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

by Angelina J. Steffort

  And she came with a benefit. That girl did anything to get the school’s attention—positive or negative. I had seen her try to get closer to Laney’s Lightbringer, the boy no girl seemed to be able to look past.

  Seeing Avery by my side had somehow gotten me Laney’s attention. And I had needed her attention. Her attention first. Then her affection. Then her trust. That one day I could have kissed her and taken her soul with it. Not with the kiss but with her falling in love with me.

  I had seen it in Laney’s eyes … that there was something there; a tension, something tangible—

  If only I’d had a bit more time, I would have been ready to talk to her. To ensnare her with my shadows and make her see—

  I shook my head, stumbling alongside Avery into the hallway. The party was still going on, people dancing on the stairs as we made our way down. Laney’s friend—the one with the tired eyes—moved on the dance floor, arms around a boy whose name I had never cared to learn.

  Several girls looked up as we descended the stairs, their gazes curious, some envious, jealous.

  Laney’s eyes sometimes followed me around like that when I was with Avery; with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. A sign that maybe she was jealous. That she had already fallen for the trap of shadows that I was.

  But it no longer mattered. My task was over. There was nothing more for me here.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Laney

  Jo called around noon.

  Leon and I had unfolded from the bed with a mixture of awe and awkwardness seemingly to drive both of us from a restful sleep.

  “I don’t need to stay now that you are a real Lightbringer. You no longer need my protection.” He had chuckled at the mess last night’s makeup had left on my face and planted a kiss on my cheek before he’d checked his own face in the mirror above the dresser—and laughed.

  He’d turned around and given me his broadest, most delighted smile. “I love you, Laney.” With those words, he shifted into his ethereal form and took off, leaving me gaping.

  Jo’s voice was buzzing through the speaker of my phone, wanting to know where I had disappeared to last night. Apparently, Leon had taken the time to return to the party and offer to drive her home after I had zoomed toward heaven. How decent of him.

  I murmured a response that I had been tired and tried to smother a surge of incredulity about what had actually happened last night. Not heaven, even though that was a big thing—so big the emptiness in my chest returned at the thought of it—but Leon. Something in my stomach fluttered at the thought of his lips on mine, of his hands … the tenderness of his touch.

  “Are you still there?” Jo’s voice chirped from the phone.

  I managed to pull myself together. “Just waking up,” I said with as much seriousness as I could muster. “Last night was—” What exactly had it been? Long? Taxing? Exhausting? Life-changing? “Different.” I settled on something harmless.

  “Different how?” Jo prompted, and I could tell from her tone that she expected a full recap of my evening.

  But I hadn’t been the only one who’d had an interesting night. I remembered the boy Jo had danced with, how they had moved together—as if of one and the same mind.

  “I’ll tell if you do.” I nodded to myself, and Jo didn’t even try to hide her excitement as I asked about the boy she’d danced with.

  “We’ve been on one date before the party, and when he didn’t ask me out again, I thought…” Her voice trailed away as, in the background, her father was speaking. “Yes, Dad. I took them after I woke up.” She cleared her throat and returned to the conversation. “Dad is being a helicopter parent,” she explained before something rustled at the other end of the line. “Actually, it would be nice to talk in person,” she said, voice less excited than before. “Can I come over? Or is Leon still there?”

  I didn’t say a word to confirm or deny he had spent the night, instead telling her that I needed to get out of the house for a bit and that I’d grab lunch for both of us on the way over.

  “Anything specific you’d like?” I asked, wondering if, considering the fluttering of a million butterflies inside my stomach, I’d be able to eat anything at all.

  I made it to the bathroom moments later, for the first time since Jo and I had done our makeup last night, acknowledging what I looked like.

  Leon’s words echoed through me. I love you. He had said those three little words and smiled at my smeared zombie face. The hoard of wings frantically rushed through my body as I stepped into the shower, hoping that, while the water would rinse the sweat and paint off of me, the memory of Leon’s touch would remain.

  By the time I made it to Jo’s, the car smelled of sauerkraut and Russian dressing. Mom hadn’t asked questions about last night, whether or not she had noticed I’d had company. Instead, she’d asked me to say hi to Jo and to bring back a Reuben sandwich for later.

  Jo’s parents were on the way out when I arrived, both of their faces tight even as they smiled while waving at me when I pulled the car into the driveway.

  I watched them walk away, pulling my phone out, and called Leon.

  “Everything all right?” he asked by way of greeting, alarm in his tone.

  I thought twice before I responded, seeking the truth within me. “I just wanted to hear your voice,” I told him, hoping that I didn’t sound cheesy.

  Leon chuckled in response, a sweet sound that brought back memories of last night, and I shivered. “Did you get a chance to clean up?” he asked, tone playful.

  “From head to toe,” I told him and wondered if he’d thought of me the same way I had of him—

  “Good.” His voice was smooth like satin. “I’m almost certain that your lips taste even better without paint.”

  My stomach tightened, and I wondered if it had been the right choice to call him right now when I was about to get out of the car and ring Jo’s doorbell. But I played along. “Why don’t you come over later and try?” I teased and forced myself to open the door instead of letting myself fall into the sensation Leon’s laugh evoked in the pit of my stomach.

