Before I Wake

by Rachel Vincent

  Tod was in my desk chair when I shuffled into my room in my Grinch slippers. “How much of that did you hear?”

  “Enough. You were cute.”

  He scowled. “I am not cute. I am the dreaded Grim Reaper. People fear me, you know. There’s a whole song about it.”

  “Only because they don’t know about the dimples. People don’t fear a man with dimples.”

  “Levi’s a nine-year-old with red hair and freckles, and you’d have to be crazy not to fear him.”

  “I have been called crazy a few times.”

  “Seriously. What did you hear?”

  I turned and gave him a secretive smile. “I heard you ask my dad for his blessing to be with me, in your own way.”

  Tod covered his embarrassment with a heated glance at the tank top and shorts I slept in. Back when I used to sleep. “You should have heard the things I didn’t ask his blessing for… .”

  “What things would those be?”

  “Things we’re not allowed to do under his roof.” He stood and I let him pull me close, and little sparks shot through my stomach, like they had the very first time we’d kissed, and I hoped that it would always be like this. That every time either of us lost something or someone, we’d still have each other, and that would be enough to make forever worth shooting for.

  “Is that why you got a roof of your own?” I teased, watching the lazy swirls of contentment in his eyes, and beneath those, the tighter, faster coils of blue that said how badly he wanted me, in every possible sense of the word.

  “Well, that, and so I’d have somewhere safe to plug in my cell phone. Someone turned it in to the lost-and-found at the hospital last week.”

  “Mr. Hudson, if you can’t keep up with your own cell phone, how is my father supposed to trust you not to lose his only daughter?”

  “Are you suggesting I clip you to my waistband, like a phone?”

  “I don’t think I’d fit.”

  “Let’s give it a try.” He lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around him, glad no one else could hear us, because we needed this. This one moment of happiness in the midst of so much pain and fear. “Feels like a good fit to me,” he said, and the heat in his eyes made me burn inside, all over, but instead of putting out the fires, I wanted to stoke the flames.

  I kissed him, feeding from his mouth as he walked us toward the bed, and I knew in that moment that I would never need another sustenance. Tod was more than enough, and he was all I wanted. And I wanted all of him.

  He lowered me to the bed, and my heart raced, and only when he stood to pull his shirt off did I realize we were no longer in my room. Or anywhere else in my house. I propped myself up on my elbows and lifted both brows in question, and Tod shrugged with a wicked smile. “I respect your dad too much to do this under his roof, but I love you too much not to continue this under my own.”

  “We promised not to…” I started, but then he crawled onto the bed with me and I ran my hands over his stomach. I couldn’t help it.

  “You promised. I never promised. Besides, I told him I’d probably make more mistakes. But my hands are in the right place.”

  “Heart,” I corrected. “Your heart’s in the right place.”

  “Yeah, but my hands are in an even better place.”

  And so they were.

  19

  BY SOME MIRACLE, no one noticed us missing, and when we blinked back into my room an hour later, everyone else was sound asleep. So Tod and I borrowed some of my dad’s DVDs and we watched a Predators marathon on my laptop, curled up together on my bed.

  In the morning, my dad made good on his threat to take the first shower, then he started frying bacon. I pitched in with the pancakes while Tod fried eggs, and the morning was off to a surreal start.

  Em woke up at a quarter to eight and started to panic over the late hour. She’d woken up both Nash and Sophie before my dad could explain that no one had to go to school. Which was news to me, too.

  “We’re taking the day off,” he announced from the kitchen doorway, wielding a greasy spatula and wearing the apron I’d given him for his birthday. “Since Avari showed up at school, I’m deeming the campus unsafe—at least for the moment.” He, Uncle Brendon, Harmony, and Madeline had called in sick for me, Sophie, Nash, and Luca. Then my dad had used his Influence over the phone to get the attendance secretary to write in medical absences for both Sabine and Emma.

  “Today, we’re spending the day at the lake,” my father said. “All together, for safety in numbers, to make sure that what happened to Alec won’t happen to any of the rest of us.”

