Soul Screamers Collection. Rachel Vincent

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      Nash climbed into the back of Emma’s metallic blue Sunfire and I took shotgun. Her car was far from new—it was a hand-me-down from one of her older sisters—yet it made mine look like an antique in comparison. However, the major advantage to Emma’s vehicle over mine was that she was actually in possession of her keys.

      I buckled as she pulled out of the lot onto a side street, barely glancing in her rearview mirror before changing lanes right in front of the first stoplight. “Give me a hint.” Em glanced sideways at me, when she really should have had her eyes on the road. “Just a little one. Is someone else going to die? Is it another cheerleader?”

      I laughed at her lighthearted inquisition.

      “Maybe you should tell her,” Tod’s voice said out of nowhere, and I jumped so hard the seat belt cut into my neck.

      “Stop doing that!” Nash shouted, and I turned to see Tod on the bench seat next to him, one finger pressed to his lips in an exaggerated “shh” signal, while his other hand pointed at Emma.

      “Sorry!” she snapped, assuming Nash was talking to her. She swerved into the right-hand lane without bothering to flick on her turn signal, and the driver of the car behind us honked, gesturing angrily. “It’s not like I’m actually wishing for more dead cheerleaders. I’m just saying, if someone has to go …”

      Tod snorted. “I like her!”

      Nash elbowed him in the side, and Emma raised both brows at him in the rearview mirror. She’d seen the gesture, but couldn’t see the reaper now holding his ribs, nor did she hear his oof of pain. “Sorry.” Nash finally met her gaze. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

      Her mouth opened, but I cut off a question I was sure we wouldn’t be able to answer. “Em, go.” I pointed out the windshield, where the cars in front of us had already driven through the intersection when the light turned green. The man behind us honked again, and Emma stomped on the gas. We lurched forward, and she forgot about Nash’s odd behavior. At least for the moment.

      “Does this have anything to do with Eden dropping dead onstage?”

      I couldn’t think of an answer fast enough, and Em’s lighthearted smile died when she realized she’d actually hit the bull’s-eye.

      “Kaylee …” Tod said from the backseat.

      “What’s wrong?” I twisted so I could see all three of the other occupants.

      “I just didn’t see the light change.” Emma slammed on the brake when the school bus in front of us slowed to a rumbling stop, the pop-out stop sign swinging away from its side.

      Of course, I wasn’t talking to her. I was talking to the uninvited, invisible reaper in her backseat.

      “I can’t get Addy and Regan alone long enough to explain the plan to them. They’re constantly surrounded by this whole entourage. Assistants, and publicists, and Security, and their mother, who, by the way—” he turned to Nash “—hasn’t changed one bit, except for a whole web of new wrinkles. She still has her nose in everything Addy does.”

      “Is there a point to this?” I looked from one brother to the other.

      “A point to what?” Emma glanced in the rearview mirror again to see what she was missing. “What is wrong with you guys today?”

      “Sorry, Em.” I turned to face her more directly. “It’s—”

      “Bean sidhe business. I know. And I’m getting pretty damn sick of the whole thing.” She smacked the steering wheel with the heel of one palm, then swerved into a right-hand turn without even touching the brake.

      I grabbed the door grip, but she only stomped on the gas again before the wheel even straightened out. “I lied to your dad last night, and I got stuck in the ticket booth with Glen ‘the human sprinkler’ Frank for four hours yesterday. And I’ve driven you around today like your own personal chauffeur. The least you could do is explain why you two are acting so weird.”

      Sighing, I glanced at Nash, then pointedly at Tod, raising my brows in question. Should we tell her?

      He shrugged, leaving the decision up to me. She was my best friend.

      I shifted to face Emma, exhaling slowly. “I don’t want you mixed up in all this. It’s dangerous.”

      She rolled her eyes, and when she turned to look at me, she accidently turned the wheel, too, and the front right tire scraped the curb. Emma didn’t seem to notice. “I’m not asking to go with you on some kind of scary field trip. I just hate being in the dark all the time.”

      I knew exactly how she felt, but before I could say anything, Tod shrugged at me, blue eyes shining in mischief. “Sounds like she wants to help. Ask if we can borrow her car. Preferably before she drives it into the side of a building …”

      “No!” Nash and I snapped in unison. Then, before Emma could get even angrier, I glared at Tod. “Show her.”

      “You sure?” He frowned, no doubt thinking of my standing order for him to stay as far from Emma as possible, and never to let her see him. I didn’t want death getting a crush on my best friend.

      “Yeah, I’m sure.”

      “Wha—” Emma started. Then she squealed, and her eyes went huge as she stared into the rearview mirror in total shock. I grabbed the wheel when her hands fell away from it, trying to keep us on the right side of the road while her foot got heavier and heavier on the gas.

      “Told you this was a bad idea,” Tod said from the backseat, as Nash growled wordlessly at him in frustration.

      “Em!” I yelled. “Hit the brake!” We were racing toward a four-way stop, where a group of tweens waited to cross the road on bicycles.

      “Who …? How …?” She blinked, then actually twisted to look into the backseat, and the car lurched forward even faster when she braced herself against the gas pedal instead of the floorboard.

      “Emma, stop!” I shouted, and she whirled around and stomped on the brake, bringing us to a screeching halt two feet from the crosswalk.

      “Okay, we probably shouldn’t have done that while she was actually driving.” Nash studied her profile in concern.

      “You call that driving?” Tod crossed his arms casually over his chest as if we hadn’t nearly flattened three kids and totaled Emma’s car.

      The tweens rode their bikes across the street, glaring at us through the windshield. The last one flipped us off, then tossed long, purple-striped hair over his shoulder and rode off, standing on his pedals.

      In the driver’s seat, Emma sat frozen, staring wide-eyed into the rearview mirror. Her chest rose and fell heavily with each breath, and her hands shook on the wheel.

      “Want me to drive?” I offered, laying one hand on her arm.

      She shook her head without taking her gaze from Tod. “I want you to tell me what the hell just happened. Who is he, and how did he get in my car?”

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