Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers)

Chapter 10



Jordan’s ear-piercing scream sliced through me like a knife. I raced to the railing to look over with horror. Julie had crashed onto a food court table and now lay there, her limbs at awkward, unnatural angles.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, my throat closing. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, what I’d just witnessed happen right in front of me.

Chaos swept through the first floor, through the whole mall. Screams and cries of horror filled the air, and a rush of bodies swarmed around Julie.

“Why?” The anguished word wrenched from Jordan’s throat as she gripped the railing next to me. “What happened? Why would she do that?”

I couldn’t speak. And nothing I said would help this make any sense.

I stayed with Jordan as we hurried downstairs, but it was too late. The fall had killed Julie. The ambulance attendants confirmed she was dead. Jordan started to sob, and she clutched onto me tightly as if she needed something—anything—to anchor her.

Making everything that much worse was the fact that down here, so close to the swell of people who’d witnessed Julie’s suicide, my hunger didn’t let up for a moment. My heart pounded, and I put some distance between myself and Jordan and everyone else as soon as I could, trying to think. Trying to rationalize what happened.

I failed.

Nothing could explain this. Nothing could make it better.

The police arrived and asked Jordan some questions.

“I don’t know why she did it.” Jordan’s words were raspy, her face tear stained. “She was fine. All day. All week. She wasn’t upset or anything. But she—she just lost it.”

The police officer took her statement, then they took mine, which was basically the same thing. A teenager had committed suicide in public.

I didn’t like Julie, but I never would have wished for something like this to happen to her.

It wasn’t right. Seventeen was way too young to die.

Jordan was in shock. She’d stopped talking and just started to tremble. I directed her away from the food court and into an alcove of the mall. She pressed her back up against the wall and called her father to come pick her up. She was in no shape to drive home.

I gave her the bottle of water I had in my leather bag. She took it from me with shaking hands and took a sip. She didn’t complain that it was room temperature.

“It’s my fault,” she said, her voice hollow and broken. “She was so happy about the modeling agent. I felt bad about Stephen so I had to bring her down. And—and this happened.”

She’d sunk down to the floor, her long legs pulled tight up against her chest. I braced my shoulder against the wall. My hunger swirled the longer I stayed in this busy mall, but I couldn’t just abandon her here. Not like this.

“It’s not your fault,” I assured her. But really, I didn’t know what had triggered Julie to end everything in such a horrible, final way. “Was she depressed? Like not just today, but maybe clinically depressed and on medication?”

“No.” She frowned. “I mean, I don’t think so. She never said anything to me.” She drew in a ragged breath. “I didn’t even know she was still into Colin. I should have known. She was my best friend.”

My heart clenched for her. “Is there anything I can do?”

Finally, this seemed to break through to her. Her brows drew together and she looked up at me through red, puffy eyes. Her perfectly applied makeup was only a memory now. Her gaze hardened. “It’s probably your fault this happened.”

I stepped back, my stomach souring. “You know I had nothing to do with that. I barely knew Julie.”

“You stole Stephen from me. And now my best friend is dead.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Anything else you want to destroy today?”

My face burned from her words as if she’d struck me, but I refused to hit back. Not this time. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Jordan. I know how much you cared about her.”

There was nothing I could say to make it better. It looked like I could only make it worse by staying. So I left.

If I’d seen any signs of what was going to happen—what Julie was going to do—I would have done whatever it took to stop her. But as the moment played over and over in my mind on my way home, I couldn’t think of any clues to what triggered her mood change. One moment she was fine, the next she was suicidally depressed.

Like a switch had been flicked in her head.

Every time I closed my eyes I saw her falling over the side of the railing, like a song on repeat. Over and over.

Between Stephen’s chilling revelations of what was to come for grays, to eavesdropping on Bishop’s conversation about inconvenient addictions, to Julie’s suicide, I couldn’t deal with anything else right now. I especially couldn’t handle being around anyone who triggered my hunger.

I went directly home and locked the door behind me, dropping down to the floor, and finally released the sobs I’d been trying so hard to hold inside.

* * *

For the rest of the day, I did my best to avoid the world. It was my new hobby. It served me well for six hours of solitude. However, the pizza delivery guy had smelled much better than the pizza had, which was so unsettling I barely managed to eat more than half the pizza.

Mom called to say she’d arrived at her fabulous resort in Honolulu, and was going to start exploring immediately. Even long distance she sounded every bit as thrilled about her spontaneous trip as she had here. Angelic influence had some serious staying power. I missed her, but I told her to have a good time and not to worry about me.