  Tod’s hand slipped into my grip and squeezed. He was reminding me not to blame myself—not to let Avari benefit from what he’d done—but that was hard, because Avari hadn’t done it alone. I’d helped.

  “Doesn’t that seem kind of…cold?” Em asked. “Taking a day off to go to the lake when Alec hasn’t even been buried yet?”

  My father nodded and set his spatula on the counter. When he turned to face us again, I read confliction in his frown lines and determination in the smooth swirls of color in his eyes. “I know most of you are probably very upset over Alec’s death. As am I. That’s how I know that the temptation to mourn him is overwhelming, and that’s normal.”

  “I never even met him,” Sophie mumbled, and Sabine shoved her in the shoulder, a wordless warning to shut the hell up and respect the dead.

  “But today should be about celebrating his life and remembering what he meant to those of us who knew him. That’s what he’d want, and that’s exactly what Avari and his hellion pals will not want, and this is a really good chance to piss them off.” My father glanced at me then, and I was surprised to see a hint of a smile haunting the corners of his mouth. “Also, today is Kaylee’s birthday.”

  “Oh, shit!” I said, and my dad frowned at me. Seventeen and dead, and I still wasn’t allowed to cuss in front of him. “I forgot about my birthday.” Again.

  “Well, I didn’t. I rented one of the picnic areas at the lake. Harmony’s going to meet us there at eleven with burgers and hot dogs, cupcakes, and enough brownies to exhaust the world’s supply of cocoa powder for a month. We’re bringing chips, soda, buns, and this very spatula.” He picked up the spatula on the counter for emphasis. “So, everybody get up, deflate your air mattresses and roll up your sleeping bags, take showers—one at a time, please—and get dressed. Food’s on the bar. Serve yourselves.”

  “Can I invite Jayson?” Emma asked, and my father glanced at me, deferring to my judgment. Because it was my party. Evidently.

  I shrugged. “Sure.” There’d be plenty of room at the lake to avoid the one human who wasn’t supposed to hear about the basket of crazy trauma my life had become.

  While Sabine, Em, and Sophie argued over bathroom access, Tod snagged a slice of bacon and pulled me aside. “I’m gonna go shower at my place to save time,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” He kissed me, and I took a bite of his bacon. “Happy birthday.”

  But instead of blinking out of the kitchen, he dropped onto the couch next to Nash, and I had to strain to hear them over the three-way girl-squabble in the hall. “Did you know it was her birthday?”

  “Of course, I knew,” Nash said, meeting the reaper’s gaze boldly.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why didn’t you not-steal my girlfriend the day before she died?”

  I sighed and went into the kitchen for another slice of bacon. Some things were just going to take a while.

  * * *

  We didn’t actually make it to the lake until nearly noon, and by the time we got there, Harmony already had charcoal stacked like a pyramid in the grill attached to the covered picnic area my dad had reserved. “This is how my husband used to do it,” she said when my dad approached wielding a spatula and a set of tongs. “But that’s as far as I go. The grill’s all yours.”

  “Is Brendon coming?” my dad asked softly, and I glanced at them in surprise. Why would
he need to ask her if his own brother was coming to the lake? Had he and my uncle had an argument?

  “He said he’d swing by after work,” Harmony said, and the slight flush to her cheeks said much more than her words had.

  “What’s wrong?” Tod asked, snatching a chip from the open bag on the table in front of me.

  I pulled him close enough to whisper, though no one else could hear me, anyway. “I think your mom’s going out with my uncle.”

  Tod laughed. “Yeah. For a couple of months now. Do not ask me how I know.”

  “See something you didn’t want to see?”

  “Occupational hazard.”

  “Is that why he left Sophie at my house last night?”

  “He left at, what, nine?” Tod asked, and I nodded. “Mom doesn’t have to be at work till eleven.” He scowled. “Great. Now I need something more pleasant to purge the unwanted visual. Kittens on fire should do the trick.”

  “Does Sophie know?” I asked, and Tod shrugged, but I knew the answer before I’d even finished the question. She didn’t know. Nash didn’t, either. If either of them knew, we’d have heard about it during the sleepover.

