Soul Corrupted (14 page)

Keira

Without him in it, Noah’s room
depresses me, so I pop over to visit old Ms. Alvarez and do a little spying.
I’ll just find out what the bitch is doing, then I’ll bug Josh for awhile. That
should lift my spirits.

The problem with my plan is apparent when I show up in
the kid’s room and see Josh sitting in her little, purple chair, spinning
around like a six-year-old.

I clear my throat.

“Shit.” Josh nearly falls out of the seat when he
spins to face me. His skin drains of all color. Damn straight. I
should
scare him.

“Hi, pookie. What’s up? I thought you’d be busy crying
in a corner somewhere. Or are you glad to finally get rid of good, lil Grace?”

Josh’s reaction changes to rage. Vengeful Angel looks
good on him, not that I’m going to tell him that. “What are you doing here?”

I shrug as he rises out of the seat and towers over
me. His muscles are taut beneath his shirt and I’m tempted to run a finger over
them just to piss him off, but angry Angels aren’t fun to touch.

“I was looking for my boyfriend,” I lie, morphing into
Hope.

Rage turns to disgust and he backs away. “I’m not your
boyfriend. I did what I had to do to save Grace’s brother.”

“Why not have some fun anyway?” I ask. The old Josh
would’ve at least considered it for a moment, but not this one.

“Get the fuck out of here, Keira. I’m busy.”

I
tsk
at him while sauntering over to the
unmade bed where I pick up that rather intriguing book. “Language. I don’t
think The Man Upstairs would like that.”

“Leave Lucy alone.” He grabs the book from me,
brushing my finger by accident and sending a spark of intense pain shooting through
me.

I cry out, waving my hand like I can shake off the
searing agony and watching in horror as my pinky turns black like a burnt twig.
I scream louder.

“Keira!” Josh rushes toward me, and I back away, eyes
wide. This could be the end of me. I put up my arms to protect myself and fall
to the ground, whimpering.

“I don’t want to die. Please. I don’t want to die.”

After a moment I realize nothing’s happening and lower
my arms to find Josh staring, wide eyed, horror dripping from his features. He’s
as scared as I am.

I rise slowly, careful not to get too close. “I guess
you finally decided I’m completely evil.” It’s the only explanation for why his
touch is so deadly. Why is my vision blurred? Am I disappearing slowly because
he touched me? No. It’s something else. It’s…tears.

A small “oh” comes out of my mouth as I brush the
liquid away from my eye.

“Keira, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to kill you. I
don’t. I don’t want to kill anyone.”

I look back at him sharply, eyes stinging from the
tears and the burn of crimson. “You mean you don’t want to kill anyone—not
even a Demon.”

“I…” He doesn’t finish. He can’t.

“Where’s Alvarez?” I ask, finally recognizing that the
Boss won’t be happy that Josh is here, either. Josh must know about Alvarez. So
much for being distracted.

“Nevermind,” I say before he can respond, realizing
the truth. “You’ve killed me either way.” He may as well have. If Lucifer finds
out I failed, again…

“Alvarez’ll be back in Hell soon,” Josh says, reigning
in his shock at what his touch did to me. He’s clenching his hands in his
pockets.

“I have to go,” I say, backing away.

He doesn’t answer, just watches stone-faced as I
disappear in my customary cloud of smoke.

I make one quick stop at a thrift store to grab an old-fashioned,
ladies’ white glove, then I appear near Noah, but out of his sight. He’s come
to the graveyard where Grace is buried. I’ve seen her grave before. It’s up on
the hill in the most beautiful spot, of course. My grave is unmarked. I don’t
bother visiting. I’d rather not find my skeleton, decomposed and swarming with
maggots. No thank you.

He’s kneeling like he’s searching for something. There
must be a dozen crows all around the hill, cawing loudly. A murder of crows. I snort
at the term and drop down behind one of the bigger Angel statues to pull my
knees to my chest. My finger still stings, and I lift it up in front of my nose
to examine it.

I gag, trying to hold back the contents of my stomach.
My pinky is a shriveled, dead thing. I wish it weren’t part of me. I wish I could
shake it off of me like an insect.