After the call, I distractedly flipped through Catcher in the Rye, our current read in English. I’d read it before, so all I really had to do was refresh my memory.

It was late when Cassandra got back. The angel went directly to the refrigerator to get herself something to eat—more Chinese food leftovers.

From the kitchen doorway, I warily watched her prepare a plate. She looked over her shoulder at me, and her eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t tell me you kissed Bishop,” she said. There was accusation in her tone.

I cringed. “Good evening to you, too.”

She put her plate down and spun to face me, her eyes flashing with blue light. “Do you know how dangerous that was?”

Her words were harsh and unexpected. My eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her brows drawing together. She drew closer to me. “I’m sure you know it’s dangerous. I don’t have to tell you.”

“I didn’t know he had a soul at the time. Neither did he.” Not much of an excuse, but it was true.

Her frown remained as she studied me. “You’re upset.”

I inhaled shakily and ran my hand under my nose. “You could say that.”

“Why?”

“Oh, let me think.” I tried not to sound sarcastic, but failed. “I’m a soulless monster you and your buddies have the authority to knife in the heart at any given moment.” I chose not to share what I’d learned from Stephen—or even that I’d seen him. Not yet. And not with her. “Other than that, I—I witnessed somebody kill herself today.”

Her face blanched. “Kill herself?”

I nodded. “It was terrible. Right in front of me. She jumped to her death.”

Her mouth worked, but nothing came out for a moment. “Just like that. No warning?”

“No.”

I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat.

“Where were you?”

“The Trinity Mall. I’m sure it’ll be in the paper tomorrow. Probably already on the internet tonight.” I shivered.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it. Her grave expression didn’t change. “I’m sorry you had to witness something like that. You’ve had to deal with so much.”

All I could offer was a meager shrug. “I just wish I could have stopped her.”

“Some things can’t be stopped.”

Cassandra didn’t touch her food, instead throwing it in the garbage as if she’d lost her appetite. I wasn’t sure what to make of her change in mood.

“I’m going to bed,” I said. It was late. I was tired. And whether I liked it or not, I had school tomorrow.

“You need to stay away from him,” she said as I turned to leave the kitchen.

I froze and looked over my shoulder at her. “Who?”

She just looked at me patiently. “Bishop’s mind isn’t working right because of his fall—because of the burden of his soul. He tries very hard to ignore this and do his job anyway, but if he was fully lucid, he’d see the risk of being anywhere near you.”

I grappled for something to say. “I don’t want to hurt him. It’s the last thing I want.”

“If you’re not careful, that’s exactly what you’ll do.”

There wasn’t anything else to say, or nothing that came immediately to mind. I escaped to my bedroom with thoughts racing, and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

After failing to get any real answers out of Stephen, I was at a temporary loss with my plan of action. I’d have to look for him. Maybe he’d contact me again.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Too many maybes.

Tomorrow was Monday. I had school bright and early. I hadn’t given up hope so much that I planned to start cutting classes. Going to school represented my continuing hold on my future—and that I had a future to hold on to. Despite any drama I faced outside of McCarthy High, I’d keep up my grades so I could go to my first choice college next year. One day, my life would be far outside of the Trinity city limits.

It would happen.

I sat at my vanity table and brushed all the tangles out of my long, wild mane of hair. I planned to get it cut to a more manageable length so I wouldn’t always have to pull it back into a ponytail, but I hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

I stared at my reflection for a long time, trying to see some sign of the supernatural in my eyes. I knew it had to be there, since I had enough of it swirling around inside of me, but they looked the same as always. Brown. And currently filled with anxiety.

The room was stifling. I’d cranked the heat when I got home and despite my constant chills, I desperately needed some fresh air. I went to the window and pushed it open, inhaling deeply. It made me shiver, but the cold October air helped clear some of the fog from my head.

Then I turned to my bed and grabbed the sheets—but I froze in midpull.

After staying at a low level ever since getting back home from the mall, my hunger suddenly surged to the forefront. My breath caught and held as I sensed his presence.

“You shouldn’t leave your window open,” Bishop said. “Anyone might be able to get in.”

I spun to face him, my eyes wide with shock at what I was seeing. But there he stood, framed by moonlight near the open window.

A gorgeous, blue-eyed, six-foot tall angel of death was standing in my bedroom.

I grappled for something to say, anything at all. My pulse raced. “How did you...” I gestured at the window behind him, my gauzy curtains fluttering with the cool breeze. “This is the second floor and there’s no ladder or tree out there.”