  While my dad and Harmony talked over the grill, Tod, Em, and I sat at the end of the dock with our feet dangling over the water, staring out at the lake while we waited for the burgers to cook. “This is weird,” Em said. “I can’t believe he’s gone.” She pushed her hair behind her shoulders and pulled her knees up to her chest. “If Alec were here, what do you think he’d be doing?”

  “Sitting on the picnic table, eating all the cupcakes,” Tod said.

  “Telling us how, in the Netherworld, cupcakes are stuffed with entrails and bile instead of cream,” I added, and I could see him saying that so clearly in my head I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “That’s kinda true, though,” Tod said with a sad smile. “Over there, we are the cupcakes. Human cupcakes.”

  And Alec would have been able to make us laugh about even such a horrific truth—if I hadn’t cut him open and spilled his bloody filling all over us both.

  Fresh tears filled my eyes and I was trying to wipe them away without looking like I was wiping them away when a dark blue sedan squealed into the parking lot, spitting gravel beneath its wheels before swinging into the space between my car and my dad’s. Em stood and took off down the dock. “Jayson’s here!” she called over her shoulder, and I was glad, because now there was someone to comfort her, too, even though Jayson had never met Alec.

  “What do you think the appeal is?” Tod said as we watched Jayson get out of his car, grinning like he’d just ridden his first roller coaster. Evidently skipping school was a new thrill for him.

  Emma threw her arms around him and kissed him, and he looked surprised by the enthusiasm of her greeting. I wasn’t, though. She’d felt like a fifth wheel—or maybe a seventh wheel—for the past eighteen hours.

  “I don’t know, but I hope the appeal is that he’s normal. Both human and alive. I’ve dragged her into enough weird and dangerous crap this year.”

  “She would have come willingly, if you hadn’t dragged her,” Tod insisted. “She’s your best friend. Is there anything you wouldn’t do for her?”

  “No…”

  “Well, that’s obviously mutual.”

  When I looked up, I found Emma dragging Jayson down the pier, their footsteps shaking the boards beneath us. Em dropped onto the end of the dock next to me, and Jayson sat on her other side with a nod and a “Hey” to Tod.

  Tod returned the casual greeting, and I almost laughed out loud. His regular-guy act was good enough to fool anyone who didn’t know him, but I couldn’t think of him as a regular guy. Yes, I knew he’d gone to a regular high school before he died, and he’d played regular-guy football, just like Nash. And he’d probably done regular-guy stuff like watch sports, and break curfew, and kiss girls—one of my least favorite visuals ever. But I couldn’t see him like that. Tod was anything but normal to me.

  “Happy birthday, Kaylee,” Jayson said, leaning around Emma to look at me. “I brought you a gift, but I didn’t see any others, so I left it in my car… .”

  “Oh, you didn’t have to bring anything!” I could hear surprise in my own voice. “This is a gift-free party, except for my dad. Because he’s my dad.”

  Jayson shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want it, maybe Emma will.”

  “Yes. Kaylee’s rejected birthday present. That’s what I want.” She laughed, then pushed him playfully, and Tod pulled me up by one hand.

  “Let’s give them some privacy,” he said.

  “What about our privacy?” I asked as he tugged me down the pier.

  “We can make our own privacy.” His fingers slid between mine, his hand warm in contrast to the cool breeze coming off the lake. “You weren’t serious about the no-presents rule, were you?” he asked.

  “Why? Did you get me something? You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Well, it’s not a present in the traditional sense. But it’s something I’ve never given anyone else, and I want you to be the first.”

  “We’re not talking about your virginity, are we? Because I happen to know that ship has sailed.” Long before I’d been seaworthy.

  “Ha, ha.” We stepped off the dock and onto the sand, and Tod let go of my hand to slide his into his pocket. “Please excuse the lack of wrapping and girlie ribbons… .” He handed me a folded scrap of paper, and the nervous twists of bright blue in his eyes said this gift—whatever it was—was worth as much to him as he obviously hoped it would be to me. In spite of its modest appearance.

