My Soul to Save

But the reaper shook his head. “Souls can’t be stolen from the living. They can only be given away or sold by the owner, or poached after death, once they’re released from the body. There’s a huge market for human souls in the Netherworld, and what Addy did was perfectly legal. But she had no idea what she was getting into. She couldn’t have.”

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t decide whether I was more horrified for those four innocent souls or for my aunt, who’d given up her own soul to save her daughter’s. Or for Addison Page, who would soon suffer the same fate.

“We have to tell her.” I looked into Nash’s eyes and found the greens and browns once again swirling, this time with fear and reluctance, based on the expression framing the windows of his soul. “I couldn’t live with myself if we didn’t at least try.”

“Kaylee, this is not our responsibility,” he said, his protest fortified with a solid dose of ordinary common sense. “The hellion already has her soul. What are we supposed to do?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe we could help her break her demon contract, or something. Is that possible?”

Nash nodded reluctantly. “There are procedures built in, but Kaylee, it’s way too dangerous….” But he knew he couldn’t change my mind. Not this time. I could see it on his face.

“I can’t walk away and leave her soul to be tortured if there’s anything I can do to help. Can you?”

He didn’t answer, and his heavy silence frightened me more than the thought of the hellion waiting for full possession of Addison’s soul. Then he took my hand, and I exhaled deeply in relief. “Lead the way, reaper,” he said. “And you better hurry. With Eden dead, Addy probably won’t stick around for the finale.” The previous shows had each closed with a duet from Addison’s forthcoming album.

With Nash’s warning in mind, we wound our way through the backstage area, Tod popping into locked rooms and side hallways occasionally to make sure we were on the right track. He also popped into Addison’s dressing room twice, to make sure she was still there.

The closer we got, the more people we saw in the halls, and they were all talking about Eden’s onstage collapse. She’d been rushed to the hospital moments after we left the stage, and though the EMTs had been giving her CPR and mouth-to-mouth when they left, no one seemed to think she would live.

Which we already knew for sure.

Thanks to the badges around our necks, no one tried to throw us out, or even ask where we were headed, so when we finally made it to Addison’s dressing room, I couldn’t help thinking the whole thing had been too easy.

I was right. There was a security guard posted outside her door. He had a newspaper rolled up in one fist and biceps the size of cannons.

“Now what?” I whispered, bending for a drink from the water fountain twenty feet from the closed door.

“Let me make sure she’s still alone,” Tod said, and I flinched over how loud he was speaking until I realized no one else could hear him. “Then I’ll get rid of the guard.”

Before we could ask how he planned to do that, the reaper disappeared.

Nash and I strolled arm in arm down the hall, trying not to look suspicious, and I grew more grateful by the second that he’d come with us—because I would have done it even without him. The security guard wore sunglasses, though it was night and we were inside, so I couldn’t tell whether or not he was watching us, but I would have bet money that he was.

Out of nowhere, a hand touched my elbow, and Tod suddenly appeared at my side. I nearly jumped out of my skin, and the guard’s head swiveled slowly in my direction.

“Don’t do that!” I whispered angrily.

“Sorry,” Tod said. But he didn’t look very sorry. “Her mom’s in there with her now, but she’s about to leave to call the car.”

He’d barely spoken the last word when the dressing room door opened, and an older, darker version of Addison Page emerged. She nodded to the guard, then clacked off down the hall past us, without a word or a glance in our direction.

“Okay …” This time Tod whispered, as if setting the tone for the Acme tiptoe routine we were about to pull. “You guys duck into the bathroom around the corner. I’ll draw the guard away while you sneak into Addy’s room, then I’ll pop in with you. Get her attention fast, and don’t let her scream.”

But something told me that would be easier said than done.

“I’m gonna kill you if this goes bad,” Nash hissed as we followed the reaper around the corner toward the public restroom.

“It’s a little late for that,” Tod snapped. Then he was gone again.

I opened the door to the ladies’ room to make sure it was empty, then waved Nash inside and left the door slightly ajar. While he looked around in awe at the cleanliness and the fresh flowers, I peeked through the crack, waiting for some all-clear sign from Tod.

