us there tonight so she can fill us in on the details. I told her we’d come directly at the end of our shift.”
“But I can’t,” Malini said. “I’m still grounded. I’ve got to go straight home.”
“I’ll talk to your father, Malini,” Lillian said. “I’ll explain you need to stay late.”
“You mean you’ll lie for me again. What if we get caught? One more slip up and my father could lock me up and throw away the key.”
Lillian glanced at Jacob, who folded his arms across his chest, jaw clenched. “That’s a chance we’ll all have to take. It’s the price of being a Soulkeeper,” she said.
Malini slammed her knife down on the workbench and shot them both a dirty look.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I need to use the restroom.” She walked quickly, afraid the sting in her eye would turn into something more. The door closed behind her.
“Malini,” she heard Jacob call. She pretended she couldn’t hear him.
“Was it something I said?” Lillian asked.
“Mom, could you be a little more sensitive. She’s not…”
Jacob didn’t have to finish. Everyone knew exactly what he meant. She wasn’t a Soulkeeper. After months of meeting with Dr. Silva, of mysterious herbal concoctions, physical tests, and more talking than she’d cared to do, nobody knew what she was. The worst part was, no one would admit what she suspected all along: she was nothing. She wasn’t a Soulkeeper. No matter how often they included her or how many tests they did, it wouldn’t change the truth. She was nothing more than an ordinary human girl with an overdeveloped sense of smell that just so happened to allow her to detect fallen angels.
* * * * *
Malini, Lillian, and Jacob arrived at Dr. Silva’s gothic Victorian in Jacob’s dilapidated blue pickup truck. Once they were far enough into the thick of the maple orchard, the budding trees provided enough cover to camouflage the vehicle. Each of them had told a story about where they were supposed to be that afternoon. Each of them lied.
“Just in time.” Dr. Silva held the sunroom door open for them. Her pale eyes were as disturbing as ever but the jeans and pink Henley she wore were a far cry from the head-to-toe black she insisted on wearing before she met Jacob. “Gideon and I are going to open the portal. We need to do it in the tower where there’s more space and less chance of prying eyes. Come.” She tossed her platinum hair over her shoulder and led the way through the kitchen.
Malini followed, down the hall, and up the stairs to the library. A tapestry of the four horsemen of the apocalypse hung on the wall. She balked when she saw Dr. Silva charge through it.
Jacob took her hand. “Close your eyes and jump. Trust me,” he whispered into her ear. “The wall’s an illusion.”
Reluctantly, she followed his instructions, opening her eyes in a small room on the other side. The floor was wood. A spiral staircase made of wrought iron twisted up the center.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“In the tower,” Jacob replied, tugging on Malini’s hand to usher her up the spiral after Lillian.
“In all the time I’ve been working with Dr. Silva, she’s never brought me here,” Malin
i said.
“I’m sure she has her reasons.”
“Just like you’re sure she has her reasons for blowing off our training sessions or wasting my time chatting for hours about nothing.”
Jacob shrugged.
At the top of the stairs was a large room with a sanded wood floor and windows that stretched to the ceiling like a lighthouse. A desk and bookcase lined the inner wall where the tower was connected to the house and a telescope stood next to the windows. Gideon waited in the center of the cleared space in his angel form, his wings folded against his body. His aura cast the room in a bluish-white glow.
“Hello, Jacob, Lillian, Malini,” he said, nodding his head of wild auburn hair in their direction. His green eyes lingered on Malini, who was embarrassed to be caught staring. It was hard to look away from Gideon when he wasn’t in his usual form as Dr. Silva’s red cat.
“Nice to see you again, Gideon,” she said, breaking the awkward silence.
“Shall we get started?” Dr. Silva grabbed two wooden staffs that leaned up against the wall by the desk. She handed one to Gideon. “If everyone would stand back, we’ll bring in our other team member.”
Malini took a step toward the windows. Dr. Silva and Gideon faced each other, tapped the staffs together, and then pulled them apart. Their muscles strained with the effort. Between the two staffs, thin blue fibers stretched like electric taffy. A girl formed within the blue web. She stepped out, looking around the room as if she’d landed on another planet. Gideon and Dr. Silva closed the portal behind her.
To Malini, the new Horseman was the one who looked alien. She guessed the girl was not much older than herself. She wore a hooded leather jacket over a clingy, gray sleeveless T-shirt and skinny jeans. Her lips were too red, the lower one pierced with a metal stud. A hot pink streak of hair fell from her widow’s peak to her chin. As the girl turned to face Gideon, Malini noticed a tattoo on her neck under her jet-black ponytail, but from where she stood she couldn’t make out the details. Everything about her was hard, tough, unarguably a Horseman.