The tears start again. They come heavy and hard,
making me tremble and moan. I’m careful not to be loud enough to attract Noah’s
attention, though. I don’t want him to think I followed him because of Lucifer
or Grace. I just…needed to be somewhere safe.

What a pathetic creature I am. When something purely
good touches me, I wither into…what’s inside of me, I guess. Is that what my
soul looks like?

My lip hurts. I’m biting down too hard and the
metallic taste of blood slides down my throat. I take out the glove and cover
the offensive hand, wondering if Lucifer can fix me.

Then I realize that it’s Lucifer’s gifts—bribes
in exchange for my provocation of evil—that slowly turned me into this
thing.

Lucifer is the reason this happened.

He owns me. He owns my soul. I know what happens to
souls in his keep, and I have the best of what I can expect in Hell. This is as
good as it gets.

As if I’ve summoned him with my thoughts, I smell
cigar smoke and know he’s nearby. I haven’t seen him smoke a stogy in awhile.
He must know I screwed up.

Sure enough, his freshly polished, patent-leather
shoes come into view from the other side of the Angel statue. I look up to see
him remove the Cuban from his lips and blow the smoke down into my face.

I’m shaking like my own localized earthquake and I
can’t seem to stop.

“How very unlike you, Keira,” Lucifer drawls, taking
another puff.

“I just needed a minute to myself.” I try to stay the
tears and stand.

“What’s with the fashion statement?” he asks, shrewd
eyes focused on my glove.

I sigh and pull it off to show him. “Guess Josh
decided I’m pure evil. He’s right, isn’t he?”

“Keep that covered. It offends me.” Lucifer puffs
away, leaning against the statue while I cover up again.

I force myself to get it together. He doesn’t seem
angry, so maybe I’m not in the doghouse after all.

“Lucifer,” I ask, putting on my most feminine voice. I
know he loves a demure female. “Am I your oldest working Demon?”

Lucifer strokes his chin, thinking. “Why yes, I
believe you are. The older ones have all…retired.”

“What does a retired Demon do?” I ask, knowing his
tricks.

He grins, making me shiver. “Whatever I tell them to.”

That’s the clearest answer he’s willing to give? I
swallow, wondering what he means. And when he’ll decide it’s time for me to
retire.

“How’s our boy?” he asks, nodding toward Noah.

“Grace appeared to him and they argued,” I report. “He
hates her. Hates that she’s the focus of everyone and that we might have used
him to get to her.” I shift a little, uncomfortable with the idea of Noah being
upset.

 “I doubt Michael would’ve approved that meeting.
Maybe there’s hope for our Grace yet.”

My anger flares for a moment. Lucifer still wants
Grace to join us? What’s so special about her? I take a deep breath, tucking
the feelings away where they aren’t as dangerous to me.

Lucifer continues. “I’d say your work here is done.
You’ve done a marvelous job on him, Keira. You deserve a gift.” He winks.

“What? What did I do?” I don’t want my time with Noah
to be over.

“That conversation with Grace put him over the edge.”
Lucifer says, grinning. “Tell me, Keira, how is Irma doing?”

I swallow. I guess this is where he finds out about
Josh, but I don’t dare lie. “Not so well. Josh is there.”

He shrugs. “No matter. We have what we need right
here. I’ll be revoking her Demon status soon enough. Leave her with Josh. In
fact, if things go my way for once, he’ll be damning a soul for me soon.”

I am thoroughly confused. “What do you mean ‘we have
what we need right here’?” I ask, picking apart what he said to find the seed
of truth.

He glances at Noah, still at Grace’s grave. “You
tipped the scales, Keira. We’ve been searching for our next target: the future Antichrist.
Not only have you found him, but he’s already committed murder. Noah’s not a
potential future Antichrist, Keira. He
is
the Antichrist. They can’t
touch him now.”

“Noah killed someone? When?”

“After his argument with his sister…and with you,”
Lucifer
tsks
softly, tapping his cigar so that ash falls at my feet.
“Made him pretty upset. I noticed you left him alone after as well. Good move. No
one else to take it out on.”

I stare at Noah from afar. His golden hair, unruly and
wild; the curve of his shoulders and strong back. I remember his gentle hands
gliding along my body. His innocent questions. He’s the one individual destined
to bring about the End of Times? And it’s because of
me
? No. Grace will
save him. Josh will save him. We will lose like we always do.

