Soul Thief Page 15

  He turned the book upside down so I could read it from my side of the desk. At the top of each page was the date and underneath, a bunch of names. The book only went as far as one week into the future. I was relieved that none of the names were familiar to me and that the lists weren’t very long.

  “Is there a way to stop someone from dying?”

  “There is, but that’s not really our expertise,” Leander replied. “And it costs a lot.”

  “I doubt that’s costing as in money.”

  “If you save a person’s life despite their name being mentioned in the book, or in other words, if you prevent someone’s death, there will be two consequences. One, another human has to die to keep the balance. Two, you’ll be sent to prison.”

  Now this grabbed my attention. “Heaven has prisons?”

  “The celestial prison is the last place you’d want to be locked up in. It’s about five times as bad as Alcatraz. It can only be compared to its hellish counterpart, which you’ve probably heard of before: Tantalus.”

  “What’s the name of this celestial prison?”

  “It doesn’t have one. It’s simply ‘The Prison’. Once you’re in there you can’t escape. It’s a sad, lonely place without any hope. Because of our immortality, some of us get locked up in there for centuries. It gives you time to reflect.”

  “Or write your memoirs,” I joked. The Book of Names might have temporarily distracted me from the thought of kissing him, but when he smiled at my joke the butterflies rose up in my stomach again.

  “Or that,” he said. “So, what do you think?”

  “That book is creepy. If I ever see the name of anyone I love appear in there I’m going to freak out and I might risk that celestial prison after all.”

  “The trouble with saving someone, even if you want to, is that the book gives no indication of when or how they’re going to die, just a date. Every Angel gets a name for a particular date, and then tunes in on that name. When the moment draws near, the soul will call for you instinctively and you’ll know where to go. From what I’ve heard, they’ve done that especially so that we can’t help even if we wanted to.”

  “That sucks.”

  “It balances the universe. Balance is important.”

  “Is that why Hell has Reapers? Why there are demons? To keep the balance?” I leaned back in my chair, trying to fill my mind with images of demons, vampires and the like.

  “Yes,” Leander replied. “At this point, the world is rather balanced. Hell and Heaven have a roughly equal amount of souls.”

  “Does Hell have one of these books as well?”

  “No. Demons make contracts with people. They can make all your dreams come true if only you give them their soul, or something else, but usually your soul. Demons deal in souls; they put a value on each one. One soul is worth more than others, for instance, based on the person’s bravery, their goodness, etcetera. They sell souls to each other.”

  “Ugh. Can’t we do something about that?”

  “What do you suggest?” Leander raised his arms. “It’s not as simple as charging into Hell and killing demons. Our existence is linked to theirs. Without both of us, all souls would be stuck on earth forever and I already told you what happens to ghosts.”

  “So basically we’re fighting to get as many souls as possible on our side?” I asked him. “But not too many, because that’ll tip the balance and destroy everything. Got it. Sounds like we’re playing a game that’s impossible to win.”

  “True. But we’re doing something good. Every soul we save is a soul who gets to spend their afterlife in a happy place.”

  “What happens to souls being traded by demons?”

  “They’re in Hell, literally. They’ll suffer the worst pain imaginable. For a soul to spend time in Hell equals torture. Demons like to twist souls too, change and corrupt them until they lose all humanity they may have had.”

  Well, this conversation had certainly helped to liquidate all remaining butterflies in my stomach. “That disturbing news tells me it’s been enough for today. My parents will be home soon anyway.”

  “Okay,” Leander said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I was thinking we may be able to practice your mental powers so last night doesn’t repeat itself.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said as I got up. “And you know what I said about taking a walk home earlier?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I changed my mind. You can give me a ride home, if you like.”

  “So it’s true then,” he said, “what I suspected.”

  “What?”

  “That you only go for a walk when you feel troubled.”

  Chapter 21

  KATIE WAVED AT ME from a spot in the back of the cafeteria. I nodded to indicate I’d seen her and then walked over to our little gang.

  “Hey,” Katie said as I approached the table. “How was history class?”

  “Mr. Dudley thought there was no time like the present to torture us about agriculture in the Middle Ages,” I said as I sat down. “I love the Middle Ages as much as the next person but when you’ve got the Hundred Years War to talk about, the Cousins War, and church supremacy, then agriculture is kind of lame.”

  “Oh, you took spaghetti,” Craig said, staring at my plate with a longing expression on his face. “I was in the mood for that too.”

  “Then why did you pick ravioli?”

  “Because I’m an idiot,” he responded, poking his food with a fork.

  “You can have mine,” I said.

  All three of them stared at me as if I’d suddenly grown another head. Michelle’s expression darkened and she narrowed her eyes. Katie’s mouth nearly dropped to the floor.

  “Since when does the great Riley Scott, the person who can single-handedly eat seven hamburgers and not even feel uncomfortable, switch her food with anyone?”

  “Are you saying I’m gluttonous?” I asked them.