We’d only been in the bathroom a few seconds when rapid footsteps clomped toward us from the direction of Addison’s dressing room. Tod appeared around the corner, fully corporeal now, a wild grin on his face, the security guard’s newspaper tucked under one arm. The guard raced after him, but the poor man was obviously built for strength rather than speed, because Tod put more distance between them with every step.

“Get back here, you little punk!” the guard shouted, huge arms pumping uselessly at his sides.

Tod glanced at me as he passed the bathroom, and I could swear I saw him wink. Then he rounded the next corner, and the guard trailed after him.

As soon as they were gone, Nash and I jogged back to the dressing room, hearts pounding with exhilaration, afraid the guard would return at any moment. We stood in front of the door, hand in hand, and my pulse raced with nerves. Nash met my eyes, then nodded toward the doorknob.

“You do it,” I whispered. “She doesn’t know me, but she may remember you.”

Nash rolled his eyes but reached toward the door. His hand hesitated over the knob for a second, then I saw determination—or was that resignation?—flash across his face. He twisted the knob and opened the door in one smooth motion, so brash I almost envied his nerve.

He stepped inside and pulled me in with him, then closed the door.

I braced myself, expecting to hear Addison scream for Security. Instead, I heard nothing and saw no sign of Addison Page.

But her room was awesome. A rack of flashy costumes stood against one wall, beside a full-length stand-alone mirror. Which was next to a vanity lit by several large, frosted bulbs. In one corner stood a small round table covered in an array of meats, cheeses, fruit, and bite-size desserts. And in the center of the room, a couch and two chairs were gathered around a flat-screen television hooked up to a PlayStation 3.

But no Addison Page.

Nash glanced at me with his brows raised in question, and I shrugged. Then jumped when the sound of running water drew my focus to an open door I hadn’t noticed before. The dressing room had a private restroom. And Addison Page was in it.

“Is the car ready?” The singer stepped out of the restroom and crossed the floor toward her vanity, head tilted away from us as she pulled an earring from her left ear. Then she looked up and froze. For just a second, I thought she might actually scream. But then Nash spoke, and her features relaxed, just enough to hold true fear at bay.

“Hi, Addison,” he said, and his Influence flowed over the room like a warm, comforting breeze, smoothing her ruffled feathers and taking the edge off my own nerves. Male bean sidhes rocked the whole audio-anesthesia thing, whereas the females of our species sported only an eardrum-bursting scream.

Not fair, right? But convenient at times.

A brief flicker of annoyance flashed across Addison’s famous, pixieish features, replaced an instant later by a gracious, bright white smile. “Um, this isn’t really a good time. I’m on my way to the hospital to check on Eden,” she said, brushing back the blue streak in her pale hair while she grabbed a pen from the vanity. “But I guess I have time for a quick autograph.”

She thought we were fans. And she didn’t know Eden was dead. I wasn’t sure which misunderstanding to correct first, so I started with the lesser of two evils.

“Oh, we’re not fans.” I shrugged, stuffing my hands into my pockets. But then she frowned, and I realized how that had sounded. “I mean, we are fans. We love your music. But that’s not why we’re here.”

Her frown deepened. Even with Nash’s Influence, by my best guess, we had less than a minute before she would yell for the guard, who had surely returned to his post by now. “Then what do you want?” Addison narrowed beautiful, impossibly pale blue eyes, though her smile stayed friendly. Or at least cautious.

I glanced at Nash, hoping for some help, but he only shrugged and gestured for me to start talking. After all, I’d gotten him into this.

“We have to tell you something.” I hesitated, glancing at the couch. “Could we maybe sit down?”

“Why?” She was openly suspicious now, and her hand snuck into her pocket, where a bulge betrayed her cell phone. “Who are you?”

“My name is Kaylee Cavanaugh, and this is Nash Hudson. I think you two used to know each other.”

The lines in her brow deepened, and she propped one hand on her hip. “No, I … Wait. Hudson?” Understanding flickered behind her eyes.

Nash nodded.

“Tod’s brother.” Addison pulled her hand from her pocket and laid it across her chest, like she was crossing her heart. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. I haven’t seen you since the funeral. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” Nash gave her a small, sad smile. “But you’re not.”

Alarm flashed across her face and her hand slid into her pocket again, her thin, gold chain-link bracelet pushed up her arm with the motion. “What is this?”