  “Actually, I wanted to let you know that I am at Jo’s for a bit,” I told him, cutting off my train of thoughts before they could run wild. “But you’re welcome to come meet me at my house in the evening.”

  “Maybe,” was all he said before he wished me a great day.

  Jo opened the door after a minute when I rang the doorbell.

  “You look undead,” she joked and hugged me tightly before I could say a word. “Thanks for coming.”

  I wrapped my arms around her, the bag of Rubens clutched in one hand, and squeezed her for a moment.

  “I hope you’re ready for the breakfast of champions.”

  Jo gave me a curious look as I held out the bag to her.

  “We stayed out way too long to have lunch yet,” I explained and followed her into the house.

  In the kitchen, a pot of lukewarm coffee was sitting on the counter beside a plate of crackers and an untouched cup of tea.

  Jo pulled out two plates and a mug and placed them on the table. Then, she took the bag from my hands, placed a sandwich on each plate, and sat down, bracing her hands on the edge of the table.

  “Coffee’s over there if you like.” She pointed at the counter, and I was about to open the cupboard and grab a mug for myself when Jo stopped me, pointing at the one sitting between our meals. “This one’s for you,” she explained and leaned back in her chair. “God, I shouldn’t stay up that late. I feel like an old woman.” She laughed though her face was pale and her voice sounded like an echo of the excited Jo from earlier on the phone.

  I reached for the coffee pot and poured myself a cup before I sat down again, all the time observing how Jo was acting somewhat strangely. Not strange but … different somehow.

  “You don’t want any?” I asked before I set down the coffee pot.

  Jo shook her head. “I have my tea over there.” She grimaced as she was
about to get to her feet and let herself flop back into her chair.

  “Bad day?” I asked, wondering if she was hungover.

  “Bad life,” she responded with a grin and a frown—somehow she managed both in parallel.

  I rushed to the counter and got her cup, keeping one concerned eye on her all the time.

  “Wanna talk about it?” I offered and placed the cup in front of her.

  “I don’t,” Jo admitted, still with the same facial expression.

  “It’s okay,” I automatically responded. “You don’t have to.”

  “That’s not it.” She lifted the cup to her lips and gritted her teeth after a small sip. “I should.” She set down the cup again and eyed the Ruben as if it held all the answers.

  “It’s really okay if you don’t feel like t—”

  “No it’s not okay,” Jo cut me off, weak anger flaring in her eyes as she turned the plate around with a finger and studied the other side of the sandwich. “I should be telling you. I should be telling the world … I just don’t want to be looked at like that, you know?”

  “Looked at like what?” I wanted to know.

  At that, Jo looked up. “Like I’m the girl who’s dying.”

  I had probably stopped breathing, for I could no longer find the air to speak in my lungs.

  “What did you just say?” I gritted out after what felt like too much time as if she hadn’t just said what she had said.

  Jo held my gaze, all smiles gone, the purple shadows under her eyes more prominent than ever, and her eyes … her young eyes … so endlessly sad.

  “You don’t have anemia,” I concluded as everything—her constant exhaustion, the days she’d been missing from school—it all got an entirely different meaning. “It’s something far worse than that, isn’t it?”

  Jo didn’t speak for a long moment while the clock on the counter ticked into the silence like a sledgehammer. When she finally found words, they broke my heart. “Anemia is a result of it, but not the disease,” she explained, her voice calm, controlled, quiet. “I was diagnosed with chronic kidney disease a while ago.”

  It took me a few minutes to understand she didn’t actually mean she was dying but that her kidneys had problems filtering and needed help.

  “I’m sorry,” was the first thing that slipped from my mouth as the shock slowly passed.

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” she said with that weird expression that reminded me of a frown and a smile. “I am getting medication that helps, plus … dialysis.”

  I didn’t know what to say, what to think. So I got to my feet and walked around the table to throw my arms around Jo. As I enclosed her in my embrace, she sobbed. Quietly at first. Then the tears ran freely. Hers and then mine, too. What had she done? How had she done wrong in her short life to be suffering like that? I rubbed my hands over her back.

  “I’m so sorry,” I repeated. But Jo shook her head against my shoulder, her fingers clinging to my sleeves.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m not actually dying … not yet.”

  I held her and listened as she told me how she was so tired all the time because her body wasn’t functioning the way it was supposed to, how everything cost more energy than she had been used to, how she dreaded the day she’d go to get her next dialysis.

  And all I could do was sit with her and hold her. I couldn’t tell her that everything was going to be all right, for that would be a lie.

  Everything would be different. That was the truth. The same as it had been for Leon all those years ago. The same as it was for me. And yet different. If things went well for her, she’d have a good life even with some restrictions. She would maybe get a kidney transplant that would improve her quality of life immensely. But if things went badly for her … she’d be on the receiving end of my extra skill sooner rather than later.