  “Yeah, you are,” Katie responded. “Remember when I wanted a handful of popcorn from you when we watched The Notebook last month and you slapped my hand?”

  “You already stole half my popcorn.”

  “There’s no need to defend yourself, we all know food makes you crazy,” Craig said. “The question is why are you not freaking out right now?”

  I shrugged while we switched plates. “No reason.”

  “You’re acting strange,” Katie said. “Something happened this weekend. Must’ve been Sunday, because you were still acting normal when we went out, besides the whole being stood up crap… oh my God,” she said, as her face lit up. “He called you on Sunday, didn’t he?”

  A blush crept up my cheeks and I stared at my food.

  “Wow!” Katie’s jaw dropped to the table. “Looks like he did more than just call you.”

  Michelle’s eyes went wide. “What did you…?”

  “Relax. I didn’t do anything weird, we just… kissed.”

  Katie cat-whistled and Craig smiled from ear to ear. Michelle’s expression grew even more worried.

  “You kissed! I’ll need details,” Katie said.

  “It’s no big deal. Nothing happened besides that.”

  “Well, thank God!” Michelle snapped. “I don’t like him at all. He’s a fake and I have no idea why you’re covering for him. I thought you were smarter than that.”

  Her comment stung but I knew she wouldn’t act this way if she knew the truth.

  “Shut it, Mich,” Katie said. “What are you taking about? Why would he be a fake?”

  “Never mind,” Michelle said. She focused back on her food, but the mood had turned icy.

  Craig cleared his throat. “Well, in an effort to change the subject, let’s talk about the third mysterious death in our town this month.”

  “What the heck are you talking about?” I asked him.


  “Don’t you read newspapers?” Craig shook his head and took out his smart phone. He tabbed on the keyboard and handed me the phone. The article headline read “Third teenage girl dead from heart attack.”

  I scrolled through the article. A young girl named Marissa Meyers, whose name sounded faintly familiar, had died in her sleep Saturday night. She had no prior signs of any heart problems and she was perfectly healthy before she went to bed.

  “You’re kidding me,” I said, handing the phone back. “No way I’m buying that. How could three sixteen-year-olds die from a heart attack in two weeks?”

  “Yeah, and get this,” Craig said, leaning closer as if he were sharing some kind of conspiracy theory. “All the girls were perfectly fine before they went to sleep. Their parents never heard anything, no screams for help, nada. All of them were girls too.”

  “You think we have some kind of psycho killer hanging around town?” Katie asked, her eyes turning wide. She shivered. “One who’s targeting teenage girls? That’s messed up.”

  I swallowed hard when I read the address of this girl, Marissa Meyers. She went to Fairhaven Community High School, which was why I didn’t know her, but she lived only a few houses away from the club we’d visited Saturday night. I figured I’d better not share that information with the others though.

  “But how does he do it? The articles didn’t mention any signs of burglary,” I said.

  “No, and that’s why they thought they were heart attacks at first,” Craig said. “But my Dad says they’re not so sure anymore. Apparently the doctors can’t agree about the heart attacks either. He said some medical mumbo-jumbo I understood next to nothing about, but the point was that it looked like a heart attack, but it wasn’t.”

  “Ew,” Katie said. “Maybe the killer injected them with drugs and that’s how they died.”

  “They’d find puncture marks then,” Craig said. “But maybe they haven’t looked for them yet.”

  The mentioning of puncture marks got Michelle’s attention. She blinked and stared at me, as if wondering if maybe I’d almost got caught by the same culprit. I could almost see the wheels in her brain working and turning to reach that conclusion.

  “Or maybe we’re exaggerating and seeing ghosts,” I said. “Maybe it’s an odd coincidence.”

  “It could be due to something environmental,” Katie said. “Like maybe they all lived in the same neighborhood, or they went to the same after-school hobbies and they got in touch with it there.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s freaky,” Craig said. “My Dad has been diving into the case non-stop ever since we heard about this last girl.” His Dad worked at the police station as a deputy, so Craig usually had the inside scoop on these things.

  “Hold on,” I said. “When exactly did she die?”

  “Saturday night,” Craig replied. “Why?”

  The Book of Names. I’d browsed through it yesterday, looked at the future week and the past week, but I hadn’t seen her name in there.

  You probably overlooked it, stupid. The Book of Names is like this godly instrument, it doesn’t make mistakes.

  “No reason,” I said, while I took another bite of ravioli. “So what are you guys doing after school today?”

  “Not much,” Katie replied. “Finishing homework for the next couple of days, hopefully. Myron and I are going on a date Wednesday, so I want to make sure I don’t have any last-minute homework to take care of.”

  That brought the conversation back to regular stuff and away from dead girls. But the name kept bugging me, and by the time we finished lunch I wanted nothing more than to run out of there and go check The Book of Names.

  But even if the name wasn’t in there, I had no idea what that could mean.

