Awaken the Soul (Havenwood Falls High)(26)

And he’s an angel. He won’t age much further—he’s immortal. Will I be a creepy old woman passing the man I love off as my son, then grandson someday? I will grow old and die and leave him behind. My stomach turns. Am I thinking of a future with Breckin? Am I in love with him? Our souls are so in sync, it clouds all other feelings. It could be love, but it’s too soon to go there. Soul mates or not. Isn’t it?

“Buck up, cupcake. You’ll see lover boy again in one hour.” Zara knocks the back of my head as she takes her seat beside me. We’ve spoken less this last week than we have our entire lives. “You two are the real deal, huh?” Her words are dipped in resentment.

“Jealous?”

Zara snorts. “Of your hot boy toy? Totally. But I miss you more. He’s gonna have to give you up. At least occasionally—shared custody?”

I smile. Just like with my rigid schedule and mom, I’ve disappeared on Zara this week, too. With a rogue angel out to get me, it can’t exactly be helped, but she doesn’t know that.

“Eat lunch with us, and we can work out arrangements.”

“Really? He’ll share you?”

Never. Breckin’s words—You. Are. My soul—roll through my head.

I flash a coy smile. “What makes you think he’s the needy one?”

“I’ve never known you to be clingy, Viv.”

“That’s because you’ve never known me to be in love.”

Her face changes from wide-eyed shock to worry. Why did I admit that? Was I not just questioning my feelings? I’m an idiot, because I know darn well what my feelings are.

“You think you’re in love?” Zara scoots her chair halfway into the aisle. “Viv, I don’t want to see you get hurt. I know there’s some sexy appeal to Breckin Roberts, but he’s Breckin Roberts. Don’t get your hopes up.”

She means well. I push the leg of her chair with my foot, sliding her back toward her own desk. “I love you, Z. Everything will be fine.”

If she has more to say, she’s denied the chance by the start of class.

Halfway through AP Lit, my cell vibrates. I covertly slip the phone from my pocket.

Breck: My father is at the house. I have to go see him.

Me: Now? I’ll come with you.

My heart races as I wait for his reply. He’s taking too long. Why? A glance at the front of the room verifies I’m not being watched. I type again.

Me: Breck?

Breck: You can’t. I need you to stay here. Stay in the building and with someone at all times, okay? I’ll be back in time for chem.

I can’t? Irrational worry, or maybe it isn’t irrational considering what he’s told me about his father, hits me.

Me: Will Elias be there?

Again, his reply takes too long. I lean down and grab my backpack, half determined to run for the exit. Beside me, Zara hisses, drawing my attention. Her brows dip over her eyes in a silent question. I shake my head and mouth, I’m fine.

Breck: Elias is there, Vivie. I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll see you soon.

The remainder of class is a blur. Within moments of Breck’s last text, dread hits me. I rub my chest, the emptiness I felt after he and Elias attempted erasing my memories coming back full force. Elias said I’d get used to it—the way my bond calls to Breckin’s when we’re not in close proximity. I’m empty, and he’s not even two miles away.

Two sharp knocks on the classroom door stops us in the middle of reading a passage from Heart of Darkness.

“Sorry for the interruption. May I see Vivienne for a moment please?”

The pencil I’m doodling with stills as I look up. The assistant principal wants me? She lifts a hand and waves me over, before ducking back into the hall. Sharing a curious glance with Zara, I slip my cell up my sleeve and stand. The reading continues before I’ve left the room.

AP Lit is at the end of a hallway on the first floor of the school. To the left are exit doors with colorful posters advertising the Yuletide Ball tomorrow night, and to the right is a long corridor of closed classroom doors, and the Assistant Principal’s back, as she walks away.

Am I supposed to follow her? What about my things?

The exit doors behind me open, a shock of cool wind and a beam of light shining into the hallway.

“Hello, pretty one.” His rasping voice sends tendrils of fear curling up my spine.





This Is War





Breckin





He stands in the middle of the living room, beneath the arched ceiling and before the burning fireplace, the owner of this house and my life. Or so he thinks.

“Father.”

He does not turn. I didn’t expect him to. “Breckin.”

His profile is the same. The same face I’ve known my entire life. The face of a man who could be my brother. Thousands of years old and he looks like a frat boy right out of college. He looks like me, but looks are deceiving. Father isn’t a college boy. He isn’t harmless.

“Well?”

And he isn’t patient. Leaving my wings out, I step farther into the room, nodding at Elias, who leans against a wall, arms crossed over his chest, the glare he wears for Father’s sake firmly in place.

“I am told you healed.”