Before I could answer, Tod appeared at my side, still winded from his race with the security guard. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” Nash said, having obviously heard, if not seen, him. “We haven’t told her yet.”

“Told who what?” Addison pulled the phone from her pocket and flipped it open, truly frightened now. “What’s going on?”

“Say something,” Tod urged, elbowing me. I glared at him, and Addison followed my gaze to … nothing. She couldn’t see him, and she obviously couldn’t hear him. “Start talking or she’s going to call someone.”

“I know!” I whispered, elbowing him back. There was no use pretending he wasn’t there on her account. She already thought we were nuts. “Addison, please sit down. We have to tell you something, and it’s going to sound very … strange.”

“It already does. I think you should go.” She edged toward the door, stretching one arm ahead of her, as if to point the way. “You’re creeping me out.”

“Do something!” Tod yelled this time, eyes wide and desperate.

Nash sighed heavily, and I knew what he was going to do a moment before the words left his mouth. But not soon enough to prevent them. “Okay, here’s the deal. You’re going to kill yourself in five days, and we’re here to talk you out of it.”

Addison blinked, and for a moment her fear gave way to confusion, then anger as her empty hand clenched the back of the sofa. “Get out. Now.”

“What, you couldn’t put a little Influence behind that one?” I snapped, glaring at Nash.

“Not if you want her to understand.” His gaze shifted past me to Tod. “I told you she wouldn’t listen.”

“Who are you talking to?” Addison demanded, her voice rising in both pitch and volume.

“You’re gonna have to show her,” I told Tod, hyper-conscious of the singer’s near panic. “She won’t listen to us, but she can’t ignore you.”

Tod glanced at Nash for a second opinion, but his brother only nodded, leaning with one hip against the arm of an overstuffed chair. “I don’t see any other way.”

Tod sighed, and I knew from the surprise on Addison’s face that she’d heard him. A second later she jumped backward and her free hand went to her throat in shock. “No …”

She could see him.

4

“ADDY, PLEASE DON’T freak out.” Tod held his hands palms out, as if to calm her.

“There’s another option?” Addison backed slowly toward her vanity, planting one wedge-heeled foot carefully behind the other with each step. “You’re dead. I saw you in your coffin.”

She had? I turned to Tod with one hand propped on my hip, surprised. “Wait, you were actually in the coffin?”

“Not for long,” he mumbled. Then, “Not the point, Kay.”

Oh, yeah. Soulless pop star contemplating suicide. Focus, Kaylee.

“Who are you?” Addison demanded. The backs of her thighs hit the vanity and she gripped the edge of it to steady herself. “How did you do that?”

It took me a second to realize she meant his sudden appearance out of nowhere. And maybe the whole coming-back-to-life thing.

“Addison, it’s Tod. You know it’s him,” I said, desperately hoping that was true. That she was even listening to me, though her shocked, wide-eyed gaze was glued to her undead ex-boyfriend.

Her breathing slowed and her pale blue eyes narrowed. She was studying him, probably trying to decide whether to freak out and shout for help, or to calm down and listen. I honestly don’t know which I would have chosen in her position. But then she shook her head once, as if she were trying to toss off sleep, and denial shone bright in her eyes again.

“No. You’re not him. You can’t be. This is some kind of joke, or stunt. I’m being Punk’d, right? Ashton, if you’re out there, this is not funny!” Her face flushed with anger, and tears formed in her eyes.

“You’re gonna have to prove it,” I whispered, glancing sideways at Tod.

He sighed, and I was impressed with how calm he stayed. “You know me, Addy. We went out for eight months in high school, back in Hurst, before you got the pilot. You were a freshman and I was a sophomore. Remember?”

Instead of answering, Addy crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “Lots of people know that. I mentioned Tod in an interview once, and paparazzi followed me to his funeral. Nice try, but you’re done. Get out before I yell for Security.”

She talked about Tod to reporters? Wow. They must have been really close. …

“Addy, you remember our first date? You didn’t talk to the press about that, did you?”

She shook her head slowly, listening, though her arms remained crossed.

“We went to the West End for ice cream at Marble Slab, and we got a caricature done together by a guy with an easel set up on the sidewalk. I still have it. Then you got carsick on the way home and threw up on the side of the road. Do you remember? You didn’t tell anyone else about that, did you?”

