Rachel Vincent - Before I Wake

“You okay?” Tod asked, and I looked up to find him leaning against the wall next to me, his light features shadowed in the dark hallway.

“I don’t know if I’m ever going to be okay again,” I said, and when his arms wrapped around me, I laid my chin on his shoulder and whispered into his ear. “I’m not like them anymore.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, rubbing my back with one hand. “But you can still be with them.”

“How? How am I supposed to pretend that prom, and graduation, and college are still the most important things in the world when I can’t close my eyes without seeing Alec on the floor in a pool of his own blood?”

“You aren’t. You’re not supposed to pretend with anyone in there, and you’re not supposed to pretend with me. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you’re the luckiest dead person I’ve ever met. You have so many people who love you and know what you’re going through.”

“They don’t know. How could they?”

“They may not understand everything you’re feeling, but they know about your job and your afterlife, and they want to be there for you. Which means you can be yourself with them, whether being yourself means sitting through classes you hate, or ranting over the injustice of the afterlife in general. The point is that you have people to talk to.”

He was right. “What do you have?”

“I have you. That’s all I need.” He tugged gently on my arm and I let him pull me into my bedroom, where we stretched out side by side on the bed. Fully clothed, on top of the covers, to keep my father from having a meltdown.

“Thank you for what you did for me today.”

Tod shrugged. “What’s a little crime-scene tampering between immortal lovers?”

“Not that. I’m still not sure that protecting me is a valid reason to cover up a crime—”

“We’ll agree to disagree on that… .”

“—but it means the world to me that you were willing to go to such lengths to protect me. But I’m talking about your room. The bath. A place to crash. Clean clothes. You even picked out my underwear—”

“ Truly my pleasure.” He dared a naughty grin.

“—and what you said…” I didn’t have the words to tell him how grateful I was. So I kissed him. It was a sad kiss, more comfort than heat, but there was strength in it. There was strength in him, and when I was with him, I felt like I was stronger, too. Like I might actually get through this.

“Thank you. I didn’t think I’d ever fall asleep again, but evidently I needed that nap.”

“That was less sleep than shock-induced shutdown. Your head needed time to catch up with your heart, and you needed someplace private to let that happen. I’ve been there.”

“Kaylee?” my dad said, and I glanced up to see him standing in the doorway, his gaze aimed at us, but unfocused. “It worries me when I can see body-shaped dents on your bed, but can’t see the bodies making them.”

“Sorry.” I sat up, then concentrated on making myself corporeal as Tod sat up next to me. “Fully clothed. As per orders.”

“Thanks for doing your part to keep your father sane.” He came in and sank into my desk chair. “I think you need some more furniture. More places to sit that aren’t the bed.” He was kidding—mostly—but when I couldn’t make myself smile or remind him that I was as grown as I was going to get, his focus narrowed on me in concern. “Are you okay? About Alec?”

“No,” I said, and fresh tears filled my eyes as Tod rubbed my back. “Can you close the door, Dad? I need to tell you something.” I could make sure that only he and Tod heard me, but my confession still wouldn’t feel private with the door standing wide open.

My dad closed the door, then sank onto the bed next to me, and his eyes swirled with concern. “What’s wrong, Kaylee?”

“I killed him.” The words burst from my mouth on the front edge of a sob, like they’d been waiting there all along. The room lost focus beneath my tears and as I stared at my hands in my lap, sniffling, trying to get myself under control, drops trailed down my cheeks to fall on my jeans.

My dad pulled me into a hug, and more of my tears soaked into his shirt. “No, Kaylee, you freed his soul and stopped Avari from wearing him like a costume.” He ran one hand over my hair, smoothing it against the back of my shirt. “You did your job, and I know it was hard, but if Alec were here, he’d thank you.”

“No.” I sniffled and blinked tears from my eyes, but more came to replace them. “Avari wasn’t wearing his soul, he was wearing Alec’s skin. ” My words came out in staccato bursts, punctuated by half-choked sobs. “Alec was just possessed, and I killed him.”

“She didn’t know,” Tod said as my father reached for the box of tissues on my nightstand without letting go of me. “Neither of us did. He manipulated her. It wasn’t her fault.”

I shook my head, drowning in guilt. Choking on grief. “I should have known.” My fist clenched around a handful of my father’s shirt, and I couldn’t let it go. “He was my friend. I should have been able to tell the difference between my friend and a demon.”

“No, Kaylee, don’t do this to yourself.” My dad pulled away from me so he could see my face, and when I tried to wipe my cheeks with my bare fingers, he pressed a tissue into my hand. “This is what he wants.” My father’s whole face was twisted with pain, for me. For Alec. For all of us caught up in Avari’s carnival of lies and torment. “He wants you to suffer.”

“ I want me to suffer.” I blotted my face with the tissue, then wadded it into a ball I couldn’t stop squeezing. “I should have known better, Dad. With hellions, the truth hides in what they don’t say.” Since they couldn’t outright lie, they’d become masters of implication and manipulation. “He never actually said Alec was dead.” I’d gone over everything Avari had said a dozen times since I’d woken up in Tod’s bed. “I should have known better.”

“Kaylee, Avari has spent hundreds—maybe thousands —of years perfecting the art of misdirection. And he had more than a quarter of a century to learn how to imitate Alec in particular.” My dad ducked to catch my gaze. “There’s no way you could have known. There’s no way anyone could have known.”

But that didn’t help. As badly as I wanted to let them comfort me, their words held no weight. I’d killed him. I should have known better. The guilt was mine to bear, and neither of them had the power to absolve me of that.

“Kaylee.” Tod looked blurry through my tears, and I wanted to touch him, but that wouldn’t be fair. Alec would never touch anyone again, and that was my fault, so I didn’t deserve comfort. “Alec wouldn’t blame you for this, so you have no right to blame yourself. Give credit where it’s due. Avari did this. He used you and your dagger just like he used Alec’s body. I understand why you feel guilty, and I know that’s going to be hard to overcome. But what you should feel is anger. This wasn’t a tragic accident. It was a crime, committed not by you, but by Avari. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to make him pay for that.”

I nodded. I was ready. “How? How do you hurt a hellion?” It was the age-old question, without answer for who knew how many thousands of years.

“Let’s start by starving him,” Tod said. “He feeds from pain, and yours is his favorite flavor. So cut him off. Turn your pain into anger, and he can’t feed from it. You have a responsibility to make sure that Avari’s not profiting from his crime.” He shrugged and summoned a small, crooked smile. “Anger’s more productive, anyway.”