  “I’ll be there for you, no matter what,” I told her and hugged her more tightly. In my mind, I added, “until your very last breath. And afterward, I’ll take you home.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I wished I could have told Jo the words; wished she could know that I would protect her. But I couldn’t. No one should know about what I was—a messenger of heaven. But when the time came, I would tell her, regardless, that there was something more coming after this life, that there was something out there that my soul would be craving for the rest of eternity, now that I’d felt it. And that she didn’t need to fear as long as I was there to bargain for her soul, for I would never let the Shadowbringer win.

  Jo pulled out of my embrace and smiled at me through tears. “I know you will.”

  I didn’t know if I should return her smile or cry with her, my chest split into two halves; one that wanted to be strong for her and cheer her on, the other wanting to cry her tears so she wouldn’t need to.

  “Let me know if there is anything I can do,” I told her, choosing a third option; to be her friend and be there for her in any way I could.

  “Actually, there is one thing…” Jo wiped her palms over her face, drying the wet streaks down her cheeks. “Please, don’t tell anyone.”

  I swallowed. I could do it. “Not even Mom?” I checked. Mom had suspected something was wrong. She was too observant for her own good. “Or Leon?”

  Jo pursed her lips as if she was weighing her answer. “Your mom, okay. But not Leon.” She gave me a stern look that seemed almost comical after the seriousness of our conversation, but I nodded obediently. Even if it would be difficult to keep a secret like that around Leon. I could understand that she wanted as few people to know as possible. Word spread fast in our school, and if people like Avery found out, they’d find a way to make Jo’s life a living hell—

  For some reason, an image of storm-gray eyes and a searing pain in my chest followed, and I coughed in reflex.

  A memory of the party—a dark room, Cas, who had tried to kiss me … had actually kissed me and tried to take my soul with it—flashed through my mind, making my hand flip to my throat, fingers shaky at the sensation that still echoed in my chest. I had barely escaped him, only to tumble into this new version of myself where little had any meaning—little but the few people I loved.

  Hell. He was part of hell. And he had tried to take part of me with him.

  “It’s just my family who knows, you, and—” Jo cut herself off, and I focused on her, taking a deep, steadying breath.

  “And?” I prompted, my voice not even remotely as inconspicuous as I’d hoped.

  Luckily, Jo didn’t seem to notice. “And that boy from the party.” Her delicate features flushed with a healthy shade of pink as she mentioned him.

  “The one you thought wouldn’t go on a second date—” I didn’t need to finish my question because I already felt the pieces snap into place. “He knew after the first date,” I concluded.

  Jo nodded as her hands wrapped around her cold teacup and studied its contents with embarrassment. I pulled up my chair and sat down right next to Jo, my hand on her forearm, and sighed through my nose. “Did he dump you after the first date because of that?” It was an assumption. Not a nice one. But it also would explain her reluctance to be open about her health challenge.

  “That”—she nodded—“and that he basically told me he wasn’t sure if he wanted to waste his time on someone who might be dying before we even graduated.” There was a profound sadness in her voice that made me want to hurt my knuckles on that boy’s square jaw.

  “What an awful thing to say,” I vented. “You’re not dying.” She wasn’t. At least not any time soon. Medicine had that sort of illness well under control.

  “He apologized a couple of days later,” she appeased, but it didn’t make me feel any less angry with him.

  “So, what happened at the party? Why didn’t you kick his ass?” I honestly wondered.

  Jo just shrugged. “I don’t know how … I guess, I didn’t care for a change. I wanted to have fun instead of being careful, the way the doctors s
uggest … and my parents … and basically every article on my disease.” She grimaced the way we sometimes did when we talked about a particularly nasty test at school. “You know … healthy lifestyle.”

  “Having some fun is healthy,” I insisted, knowing very well that I hadn’t even wanted to go to that party in the first place because my type of fun was lying safely in bed with my nose in a book. It might have been better—I would have never had that weirdly thrilling and very much dangerous incident with the Shadowbringer. It wouldn’t have changed anything about my becoming a full Lightbringer though. That had been set in stone, it seemed, from the moment I had shifted into my ethereal form.

  Jo chuckled at me, her face tomato-red now. “Trust me, I had fun.”

  And at that, we both burst out in laughter.

  We spent the rest of the day, watching trick films and drinking tea. I converted to her choice of food just to make it easier on Jo so that she didn’t feel like she was missing out on anything. And just to indulge my friend, I told her about the kiss with Leon … and watched her eyes light up with excitement.

  It was almost dark when I climbed into my car, ready yet suddenly unable to bring myself to drive home. Mom might be there, waiting with questions about last night, which I wasn’t ready to answer.

  I stared at the light in Jo’s window for a long time, pondering how life had changed literally overnight. Jo had said she’d spend the evening in the bathtub with music and a cup of tea. A safe sort of evening activity that her doctors would approve of.

  And as I kept thinking, I started driving … aimlessly. I simply took a turn here and another there, having nowhere particular in mind. It was just that for the first time in a while, I felt safe. I didn’t wonder if Leon would be out there, watching over me, if he was ruining himself with sleepless nights solely to protect me from the Shadowbringer.

  In front of some of the houses, Halloween decorations were meant to scare the trick-or-treaters from last night. What few cars were on the street didn’t seem to be in a particular hurry. Just a normal Sunday with the town asleep after a night of dreamed up horrors—