Torn: A young adult paranormal romance (Breath of Fate Book 1)

by Angelina J. Steffort

  “Calm down,” Leon’s voice was a golden thread breaking through my panic, reassuring me that this wasn’t a nightmare. “You can do this.”

  “What if I can’t find my way to heaven,” I wondered, my voice almost suffocated from my rising panic. “What if I find it and never find my way home—?”

  “You will find your way and back,” he reassured me in a satin tone that was so soft that it felt like a brush of his fingers against my fear-filled heart.

  My gaze met his in a quick glance, and one look into his dark eyes reminded me that, same as the woman, I wasn’t alone. He was here with me. And if I managed to master myself, I could do some actual good using my Lightbringer heritage to help this poor soul transition.

  I nodded, sensing strands from the bun on top of my head coming loose and bouncing over my shoulder as I studied the way Leon hovered by the dying body, a crease on his forehead, half-hidden by pale-blonde hair through which he glanced up at me. He ignored the nurse altogether as if she wasn’t there. Nothing mattered but the soul, who would be free within a matter of moments. He brushed his fingers over the woman’s forehead, his eyes back on her, watching her breathing even out.

  “Do you see how her chest is settling?” He gestured at the sternum, which was no longer pushed outward by the force of her expanding lungs. “She will be ready soon.”

  The clinical tone he used helped a little as he guided me through this task … what lay ahead of the actual task.

  “How long does it take to get used to this.” I squinted my eyes as I glanced at the woman’s lips, which were turning blue, and her skin ashen in stark contrast to the purple pillow someone had shoved behind her shoulders a while ago.

  “Does anyone ever get used to death?” He gave me a coffee-brown look that told me exactly how much he had been struggling in the beginning—maybe still did. The rest of his face, however, didn’t let on if there was any emotional turmoil involved for him as he was waiting for the soul to peel from the body.

  “There,” I pointed as I noticed the outline of the woman blurring and slowly rising as if someone had made a translucent, silver copy of her. She hovered for a second and then contracted into that small star that I had seen first with Gran and with all the souls I had observed since.

  In my chest, the tug, and the pain that came with it, ceased. Instead, I noticed a lightness. Like a feather, so free and unburdened.

  “She’s pure goodness,” I realized as I felt where on the scale between heaven and hell the woman stood.

  To my relief, Leon nodded. “A child of heaven,” he confirmed and beckoned me to come closer to the bed. Closer to my target.

  My knees felt like pudding as I set one foot before the other until I was close enough to do what I had been observing so many times.

  “Inhale, and let her settle,” he instructed, voice like a melody at the back of my mind. “Your body knows what to do, and the angel is waiting.”

  There was no shudder at the thought that I was hosting the essence of a heavenly being, only awe. I leaned forward, lips open, and sucked in a deep breath, watching the soul disappear from sight as it rushed into my mouth, down my throat, and wandered into a part of me I had never felt before—like an extra chamber in my chest made for that purpose alone. It resonated within me, making warmth spread through my body. A tug occurred at the center of my heart. A tug telling me that I knew where it would lead me. And for the first time, things made sense.

  I glanced at Leon, who was watching me with gleaming eyes, and smiled.

  “Take her home, Laney.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I was no longer on earth. I was sure of it. But I wasn’t in outer space either. I was everywhere and nowhere. Energy ran through me in bursts that were electrifying and exhausting at the same time, and within me, the soul was leaping in joy as it felt what was nearing.

  I felt it, too. The infinite power that was thrumming in the air … not air … it was no place where a human body could exist…

  My ethereal form slowed as the power beckoned me forward like a honey trap. Only, it wasn’t a trap. It was the ultimate reward for the soul I was carrying. The all-fulfilling sweetness of nectar and ambrosia. Paradise.

  And yet … I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t taste it or touch it. All I knew was that it was there, and that, while the soul would hatch from my lips at the end of our journey, I wouldn’t be allowed to even glimpse what lay beyond the gates.

  As I floated on, the thrumming became stronger, and I realized what it was; the power that protected heaven from any uninvited guest. It was the gate of heaven. Not in the same sense as the door I had imagined but like a barrier that separated dimensions. There were no words in my vocabulary that could describe it, and every word in my vocabulary combined might not be enough.

  So I didn’t try. I floated on amazed, bewildered as I marveled at the sensation of the closeness of heaven—of completion. A tear slipped from my eye at the unstoppable, all-including force that streamed through time and space, through what could be eons and no time at all, the world, the universe, or merely a handful of sand. Nothing and everything.

  “We’re here,” I said more to myself, unsure if the soul would hear me. If she even needed to hear me or if she felt it as the tug in my chest abruptly ended and I came to a halt. “You’re home.”

  Something stirred next to my heart, and for a brief moment, a sensation like the one when Cas had brought his lips to mine ripped through my torso. A burning pain that made me unsure whether it was purely physical. My non-corporeal hands flapped to my chest just as I felt the need to cough from the pressure that built up inside my lungs. No air. Nothing. Not the need to breathe in my ethereal form. Something different—

  The soul, silver and star-like, shot from my lips and whirled away so fast I wondered if I had messed up, if I had done something wrong. But a moment later—if time existed here—a dash of light wrapped around the star as if to cradle it, and the soul erupted into a bright glow, simmering before me as if to say goodbye. I bowed my head, unable to find any other appropriate way of returning the greeting. When I lifted my head again, the light was gone.

