Soul Screamers Collection. Rachel Vincent

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      Then I heard it.

      “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, and his voice had gone soft and dangerous.

      “I don’t answer to you, Nash.”

      “Get out of my room, get out of this house, and stay away from Kaylee. Or I swear we’ll show up at the hospital tomorrow and make your entire shift a living hell.”

      I froze in the middle of my fuzzy purple rug, horrified by the very thought of standing between a reaper and his intended harvest. “Nash, he was doing us a favor.” But they both ignored me.

      “You come to my work again, and I’ll haunt your ass like the ghost of Christmas past!” Tod snapped.

      “That was a one-night haunting,” Nash mumbled, but the reaper made no reply, and finally Nash sighed. Then springs squeaked as he dropped onto what I assumed was his couch. “He’s gone.”

      “Why didn’t you tell me he was dead?”

      “Because I was already throwing information at you left and right, and I was afraid one more supernatural fact of life might really freak you out.”

      “No more secrets, Nash.” Irritated now, I sank onto the rug and plucked at the twisty purple threads in the dim glow of my lamp. “I’m not fragile. From now on, tell me everything.”

      “Okay. I’m sorry. You want to know about Tod?” His voice went distant, as if he regretted offering before he’d even finished speaking the words.

      I crawled onto my bed and turned off the touch lamp, then lay with one cheek on the cool surface of my pillow. “Not everything. But at least what’s relevant to me.”

      Nash exhaled deeply, and I could almost feel his reluctance. Part of me wanted to take it back, to tell him he didn’t owe me any answers. But I didn’t, because the other half of me insisted I needed those answers. Tod’s behavior scared me, and if Nash had information that could help me understand what I was getting into, I wanted it.

      “I’ve known him forever,” Nash began, and I went still to make sure I didn’t miss anything. It was weird in the best possible way, talking to him in the middle of the night, in the dark, in my bed. His voice was intimate, almost like he was whispering in my ear. And that very thought made my pulse whoosh harder and warmed me all over.

      “We used to be close. Then he died a few years ago, and the reapers recruited him. He took the job because that’s the only way to stay here. With the living. But he had a hard time adjusting to the work.” Nash paused, then his voice became almost wistful. “That’s why I thought he’d be able to help you understand death—that it’s a necessary part of life. Because he went through the same thing, wanting to save everyone. But he got over it, Kaylee, and his adjustment came with serious consequences. He doesn’t think about things the way we do anymore. Doesn’t have the same values and concerns. He’s truly a reaper now. Dangerous.”

      I frowned, thinking of what I now knew about Tod that Nash didn’t. “Maybe he’s not as dangerous as you think. Maybe he just needs … company.”

      “He broke into my house to find your phone number. If he were human, I’d have him arrested. As it is, there isn’t much I can do, short of ratting on him to his boss.” Which was as good as killing Tod. “I swear, if he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him myself. I’m sorry, Kaylee. I should never have taken you to him.”

      Alone in my room, I sighed and turned onto my left side, holding the phone at my right ear. “He got the information for us.”

      “Plus a little, it sounds like.” Nash exhaled heavily, and seemed to be calming down.

      I sat up in my bed and slid my cold feet beneath the blankets. “He was trying to help.”

      “That’s the thing—he’s not a bad guy. But since the …Change he only helps on his own terms, and won’t do anything that doesn’t benefit him. Putting yourself in debt to someone like that—especially to a reaper—is a very bad idea. We should have figured it out without his help.”

      I had no idea what to say. Yes, Tod had crossed a very important line. Several lines, in fact. But by Nash’s own admission, the reaper wasn’t a bad person. And he’d come through for us—in a manner of speaking.

      Springs groaned as Nash shifted in his seat. “So what’s the plan? We still don’t know who the next girl will be, or if there will even be one.”

      I squeezed my eyes shut, unsure how he’d react to my news. “I called in the cavalry.”

      “The what?”

      “My uncle. And my dad.” Feeling mostly awake now, I touched my lamp again, and the room got brighter. “Uncle Brendon said they’d find out what was going on if I promised to stay out of it.”

      Nash gave a gravelly chuckle that sent a bolt of heat blazing through me. “I knew I liked your uncle.”

      I smiled. “He’s not bad. All the lying aside. I’ll tell them about the list in the morning.”

      “Fill me in at the memorial?”

      “On the drive, assuming you still want a ride.” A warm feeling trickled through me at the thought of seeing him again.

      “I would love a ride.”

       15

      IN THE MORNING, I woke to find daylight streaming into my room between the slats of the blinds, and my bedroom door shaking and thumping beneath someone’s fist. “Kaylee, get your lazy butt out of bed!” Sophie shouted. “Your dad’s on the phone.”

      I rolled over, pulling the covers askew, and glanced at the alarm clock on my nightstand. 8:45 a.m. Why would my father call when he’d see me in less than an hour? To tell me he’d landed? Or that he hadn’t landed.

      He wasn’t coming. I should have known.

      For a moment, I ignored my cousin and stared at the thick crown molding along the edge of the tiered ceiling, letting my temper simmer just beneath the surface. I hadn’t seen my father in more than eighteen months, and now he wasn’t even going to come explain why he’d never told me I wasn’t human.

      Not that I needed him. Thanks to his cowardice, I had a perfectly good set of guardians at my disposal. But he owed me an explanation, and if I wasn’t going to get it in person, I could at least demand it over the phone.

      I tossed the covers back and stepped into the pajama pants pooled on the floor, and when I opened my door, there stood Sophie, completely dressed and in full makeup, looking as fresh and well-put-together as I’d ever seen her. The only sign that her night’s slumber had been chemically induced was the slight puffiness around her eyes, which would probably be gone within the hour.

      The last time I’d taken one of the zombie pills, I’d woken up looking like roadkill.

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