Soul Screamers Collection. Rachel Vincent

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      Addison nodded, and once she got started, the words flowed quickly, and I had to listen carefully to keep up.

      “It was two years ago, just after I turned sixteen. The Private Life of Megan Ford had just finished its first season and was up for renewal. John Dekker found me on the set on the first day of filming the second season and took me to his office. Alone. He said that the ratings were only okay so far, and that whether or not the show continued was up to me. It was my choice. But that if I wanted it badly enough, Megan Ford could be a huge hit. Make me famous. Make me rich.”

      “You sold your soul for fame and fortune?” Nash asked, contempt so thick in his voice I almost looked down to see if some had dripped on the carpet.

      Addison flinched, but Tod spoke up, his own anger rivaling Nash’s. “It wasn’t like that. Don’t you remember her family? Her dad was long gone and her mom was unemployed. Always strung out on one pill or another. They were living on Addy’s income, and Dekker told her that if she didn’t sign on the dotted line, that would all dry up. That he’d make sure she never worked again. He said her mother would go to jail for prescription drug fraud and neglect, and Addy and her little sister, Regan, would be split up in foster care.”

      Addison’s hands shook in her lap, but she added nothing to Tod’s speech. Nor did she deny any of it.

      “He scared the shit out of her, Nash.”

      “Did you tell anyone?” I asked gently, trying not to upset her any more than she already was. “Your mom?” But I knew as soon as I said it that her mother would have been no help. “A friend?”

      Addison nodded miserably. “I told Eden.” She sniffled, obviously holding back sobs. “She’d done a guest spot on the show, and we’d become friends. She said I was lucky. That they only offered that deal to the best of us. The ones with real star potential. She said she’d signed two years ago and hadn’t regretted it for a minute. And her first CD had just gone platinum. Platinum!” she repeated, glancing at Tod in desperation, begging him with her eyes to believe her. To understand her decision. “I could sign on to be a star, or I could put the entire crew out of work and let my family starve. I did it for them….”

      I saw the struggle on Nash’s face. He understood her choice. But he didn’t want to.

      However, I’d already moved on to the bigger picture.

      They only offered that deal to the best of us. Addison’s words haunted me, and their implication sent fresh chills down my spine to pool in my limbs as my teeth began to chatter.

      They’d done it before. A lot. Dekker Media was making deals with demons—and letting its teenage stars pay the price.

       7

      “WAIT, DEKKER MEDIA is blackmailing kids into selling their souls?” Nash looked as horrified as I felt.

      “Honestly, I doubt we all had to be blackmailed.” Addison leaned back in the hotel chair and ran her palms nervously over designer jeans-clad thighs.

      Nash glanced across the coffee table from her to Tod. “But how does that benefit the company?”

      “Greed, plain and simple. Right?” I looked to Addy for confirmation.

      She shrugged and swallowed thickly, like her dinner was trying to come back up. “That’s my guess. I mean, if we’re rich and famous, so are the suits and pencil pushers, right?”

      Nash frowned. “So what if their stars leave the corporation? Go mainstream, like Eden did?”

      Addison crossed her arms over her chest, probably to keep her hands from fidgeting. “Eden went mainstream on-screen two years ago, but only after six years and three contracts with Dekker, during which she brought in cash faster than any other child star in history. But she’s still on their record label, and so am I.”

      The singer inhaled deeply, as if her next words would be difficult to say. “When you sign with Dekker, even if you’re not selling your soul, you’re selling out. They get most of us before we hit puberty, and you become whatever they want you to be. They design your look, cast you in their shows, and put you in at least one made-for-TV movie a year. The movies themselves don’t make much, but the merchandising brings in some serious cash.” She sighed and began ticking points off on her fingers. “They pick the songs you’ll record, schedule your appearances, and book your tours. They’ll even choose your haircut unless your agent is a real shark. But most of the agents are in John Dekker’s pocket, too, because they want clients who have guaranteed careers.”

      So. Creepy. Dekker Media was starting to sound scarier than the Netherworld.

      “Okay, maybe I’m misunderstanding, but we’re talking about the Dekker Media, right? The child-friendly, shiny-happy sitcoms? With the cartoon squirrel and the squeaky-clean animated fairy tales? That Dekker Media is actually reaping the souls of its stars in exchange for commercial success?”

      Addison’s lip curled into a bitter smile. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

      I didn’t know how to answer. Until they grew up and went mainstream, Dekker’s stars didn’t even bare their midriffs. Yet they were all soulless shells of humanity. Irony didn’t even begin to cover it.

      And I’d thought the whole bean sidhe wail thing was weird….

      Tod shot a smile of support at Addison, and Nash rubbed his face with both hands. Acid churned in my stomach, threatening to devour me from the inside out, and the very air tasted bitter, heavy with the aftertaste of such sour words. But I had to ask.

      “Addison, how long has this been going on? This soul trafficking?”

      She shrugged and pulled a strand of white-blond hair over her shoulder, twisting the end of it as she spoke. “I don’t know, but rumor has it a couple of their stars from the fifties sold out, back when they were still broadcasting in black and white. Who was the girl who did all those bonfire slasher movies after she left Dekker?”

      “Campfire Stalker movies,” Tod corrected.

      “Yeah, those. That girl sold her soul. And she’s getting old now….” Addison’s voice trailed off, but the horror on her face was easy to read.

      “Guys, this is much bigger than we thought.” I crossed my arms over my chest, glancing from one somber, shocked face to the next. “Too big.” The thought of tracking down one hellion with a secondhand soul was scary enough. But I had no idea how to go up against the Netherworld and Dekker Media over an arrangement they’d evidently had going for more than half a century.

      All we could really do was take Addison to the Netherworld so she could enforce the out-clause.

      “So, what’s the deal with this out-clause? What happens if you ask for your soul back?”

      “They take everything.” Tod stood and waved one arm to indicate the hotel suite, and Addison’s entire career, then crossed the room toward a small refrigerator against one wall. “Everything she’s worked for will just be … gone.”

      “If she СКАЧАТЬ