  My hands shook as I unfolded the paper. It held an address, written in pencil, in Tod’s handwriting. “What is this?”

  “This is my place. This is the local reaper headquarters. No one other than my coworkers is supposed to have this address, and I could get into a lot of trouble for giving it to you. But my room is in this building, and I want it to be your room, too, for whenever you need it, whether I’m there or not. If you need to rest, or hide, or cry, or scream, or just want to be by yourself for a little while, you can go there, day or night. No one else can get there. Not even Levi—he doesn’t know which room is mine.”

  I felt dizzy, for the first time since I’d died. My stomach was twisting in knots, but they were good knots. “This is like the key to your apartment… .” Only there was no key, because there was no door.

  “Yeah. Only more secure. This is a safe place. This is a place no one else can find us. Later tonight, I’ll show you how to find my room inside the building, but for now… Just know it’s your room, too. Our room.”

  “You gave me privacy. For my birthday.”

  “Um, yeah. Did I mess this up? You’re not really the flowers and jewelry type.”

  “It’s perfect. It’s so far beyond perfect it gives all other presents a bad name.” I stood on my toes to kiss him—in public, for the first time since the kiss that had started all the trouble—but my birthday kiss was cut short when someone cursed on my left.

  “Well, shit, that can’t be good,” Sabine said.

  I dropped onto the balls of my feet, ready to snap at her to leave me and Tod alone. But neither she nor Nash was even looking at us. I turned to see what they were staring at and found an unfamiliar car parked next to Emma’s at the end of the row, a too-thin woman in jeans and a faded T-shirt stepping out of the driver’s seat.

  “Who is that?” I asked, and Sabine scowled.

  “Tina. My foster mother,” she said through gritted teeth, already stomping toward the woman, leaving me, Tod, and Nash to catch up.

  We jogged after her, and were still shouting-distance away when the woman propped skinny hands on bony hips and tossed short brown hair over one shoulder. “Sabine, I specifically forbade you from coming here today,” she said, and Sabine stopped walking so suddenly I almost plowed into her.

  “Kaylee, please tell me you brought that magic knife,” she whispered, throwing o
ne arm around my waist like we were good friends.

  “It’s a hellion-forged steel dagger,” I said, squinting at the woman now glaring across the grass at us. Beneath the pavilion, my dad handed his spatula to Harmony, took off his apron, and started across the grass toward the new arrival, obviously ready to make introductions.

  “Whatever it’s called, go get it. Now,” Sabine whispered fiercely.

  I couldn’t remember when I’d last eaten, but my stomach seemed intent on tossing the food back up. “Why?” I asked, sliding Tod’s address into my pocket, but I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

  “That’s not Tina.”

  “Not again…” I groaned. We’d had too much death already. Too much vicious, personal, life-wrecking death. “Not on my birthday.”

  “Are you sure?” Nash asked.

  Sabine nodded. “Beyond sure. Get the damn knife.”

  I let go of Tod’s hand and shrugged out from under Sabine’s arm, then headed for my car. When my father reached Tina and offered her a hand to shake, she turned to look at him and I blinked across the grass and into the driver’s seat of my car, where I pulled the dagger from its sheath on the passenger’s side floorboard. I hadn’t touched it since Alec’s apartment. I didn’t want to touch it now. But I wanted to lose another friend even less, so I blinked back into step between Tod and Sabine, the dagger at my side, hidden from sight by my leg.

  We were feet from my dad and Tina when Sabine tried to take the knife from me. “No,” I said, so that only she and Tod could hear me. “We have to be sure.” What happened to Alec couldn’t happen to anyone else. I couldn’t let it.

  “I am sure,” the mara hissed as we stopped feet from my dad and her foster mother.

  “Sure about what?” My dad frowned with one look at our faces.

  Before any of us could come up with an answer, Tina pulled something from her pocket and swung low at my dad. He backpedaled, but her fist connected with his thigh, and he screamed and collapsed to the ground.