“Did you hear me, Keira? He’s committed to the darkness.
He’s ours. It’s finally happened.” I’ve never heard such uncontrolled glee come
from Lucifer and it’s far more frightening than when he’s mad at me.

“But Heaven—”

“Heaven can burn along with Earth. There’s nothing
they can do now. Hear me up there?” he shouts toward the sky, which is swirling
with deep-indigo clouds, thunder roiling within.

They can’t save him? It’s too late?

“We’ve already won.”

Josh

What have I done? I could have
killed Keira. Not that she doesn’t deserve it, but still—I’d be
responsible for taking away her existence. It’s not just death—it’s the end.
The innocent mistake makes me realize that I’m playing with fire. I’m an Angel.
I’m a goddamn powerful Angel. And I’m messing with someone’s eternal soul.

If that’s what I’m supposed to do, they’ve got the
wrong guy. I am so out of my league it’s laughable.

I rush downstairs, ready to call off the plan. I need
to stop Lucy from making a huge mistake. But I’m stopped in my tracks by a
shriek. Heart pounding, afraid I’m too late, I turn the corner to find Ms.
Alvarez, alive and well, wiping at a huge, wet stain on her pink, satin blouse.

“Sorry.” Lucy doesn’t sound particularly sorry, but I
note the spilled tea and stifle a laugh.

Alvarez glances over at me, and I go completely still,
realizing I’ve just given myself away. But far from showing surprise, she
narrows her eyes, and the edges of her thin lips turn up ever so slightly, like
a challenge:
too late, I’m winning
.

“Never you mind,” she simpers, regaining control and
snatching a napkin from Lucy’s hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does,” Lucy says. “Let me make you fresh tea.
I insist.” She smiles, letting her hair fall over her eye so she looks as
innocent as possible.

“Very well.” Alvarez sits and smiles as Lucy exits
into the kitchen. Then she turns to me, cocking her head to the side. “Well, if
it isn’t the boy who loves to interfere with my plans. You can’t possibly think
you can beat me at my own game, do you?”

“I don’t know that I can,” I admit, “but I’m sure as
Hell going to try.”

The cry of a teakettle interrupts her retort and I
dive back around the corner before Lucy comes out. It would be too crazy to try
and explain the situation if she found us chatting like old friends. She’d
think I was trying to stop her—and I’m suddenly not sure whether I should.

That woman murdered me.

She murdered Grace and framed me for it.

And here she is, sipping her fucking tea.

I swallow, remembering Keira’s ear-piercing scream and
the way her finger nearly disintegrated when I brushed it with mine. If I
hadn’t even intended to do that, what would happen if I purposely touched
Alvarez?

My pulse throbs in my head. How can I even contemplate
this? Grace would never consider killing anyone for any reason—even if
that person was already dead. If I needed any more proof that I’m not truly
Angel material, this is it.

Alvarez’s smirk infuriates me further as she accepts a
new cup of tea from Lucy. Now’s my chance. Do I intervene? I’m still standing
there uselessly when Lucy’s smile lights up her face.

Chills crawl up my arm because her smile doesn’t fit the
situation…until Alvarez bursts out in a coughing fit, spastically reaching for
her throat between convulsions. Lucy begins chanting under her breath as the teacup
tumbles to the edge of the table, sprinkling delicate shards of china like a
perverse snowstorm.

Alvarez’s hands fly to her throat as she jerks with
the effort of taking a breath. Clear liquid spills from her lips, the flow
growing stronger by the second. Her body spasms as she falls to her knees, her
rapidly bluing lips moving, trying to cut off the flow.

“Lucy, stop.” I step forward, suddenly positive I have
to stop this, but unsure what to do to help Alvarez.

Lucy’s chanting grows louder as she moves closer. I
step toward her, and she makes eye contact with me.

Alvarez’s body stills. Lucy stops directly between us,
voice faltering over the foreign words she’s mumbling. The water coming from
Alvarez slows to a trickle. When she no longer moves, I lean down and feel for
the pulse I hope will be there.

Only it isn’t.

“You drowned her,” I say, not quite believing it
myself.