  I plummeted from the place, my body suddenly heavy, my chest empty. I zoomed out of reach of the thrumming power, of the gates of heaven, drawn by something else that was calling. Something that reminded me that I wasn’t to stay where I knew I would want for nothing. I remembered that I was alive. That I had a body. That I had a mother, whom I loved. That I had Jo and Leon and … that one day if I was lucky, I would be taken to those gates, in the shape of a star, and stay there—

  The wooden floor of my room hit my feet, and I was back. The world was suddenly dull, colorless, empty. I thought of that moment I had been allowed to feel the bliss of heaven … and I cried.

  I didn’t stop weeping when Leon’s hand touched my shoulder. I didn’t stop when he pulled me into his arms, against the warmth of his chest. I didn’t stop when he murmured words to me that I had never heard from his lips before. Prayers. I didn’t stop when he sang a lullaby that I remembered from my childhood. There was nothing that could make those tears cease. For there was nothing on this earth that compared to what I had felt there, at the gates of heaven.

  “It will pass,” Leon breathed onto my hair. “It gets easier.”

  His words hit my empty chest like a spear, and I cried not only for myself but for him, who had been pushed into this Lightbringer existence when he was little more than a child. And he’d had no one to help him, no one to dry his tears.

  “I’m so sorry, Laney,” he whispered. “So, so sorry.” His palms slid over my back, rubbing along my ribs where once, everything had been okay, and now—

  I wasn’t sure what was there now. A hole. An open slot, ready for the next soul to take a ride. Or just my own, miserable life. I couldn’t name it. And it didn’t matter. Something was missing.

  It was in the early hours of the morning when my tears ceased—not because the grief was ove
r but because there were no more tears left in my system to cry.

  Leon lifted one of his arms and peeked down at me, his eyes full of warmth, full of understanding.

  “You are so strong, Laney,” he whispered, his breath a warm breeze on my face, drying my cheeks as I lifted my head from his chest. “Incredibly strong.”

  I didn’t feel strong. But I nodded for his sake. He had been holding me all those hours, eventually growing silent, when he had run out of words of comfort.

  “It will get easier,” he repeated … a promise.

  I finally found it in me to sit up and lean against the headboard of the bed instead of resting in Leon’s arms like a bundle of misery.

  “You could have told me, you know,” I said and held Leon’s gaze where pain and shame and worry collided in an expression that had no name.

  “That’s the one thing that no one could have told you,” he replied, his voice like a song of atonement. “It is not the same for everyone; that’s the only thing I know. My grandfather always said it is like losing a piece of yourself. The notes don’t speak about it.”

  He was right. In none of the notes he’d given me had I found anything about … well … this. I wrapped my arms around myself and took a deep breath, hoping to fill the void.

  “I haven’t met many Lightbringers, but the ones I’ve met are all different. Some of them don’t feel that pain we felt at our first return from a mission.” He slid up beside me to the headboard and kissed the top of my head. “I was hoping that you wouldn’t need to suffer like this. That you’d be like the others who are simply coming and going as they transfer souls.”

  I studied his face before I cuddled against him once more, his warmth the only thing that made me feel better.

  “Why do you think I wasn’t pushing you about collecting your first soul? Why do you think I kept you on the sidelines for so long?”

  I nodded against his shoulder. Had I known this would happen, I would have run. I wouldn’t have inhaled that soul and taken it to it’s final, eternal home, but would have hidden somewhere, preferring to live with the risk of the Shadowbringer stealing my soul than ever feeling so … lost.

  Leon’s arm was the only anchor, his voice soothing as he spoke to me of how things would get easier with time. That with every mission, I would transition back into my normal self faster.

  “Trust me,” he said with a dark chuckle, “I would know. I’ve been doing this job long enough to know the procedure.”

  And as he spoke, I started to forget the emptiness within me. His words started making sense. I actually felt his warmth, the sound of his voice rumbling from deep within his chest; the gentleness of his fingers as they absently brushed over my arm.

  When I looked up what seemed like a lifetime later, the sky was graying, the stars Cas had mused about vanishing like memories.

  “Thank you, Leon.” I turned my gaze away from the end of the night and looked into his eyes instead where a light of its own was brightening like the rising sun.

  His arm slid off my shoulders, hand brushing across my neck all the way up to cup my cheek where it rested, a solid reassurance that he was here. That he was real. That there still was one thing on this earth that I craved … and that was him.

  The fire flared in me so fast I couldn’t spend a second to think it through, the desperate need to feel him suddenly overwhelming, all-consuming. My skin was tingling where his palm lay against my face, the look in his eyes sending a shiver down my spine, urging me to take a leap of faith and let the flames spread into a wildfire.

  I took a deep breath. Once. Twice. And measured his face, the angles and planes of that familiar yet new, exciting face that had once been my best friend.