She shook her head again, her eyes wide. “Tod?” Addison’s famous voice went squeaky, and broke on that one syllable. He nodded, and she hugged herself. “How …? That’s impossible. I saw you, and you were dead. You were dead!”

“Yeah, well, it turns out that’s not always as permanent as it sounds.” Nash spoke calmly, softly, and the tension in my own body seemed to ease at his first words. “He was dead. But he’s not anymore. Kind of.”

Addison’s shoulders relaxed as her gaze traveled from Tod to his still-living brother. “How? That doesn’t make sense.” Yet she wasn’t as upset by that as she should have been. With any luck, Nash could strike a balance between too-terrified-to-listen and too-relaxed-to-understand.

“It doesn’t make sense up here—” Nash tapped his temple “—but I think you know the truth inside. You’ve seen strange things, haven’t you, Addy?” His voice lilted up with the question and he stepped forward, capturing her gaze. “You sold your soul, and you must have seen some pretty weird stuff in the process….”

Addison’s shock broke through her mild daze for a moment, and she opened her mouth, but before she could ask how he knew about her soul, Nash continued. “But all of that was real, and so is this. So is Tod.”

Her gaze slid to the reaper again, and now that Nash had calmed her fear and quieted that stubborn human denial, I could tell she really saw him. “How did you … get here?”

The reaper shrugged, and mild mischief turned up the corners of his lips. “I distracted the guard at the door, then doubled back.” Addison frowned, then a small smile began at her mouth and spread to include those famous, eerily pale eyes. “I see death hasn’t killed your sense of humor.”

Though, the great dirt nap hadn’t exactly revived it, either….

She laughed over her own lame joke. “Wow. That’s not a sentence I ever expected to say.”

“So, are you okay with all this?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “Done freaking out?”

She shrugged and propped both hands at her waist. “I can’t promise there won’t be a relapse, but Tod’s clearly here and alive. I can’t really argue with the facts.”

I liked her already.

“So, can we sit?” Tod gestured toward the plush seating arrangement.

“Yeah.” Addy rounded one of the stiff-looking, green-upholstered armchairs and sank into it, waving a hand at the matching green-striped couch. “But my mom will be back in a few minutes, and she’s not going to take this anywhere near as well as I am.”

“No doubt,” Tod mumbled. He sat in the chair opposite Addy’s, while I took the couch. At Tod’s signal, Nash locked the door to give us warning when her mother returned, then he joined me on the couch. “You remember my brother, right?”

“Of course. Nash. It’s been a while.” She crossed her legs and smiled, as if we hadn’t come to discuss her immortal soul and impending suicide. Addison was much more poised than I would have been in her position, and I have to admit I was a little jealous of her composure. But then, maybe that was one of the advantages of being an actress.

That, and massive fame and fortune.

Her gaze slid my way, and she made actual eye contact. “And you’re Kaylee, right?”

I nodded and gave her a genuine smile. People hardly ever remembered my name after only one introduction. I was pretty forgettable. At least, when I wasn’t screaming.

Tod cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention, and I turned to see him watching Addison intently from the chair opposite hers. One impeccably solid foot tapped the thick carpet. “Addy, you can’t kill yourself,” he said, and it took the rest of us a second to absorb his abrupt launch into a conversation no one else seemed prepared for.

Addison recovered first. “Hadn’t planned to.” She shrugged and smiled, then launched into a question of her own. “So, how are you alive now, when you were dead two years ago? Did your mom freak out, or what?” Unbridled curiosity illuminated her flawless features better than any stage lights could have.

“It’s complicated.” Tod tugged briefly on the blond fuzz at the end of his chin. “I’ll tell you all about it later, but right now I just need to know you’re not going to kill yourself.” The gravity in his voice surprised me, and I’d never seen Tod look so frightened. So genuinely concerned for someone else. “Please,” he said, and that last word wrung a bruising pang of sympathy from my heart, though I wasn’t sure which of them I felt worse for: the soulless pop star with five days to live, or the reaper who would lose her again.

Addison’s brows furrowed. “I said I won’t. I love my life.” She spread her arms to take in the entire room, as if to ask who wouldn’t love her life.

