Awaken the Soul (Havenwood Falls High)(3)

Clenching my jaw, my fingers slip into the waistband of her pants and work them down her hips. At the sight of her running tights, I release a relieved breath. I leave them on—they’re clean, dry, and modest. When I finish, I sweep the dirty comforter away and cover her with a thick blanket. My fingers linger at her temple as I brush her hair from her face. Her skin is warmer. And soft. So damn soft. It’s an effort to remove my hand and leave the room.

Once in my room, I swipe my hands through my hair and curse. Even from across the house, she tugs at me, wanting me to return. I press my palm to my chest as though I can press her out. What is going on? I change into clean sweats and a T-shirt, splash my face with cold water, and head for the kitchen, my thoughts on making Vivienne something warm, when my cell goes off.

The screen flashes: Elias.

“Hey man,” I answer nonchalantly.

“Hey man?” Accusation laces his words.

Crap.

“Your silence is telling. What happened?”

Did he notice it, too? The bizarre shift in the air, the release of my abilities, the reaper’s presence? “To what are you referring?”

I stick a milk-filled mug in the microwave.

“I’ve suspended service for the night. Should I come over? Or call your father?” he asks meaningfully.

“I used my abilities.” I slam a cabinet shut. “It was unintentional.”

A tirade of colorful curses serenades me. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know.” I chew on my lip and contemplate my words. “There was a reaper.”

Okay then, forget a well-thought-out explanation. Let’s lead with the biggie.

“A reaper?” Elias repeats. “Who died?”

“No one.”

“No one?” His breath hitches. “You healed? Why in the hell would you do that?”

His anger raises my hackles. “Because I can.”

“Breckin.”

“Don’t lecture me, Elias. I need to go. I’ll explain everything later.” I end the call and toss my phone on the counter.

When I return to Vivienne, she’s on her side with one hand resting beneath her cheek and the other clutching a down blanket to her chest. The thick bedding swallows her. She’s tiny, a foot shorter and seventy-five pounds lighter than me. The weight of her in my arms lingers.

Splotches of red mar her fingers and smear her chin. Leaving her drink on the bedside table, I head toward the bathroom and return with a warm washcloth. I’m aware of each swipe of the cloth, like I’m washing my own hands. Vivienne sighs and flinches when I set her hand down and rub her jaw. A whimper releases from her throat, making me pause.

She brushes her chin against her shoulder as she shifts restlessly. Her forehead creases as she fists the blankets and draws the edge to her mouth, tucking her face in before settling down.

The wind howls as a thick veil of white comes down fast outside my windows. I move from the edge of the bed to a chair across the room, my heart slowing as hers does, and I wait. There’s nothing more I can do.





Bad Dream





Vivienne





Slapping at my bedside table, my hand searches for the incessant vibration dragging me unwillingly from sleep. Finding my cell phone, I fumble with the screen, bringing the device to my ear. “Hello?” I clear my throat and repeat myself when the word barely passes my lips.

“Viv? Where have you been?” Mom’s voice sounds far, far away. I blink rapidly, clearing the sleep from my brain. “Were you asleep, honey? I’ve been calling all evening. Are you sick?”

Her questions come in quick-fire succession, and I struggle to keep up while sitting. Rubbing my aching temple, I peek at my cell for the time. Midnight. What the heck?

“Uh . . . no. Or, yeah. Yeah, I was sleeping. I’m not sick. Just tired.”

There’s a pause. A shift on the other end. “You didn’t call after your run. You know you’re supposed to let me know when you get home if I’m not there. I was worried. Especially with this storm raging and the disappearance of the Bennett girl.”

Heidi Bennett. She went missing last weekend, during the Cold Moon Ball. The adults around town are freaking out, but consensus at school is she probably had a fight with her boyfriend, or parents, and will show up in a few days. I work my head side to side, stretching out the kinks as I wait for her to say more.

“Viv? Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Mmmhmmm,” I hum, focusing on a shadow lurking beyond my window. The hair on the back of my neck stands. I never leave my blinds and curtains open, especially at night. Living on the first floor of an apartment complex doesn’t offer a whole lot of privacy. Plus, the guys across the way are pervs. “Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry I didn’t call. I laid down. I guess I fell asleep.”

After your run. Her words register belatedly, and my pulse picks up.

“Okay, sweetie. Go back to sleep, and I’ll see you when I get home in the morning.”

I nod, then remember I’m on the phone. “Yeah, okay, have a good shift. Love you.”

“I went for a run,” I say to the empty room after the call ends.

The snow outside reflects the bright winter moon and casts long shadows across my small bedroom. Sinking into my blankets, I pull my comforter over my bare shoulders. Wait. Bare shoulders? My hands run over my body. What am I wearing? Running tights and a sports bra? Kicking into a sitting position, I draw my knees to my chest.