  Adrenaline flooded my system, blood pounding in my ears from nervousness. But I didn’t yield. I wanted this. I needed this—

  And so I reached behind his neck, knotting my hands in his hair, and pulled him toward me.

  His mouth crushed against mine. Not gentle but eager, hungry. As if he had been waiting for this moment for a lifetime. A moan slipped from his lips between kisses, the sound running through me like electricity, making me crave him even more.

  I didn’t know how long we got lost in that kiss, how many minutes his mouth searched mine, his hands securing my face against his.

  It was only when I heard footsteps in the hallway that I halted.

  “Mom’s up,” I ground out between ragged breaths as I peeled myself away from him just enough that his lips were out of reach.

  Leon studied me, breath coming in gusts and eyebrows raised in protest as I kept listening for a sign Mom would check to see if I had come home last night. But his mouth twisted in a curve that informed me he didn’t really care who might barge in the door. “It’s seven in the morning,” was the only thing he said as he flopped back onto the pillows, letting go of my face only to grab me by the shoulders and pull me down with him.

  I landed on top of him, catching myself with my hands against his chest, and hovered, my face above his, and studied him.

  “This”—he swept up loose strands of my hair and wound them around the bun on top of my head”—turned out very differently from what I expected.”

  I felt heat rise in my cheeks, but it didn’t matter. Leon knew me better than anyone else. It was all right for him to see me blush, for the effect his voice, rough and silken all at once, had on me.

  “How did you expect this to turn out?” I asked in a whisper, finding it difficult to look into his eyes when his lips were right there, soft and warm and flushed—and featuring a broad smile.

  “I was prepared for the tears,” he admitted, reminding me of that empty spot in my chest. “But I didn’t—never in my wildest dreams—expect this.” He tilted his head up until his breath was on my lips, and hovered there as if waiting for me to close that gap. “I was prepared for your wrath, for your silence, for anything … but”—he brushed his lips against mine so lightly it felt like a phantom touch—“this.”

  The sensation of his mouth on mine tuned out the creaking floorboards as my mother returned to her bedroom. It tuned out anything but that new feeling of Leon’s nearness.

  I indulged in his kisses until exhaustion took me over and I fell asleep in his arms.

  When I opened my eyes, bright light greeted me, bringing back memories of the soul dissipating. It brought back the crystal clear specks of light in the night sky that I had gazed at over the Shadowbringer’s shoulder. It brought back the pain that his kiss had instilled in my chest and the terror that had followed … and the aching, empty spot that might never fully heal.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Cas

  Damn the stars!

  It hit me like a bolt of lightning, the pain in my chest, the inevitable proof that all hope was lost.

  It had been mere minutes since the Lightbringer had grabbed me by the arms and pressed me against the desk with the words, “If you come near her again, I will forget our sides have a truce, and I will end you.” His words had resonated with me. The truce was the only reason why they and we could work side by side, bargain on behalf of the souls entrusted to us, and keep the laws of the afterlife intact.

  I panted, back resting against the leg of the desk where I had sunk the moment Laney had left with the Lightbringer, that look of shock and disgust in her eyes. A scream stuck in my throat, but I couldn’t loose it. I knew what this was. I recognized it as it seared through me from head to toe and back—Laney was taking a soul. She was becoming a Lightbringer. And I—

  I didn’t want to think of the consequences. Couldn’t. Not yet—

  From the hallway, music washed around me, accompanied by light and the sound of clicking footsteps rushing to my side.

  “Lucas?” It was Avery who knelt beside me, struggling to fold her legs beneath her with her heels. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  I smothered a smile.

  “Are you okay?” There was honest concern in her
voice, no sign of the superficial girl I’d met at school.

  I drew my gaze up at her face and found her kohl framed eyes staring down at me.

  “Are you drunk?” was her conclusion, and it would be best if I simply nodded at that.

  So I did. Who cared if I lied? I was part of hell. And with Laney having sealed her Lightbringer fate—that wouldn’t change any time soon. Another forty or fifty years—

  “Come, let me help you.” Avery grabbed my arm and slung it around her neck. Then, she pushed herself up, dragging me along with her.

  I pretended to make an effort and got to my feet, careful not to put too much of my weight on her delicate frame. However, a new surge of pain rolled through me, and my knees buckled, making me grab the edge of the desk for support.

  Avery frowned at me. “You could have at least told me where you were going,” she complained. “We could have gotten drunk together.”

  A chuckle escaped me at that, and she gave me an inquisitive look.

  “Trust me, you don’t want to be part of what’s going on here,” I told her, making sure I drawled as if I’d overdone it with liquor.

  How could this have happened? I lifted my hand to my chest and rubbed along my sternum, hoping the pain would cease and I would be able to walk far enough to get out of sight and shift into my ethereal form so I could escape this human madness.

  Laney had manifested as a Lightbringer despite my efforts, despite my careful planning and circling her.

  And I had done my best. Had let her get used to my presence. Had enrolled in high school so I could learn more about her, so she could slowly fall under my spell. But I was out of practice with humans—at least with those whose lives weren’t over.

  So I had chosen someone to get up to speed with the customs of the times. Avery had seemed like a good choice. Popular, pretty, receptive to my lure…