  * * *

  Life wasn’t my friend. Our biology teacher, fittingly named Mr. Green, since he always kept babbling about nature, green energy and all that, gave us a group assignment. Because he loved animals but hated humans and wanted to punish us for all humanity’s mistakes, he gave us a deadline two days away. Stacey was the only student I knew in my biology class, so I was relieved when she asked to team up, but not so relieved when she asked if we could meet after school in the library.

  Even worse, Leander had gone AWOL again. He’d texted me saying an emergency had come up and that he couldn’t meet me during school, but he’d meet me later that night. Bugger, but at least it meant not skipping class.

  After the last bell rang I headed toward the library, wondering what the emergency could’ve been. To my surprise, Stacey was already there, unloading her biology book from her backpack.

  “Hey!” she said the moment she saw me. “How are you? I didn’t get a chance to ask during class.”

  “I’m fine. A little bummed we have to do this thing on such short notice.” I sat down next to her and took out my biology book as well. “How are you?”

  “I’m great. You haven’t taken me up on my offer to talk, so I guess you’re dealing with what happened on your own?”

  I nodded, unsure of what to say.

  “Well, that’s good,” she said. “At least you have that school therapist to talk to about it, right?”

  “Yep, he’s been great.” To be honest, I probably would have been a lot more shocked by the accident if I hadn’t found out about everything else right after, but I wasn’t about to share that with her.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” she said. “I wanted to invite you to my party this weekend. There’s a project at community high school dealing with cancer awareness, organized by one of my best friends. Well, maybe boyfriend,” she added with a sparkle in her eyes.

  “Wow,” I said. “Maybe congratulations then.”

  “Haha. Well, either way, I told him I’d throw a fundraising party. People can donate whatever they want to the project; even a dollar would be great.”

  “Do you do that often?” I asked. “Throw fundraising parties?”

  “My parents host them all the time. This is the first one I’m throwing, but it can’t be all that different from a regular party, right?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve never even been to one. But sure, I can spare a dollar or even a bit more.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I want it to be a success.”

  “Tell me about this maybe boyfriend of yours. Is he cute?” I asked.

  “Oh, he’s unbelievably cute. His name is Damian and we’re just friends right now but I’d totally dig it if we became something more. He’s sensitive and caring, and really unlike other guys.”

  “He sounds great. You’ll have to introduce us at your party.”

  “Will do,” Stacey said. “So are you coming? You can ask the others as well.”

  “Sure. We’ll be there.”

  “Great. Now, on to biology.” We both looked at each other and groaned simultaneously before we got to work.

  An hour later, we were halfway done with the assignment and I was growing more and more impatient with every passing minute.

  “Are you okay?” Stacey asked. “You look nervous. That’s probably the fourth time you’ve looked at your watch in the last minute.”

  “I actually have to get going,” I said, which was mostly a lie. Leander hadn’t texted me yet to talk about when we’d meet, but curiosity was getting the better of me. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” she said, all smiles. “We can work on it again tomorrow.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll meet you after school.”

  “Wait,” she said as she got up. “I’m going to call it quits too. Need a ride?”

  I could just as easily walk but I’d seen her red convertible in the parking lot before and always wanted to give it a shot. I’d dreamed about a car like that for as long as I could remember, but of course neither I nor my parents would ever be able to afford it. “Sure,” I said. “I’d love to.”r />
  * * *

  “Cool place,” Stacey said as she parked the car in front of Leander’s house. “Yours?”

  “I wish. No, a friend of mine lives here.”

  “I see,” she said. “Well, talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Bye.” I shut the car door, waved at her, and waited until she left to walk through the front garden. When I walked past the spot where Leander and I had kissed, a shiver ran down my spine.

  I rang the bell and waited, hopping on the balls of my feet. It took a while but eventually footsteps echoed from inside the house. Good, because I’d been ready to break in any time now.

  To my surprise, Diane opened the door. She’d dyed her hair a darker color red and she wore a loose-fitting cowboy shirt, jeans, and tall boots. “Well, if it isn’t our latest prodigy,” she said, not entirely unfriendly.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist,” she said, as she moved to let me in. “I was just here to get my assignments for this week. Turns out I’m not the only guest.”

  I frowned as I followed her into the house. “Who else?”

  “The great and mighty Seraphyn,” Diane said, and this time her voice was soaked with venom. “Between you and me, she’s a real bitch.”

  “And she’s here?” My heart formed a tiny little rock in my chest.

  “She’s been here for over two hours. They’ve been in Leander’s office, talking about God knows what.”

  “Sounds like you’re not that fond of her.”

  “Trust me, she’s bad news. She’s an egotistical, self-important maniac. She used to be this all-powerful Archangel but now she’s just a mere Council member, and somehow her downfall made her become even more annoying. Want something to drink?” she asked when we walked into the living room. “Bourbon?”

  “I’m underage.”

  “So?”

  “Fine, but just a little.”

  She poured me a glass of bourbon and handed it to me, then sat down on the couch next to me.