Tod exhaled slowly, his features weighted by doubt and worry. He didn’t believe her. How could he, considering Libby’s inside information?

“Maybe she’s not planning it yet.” I shifted to lean against Nash’s chest. His arm wound around me, his fingers spread across my ribs, and my pulse raced in response. “Maybe whatever drives her to it hasn’t happened yet.”

Tod nodded, and his gaze went distant. “Yeah.” He turned back to Addison. “Is there anything wrong, Addy? You’re probably under a lot of stress. Is your mother pushing you into this? Are you on something? There were rumors a couple of months ago. ….”

“No.” Addison cut him off, her smile wilting like a cut flower. “Nothing’s wrong, Tod. Nothing serious, anyway. There’s pressure, but that’s true no matter who you are or what you do.”

Isn’t that the truth. …

“And am I on something …?” Her brows formed a hard line, and she clenched the arms of her chair, bracelet pressed into the upholstery. “I can’t believe you’d even ask me that, with my mom still strung out on those damn pain pills.”

Tod sighed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. I’d never seen him look so tense. So worried. “Is it bad again?”

Addy twisted her bracelet. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You sure?” Tod asked, obviously thinking the same thing I was. A strung-out parent could be a lot of stress. Especially for someone like Addison Page, for whom privacy was only a vague concept.

“As sure as I am that you’re sitting there.” Addy forced an awkward laugh at her own joke, and the reaper rolled his eyes. “Nothing’s wrong, Tod. Other than Eden collapsing onstage. We’re going to see her in a couple of minutes.” She paused and glanced at the hands now twisted together in her lap. “You guys want to come? I don’t think they’ll let you in to see her, but I could use the company.”

“Addison …” I began, but then hesitated. I’d never been the bearer of such bad news before, but someone had to tell her. “Eden died onstage.”

Addison shook her head in echo of her earlier denial. “How do you know …?” She stopped as something occurred to her, and glanced at both of the guys. “Does this have anything to do with me … killing myself?”

I deferred to Tod, unsure about that one.

“We don’t know,” he said finally. “But, Addy, I need you to promise me….”

Suddenly the doorknob turned behind us, and was followed by a wooden thunk when someone walked into the door, obviously expecting it to open. “Addy?” a woman’s nasal voice called. “What are you doing? Open the door.”

Addison stood so quickly my head spun, rubbing her palms nervously on the sides of her jeans. “Just a minute, Mom,” she called. “I’m … in the bathroom.”

I stood and pulled Nash off of the couch, my pulse racing now. No human mother—even one strung out on painkillers—would understand what we’d come to tell Addy. But Tod could go invisible, and Nash and I could pretend to be fans.

If Addison hadn’t already panicked and lied …

She glanced at the door in dread, but before she could say anything else, Tod grabbed her hand. “Addy, promise me that no matter what happens, you won’t kill yourself. Promise me.”

“I …” Addison’s gaze flicked from his face, lined in desperation, to the door, which her mother was now pounding on.

“Addison Renee Page, let me in right now! My nose is bleeding!”

“Are you okay in there?” her bodyguard called, and the knob twisted again.

Nash tugged me toward the wall, either to give the ex-couple more space or to put us out of the line of fire when the door gave way.

“Promise me!” Tod hissed, loud enough that I knew he’d gone inaudible to everyone outside the room. “You do not want to die without your soul. Trust me on this.”

Addy’s breaths came rapidly. Her jugular vein stood out in her neck, jiggling wildly in fear and confusion. Her voice was an uneven whisper. “How do you guys know about that?”

“The same way we know Eden’s dead.” Tod pulled her close, speaking almost directly into her ear, his voice low and gravelly with fear. “Addison, if you die while that hellion has your soul, he’ll give you form in the Netherworld and will own you forever. Forever, Addy. He’ll feed on your pain. He’ll slice you open and let you bleed. He’ll wear your intestines around his neck and peel your skin off inch by inch while you scream.”

Tears formed in Addison’s eyes, and her hands began to shake as she tried to push Tod away. But he wasn’t done. “He’ll twist your sanity with your own memories. He’ll exploit your every fear, and every twinge of guilt you’ve ever felt. Then he’ll heal you—inside and out—and start all over again.”