My flustered reaction made him smile, an expression that shot right to my heart. “I have a few hidden talents.”

His gaze lowered to my clothes—or, rather, lack of them. My cheeks started to burn. I certainly wasn’t naked, but a snug tank top and a loose pair of sleeping shorts weren’t exactly modest.

I fought the urge to cross my arms over my chest. It wasn’t like I had that much to cover. “Why are you here?”

It sounded much ruder than I meant it. Seeing him gave me a wild inner thrill that I tried to cover, especially after my conversation—or warning—with Cassandra earlier. Seeing Bishop alone like this was dangerous. It triggered my hunger like nothing else in the world.

He shouldn’t be here and he knew it, too.

But here he was anyway.

Bishop wrenched his gaze back up to my face. It took him a moment to say something, and the weighted silence stretched between us. “I wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re all right.”

I sent a quick glance over my shoulder at my closed bedroom door. “Be quiet or Cassandra will hear us.”

He didn’t come any closer to me. He stayed by the window, which helped me keep most of my head together. “She knows what happened...between us. Did she tell you?”

I nodded. “But I already knew.”

His gaze met mine directly as he studied me, frowning. Then clarity crossed his expression. “You know, I’m really not thrilled with this handy eavesdropping skill of yours.”

I bit my bottom lip. I was so cold that goose bumps had broken out over my bare skin. I crossed them, shivering. “I can’t control it. It just happens.”

He turned to the window and closed it. “What did you hear?”

A thousand different emotions bubbled inside me and I wanted to force them down and keep my game face on. Pretend that nothing affected me. Too bad everything affected me lately. My analytical and detached view of the world around me had dropped away, leaving me completely raw and vulnerable.

Bishop affected me. Sometimes I forgot how much, when he wasn’t this close to me, but he did. His scent, his presence, his warmth—everything called to me across the six tiny feet separating us right now. I wanted to close that distance, throw my arms around him and kiss him passionately. It was a need like eating, sleeping—a primal drive I couldn’t ignore.

I gripped the baseboard of my bed, digging my short fingernails into the smooth wood, and tried to stay calm. “You said that this...what you feel for me...it’s an inconvenient addiction.” I looked at him directly. “And yet here you are at midnight in my bedroom. Not smart.”

His expression tightened. “I wish you hadn’t heard that.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I lied. “Today—it’s put a lot of things into perspective for me.” I took a deep breath. “I talked to Stephen.”

Bishop was next to me in a heartbeat, taking hold of my arms. Electricity sparked between us, making me gasp. Making him gasp.

He swore, and let go of me, taking a shaky step back. “You talked to Stephen. When? Where?”

“He called me. I met him at the mall.”

“Why didn’t you find me?”

“Because I knew if he saw you he’d bolt.” I tried to maintain my control, but it was difficult. “I wanted to convince him to give me back my soul.”

His expression was tense. “And did you?”

“I think it was possible, but...we were interrupted. He told me stuff, Bishop.” I’d kept this from Cassandra, but Bishop needed to know. “He says that super-gray yesterday—that’s what’s happening to everyone. That grays go through a stasis—they turn zombie, but it isn’t permanent like we thought. It’s just a stage. When they come out of it they’re stronger, smarter and totally sociopathic. If they don’t come out of it...they die.” Panic clawed at my chest as I related this horrible information. “It’s one or the other. Stephen wanted to warn me.”

I studied his reaction to this. It wasn’t filled with surprise, more like grim acceptance. “You already knew this, didn’t you?” I asked.

“I didn’t know for sure.”

“Well, now you do.” Another tremble went through me, and not just from being cold this time. “It’s going to happen to me.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

I let out a small snort. “You sound so certain I almost believe you.”

He raised his fierce gaze to mine. His eyes glowed with a soft blue light in the darkness of my room. “You’re different, Samantha. You’re not like the others.”

“I don’t know if who my birth mother and father is will have much to do with this particular outcome.”

He clenched his teeth, anger brightening the celestial energy in his eyes that held an edge of madness. “It has everything to do with it. And you need to keep fighting, keep resisting. You’re not like the other grays.”

“Is that why you came here? To test me? To see how controlled I am?” My voice trembled. “Because I hate to break it to you, but I’m not. Not when you’re this close to me.”

“I had to come here.”

“You had to?”

“Yes.”

I looked at him directly, raising my chin. “Then remember, when I attack you, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”