“I…I did it?” Her eyes widen as she takes in Alvarez’s
body on the floor. “I used the spell and my power, but I felt it falling apart
again at the end. When you told me to stop.”

“I was too late. I should have yelled sooner.”

She swallows hard, staring at the body.

“How are you planning on covering this up?” I ask,
still waiting for Alvarez to come back to life. She has to. She was already
dead.

“I’ll clean up the broken cup, I have a spell for
that. You get the body upstairs to my room.”

“Um, why?” I ask, voice cracking.

“Because there are things I want to try with it.
There’s a chapter on necromancy.”

She wants to make a zombie Alvarez? I’m gonna be sick.
I pull my sleeves down over my hands to prevent touching Alvarez’s skin
directly and drag her ass up the stairs. Lucy will probably think I’m doing it to
prevent leaving fingerprints.

I drop her ankles the moment I get her over the threshold
of Lucy’s room and shut the door before I panic. Alvarez still hasn’t woken up.
I nudge her head with my shoe.

“Boo!” She jumps up unnaturally fast and makes monster
claws with her fingers before bursting into laughter.

“You’re nuts.” I’m sure I’m not telling her anything
new.

“And you’re an accomplice to murder once again.” She
straightens her outfit, tugging out the wrinkles. “I suppose I should thank you
for helping move my plans forward so much faster than I could have on my own.”

“Demons don’t count,” I say, nauseous. “She’s not lost
yet. I just need to convince her to use her powers for good.”

Alvarez snorts. “She enjoyed it. She’s going to want—no,
need
—more.”

“She’s going to come upstairs soon to experiment on
you with some more magic,” I say, wanting to disturb her.

“That
is
a bit problematic,” Alvarez says, tapping
her chin with a pudgy finger. “It won’t be pleasant to play dead while she does
whatever she does, but I suppose I must make up for my sins somehow.”

“What?” I can’t even process how insane her statement
is.

“Well, if I’m going to be welcomed back into Heaven
when I start Armageddon, then I want to have a clean slate.” She says it like a
patient teacher.

“Just show her you’re not dead,” I suggest, not sure
why I’m bothering other than it disturbs me way too much to picture her going
through with her plan.

“Oh, I mustn’t!” Alvarez scolds. “She has to believe
that there are other people like myself that see nothing wrong with what she’s
doing. That’s part of the role of a Demon, my dear boy.”

I run from the room, taking three stairs at a time, needing
to get away from this fruitcake. Lucy’s on her hands and knees, humming while the
water, glittering with tiny shards of porcelain, is sucked into the air from
the carpet and into a bucket she’s placed nearby.

One tap on her shoulder and the water stops as she
looks up at me with a shaky grin, her veiled eye somehow communicating both joy
and malice.

“Lucy, we need to talk.” I guide her to the kitchen
table.

“Don’t worry, Josh, I’ll finish everything before
anyone gets home. You can leave if you want.”

“Lucy,” I take her shoulders in my hands. “You can’t
be this detached. You just killed a human being. You took a life from someone.”
I put up a hand to stop her from a speech about how annoying Alvarez is. “I
don’t care how bad you thought she was. What if she had a granddaughter who
needed her because she was the only family the kid had left? What if she was
the favorite aunt of some abused child?” I’m pulling all of this out of my ass,
but I have to get through to her. I can’t just leave this mess I created. It
was my worst idea ever.

“Josh,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m sorry I
involved you. I know how delicate you are.”

What?

“You should take the rest of the day off. When you
come back tomorrow, everything will look normal and it’ll all be like a bad dream.”
She says it in such a numb way, I suddenly wonder if she’s trying to convince
herself as well as me. Maybe there really is hope?

She removes my hand from her shoulder and retreats to
the other room. A shadow moves across the table like a passing cloud, and I
turn to peer out the window over the sink. Outside, clouds gather overhead,
moving faster than I’ve ever seen. Everything else stays unnaturally still,
though. Not even a leaf moves on the maple tree.

To say I screwed up would be the understatement of the
century. It’s time to fess up to Griffith even if it means getting kicked out
of Heaven. I’m no Angel. I just sat by and watched a young girl murder her
tutor. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not. Grace is better off without me.
And what does it matter where I am if I can’t be with her?