Rachel Vincent

My Soul To Keep


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I was wrong, and the implications of that settled into my gut like a brick in a bucket of water. How would a grim reaper—someone no longer bound by the limitations of mortal existence—deal with the potential competition Doug Fuller represented?

      Oh, crap!

      Someone was selling Demon’s Breath in the human world, and Tod had on-demand access to the Netherworld. Doug had sworn someone had appeared in his passenger’s seat on Saturday night when he’d hit my car, and Tod had the infuriating habit of popping in anywhere he wanted, whenever he wanted, to whomever he wanted… .

      Was it possible?

      No. I almost shook my head before I realized no one else knew what I was thinking. Tod wouldn’t do that. Not that he’d hesitate to sabotage the competition if he ever decided he was serious about Emma. But he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his job—because an unemployed reaper was a dead reaper—or Emma, one of the few humans he actually cared about.

      Still … I made a mental note to mention the possibility—however slim—to Nash the next time we were alone.

      “Hey.” Doug dropped onto the bench next to Emma, straddling the seat with his left thigh against her backside. He reached across the table to slap Nash’s hand in greeting, then turned to me. “How’s the loaner working out?”

      “Fine.” I dunked another chip and tried to hate Doug quietly, so Emma wouldn’t notice. It would be hard to protect her if she wasn’t speaking to me.

      Doug ran one hand slowly up and down Emma’s back. “What are you doing after school?”

      “Working. But then I’ll be home. Alone.”

      “Want some company?”

      “Maybe …” She bit into a cube of ham speared on her plastic fork, and Doug’s hand moved slowly beneath the table, probably working its way up her thigh. Then something behind me caught his eye, and he tossed his head at someone over my shoulder.

      I turned to find Scott Carter making his way across the cafeteria toward us, a tray in one hand, his other arm around Sophie’s thin shoulders. Scott set his tray down and sank onto the bench next to Doug. Sophie took a bruised red apple from Scott’s tray and bit into it, chewing in angry silence while she tried to avoid my eyes.

      Or maybe she was trying to avoid being seen with me.

      “We still on for this afternoon?” Scott asked Nash, twisting the lid on a bottle of Coke, then tightening it before it could fizz over. “I’m parked on the west side, near the gym.” His eyes looked a little clearer, and I could no longer smell the Demon’s Breath on him. He was coming down from his initial high, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before he’d need another fix. And what that need would look like on him.

      Would Sophie notice something was wrong? Would his teachers? His parents were still out of town… .

      “Yeah.” Nash shoved the last bite of his cafeteria hamburger into his mouth and picked up his own soda. “I’ll be there right after the last bell.”

      But Scott’s stash would not.

      “You still have what I gave you?” Doug glanced anxiously between Nash and Scott, having caught on to the subject.

      “What you sold me,” Scott corrected.

      “Whatever.” Doug finally removed his hand from

      Emma’s thigh and leaned closer to Scott. I chewed, pretending not to listen while Sophie and Emma exchanged rare twin looks of confusion. “I need to buy it back, but I can replace it this weekend.”

      Scott squirted a mustard packet on his hamburger. “I thought you were gonna have more today?”

      Doug shook his head. “Didn’t pan out. Sell me yours. I’ll pay extra.”

      “No way.” Scott shook his head and picked up his burger. Sophie and Emma weren’t even pretending to eat anymore. “But you can have a hit after school with Hudson—” he nodded in Nash’s direction “—if you give me your guy’s name and number.”

      Doug’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. “I already gave you his name, and there is no number. But I’m gonna see him this weekend for sure. I can get you another one then, if you pay up front.”

      Nash stiffened next to me, and I knew he was thinking what I was thinking. Everett. This weekend. That was our best chance.

      “Same as last time?” Scott asked, and my stomach twisted in on itself as Emma glanced at me, brows arched in question.

      “Yeah,” Doug said, and Sophie rolled her eyes, glossy pink fingernails digging into the skin of her apple.

      “I’m bored,” she whined. “You guys are like walking sedatives.”

      “You got something more interesting to talk about?”

      Scott snapped, dipping a limp French fry in ketchup. “And don’t say the Winter Carnival.”

      Sophie pouted, gesturing with her apple. “It’s on Saturday, and you guys promised you’d help with the booths this afternoon.” They all had their afternoons free, since football season had ended with a loss to the new Texas state AA champions.

      “I’m not feelin’ it, Soph.” Scott raised one brow and his frown grew into a lecherous grin. “But maybe you could convince me …” He pushed his tray across the table and leaned back, watching her expectantly.

      Sophie went from shrew to succubus in less than a second, straddling Scott so boldly that I glanced around, sure there would be a teacher stomping toward us from somewhere, intent on peeling her off.

      But no teacher came. The two on duty were busy trying to confiscate a cell phone from some senior rumored to be showing off naked pictures of his girlfriend.

      Sophie performed like a trained seal, and I was humiliated for her—because she didn’t have the sense to be—but I couldn’t look away from my cousin’s spectacle. Until Scott’s hand inched down from her waist toward the back of her overpriced jeans.

      “Sophie, that’s enough. Sit down before you get suspended.”

      The look she shot me could have frozen Satan’s crotch, but she slithered off her boyfriend’s lap, licking her lips like she could still taste him, while Doug, Scott, and the rest of the team watched her like she’d just danced around a pole. I shot Nash a “why the hell do you hang out with these jackholes” look, but he was unavailable to receive my withering glance. Because he was watching my cousin. But Emma was watching me, I told you so written clearly in her expression.

      I frowned and elbowed Nash while Sophie reapplied her lipstick with a compact mirror. “So.” She snapped the compact closed and dropped it into her purse. “Any volunteers?”

      “I’m in,” Scott said, and I understood that Sophie’s show was actually a preview of things to come. Was that how she got everything she wanted? “You guys got a couple of hours to spare this afternoon?” Scott glanced around the table for more volunteers.

      Nash nodded, but Emma leaned around Doug to answer for us both. “Kaylee and I have to work.”

      “Oh, well.” Sophie shrugged, and the bitch was back. “We’ll miss you.” her mouth said, but as usual, her eyes said something entirely different.

      When the bell rang, everyone got up to dump their trays, but Nash and I headed into the quad against the flow of smoke-scented traffic into the building, his cold fingers intertwined with mine. When the late bell rang eight minutes later, we sneaked around the outside of the school—the gym side, where there were no windows—and into the parking lot, ducking to run between the cars until we spotted Scott’s. Fortunately, he’d parked out of view from the building exit.

      The top was up on Scott’s shiny, metallic-blue convertible, and through