Rachel Vincent - If I Die

“What happened?” he asked, on the tail of the most relieved sob I’d ever heard. “You died. I saw you die.” They hadn’t fixed his memory—I’d asked them not to.

“I made a deal, Dad. I had to, to make things right.”

“What kind of deal?”

“Aiden,” Harmony said from behind him, and her voice was so somber, so heartbroken, that I let go of him and looked up to find her watching me, blond curls in disarray, blue eyes so full of grief I could hardly stand to look at them. She didn’t know about Tod yet—not for sure. Not if Levi hadn’t told her. So was she grieving for me? “She signed on with the reapers.”

“Did you…?” my dad asked, turning back to me in horror, and I shook my head.

“Not exactly. I’ll explain it all later, but for now, can we just…” But I didn’t have any way to finish that sentence.

“But you’re back, right?” Emma asked, still standing across the room. She looked pale, and confused, and a little scared. “However you did it, you’re really back?”

“Not quite as good as new, but yeah. I’m back.” I held my arms out and she ran into them, squeezing me so tight I was almost glad I didn’t need to breathe.

“I woke up, and he was on your bed, and Sophie was screaming!” she sobbed into my hair. “And there was so much blood, and you were gone!”

And Emma and Sophie were all alone with a dead incubus, and they had no idea what had happened. They must have been terrified.

“Beck’s dead,” I said, holding her while she cried. “Everything’s going to be fine. Different. But fine.” That’s what I’d been telling myself over and over for the past few hours, while I waited for Madeline to get everything set up. While I waited for word from Levi, which never came. “How’s Sophie?” I asked my dad, without letting go of Emma.

“Traumatized, but she’ll be fine. Your uncle’s decided to tell her everything. The secrets have become too much for them both.”

I nodded. It was overdue.

Harmony watched me over Emma’s shoulder, arms wrapped around her own stomach, like something hurt deep inside. I wanted to hug her, but I wasn’t sure she’d want to touch me after what I’d done. I wanted apologize for what I’d put her through. For what I’d let happen to her sons, after she’d already lost so much. But I didn’t have the words to make either of us feel better.

“They were supposed to release Nash…” I said finally, when Em let me go.

Harmony nodded. “Sabine went to pick him up from questioning half an hour ago. He…he didn’t want me to come.” She glanced at the ground, then back up at me. “They said he’d been cleared, but they didn’t say how.”

“I gave a statement to the police. There’s going to be a story about it on the news tonight. They’re going to say there was a mix-up at the hospital and that the reports of my death were made in error.” That was almost a direct quote, from Madeline. As was the next part. “Arlington Memorial is telling reporters I was transferred to an undisclosed hospital for privacy, because of the high-profile nature of my case.” A sixteen-year-old girl attacked and nearly killed in her own home by a male teacher… Evidently that was a brow-raiser. “And I’m going to be fine.”

Before anyone could come up with a response beyond utter, speechless surprise, a car rumbled to a stop outside, and Harmony leaned over the couch to peek out the front window. “It’s Nash…” She rubbed her hands on her jeans nervously, then opened the front door. A minute later, Sabine led Nash in with one arm around his waist. He looked sick and exhausted, like he was the one who’d almost died.

Nash froze when he saw me, and anger raged in his eyes. He let go of Sabine and glared at me, and I felt my father at my back, a silent, solid presence, which Nash didn’t even seem to notice. “What the hell did you do?” he demanded, his voice low and rough, but blessedly free of Influence.

“I told them you didn’t do it. I cleared you,” I said, unable to quash the guilt I was drowning in with every word.

“You framed me for a double murder,” Nash spat, and Sabine glared at me from his side, her eyes dark and even scarier than usual. “Why, Kaylee?”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, tears filling my eyes. But there was nothing I could do or say to make things right between me and Nash. Not now. Not after everything we’d done to each other. How was it possible that a relationship I’d once thought was meant to be could have spawned so much pain? Addiction. Lies. Betrayal. Unfaithfulness. Manipulation by Influence. And now suspicion of two murders. We couldn’t have hurt each other worse if we’d been trying .

“I’m so sorry, Nash,” I said again. Because I had to try. “Beck made me. He had a knife, and he was going to—” But I couldn’t finish that thought. I didn’t want Emma to know what Beck had threatened to do to her and Sophie. Ever. “I’m so, so sorry.” And I’d be paying for what I’d done to him with every single day of my afterlife.

“Nash, she died, ” Emma said softly. “That bastard stabbed her and tried to steal her soul.”

Sabine’s eyes widened, and I could see some of her anger fade, but Nash…

“What soul?” Nash stomped past me unsteadily on his way to his room, and we all stared after him.

“He doesn’t mean that,” Harmony said, and my father wrapped one arm around her in sympathy. “He’s…not himself.”

I nodded. It was my fault Nash wasn’t himself, but I couldn’t quite believe that he didn’t mean it. Wouldn’t I hate him if he’d framed me for murder? Hadn’t I hated him just a little, after what happened in the parking lot? And that was nothing, compared to what I’d done.

“Kaylee…” Harmony said, and I could see the question in the slow, pain-filled swirl of pale blue in her eyes, demanding—yet dreading—to know the extent of her loss. “Where’s Tod? He’s not answering his phone.”

Tears filled my eyes again, and my dad pulled me close.

“Harmony…” he began, and I realized then that he knew. He’d either seen Tod die, or he’d figured it out. But he hadn’t told her yet. “Tod refused to reap Kaylee’s soul. I’m so sorry.”

Harmony’s hands flew to her mouth, and her eyes watered. She dropped onto the couch and squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears leaked out anyway.

“I tried…” I whispered, as my own tears fell. “I tried to get him back, but Levi said there was nothing he could do.”

“And if you’d waited another hour, that would have been true.”

I froze in my father’s arms, and if my heart had been beating, surely it would have stopped at the sound of Tod’s voice. Harmony stood, red eyes wide, and I turned slowly.

Tod stood in front of the kitchen door, his arms crossed over his chest, his lips turned up in a half smile. He spread his arms, and I ran into them, and they closed around me, and I could feel him, warm and solid, and very real.

“Levi says, ‘Surprise,’” he whispered, and I pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. “I take it I have you to thank for this?”

Tears poured down my face and I was vaguely relieved to realize that I could still cry. “He said it was too late. He said he’d already turned your soul in,” I sobbed. “I thought you were gone….” I hugged him tighter—couldn’t get close enough—and he rubbed my back.

“He didn’t want to promise something he wasn’t sure he could deliver.” Tod stepped away so he could see my face. “Thank you, Kaylee,” he said, and I laughed at the absurdity, and the irony, and the inexpressible giddiness of getting a gift—a surprise, at that—from the very agent of death who’d taken my life.